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ineylesian · 22 days

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— FELL ON BLACK DAYS

AVENTURINE X FEM! READER

AO3 | NAVIGATION

WORD COUNT — 9.5k

WARNINGS — spoilers for penacony’s storyline, enemies (??) to lovers, slowburn fr (it gets good i promise) mentions of genocide, mentions of child exploitation (not explicit), weapons & violence, smut, fem anatomy reader, sub!aventurine, mentions of traumatic events, one bed troupe

SUMMARY — Risk. It’s the word Aventurine lives by, a motto that claws at your heart when he’s gone. A reality that spills tears when he closes the door to your apartment, leaving only the ache of your heart in his absence. A danger that never guarantees the next time he chases his destiny will not be his last.

You will never fight to change it, because that’s all it is. Destiny.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — AHHH i love aventurine so much he made me write again <333 i will defend this man to the end of the earth i swear. also holy word vomit, this is officially my longest piece!!

“BREAKING NEWS: Reports incoming that the International Peace Corporation has been seen with an employee suspected of Avgin origin from the planet Sigonia-IV. All habitants from this world were thought to have been wiped out or lost to the galaxy, so the appearance of this mysterious individual has grasped the attention of–”

The broadcast slowly fades into the background, overtaken by the synth and snare of a song that lightly shakes the ground at your feet.

Sometimes you’re better of dead–

“Oh, you think you’ll be an asset? You’ll have to learn to make tough decisions on the go here if you want to succeed, so tell me…”

There’s a gun in your hand, it’s pointing at your head–

“You want to help this clan? Help claim this world and rid it from the remaining filth that roams?”

There’s a piercing screech amidst the bar, the high pitched wail of the speaker blasting the music fighting against the volume. A few seconds pass before the song picks back up again, a few lyrics skimmed through.

Which do you choose, a hard or soft option? (How much do you need?)

In a West End town, a dead end world, The East End boys and the West End girls–

“...”

“Before your initiation, you must make a prayer to the winds and mountains. Do you swear to devote your thoughts and beliefs to them, and reclaim the glory of Sigonia-IV?”

We’ve got no future, we’ve got no past

Here today, built to last–

“I swear.”

The bass fades and you’re left standing amidst a crowd of chatting people, some high on buzz, others passed out beside the restroom. Your eyes slowly fix forward, coming to a halt as the masses shift in formation, curving in a circle around the biggest table in the casino. Lined with forest green felt and red chips, hands bang against the surface joined in a cry of frustration.

“God damn it. This is rigged!” A player screams, hot-faced and teeth grit. “YOU!”

He stomps his way around the table, stopping at the dealer’s chair, failing to gain any attention despite the magnitude of his boots on the floor. In retaliation, the man takes a fistfull of the dealer’s hair, spinning him violently around and grabbing the collar around his neck.

Seldom have there been times where you didn’t see him in this sort of setting, a man with glasses that carried the same orange tint as the drink in his hand, die mounted between his fingers as he speaks with a wealthy patron. His words weave like velvet on a fine tailored suit as he invites you to play a game of chance, and before the game has even begun, you’ve lost.

His name is Aventurine, and, just as his reputation precedes him, the corners of his lips turn upward as you enter his field of view. He is never one to be down on luck.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to exit the casino. The drinks have riled you up a bit too much, and I’m afraid you’re no longer sober enough to keep playing.”

The smell of outlandish alcohol hits your nose in a foul wave as he turns, rudely shrugging your hand off of his shoulder.

“And who do you think you are? Protecting this weasel like that.” You take a step back as he advances, completely abandoning his grip on Aventurine as his gaze focuses on the emblem tailored to your shoulder. “You’re in on this scam too, aren’t you? Fuckin’ IPC, always looking to take money from people.” A sizable crowd has gathered at this point, and with that, guards are quick to stand at your side. You tilt your head to the side, extending a hand to gesture at the coat draped over his empty chair.

“You may gather your things and leave now, sir. Refusal to comply will result in you being forcibly removed.”

A few more seconds of seething stares pass before he grumbles an insult toward you and rushes to gather his things, attempting to push the guards following him away. You sigh, turning to the dealer, who is now comfortable in his chair, feathered hat placed neatly on his lap as he shuffles the pool of cards pushed his way.

“Alright folks, now that’s over with, how about another–”

“Mr. Aventurine unfortunately won’t be able to join you all this round.” You quickly cut him off, laying the newly layered deck of cards onto the table. “May I have a word, please?”

The blonde takes a glance between you and the rest of the patrons at the table before nodding, allowing a charismatic smile to decorate his face as he slides the cards forward.

“Of course. Miss Antonia, would you please find another dealer to step in for the remaining games?”

He gathers a kind nod from a nearby waitress, before turning to follow you outside of the casino. As the door opens, strong drafts of icy wind blow against your face, and you hear a shiver from behind.

“Sheesh, couldn’t we at least have talked inside? I didn’t come prepared to stand in the cold…”

You send a look his way, and Aventurine’s hands rise, lips pursed in faux apology. He pushes his glasses farther into his nose bridge as you lean against the casino’s exterior wall, shielding yourself from the chill. It’s clear he’s not taking you seriously, stifling out a yawn and rubbing his eyes before he even spares you a glance.

“Here to lecture me about the, wait…” His eyes suddenly narrow, honing in on your uniform. “Who are you?”

You remain silent, watching as he taps a few fingers against his forehead, thinking. The talisman of the IPC’s Strategic Investment Department sits firmly laid into your uniform. A smoothly carved onyx, inferior to the cornerstone you know he possesses and certainly lacking in power. His eyes linger on the stone for a few moments, biting the inside of his cheek as he tilts his head back up.

“Never seen that stone before..” He says after a few seconds, voice substantially lower. “What rank are you?”

His gaze is opaque, on guard. You resist the urge to bite your lip, figuring lying in this kind of situation wouldn’t be the best decision. Subconsciously, you bring a hand up to your stone, adjusting your coat flap before bringing it back down.

“P39.”

His eyebrows form a sharp line, but his lips remain flat. The lens behind thick shades linger on the stone, burning into the lights that reflect off of the darkness. He’s never seen someone who isn’t a part of the Ten Cornerstones wear something like this, so who are you?

“If you’re here to try and convince me to do something, I’m not interested. I’ve had enough orders drilled into my head since I came to Jarilo-VI.”

His forefront is confident, but you can see the hand that lingers at his side, struggling to stay put. It reeks of mild uncertainty, and a lack of security. He doesn’t feel safe when he’s not in control.

“I’m here to tell you that your assignment’s changed.” Your response is straight and to the point. There’s no room to betray any underlying feelings of guilt you may have from years passed. “You’ll be with me and my team, we’re going to the Loufu in three days to sort some business out. I suggest you finish your deals here before we go.”

“Well then.” Aventurine clicks his tongue, mild annoyance riding the smile that forms on his lips. “Let’s acquaint ourselves then, shall we? You must know who I am, so please allow me the pleasure of returning the favor.”

A small passage of frosty air rises into the atmosphere as he breathes, hand extending in formality. You take it, slowly shaking, taking in the defensive rise of his shoulders. It seems he has zero tolerance for strangers.

“Nice to meet you, Aventurine. They call this stone the onyx.”

–

The Interastral Peace Corporation only takes workers to be strong-minded and just as toughly willed. In the Strategic Investment Department, greed is a virtue, and wanting nothing but it all is a prayer. Those who earn their spot as a cornerstone will stop at no means to chase their desires.

Aventurine values risk, but he always loves to have control in his corner. Without control, the chips in his hands are of no use, and his bargains crumble beneath him.

A gambler's true nightmare, sitting right between his eyes.

Your relation to him is a true mystery, despite all of the digging he’s been doing after arriving at the Loufu. Despite the numerous deals you’ve closed together, he still fails to know anything about you, other than the fact that you have quick wit and fascinating knowledge of the universe. He won’t dare approach you directly, his inhibitions are too high and he knows too little.

However, there’s something off about you and that stone of yours. It’s unlike anything he’s ever seen before.

“Does the IPC really need that many funds to perform a vitality check on the Sky-Faring Commission? From what I remember, this is nearly triple the amount of last year’s fee.”

“Well, Helm Master, from what our reports say, you had agreed to the accumulation of interest based on reports of safety in the Loufu. Based on recent events, there has been a substantial raise in alarm concerning the safety of the citizens here. We hope you can understand.”

Aventurine unfolds his hands, sliding a glossy black dossier over to the woman known as Yukong. After skimming over the first page of analysis, she sighs, and places her hand over the cover.

“Is it possible that we could touch bases on this later this week? I need time to look over these documents and discuss them with my team before making any decisions.”

Biting back a groan of exasperation, you nod, politely shaking her hand and bowing your head when she stands. What you thought was going to be a quick excursion of debt collecting had turned into two long weeks of debate, and you’re starting to lose sleep. After Yukong exits, you run a hand through your hair, allowing the flow from the outside to flood your ears..

You can admit, the place they chose is certainly impressive in its theatrics, blooming with tall fountains of pristine water and a live band of foxians playing classical music on a mahogany stage.

After a few minutes of jotting down notes you find yourself leaning against the bar’s edge, elbows cool against smooth wood. Your thoughts swirl like the vibrato of the woman singing a cover of a local song in a language unknown to you, but it’s calming, and you begin to itch with the desire to order a drink.

The waiter polishing glasses near you seems to pick up on your wants, quietly gesturing with her hand that she’ll take your order.

“A Rose in Rain, please.”

She makes your drink at an astonishing speed, sliding the glass next to your hands with a smile. You stare at the royal blue liquid sitting at the rim, contemplating if the hangover will be worth it.

Aventurine eyes the finger that rests along the base of the glass, humming quietly to himself. He figures there’s no better way to get to know someone than through a few drinks.

“You gonna drink that or keep staring at it?”

You turn your head, watching as he slides onto the barstool next to you. He raises his three outer fingers, ordering a small glass of Wintry Garden before turning to face you.

It’s been a long month with the Cornerstone. His approach remains restricted, evident in his snippets of sarcasm that he still doesn’t trust you. Your situation is… unusual, so you tolerate it. However, there still lies a fear within that he’ll go deeper than what’s for his own good.

“Do you usually drink? Or are you afraid to spill your guts?”

His words drip with conviction, blindly accusing you with the corners of his mouth tilted upward. It’s been too long, and he still doesn’t know a damn thing about you other than the stone you wear. He needs to flip this in his favor, fast.

Aventurine’s fingers drum against the bar’s edge as he picks up his drink, taking a small sip. The slight tilt of his head inclines you to start yours too, drinking half of the tall glass in one swig. His eyebrows raise in surprise when the drink hits the table, taking all but a few seconds to completely down the entirety of its contents, a resounding clink following.

When you don’t rush to finish your own drink, Aventurine chuckles, crossing his arms as he turns to face you fully. He’s eyeing you, daring smile plastered on his face.

“What, scared?”

He’s challenging you. And it works, since your drink is empty and you’re ordering a second round in a matter of seconds. Fizz sluggishly bubbles down your throat, followed by rich spots of thick, clear syrup.

A few drinks is all it takes for you to begin feeling lightheaded, pressing a palm into your eye to try and alleviate the nausea. Aventurine is at least 6 drinks in, setting down his next with an exaggerated sigh. Raising his hand for another, he lightly dings his glass against yours, the scent of redsunset sauce high on his breath.

“Let’s talk, Onyx.” He remarks, placing his hands on the table as the bartender comes over. “What’s the real deal with you? How come I haven’t seen you anywhere in the IPC and you show up in my faction one random day?”

You cough, attempting to clear your throat before you answer. It’s tough to keep your resolve with the amount of alcohol in your system.

“Maybe you’re just not perceptive enough, I’ve always been around.”

It’s clear he doesn’t like your answer. Another drink down.

“How many years have you worked for the IPC?”

“Almost 4 now.”

“What’s the entrance project that got you into the Strategy Department?”

You hesitate, and he grins, satisfied. This interrogation is going as planned.

“Well then? I’m sure it couldn’t have been that bad, unless you’re more dangerous than you seem.”

It’s your turn to down a drink, wiping a small trace off of your chin as you think.

“Izumo.” You answer, short, watching as his fingers clasp tighter around the glass in his hand. Surprise.

“You really expect me to believe that?” He scoffs, a tinge of fire evident in his voice. “No one goes to Izumo any more, not after the slash.”

“You’d be surprised at the sheer amount of people that go to Magatsu no Morokami to uncover history. The IPC has their eyes set on valuable relics left behind from the war.”

He leans forward, dangerously close to your face. Past the thick orange lens of his aviators, you can see the irate spark in his eyes, alight with a plethora of shades you’ve never seen before.

“It’s not wise to lie to your superiors.”

You back away, sliding your card across the counter to the bartender. The moment Aventurine gets up to follow, you stop in your tracks, holding a small drive in his direction. You have some tricks up your sleeve, too.

“You’ll change your mind.”

He pauses, slightly bent over in a stupor of alcohol.

“Best keep your cards close to your chest, Aventurine. Snooping in places you don’t belong bodes bad fortune.”

His mouth opens, but no words come out. Slowly, he takes the drive from your hand, leaning back onto the bar’s surface, eyebrows knit in thought. The world is suddenly too loud and amidst a flurry of harmonic bellows and blinding lights, you disappear.

—

INTERASTRAL PEACE CORPORATION, STRATEGY INVESTMENT DEPARTMENT HQ | ONE MONTH LATER

“I guess I should apologize.”

Several weeks of absence. You look up from the papers on your desk, watching as Aventurine places your drive back on your desk. He straightens back up, waiting for you to respond.

“Understandable.” You answer, finalizing a document with a quick signature. “I would have had my apprehensions too.”

“Still do, but it’s better to work with someone you tolerate, right?”

You look up. He shrugs, eyeing the papers you have scattered around.

You had given him a flash drive with your report on Izumo, or, at least, a report on it. Sometimes things are left best buried. Still, Aventurine is certainly not stupid, and you know that. The final version of the report is vague and full of small incidents that contrast the planet’s true history There are inconsistencies, but he seems a little less hostile for the time being.

“Whatever you’re hiding from me, I intend to find out in due time. But I can’t do that if we’re at odds.” A hand is extended your way, held a little less straight and professional. “Let’s just try and hate each other a little less, huh?”

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you take his hand and shake it for the second time. Aventurine smiles at you, a little less pointedly, but still on guard.

“Friends it is, then.”

His grip tightens slightly at the proclamation, leaving your veins seared and eyes wavering. As if you just made a deal with the devil. Your gaze drags along the fancies of his coat, figuring this is just another gamble he’s won. Something closer to certain death; the passion for it intrigues you.

Sooner or later you’ll suffer the consequences of a lie, you tell yourself. There’s no good outcome when striking up an agreement with a gambler, especially one like Aventurine.

Especially when the gambler is holding a knife to your throat.

The blade is cool, barely holding back from your trachea. Leather gloves hold a fistfull of your hair, shoving you down onto the filing cabinet you were sifting through moments before. Your eyes dart around, only able to see the edge of his shoe pressing against your ankle and the papers you dropped scattered across the floor.

“Just as I thought we were getting along.” His spits, words slithering around your chest and settling around your neck. “It was only a matter of time before you slipped up.”

Confusion spreads across your features, and Aventurine scoffs. His shoe digs deeper into your achilles, and you stagger against the metal.

“What the Hell are you talking about?” Your words come out choked, gasping for air against Aventurine’s hold.

“That man, the one you had a long conversation with at the meeting tonight? You two seemed to get along.” Aventurine’s breath runs short out of anger, grip scalding against your skin. “You know him, don’t you?”

You close your eyes, tracing the night’s events back several hours. You only recall shaking two men’s hands, one being the esteemed Doctor Ratio’s, and the other the reason why you were down in the IPCs archives. He was dressed nothing short of what a gentleman would wear, offering you many commending words as he spoke of the recent inflation concerning the astral economy. However, you didn’t miss the brilliant stone embedded in the shell of his tie, reflecting vibrant colors you’ve only seen once in your lifetime. And neither did he.

“Pretty stone isn’t it?.” Aventurine continues, pressing your hands against the wall you’re shoved against. “I’ve seen it a lot throughout my lifetime, but I’m sure you know that already. Silly me, forgetting how easy it is to conceal them.”

He reaches for your shoulder, and you push back, using the slightly stagger of his feet to grab the blade’s edge, violently smashing your head into his and spinning him around. His blade traded for your stone.

“I’d like to know…” His fingers flip the stone around, taking in the colorless mass, like a void amidst the stars. With a quick swipe of his hand, a lighter is held to it, engulfing the black in a dance of pale fire. Aventurine shakes the rising smoke off of him after a few moments, and your eyes narrow.

“...Why you have this?”

Turquoise meteorite, a brilliant blue stone infused with veins of a green just as bright. A kind of beauty that could only be found on Sigonia, tailored in a way only an Avgin could. The crafter spoke of a tactic that could hide the stone’s true color, while keeping its spirit alive with you still.

Blood drips from your hand, staining your clothes a deep crimson. Gritting your teeth together, you slice a sleeve of your dress shirt off, slowly wrapping it around the wound.

Aventurine stands, still, fury riding his waterline. His glasses sit beside his feet, hues of purple and blue wavering in the dim light. His hand slowly clenches, in and out, smoothing the cooled piece over his palm.

“What now, Katican?” His voice is quiet, gently ricocheting off of concrete walls. “Came to settle one last score, fulfilling your dream of tracking down the last Avgin? Oh, I bet you’re itching to use that knife right now.”

You step to the side, shaking bloodstained papers off of your feet. The knife drops to the ground, scraping cruelty against the ground as you kick it to a corner far out of your reach. A sharp intake of breath follows, and he steps back.

“I’m no Katican.” Your tone is low, locking eyes with Aventurine, his gaze darts from the knife to you. “The stone was a gift from an Avgin I saved during the second extinction.”

The air is stale, prickling with fear as you pass. Aventurine stands tall, but you know all too well that his greatest fear has come alight in this very room. The thought of coming face to face with a Katican chases him in his nightmares each dusk, a terror looming over his head akin to a raging storm. For once, he’s speechless, completely dumbstruck, mind racing to comprehend all that you’ve bestowed upon him. So little said, yet so great a burden unveiled.

You would be right in telling him that such information is better left buried. Yet Aventurine knows only how to shatter the destiny that calls for him, and monumental change has left in its wake.

He opens his mouth to speak, yet words fail him. The hand holding the stone sits slotted behind his back, holding on to it as he would a birthright. A piece of his past that would never bless him again, sitting in the shade of Sigonia’s darkest nights, mimicking a color that does not belong to it. He wants to scream, take his knife and shove it so hard into your chest that it comes out on the other side.

“I am on your side, Aventurine. I always have been.”

After forcing himself to swallow, he straightens up, but you’re already gone.

Distantly, a heavy thud hits the floor.

–

TUMBLEWEED, SALSOTTO.

“I’m Daisy, here this morning with Tumbleweed’s daily weather report. As usual, there’s sun about. However, a rude awakening is coming at around 6pm, as a pretty hefty thunderstorm is coming our way. Make sure you carry your umbrellas! And remember, as our beloved Fleetworld Marc says, thunder only happens when it’s destined.”

Destiny. The word lingers in your head as a pang of hunger hits your insides. Placing your last suitcase beside your bed, you set off for your hotel room’s kitchen. Reaching over and opening a cabinet, you groan when it reveals itself to be empty.

Shrugging your coat over your shoulders, you pocket your room card. However, when you open your door, you’re quick to step back, feeling your heart rate spike instantly in shock.

“Uh…” You take a few short breaths, regaining your composure. “Can I help you?”

The man standing before you is no other than Aventurine, chin receding as he looks at you with evident confusion.

“Can I help you?” He retorts, flipping his hotel card up to the light. “This is my room.”

You pull the exact same card out of your pocket, and the two of you share looks of bewilderment. After reading over the numbers on your card for what felt like the 50th time, Aventurine sighs, long and drawn out.

“Well, this isn’t what I imagined when the front desk told me they could fit a room in for me.”

“I’ll go ask–”

You’re cut off with a swift wave of his hand.

“Don’t bother, I already did. They’re fully booked for the next week.”

Before you know it, both Aventurine and his bags are heading into your… your room. Exhaling, you mutter a quiet “okay..” and follow him inside. However, he’s quick to stop you once you make it past the bathroom, exaggeratedly pointing toward the wall to your right.

“This has to be some kind of joke, right?” Aventurine laughs, pulling his glasses off as if attempting to see better.

His gaze is fixed on the bed sitting across from you. The single bed, accompanied with a single nightstand and a TV. In that moment, you both share a second groan, and Aventurine palms his face.

“I’ll figure this out.”

In a matter of moments, he’s gone, suitcases set haphazardly on the ground beside you. After a few minutes of thought, you head to the bathroom, soaking your hands in cold water. A brief inhale follows the icy chill that drags over your face, and you silently curse destiny.

A few hours pass before Aventurine returns, shirt slightly ruffled, annoyance clearly displayed upon his features. The click of boots melds into the soft step of socks as he enters the kitchen, and you silently pass a bowl of fried rice you had been able to scavenge from a local grocery store over. Running a hand through his hair, he nods your way, sliding into the stool across from you and stopping the bowl with his fingers.

“As you could have guessed, there are zero people in this whole building willing to switch rooms with us.”

“Ah, yeah. Tourists are usually snobby.”

A hum signifies his response. Silence encompasses the room as a blanket would, save the soft clangs of silverware on bowls. You fix your gaze on the granite countertops, following intricately woven lines of mixed stone and drawing patterns in each section you come across. Becoming so immersed in the cracks, you don’t even notice when Aventurine passes you twice, once with his bowl, and once without. Seconds turn into minutes as you stare at the sheet of stone, only taken away from thought when he returns to the table, dressed in a black set of silk pyjamas.

“What’s your story?”

Your eyelashes flutter, taken aback by the sudden inquiry. Raising your head, you push the now cold rice to the side and glance at the man across from you, fingers interlocked in wait.

You’re shocked at the simplicity of it. The lack of accusations are a breath of fresh air when it comes to his words, typically cold fronted and dripping with malice. You would expect him to be angry still, perhaps even worse, giving that you lied, but you can feel the genuine curiosity lingering within. He seems to want to understand.

“I joined the IPC when I was young, almost ten years ago.” You start, fighting the urge to snap away from his gaze. “In my second year, word was out that there was trouble on Sigonia. It was thought that the IPC had it under control, but everyone knew there was something else coming.”

You pause. Aventurine remains quiet, attentive.

“I took it upon myself to convince my superiors to send me to Sigonia, despite their warnings. But… the work we did there, it wasn’t enough. I could help no one under the bounds of the IPC, so I sought out the Katicans. No more bounds. I was on the inside, where I could do things my own way.”

“Such lovely people, weren’t they?” He questions, apathy leaking from deep within. “Didn’t have a single care in the world other than themselves. They wanted to see everything burn, the women, children.”

“I have never seen a deeper hatred than what lies within them.”

You stop, again, toying with your fingers. Aventurine’s silence beckons you to proceed.

“I could only help so many, and they all ended up dying anyway. There was no escaping them, they were ruthless.” Your voice trails off, shaking your head slightly at the recollection of dark days in the wasteland they call Sigonia. No horrors match the ones that took place there. “I couldn’t imagine what you went through, any of you. And still, you’re alive.”

A word softly chants in your head. Destiny.

“Ever since I was born, I knew what was made out for me was never good.” Aventurine says, a hint of irony in his voice. “I fell on black days without knowing what it was like to live on the other side, and it’s been like that since.”

Flashes of your past mix in with current thought. You remember them, the Avign children, clinging to scraps of life even when it was evident their lives would soon end. Their eyes, just as brilliant as his, drowned by crashing waves, yet afloat on the prayer of hope. You imagine Aventurine was just like them, and you understand. Anger breeds and it seethes.

“How do you control it?” Such a simple question, yet so many answers.

“I put it all into risk. Every single last bit of it. I gambled, and I won.” His pointer finger gently hits the table, and he raises his hand to wave it through the air. “I survive, and I bet again.”

“A bold motto, I must say.”

A small smile graces his features, shrugging lightheartedly.

“Luck seems to be on my side.”

You look to the side at the sound of a crack, noticing that rain has started to fall. The sky is obscured by deep grays, and the rumble beckons you to the sliding door separating you from the balcony. The crash of drops on concrete is soothing to your ears, bestowing a peace upon your heart you’ve failed to find for a while now. The serenity thickens as Aventurine steps to your side, the hues in a ring of his eyes reflecting the storm outside.

“I didn’t rain much back then.” He muses, gaze following the slow drizzle of fallen streaks on the balcony’s edge. “A privilege I can keep alive, now that I see it so often.”

You look to the side, meeting Aventurine’s eyes halfway. The corners of his lips turn up as he looks past you, covering his mouth as he stifles a yawn.

“Almost forgot about the bed.” He laughs, running a hand over his lower face. “You can have it, I’ll be okay on the floor.”

“Absolutely not!” You counter, head tilting in defiance. “I’ll be fine on the floor.”

“That would be extremely impolite of me.”

“As it would be for me…”

“Will you please just sleep on the bed?”

“I brought extra pillows! I’ll be more comfortable than you on the floor.”

Aventurine stops, sending you a half lidded look. You walk over to your suitcase, swiftly pulling the two large pillows you packed out, holding them at your sides. He walks over to you, snatching a pillow out from one of your arms before walking toward the bed.

“Or, how about this?” He shoves your pillow on top of the hotel provided one. “We put the extra pillows on the bed, and we both take a half.”

You purse your lips, and shrug in reason. After patting your pillow into place, you climb onto the bed, turning on your side to ensure you’re only taking up half of the bed.

As you land on your other shoulder, you nearly touch noses with Aventurine. He chuckles, eyebrows raising in a teasing manner.

“It’s not often someone gets the chance to be this close to me.”

You groan, tugging the coarse blanket to your chest as you flip to your front. Stifling a few chuckles, Aventurine turns so his back is facing you.

Within a few minutes, quiet snores begin to drift through your ears. You sigh, and roll your eyes. And yet, only peace visits you in your dreams.

–

There have been few nights of your stay in Salsotto without rain. You’ve grown accustomed to the melodic pad of morning to the erratic roar of the night. This night is different, however, as dew is high in the air but the clouds of the afternoon are white, tainted with swirls of pink that bode better weather.

You fumble with the pearls on your neck, carefully positioning them so they rest on your collarbone. All IPC events require a clearance of wear that is above the standard grade of formal, nothing short of extravagant, explaining the fine tailored suit you wear over your dress. Ivory on cream, a palette that bodes well when making business deals.

Heels click on pavement, Tumbleweed’s National Museum in sight. Golden lights cast the establishment in an elegant glow, and the stream of classical cello welcomes your ears as you approach. Welcoming smiles are given your way as you enter the building, and you start a long night of shaking hands and business chatter with the esteemed mechanical aristocrat Screwllum.

Leisure chats of the Genius Society’s next project flow in and out of wine chutes, with gentle opera joining new deals of funding. Another hand shake bodes your farewell to a philanthropist from the Herta Space Station, and you take a seat at one of the tables nearby, attempting to gather your thoughts. Sipping on a glass of sparkling rose, you start jotting down tonight’s business proposals onto your phone.

“Having fun?”

You look up, offering a smile toward your temporary hotelmate as you pull the chair next to you back.

“Was wondering when I’d run into you, Aventurine.” You say, clinking glasses with the blonde. “How many deals have you clinched tonight?”

“More than you, I bet.” You scrunch your nose, folding your arms after sliding your phone his way. Aventurine takes a look through your notes, smile expanding on his face as he progresses.

“...And it seems I would be right.” He exclaims, holding up two full hands. “Don’t feel bad. It’s the natural charm.”

“Mhm. Super natural, and not annoying at all.” You quip, earning a light jab in the shoulder.

Your past two weeks with Aventurine had proved to be an easier feat than you had thought. Beside the snoring (that you had learned to tune out), he had served as a good source of company, squandering your worries of lingering grudges as you spent more time around one another. You were grateful he had the will in his heart to see the reason behind what you had done, although you were a little surprised to see that he had forgiven you with such ease.

Now, to you, he seemed to be an easy soul forced to carry burdens that were undeserving of him.

“Hey.”

You’re roused from your thoughts by the gentle tap of Aventurine’s foot against your heel. He cocks his head, and you’re suddenly aware of the soft serenade filling the room, sung by an artist famous for this piece.

“Let’s get our minds off of business for a while. Care to dance?”

He straightens his jacket before standing up, beckoning you to do the same. You accept the hand outstretched, threatening to roll your eyes as Aventurine lays his other on your back, guiding you to the floor.

“Trying to show off?”

Aventurine slowly spins you into a shroud of spotlight, laughing when your eyes go wide from the precision of his arms slowing you back down.

“Of course.”

A look is shared between the two of you, and the dance begins. You recognize the piece, Seid Umschlungen, Millionen! (Be Embraced, You Millions!), and fall into a sort of waltz, slow, quick, slow. Your feet move in a symphony of chirping violin and cello vibrato, swirling carefully around other dancers as you step from box to box.

The music quiets in a moment of repose, and you slow, winding your hands around his neck as you sway, in wait.

“What’s with the long face?”

The question catches you off guard, as you weren’t aware that your thoughts had reflected off of your face. Lips pursing, you wonder whether taking the chance and ruining the moment is worth it, but the question nags deep within, festering like a cancer that will not cease until it is freed.

“Do you forgive me?”

Strings echo and rise; Aventurine fits a hand behind your back before spinning you into dance. His eyebrows are furrowed lightly, as if your question had caught him off guard in some sort of way, but you both knew it was coming. Trust is an uncertain entity, not easily won or wagered, never certain in whether it’s attained or lost. Forgiveness is a trial for trust, and within inquiry lie a question of deeper truth that never made it to the surface

Do you hate me, Aventurine?

There have been many times in the passing days where you’ve been questioned about your time in Sigonia-IV. A test to determine whether your actions deserved merit. Recounting stories of countless lives you worked tirelessly to save at the risk of your own. Gallons of blood stained on your hands from the guilty, those whose karma ran the empty river beds of the desert red.

So much, and yet nothing at all. It’s as if life is out to play some game of twisted fate, as you see all of the lives you could not save in the man right before you. The brand slightly hidden by his collar and wispy blonde, jewelry glittering at his wrists, irises that shine in the darkest of nights. Bewitching, yet so alive.

“There’s nothing to forgive.” He says, after some time. “You did a brave thing, I would be a fool to condemn you for it.”

Elation. It’s the feather touch of his hands, graceful in the way they dip you, nearly stopping time as you lay suspended. Your eyes lock, and you nearly drown in the glow of lavender and maya that stare back. Slowly, you feel one of his hands leave your back, dipping in his suit pocket and coming to rest in your vision.

“Their memory is always alive somewhere. It’s up to us to keep it.”

You’re lifted to stand, and, amidst a rather slow spin, Aventurine pins the turquoise meteorite you’d thought was long gone onto the span of dress fabric above your chest. The resounding smile shared is trust.

You twirl and sink until the song comes to an end, stopping in a hold of hands and interlocked legs as orchestra is overtaken by voice. In the midst of fading spotlight, your breath evens out, and you find yourself following the gambler’s hand to escape the noise, elbows brushing on a balcony railing as you stare out into the fading daylight.

The sky is tinged with the baby blue of afternoon, arising into a deep interweave of violet and blush. A small, red casino chip flips between Aventurine’s fingers, rolling to sit between his pointer and thumb in short pauses.

“Got any tricks up your sleeve, gambler?”

Aventurine tilts his head to the side, invigorated by the rise of your lips, challenging, daring. The game you propose has risk, but what is life without taking leaps blind? Aventurine is sure he can see you now, after all.

With a flip of the chip and a wave of his hand, the red disappears, and a cool sensation lands firmly on your lips. His face is inches away from yours, fingers gently pressing against the chip that severs the distance between you.

“There are tricks to any risk, as long as you know what you’re doing.”

You raise your hand, sliding the chip from your mouth and palming it. When he doesn’t move, you tug on his collar, chin tilting upward to press your lips to his. The sensation is warm, gentle, as if you tread on ice that threatens to shatter. Honey sears your tongue, and you revel in the touch of his lips, soft as the velvet of his tie.

The moment is all too short, yet your mouth feels numb as you break away. In a moment of silence, you take the hand that sits lightly clamped around your wrist, sliding the chip in his palm and closing his fingers.

“I think I’ll be gambling a lot with you, Aventurine.”

His face moves closer, and you look down for a moment, noticing the hand that sits behind his back.

“I look forward to it.”

–

INTERASTRAL PEACE CORPORATION, STRATEGIC INVESTMENT HQ | TWO MONTHS LATER

Knock, knock.

“Coming.”

The door opens in fluid motion, revealing a room cast in gloom, tan shade, blinds drawn.

“Hey, Aven.” You sigh, placing a chaste kiss on the blonde’s cheek. “Long day?”

“Long day.” He mirrors, offering to take the stack of papers off of your hands. You accept, slipping into the chair across from his desk. “Are you done for today?”

“Mhm.”

Aventurine sits in his desk chair, shrugging the navy coat he sports onto the back. You stretch your arms behind your back, watching as deft hands undo the cross hatched tie representing the cornerstones from his collar. As he sets the piece down, his office phone starts to buzz, and he groans.

“Hello, this is Aventurine… Uh huh, what time?” He draws circles into ebony, holding the phone to his shoulder as he reaches for a notepad. However, as he clicks the pen in his hand, he nearly drops the phone, clearly startled. “Can you repeat that? Si- okay. I’m coming.”

In a flurry of movement, he stands, tie and coat snatched.

“We have to go, right now.”

His tone is impatient, brimming with anxiety and unwilling to contest. You blink a few times before following him out of his office, grabbing his coat to hold onto as he fits his tie back to his shirt. The walk is silent, save a quiet “thank you” when you hand the coat over and the click of shoes on tile. Your nerves rise as you move, watching the way he frets with his gloves, tugging on the ends repeatedly.

In a matter of minutes, you arrive at the boardroom of the IPC’s Strategic Investment Department, stopping at the edge of the table as Jade turns around, followed by a concerned looking Topaz.

“Ah, Aventurine. What a surprise, I was sure not to include your name in the list of attendees tonight.“She sends a look to the white haired cornerstone, before directing her gaze to you. “Unfortunately, ranks below P40 are prohibited from attending this meeting. Guards, please see her out.”

You push against the guard that seizes your wrist, but are unable to resist as more come to his aid. After having the door shoved in your face, you’re dragged to the hallway outside of the meeting hall, forced to sit in wait.

30 minutes. Another 30. An hour before the doors open, with Aventurine first, Topaz following close behind. He rushes past you, eyes on the ground, gone within seconds. Concern etches your features as Topaz runs up to you, lips pursed in distress,

“Aventurine-” She pauses, hand on her chest as she catches her breath. “Please go after him. You’re the only one that he’ll see now, after what just happened.”

“What happened?”

At your inquiry, she shakes her head, nodding her head toward the direction Aventurine took off in.

“It’s best you hear it from him. But, please, go see him tonight, he needs someone who’s close to his heart.”

Worry is quick to seep into your features, but you nod. A quick visit to his office and you’re off, taking the next jet off of Pier Point, to Klimt Republic. Weaving through streets and bullet trails full of life, you arrive in the heart of Klimt just two hours later, standing on the penthouse floor of an apartment complex worth more than the entire block you’re on.

Knock, knock.

Silence. You hesitate, and knock again.

The shuffling of feet hit the floor, and you wait in anticipation, hands firmly at your sides as the noise stops. After a few moments, the door slowly opens, and you sigh in relief.

Aventurine stands, slightly hunched against the doorframe, hair disheveled, eyes red and irritated.

“Aven, what happ-”

A pair of hands seize your wrist, tugging you inside and slamming the door behind you.

“Not now.” Your eyes widen at the plea in his voice, whole with a basal need that makes your chest tighten. “Please, just, make me forget about it right now.”

He looms over you, yet the shadow he casts is the antonym of threatening. Fear reeks off of him like vodka, as tears brim on his waterline. The feeling spreads to your skin like wildfire, and you feel him shake as you take his face in your hands, breathing shallow and scared.

The first taste of his lips is sweet, but the salt of his tears is quick to sink in. Clumsy and trembling, your bodies rock and hit walls as you make your way to his bedroom. You throw his coat to the side as he does yours, pushing him down onto his bed as you break for air.

Aventurine’s hair flows out around him as he falls onto the mattress, shrouding him as a halo would. You chase after him, littering his neck with soft bites that elicit soft groans from the skin beneath. You unbutton half of his shirt before diving for his collarbone, reveling in the whines that respond as you nip and bruise.

His hands reach for your pants, and you stop him before he can reach for your panties.

“Ah-ah, hands behind your head.” Your voice pools out smooth, running a hand down his shirt. “Just relax and let me take care of you.”

Gently pinning his hands above him, you let go, and he complies. You reward him with a kiss, messy and careless, pulling a string of saliva between your lips when you leave them. Your free hand pushes hair out of his eyes while the other works on the zipper of his slacks, watching as his fingers lock together as you apply pressure.

A shudder leaves Aventurine’s lips as you pull his boxers down, hand gently running along the length of his dick. Teeth tug at lips as you spit on your hand, working at his cock while running your free fingers along your folds. His neck lifts up as your hands move faster, and you grin, choking the noises that threaten to spill from your mouth at the display before you.

A sight like heaven, an angel laid out for worship. Aventurine’s skin is coated in a soft sheen of sweat that shines in the dim light, hand laid over one eye whilst the other remains barely open. Under the mix of hues that resemble wild fields of flowers, blush coats his cheekbones, a light to the darkness that blooms on his neck. The vulnerability of it makes your heart soar, and you feel a fire ignite in the depths of your being that fails to stoke.

The hand that toys with your clit lifts, prodding at Aventurine’s mouth as you lower yourself on his cock. Muffled whines vibrate around your fingers, and you moan at the fullness that envelops you. You swirl your fingers in his mouth, biting on your cheek as his tongue wraps around them, sucking on the sweet taste of you.

His hands abruptly reach up, fingers winding and tangling in hair as they pull you down, replacing fingers with lips. The sensation is hot, as if an unquenchable balm has set your skin alight.

“Feel good?”

“What kind of- ughh- question is that?”

You clench around him as if it's instinct, and Aventurine calls your name as he would a prayer. His moans are akin to song, divine in melody, alluring in a way that shuts your mind off from anything else but him. One of his hands leaves your hair, fingers clumsily clamping around your own, holding you like fine china.

The stretch of his dick does little to quench the hunger within, you crave more, a devout worshiper crying a hymn of need. Your motion becomes erratic, a twist of limbs and friction that siphons tears that streak down your cheeks, falling to mix in with the sweat on your lover’s face.

“Gonna-” Aventurine chokes on his own words, eyes shut harshly as he blinks back ecstasy. “Cum.”

Your words are lost to you, only managing to groan in response as Aventurine pulls you back to him. His lips seal over yours in a searing kiss, arms winding around your back to hold you still as your orgasm shakes you. White light flashes through closed eyes as you spasm around his dick, mixing with the cum that leaks inside of you.

The room is quiet, save the howling wind of night and the dance of unstable breath. Blankets shuffle as you drop to Aventurine’s side, allowing him to drape your discarded shirt over your bare chest. Time seems to cease as you meet his gaze, touch serene as the plains of distant worlds as he encourages you to come closer. You accept, eyes closing for a moment, feeling the warm fan of his breath over your nose.

“The IPC is funding a project to excavate Sigonia.” The silence breaks, peace shatters and your eyes snap open. “Turquoise meteorites are rare, so they’ll scrape the whole planet dry until every last piece is gone.”

Your face falls, corners of your lips pulling downward. Aventurine’s eyes are half lidded, seemingly already accepting the fate of the planet he calls home. He refuses to look your way, eyes focused somewhere past you, the sorrow spreads and leaks into your soul as it opens further. A place so full of hatred and loss, yet a place that he will never be able to let go of. It burrows within the deepest neurons, refusing to snap and forget.

“You have to say something, Aven.” You pull at his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Whatever you have to do, I’ll help you.”

“The IPC doesn’t have time to listen to Avgin.” He sighs, hope stale on his breath. “Not even if it's the last one alive.”

You still, fingers falling to rest against his cheek. Aventurine’s eyes close, brows furrowing lightly against pale skin.

“Sigonia will fall, and only Kakavasha will remain.”

Defeat. It seems that what events occurred in that meeting room left no room for conversation. Guilt flows through your veins like it’s replaced the red, and your chest aches, latching onto the horror that no doubt holds sovereignty in his head.

Kakavasha. Blessed by the heavens yet cursed by the living world. Such a beautiful name that deserves no hell it endures.

Amidst the quietude, Aventurine’s hand slithers under the blankets, latching onto your wrist. He traces skin, knuckles brushing against your own, coming to rest intertwined.

“Can we try something?”

You nod, and your hand is slowly lifted to the air, palm against palm between your chests. You’ve seen this motion back on Sigonia, yet it’s always remained distant to you, and the words echo in obscurity.

“I’ll go through it once, and we can do it together.”

You nod, once more. Aventurine closes his eyes for a moment, reciting a prayer lost to you in time.

“May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you… keeping your blood eternally pulsing. May your journey be forever peaceful… and your schemes be forever concealed.”

A brief pause passes. You sigh in unison, and lock eyes. A voice whispers within the depths of your mind, and you smile.

The memory is always alive somewhere. It’s up to us to keep it.

“May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you… keeping your blood eternally pulsing. May your journey be forever peaceful… and your schemes be forever concealed.”

As the last words drift off of your lips, you bend your fingers, slotting them between his. Aventurine shares your sentiment; hope flashed in the gentle smile that graces his lips. Your eyes wander, and notice that a single tear trails down his face, disappearing into his skin as it rolls.

Outside, you hear the crack of thunder. You pull Aventurine in, and in your clutch, the downpour begins.

–

Some months later…

The chatter of voices on the phone rouses you from sleep, rubbing a hand over your eyes in annoyance as you come to. Light spills through drawn curtains and open glass doors, filtering the room in hues of honey and hazel.

“Mhm. Alright, I understand. Let’s schedule the interview for today.”

Songs of canaries and mourning doves flow through the air, and you sit up, raising a hand to block out the sun’s gaze. Aventurine sets his phone down on the bedside table, stifling a yawn with his hand. You roll onto your side, hand propped up onto your chin as you soak in the sight of your lover.

His hair is slightly ruffled from sleep, bangs astray and cast into his eyes. Only the top button of his sleep shirt is buttoned, leaving lean, sun kissed skin on display.

“It’s rude to stare, you know.” You roll your eyes, allowing him to pull you in for a kiss. “Morning. Sleep well?”

“Mhm.” You hum, knowing full well tonight has been one of the worst nights you’ve slept yet. Aventurine sees right through you, but chooses to say nothing, opting to pull you forward so half of your body drapes over him.

Today Aventurine leaves for Penacony. And, seeing as he was called in for a meeting, he’s probably leaving even sooner now.

He seems to read your thoughts, offering a comforting peck to the corner of your lips in apology. Your hands card through his hair, head resting against his collarbone.

You have your apprehensions about Penacony, having heard whispers on the streets of mysterious disappearances of people in the world’s famous dreamscape. The IPC has had a limited number of run-ins with the family, leading you to assume a recent grounds of suspicion has arised, and Aventurine was chosen as the solution. In his eyes, it’s just another gamble of life or death.

You’re roused from your thoughts by a tap on your cheek, making you look up at him.

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.” His words do little to soothe you, but you listen regardless. “The risks I take are always foolproof.”

Risk. It’s the word Aventurine lives by, a motto that claws at your heart when he’s gone. A reality that spills tears when he closes the door to your apartment, leaving only the ache of your heart in his absence. A danger that never guarantees the next time he chases his destiny will not be his last.

You will never fight to change it, because that’s all it is. Destiny.

His phone rings, and the two of you groan before he gets up and tells the person on the other line that he’s on his way. You watch from his side of the bed as he throws his clothes on, grabbing two packed suitcases from the side of the bed before bending over to give you a kiss. The touch of his lips is bittersweet, nearly taunting as it is over before it even begins. You peck him again, running a hand over his hairline to straighten his bangs.

“Be safe out there, Aven.”

He smiles, so radiant it rivals the sun and all that it shines on. You think yourself blessed to see it survive.

“I will. Luck is always on my side.”

And he leaves. You turn to the window, awaiting the rain.

#eleysiacalling #eleysiansighs #hsr aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #aventurine smut #aventurine x you #honkai star rail #aventurine hsr #honkai star rail smut

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honeytonedhottie · 2 months

Text

dear diary⋆.ೃ࿔*:･✨

keeping a diary is so much FUN and helpful not only for my mental health but for overall GIRLINESS. as someone who's been keeping a diary consistently for two years now, i'll be giving some diary resources and tips on how to get started and maintain a diary.

WHY ITS FUN TO HAVE A DIARY ;

i love to read past entries bcuz first, im rly rly funny and its fun to go back and read what i was writing about at that time and just reminisce on points in my life. it makes for great entertainment and it showcases growth that i've made and the way that my character changed or grew.

its been a game-changer for my mental health bcuz i have a little outlet where i can be completely transparent and just yap endlessly with no one to stop me or invade on my privacy.

TOOLS FOR A PHYSICAL DIARY ;

fluffy pink and purple pens

yummy scented glitter pens

past-able things (examples include ; cut outs from magazines, photos that you've taken and printed, stickers, memo sheets)

some print able and past able resources ;

decoration for the actual diary like glitter, stickers, ribbons, and frills.

for the actual diary , look for diaries that are pretty (for example, fluffy diaries)

more examples ;

TOOLS FOR A DIGITAL DIARY ;

a good writing tool (FOR MY DIARY, I USE NOTION)

cute headers + photos to insert into my diary, i find all of my photos on pinterest.

digital diaries are easily a lot less work then physical diaries which is why i keep a digital diary but keeping a physical diary is SO much fun too.

THE ACTUAL WRITING PART ;

everyone will write in their diaries in a different way based on whatever feels the most natural, but for me i start off my entries with "dear diary" and then write in the journal as though i was writing to a friend so its super comfy and relaxed.

i actually have a couple of writing outlets, so i have a journal and i have a diary. my diary is mostly for my day-to-day life. its updated 2x a week (tuesdays and thursdays) in my journal, thats less about my day to day and just random things i wanna write about.

STUFF THAT I HAVE IN MY JOURNAL ;

all about me

girlhood and the little joys of life

why im the most beautiful girl (with proof)

stuff i like

vaunting about myself

sweetest inbox letters (cuz ur all so sweet)

list of things i've consciously manifested so far this year

my car collection

tattoos i wanna get and why

my unholier thoughts

PROMPTS AND IDEAS ;

angel numbers

favorite song lyrics

list of things to manifest

a love letter (to yourself, crush, etc)

letter to your future/past self

lipstick stain log

current obsessions

pressed flowers

favorite sweet treats (ranked)

list ur crushes and celebrity crushes

favorite quotes in general

ppl that u look up to

doodles

all in all i think that journalling is such a fun and beneficial hobby and hopefully this post can help u to start something that u might rly love. ✨

606 notes · View notes

paradisedumpling · 3 months

Text

Like it's the only thing I'll ever do

_________________________________________

TROPE: bandmates!au; guitarist!yunjin; bassist!reader; silent pining; songfic(?); angst with a happy ending

SYNOPSIS: when a love song leads to a misunderstanding between two bandmates that are unawarely in love with each other, will they be able to fix everything and save not only their friendship but a future romance?

CONTENT WARNING: suggestive themes; use of feminine terms; insecurity; mentions of overworking; the characters are not good at communicating; not fully proof readed; author sucks at synopsis; feel free to tell me if I forgot anything!!

A/N: not one of my proudest works tbh but!! if you're interested in any of the songs mentioned/played I linked them down bellow!!

THE SERAPHIMS: track_1.mp3; track_2.mp3; track_3.mp3; track_4.mp3; track_5.mp3; track_6.mp3; track_7.mp3; track_8.mp3; track_9.mp3

_________________________________________

Nodding your head as you felt satisfied with the melody, your right hand left the strings to write down at the notebook in front of you.

Your fingers strummed the strings on the body of your bass guitar, a low humming coming from your throat as made up melodies in the empty studio.

Your brows furrowed together as you erased and changed a few words, writing the lyrics with better rhymes and harmonies.

"You don't have to say you love me. I just wanna tell you something. Lately you've been on my mind..." You softly sang, a smile plaguing your face as you thought about the person the lyrics were about.

"Then say it." You jumped in surprise at the sudden voice, turning around to see your bandmate Chaewon closing the studio door behind her.

"I didn't hear you coming." She laughed at your words, walking towards her keyboard and setting her things at the foot of the instrument. "What do you mean, though?"

She stared at you, an annoyed expression you were well familiar with plastering her face. An expression all of your bandmates were well familiar with. But you only blinked at her, making her shake her head in disapproval at your confusion.

"You should tell Yunjin you like her, you know." You immediately nodded your head disapprovingly, closing your lyrics book as if that would make her end the subject right there. But she kept on talking. "Come on! You keep writing songs about her that are so obvious even our fans are suspecting something! Just tell her already."

"They're suspecting something because they're dissecting the lyrics, it's different." You told her, getting up from the floor. "Besides, Yunjin already likes someone." You mumbled sadly, sighing as you and Chaewon began preparing the instruments for today's practice. "Half of our last album was all about this girl she likes." You grumbled under your breath, rolling your eyes at all the memories of her singing her songs with a big fond smile during practice and shows. "She spends every hour singing about how she's a thousand degrees in love with this girl and how she's her angel in the doorway and stuff like that!" You rambled, pacing around the room as you momentarily distracted yourself with your jealousy, rolling your eyes every few words as the lyrics of Yunjin's countless love songs passed through your mind. "I don't understand how someone can be so amazing to be such a muse to her and–"

"What did my spare drumsticks do to you?" Kazuha's voice halted you in your steps, making you realize you've been waving her drumsticks around furiously while rambling. You turned to face her, waving awkwardly as you watched the girl and Eunchae fully enter the studio and close the door behind them.

"Sorry, Zuha." You smiled apologetically at the girl, letting her sticks down on her drum seat. "I didn't see you two arriving."

"Clearly." Eunchae's giggles made you sigh defeated, going back to your bass as you dreaded what you knew would be coming in a few seconds. "What's with you?"

"Yunjin's unknown crush" Chaewon had a tone in her voice as she answered Eunchae you didn't quite understand, but the newly arriving girls laughs made you embarrassed enough not to bother much, simply wanting their teasing to stop and the last two remaining band members to arrive so you could finally begin practice.

"You should confess, unnie." Eunchae came up to you and laid a hand in your shoulder, her laughter dying down as she gave you a sympathetic smile.

"No, and that's final." You gave her and the other two girls as much of a serious look as you could, stopping at Chaewon to point a finger at her to emphasize your words. Then, you shrugged your shoulders, moving to plug your bass on your amplifier as you spoke again. "Besides, I don't want to ruin our friendship and break my heart at the same time, thank you very much."

"Suit yourself." Eunchae patted your back, going to check on her sound table to prepare for today's practice.

You thought that would be the end of it for now, feeling your shoulders a bit tenser at the idea of ever confessing to Yunjin. But Kazuha passed through you and dropped a comment that made you giggle, it managing to help easy your worried for the moment.

"That would make for a neat album though."

🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Scribbling down furiously, you crossed out another verse that would not make it to the final song, tapping the end of your pen on top of the page you are writing in a random rhythm.

So far you only had the pre-chorus and the chorus. And with festival season coming soon, you knew the deadline to produce at least a few new singles for the concerts was approaching rather quickly. But after Chaewon's comment a few days ago, you were afraid to write anything that'd be too obvious and give your feelings away.

You were about to write some new rhymes down when your pen was taken from your fingers, a pair of hands clapping in your line of vision mere seconds after.

"Are you even listening?!" Your keyboardist asked irritatedly as you looked up from your lyrics book to her, catching all of your band and your manager staring at you.

"No, sorry." You smiled apologetically, averting Chaewon's irritated eyes and instead giving you attention to Sakura, suddenly very aware of the burning gaze Yunjin was throwing your way. "What was it, Kkura?"

"We're discussing the setlist for tomorrow." Instead of the japanese girl, who answered your question was the person you didn't want to face.

It wasn't like you didn't like Yunjin's face, far from that. You would stare at her beautiful eyes and rosy lips and cute nose for hours on end if allowed to. But the realization that she caught you distracted writing songs about her made you shy under her gaze, and you didn't wish to embarrass yourself any further in front of your team and the girl you loved liked.

"What are we not agreeing on about?" You muttered nonchalantly, looking down to busy yourself with closing your lyrics book, tapping the spine mindlessly to try and appeal unbothered.

"I want us to play Nauseous and I Hate the Way." Eunchae chimmed in, sounding rather annoyed, which made you grin amused and look up at her. "Kazuha thinks we should play Sour since it's been a while and manager thinks we should play Sour and Wonder instead of my two songs."

"Chaewon and I think we should cover Paramore or Muse." Sakura gave her thoughts, sliding a paper with a few songs from the legendary bands the two girls thought could fight your band.

"It would be a great surprise indeed." You nodded at your manager's words, scanning the paper with a serious face, thinking.

"What about Yunjin?" You lifted your head to look at the girl after a few seconds, catching her intense brown eyes still on you. The girl flashed you a smile upon seeing you finally give your attention to her, laying her head on her hand as she leaned on the table, not caring that she was blocking Eunchae's and your manager's view of you.

"I'm fine with anything you decide on, pretty girl." Her words struck your heart sharply, making your heartbeat fasten in pace as your cheeks grew hotter. You lightly cleared your throat, forcing yourself to roll your eyes to look unfazed.

Yunjin was always confident and affectionate, it wasn't uncommon for her to disguise compliments as flirtatious comments. And you hated that you loved it so much even though she liked somebody else.

"Well then, Jennifer. I like the idea of the cover and I agree we should play Sour." You gave Yunjin a teasing grin, trying your best to match her energy as you snatched your pen back from Chaewon's hands and circling a few songs your friends had picked down on the paper. "But since we're approaching summer we should stay with Nauseous, it fits the season more." You glanced around your bandmates to see their opinions, muffling a giggle as Eunchae pulled Yunjin back to look at you better.

Once everyone nodded and began discussing which song you should cover for your next show, you relaxed on your chair and opened your lyrics book again, writing down some verse ideas that popped into your head after the previous interaction with the girl that managed to snatch your heart. No matter the situation, Huh Yunjin never failed to inspire you.

But you couldn't absorb yourself too deep inside your brain again as Chaewon asked a question that made the room be filled with tension.

"We could do an acoustic version of your new song."

"You have a new song?" Yunjin barely let Chaewon finish her sentence before she snapped her neck towards you, eyes a bit wide as she asked the question with a serious and curious face.

"Hm, yeah." You slammed your lyrics book shut once you realized Yunjin's eyes travelled down to it, putting both of your hands on top of it to make sure none of it was visible to the guitarist's eyes. "But it's nowhere near finished." You told the others, although your eyes were still carefully watching Yunjin's every move. Her eyes remained on your book still. "I barely have a verse yet, so it's a no for now."

The table fell quiet, everyone staring between you and Yunjin as you quietly watched each other, both being filled with bitter feelings you would hate to admit out loud. But what you didn't know, was that your members and manager all knew the reason behind both of yours defensive actions.

They alternated their stares between Yunjin and you, knowing the american's mind was brewing with jealousy at the person behind your lyrics, and knowing you were spiralling in insecurity at the treat of the girl you liked finding out about the reason behind your songs when you thought she was into someone else.

But what you didn't know was that Yunjin's crush was you, and the guitarist felt as much jealousy and hopelessness towards your love filled songs as you did with hers.

Chaewon had wanted to tell you two about your feelings for one another the moment your friends picked up on it, but Sakura had forbidden her from it. Saying you two needed to figure it out on your own for the sake of the band and your own feelings. What they weren't expecting whoever, is that you were both too dense to realize anything and too scared to confess and cause a strain to your friendship and harm the band.

So now moments like these were filled with an awkward tension as neither you friends or your managers were allowed to say anything, and you and Yunjin were too deep in your own thoughts to realize the room had fallen into silence.

"What is it called?" Yunjin let out in a tight neutral tone, bitting back her tongue to keep the venom of jealousy to spill out with the words. She stared into your face with intensity, searching any sights of the soft eyes she was well accustomed with seeing whenever you spoke about your crush. But you refused to meet her gaze.

"I'm still not sure... Jen, I–" You cut yourself, unsure of why you wanted to explain anything to her. Swallowing down hard, you licked your lips and spoke again. "Let's focus on tomorrow, guys." You gazed around nervously, silently asking your friends for help to change the subject. Luckily, they seemed to understand you.

"Yeah, Yunjin." Sakura broke in, bringing the attention back to the list on her hands. "We'll worry about it later. Right now, let's focus on the song we need to learn and rehearsing for tomorrow."

You shot Sakura a small but grateful smile, carefully turning your attention towards Yunjin and finding the girl slumped on her chair, fiddling with her fingers with a pout on her lips. You didn't understand why she looked upset, but you'd wonder about it another time.

Not wishing to embarrass yourself any further, your attention remained on the subject discussing in the table. For the remaining time there, your lyrics book stayed shut and tucked away in your bag, as did any wandering thought about your feelings for a certain american guitarist.

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A loud piercing sound invaded your eardrums as you slammed your hands in the keys of the piano, a frustrated groan accompanying it as you let your head fall back, eyes screwed shut at the headache brewing in your head.

Your bass guitar laid discarded on the floor, had long served it's tenor sonoric purpose in your composition. Surrounding your instrument, numerous paper balls of sheet music and ripped pages from failed ideas littered the floor.

Your back was aching from sitting without a resting place for too long and you weren't sure if your phone even had battery anymore, you didn't know where it was. All you wanted was to get the melody and arrange correct for your new song, but it seemed like every idea you wrote down and played didn't sound right. You were beginning to lose your patience for the day.

With another frustrated groan, you erased yet another failed set of chords. Throwing you pen to the side, you brought a hand to massage your temple when a pair of firm hands pressed down on your shoulders, massaging the tension away skillfully.

"It looks like a hurricane passed through here." Yunjin's voice entered your left ear in a calm whisper, her hot breath fanning on your neck making a shiver run down on your body. "Are you doing okay?" Her concern warmed your heart and you nodded at her question, leaning back on her body behind you with a satisfied sigh.

"Nothing I play is enough." The moment you mumbled that Yunjin's hands immediately left your shoulders to slide down to your front and hug you as tight as she could in the position you were in.

"That's not true–"

"I barely contributed on our last album!" You didn't let her speak further, cutting her words as you pressed down random keys in the piano, wincing as the loud sounds only made the pounding in your head worsen. "What am I even doing in this band anymore?" The phrase left you mouth in a defeated whisper, the exhaustion of a night full of frustration being spilled in the presence of the girl.

"Hey." Yunjin's voice was firm as she pulled back and spun you around to face her. "That's not true and you know that." She grabbed your face with both hands, squeezing your cheeks together to make it difficult for you to speak in case you tried to interrupt her again. You hummed annoyed, but she sent you a look that made you slump defeated. "The amount of songs you make for an album does not mean you didn't contribute to it. You're an essential part of this band just as much as any of the girls." You looked down feeling a bit embarrassed, but Yunjin simply lifted your head again, moving one hand to the back of your neck while the other moved to take strands of hair off of your face. Her tone became softer as she spoke again. "Besides, we all know this band wouldn't even exist if it weren't for you and your genius brain, pretty girl."

You rolled your eyes at her, but you didn't fight the small smile that made its way to your lips at her words. Despite all the frustration clouding your mind, you knew everything she said was true. Specially the last part.

Initially, The Seraphims was only a college project you made for extra grades and the band only consisted of you, Yunjin and Kazuha at the time. You all took the band as seriously as any college student in need of grades would and were all ready to break off as soon as the grading came out. But a friend of yours wanted the band to play at his birthday party and despite having only one song you wrote in high school, you insisted you all played for a crowd bigger than your classmates at least once.

After that night Yunjin was booked, but Kazuha still had her insecurities regarding the band. It took a lot of pleading and assurance from you and Yunjin to get her to attend practice again and eventually she was as invested as the two of you.

As the band grew famous and it began to be too much for three of you to handle alone, Chaewon and Sakura came to the picture through personal invites. Chaewon was Yunjin's dorm roommate and a talented pianist, and Sakura was your Valorant buddy and a great guitarist. The two butted heads the moment they met and for the first few rehearsals with the five of you it felt like The Seraphims were done for. But you pushed through every practice even if half the band was fuming the whole time and Kazuha was laughing so much she couldn't focus on her drums. Eventually, the two oldest members in the band found equal passions outside of music and a shared love for soju, becoming so close you couldn't even tell today that they screamed insults at each other every five seconds.

Eunchae was the last piece you were missing. During the making process of your first album, five young adults fresh off of music school wished nothing but to explore new sounds. And it all proved to be too much for Chaewon to handle alone during shows, so you and your new manager decided to open up auditions for a new synthesizer, something that was easily agreed on by the other girls. And thus Eunchae came in one day, a bright smile on her face and excitement oozing off her skin playing a remixed version of your first ever song Back To Me. Two minutes in and you all new that skilled girl would be the new member of The Seraphims.

Had you not glued the band together all those times, the six of you might have never been were you where or had met the wonderful person that Eunchae was.

"Okay, you got me there." You told Yunjin, giggling when she smiled brightly at you. "I still can't get this stupid song right, though." You turned back around to face the piano, rubbing your temples as you stared at the open pages of your lyrics book.

"Scoot over, sweetheart." You watched as Yunjin sat on the piano bench at your side, scooting closer to you until you skins were touching and her right leg was almost over yours, even if it had plenty of space for the two of you. You didn't mind though, turning your neck to the side as you felt heat rushing to your cheeks. Yunjin grabbed your lyrics book, reading the song you wrote for her silently while nodding her head approvingly. "How does it goes, princess?" You blinked at her, not fully understanding her intensions until she looked at you again and grinning playfully. "What? We did always composed the best together."

You smiled shyly, taking a deep breath and wiggling your shoulders to release tension before bringing your fingers to the piano keys for the billionth time that night, pressing the down as you began to sing softly. "Walk in your rainbow paradise..." You turned to look at Yunjin, eyes falling to her pretty lips as the words spilled from your own lips. "Strawberry lipstick state of mind." You quickly averted your eyes from her lips, looking up to find her intensely staring right at you. "I get so lost inside your eyes..." Your fingers stop playing for a few seconds, the next words coming out of your mouth in a bittersweet whisper. "Would you believe it?"

Yunjin smiled at your dazed face before turning her face away to read the rest of the lyrics from your book. You blinked rapidly, shaking your head lightly to snap yourself from the hypnotizing aura that Yunjin had. Her fingers brushing against yours made you turn your head back to the piano keys, her sweet voice entering your ears just seconds later.

"You don't have to say you love me, you don't have to say nothing." She looked at you, her eyes caring an emotion you couldn't quite pinpoint, but it made a familiar feeling set into your lower stomach. "You don't have to say you're mine."

"Honey, I'd walk through fire for you, just let me adore you. Oh, honey." You both began singing together, Yunjin getting the hang of the song even if it was her first time singing it. But anytime it was just the two of you in the studio, there was an undeniable connection and there was never a need for much words for you to understand each other. The feeling of her fingers brushing against yours as you played together was as familiar and easy as drinking water. "I'd walk through fire for you, just let me adore you like it's the only thing I'll ever do."

As her eyes stayed on yours, your fingers slowly came to a stop. You and Yunjin stared at each other intensely, your eyes darting down to her lips as you softly sang as a soft promise you didn't fully realize yet. "Like it's the only thing I'll ever do..."

Yunjin's hands left the keys fully, pulling you by the tights impossibly closer to her, as you now practically sat on her lap. Both of your hands held her shoulders for support as your breath became intense in expectation for what was about to happen.

One of her hands went to your cheek, while the other firmly held your hip. And for a moment, you stayed like that. Eyes never wandering further than each other's lips, hands firmly holding onto one another as tension grew around both of you.

"Jennifer." Her english name fell from your mouth in a plea, and in an instant she pulled you to her. Her lips crashed on yours in a messy but needy kiss, both of you sighing into it as your heart hammered in your chest from excitement.

Your hands pulled the hairs on the back of her neck and she groaned into your lips, her hand on your hips squeezing down hard as she tried to pull you even closer to her.

You felt her tongue asking for entrance and you tilted your head to give her more access, feeling the hand she had on your hips sliding up and inside your shirt to scratch your back. You arched towards her, breaking the kiss momentarily to sigh in pleasure. Yunjin took the opportunity to bite your lower lip, her other hand going down to the hem of out shirt, tugging impatiently.

But before things could get any more heated, the sound of the door opening made you quickly pull apart from one another in a panic.

"Do you know what time is it–" Your manager busted through the door with a familiar scolding already leaving his lips, but he immediately stopped in his tracks upon seeing the situation he walked into, eyes comically wide in shock. "Oh, girls! I'm s-so sorry!" He practically slapped his hands over his eyes, turning around and awkwardly fumbling with one hand to look for the handle of the door. "I'll leave you be–"

"No!" Yunjin pushed you fully off of her, scrambling to her feet as she ran her hands frantically over her hair. "It's okay! This–" She moves to walk towards him but stops. She doesn't look at you. Walking around the mess you made in the studio, she grabs her bag in the table you assume she must've left when she came in and you didn't hear. "I'm so sorry, manager-nim! This was a mistake." You saw her wiping her lips nervously and dread squeezed your heart hard. She wiped your kiss. "I should go."

"Yunjin–" But before you could get any more words out, Yunjin bolted past your manager and out through the door, leaving you panting and all alone wondering what the hell had just happened.

🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆

For the next few days, Yunjin had been avoiding you like the plague. Ever since that day in the studio, she would ignore your presence unless she really couldn't and had not once looked you in the eye like she used to.

Your manager had promised he wouldn't tell a soul what he saw, but your bandmates had caught on that something had happened pretty much in the first few hours of the next day. They had all tired to talk to you both about it individually, but if Yunjin wasn't saying anything, than you weren't either.

You couldn't look at the song you were writing anymore, or even spend extra time in the studio. Everything reminded you of Yunjin and that day and it all just hurt too much. You couldn't bear the idea that you might have just lost your best friend and the love of your life. It just all felt so hopeless.

Trying to talk to her proved futile as she ran away the second you caught her alone. You didn't really know what you did wrong. I mean, you were aware she liked someone else but she made the first move. She pulled you in her lap and kissed you. And you were sure if your manager hadn't shown up, things would have escalated to way more than just kissing.

You just couldn't understand why she was being so childish. Why she was so ashamed.

The different emotions you were keeping in your chest were becoming too suffocating to bear and you were afraid you'd choke on them soon. But there was no time to think about them right now, you had a job to do and a bass to play.

Your next show was in just a few minutes and it would be a lie to say the atmosphere in the backstage wasn't heavy. You would all be usually cheering yourselves together and goofing around to destress, but right now everyone was silently in a different corner by themselves.

Yunjin was the further she could from you running some last minute adjusts with Sakura on their pedals, that you were sure was just to keep herself occupied with work so no one would question her anything again. The clear tension had been stressin Chaewon so much she was probably snapping at a poor soundcheck trainee somewhere you couldn't see. Eunchae had been by the instruments silently side-eyeing you and Yunjin since the moment you arrived at the venue, clearly disturbed by whatever was going on between you and the american guitarist. And Kazuha had just brought you a bottle of water for the third time in the last ten minutes, asking if you were doing okay every time she did so.

You honestly felt bad for your friends that this situation had been affecting them and the band so much. But it wasn't your fault Yunjin clearly didn't want to resolve anything at the moment. And not knowing the core of the problem, there was nothing you could do about it.

Luckily, the time to enter the stage had quickly arrived and the show went smoothly up until fourty minutes through it.

You had just finished playing one of the songs you wrote about Yunjin and out of instinct, you turned to look at her with a big euphoric smile on your face, only to find the girl flirting with the fans and showing off her guitar.

It was a common sight in your concerts, but this time it fueled a rage inside of you that made you grip the neck of your bass tightly.

Yunjin had time to flirt with you shamelessly since your college days. She had time to play with your fool heart time and time again so carelessly. She had time to kiss you and abandon you all alone in the studio without so much of an explanation. And then she has the audacity of avoiding you and flirting with other people in front of you as if your friendship and the kiss you two shared meant nothing? You were mad.

Fuming under your breath, your hands slapped the strings of your bass guitar before you could change your mind and the crowd's surprised screams as they recognized the song did nothing but fuel you further. You could see from the corner of your eyes Yunjin and Sakura turning to you with confused expressions. You weren't playing the song you all rehearsed from your setlist.

But you were frustrated and heartbroken from all the years pent up silently crushing on Yunjin and being lead on by her flirtatious personality. Frustrated by finally kissing the girl only to be dumped and ghosted by the one you thought was your everything. And you've finally hit your boiling point. You needed to know if there would ever be anything between you and her so you could finally try to move on. If she wanted to be childish and not listen privately, then she would listen to you now.

"The crowd has come to a halt, the birds won't sing for you anymore." You sang with deep emotion on your voice, and even if they weren't understanding anything, Sakura and Kazuha followed your lead quickly as the song began. "Not like before."

The lyrics left your vocal cords with a venom you didn't know you possessed before, the crowd becoming blurry as your eyes filled with tears that carried all the feelings weighing on your chest at the moment.

The special effects team also caught up on your sudden change of songs as the lights in the venue changed colors to a dark red and you sang your heart out as you reached the chorus, not caring about anything other than letting you emotions out with the performance.

Yunjin was your first and only love. Yunjin was one of your closest friends. Yunjin was the first thing in your mind when you woke up and the last thing in your brain before you went to sleep. Yunjin was your muse. And you were hurting too much to stay silent any longer.

When the second verse arrived, you turned to look directly at the owner of your heart, only to be surprised by finding her already staring at you with concern all over her eyes. But you wouldn't back down. If anything, her seemingly out of nowhere worry after all these days of ignorance only managed to steam you further.

Looking directly into the eyes you loved so painfully dearly, you declared the next words to her. "You know all the words to the play, but all I wanted was you to stay." The realization slowly sinking on her face as you never broke eye contact made the first tear fall from your eyes, the memories from the day of your first kiss flooding your head alongside everything else and you bittersweetly sang. "Your time is running thin, cause I'm falling through the cracks under your floor."

For a moment it was only you and Yunjin in the entire world. Only you and Yunjin, and the rift between you two. Only you and the tears furiously falling down from your eyes. Only her and the guilt in her face.

And then you turned your attention back to the crowd again, the reminder of professionalism constantly in the back of your mind as your fingers burned above the pressure you were putting on the steel strings of your bass guitar.

When the bridge arrived, you leaned closer to the mic, looking at Yunjin from the corner of your eyes as you sang to her, the crowd and yourself simultaneously. "When the story comes to an end will it be the same again? When all the king's horsemen and all the king's men, they couldn't put you back together again." The bright lights stang your teary eyes just as much as the words you were singing stang your heart. But you wouldn't stop, you refused to. Even if they hit too close for comfort. "Oh, when the story comes to an end will it be the same again to you? " And when the last part of the bridge came, you fully turned to her, singing with all the emotion you could muster while fighting back a loud sob. "When the story comes to an end will you be the same again at all? At all?"

Your hands gripped the mic and you closed your eyes as you sang the ending high notes with all of your heart, not managing to hide a sob as the song finally came to an end. The loud cheers of your fans did enough noise to hide the small sobs leaving your chest as the stage became dark to prepare for the next song.

It was hard to ignore the worried stares of your bandmates, but you managed to compose yourself enough for the last remaining twenty minutes of the show. However as soon as it ended and you entered the backstage, the nearest member had to hold you as you broke down in tears.

Kazuha let you wail in her chest all the overwhelming feelings in your heart, rubbing your back comfortly as she desperately looked around for your friends for help. She didn't know what was going on yet and she had never seen you break down like that, but she would try her best to comfort you and you were grateful for that.

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The time between the ending of the concert to the moment you arrived at the green room was confusing in your fuzzy mind. You could hear people calling your name and shouting at others, but you didn't know who or why. You could only assumed it were your members and staff, but you simply let Kazuha drag you along, not bothering by anything anymore.

That was until Kazuha dropped on the couch with you and a very familiar perfume invaded your nostrils as another pair of arms circled your shoulders. It was as if a cold bucket of water was thrown on your head and suddenly your mind felt clear enough to react.

You pulled away from Yunjin as if her touch burned, turning your neck in her direction with an outraged look.

"Pretty girl–"

"Don't you even dare, Huh Yunjin!" You got up, wishing to be as far away from the girl as possible, a shaky finger pointing at her face as the room quickly became silent.

Everyone wanted to know just what the problem between the two of you was. Or maybe it was just because you shouted at Yunjin. You realized you probably looked terrible with your makeup all smudged and ruined, your trembling body and rapid breathing. Maybe they were scared of you or for you. But all you cared about was the guitarist's pleading look in front of you.

"But–"

"Oh, so now you wanna talk?!" The shame on her face did nothing to sooth your outburst and you almost slapped the girl when she tried to hold your wrist again. "I've been trying to talk to you for days, Yunjin! Days! But now just because I'm a stupid mess you wanna play best friend?!" You motioned between you and her with your hands, sighing frustrated when all Yunjin did was look down at her feet like a kid being scolded for being caught with their hands in the cookie jar. "What about the day you abandoned me in the studio after you know what?! You just pick what days you choose to care for me and what days you wanna play with me now?!" Yunjin looked up desperately, her mouth opening and closing as she searched her brains for any good answers, but nothing she thought seemed to satisfy her as her shoulders slumped defeated.

"I'm sorry..."

"You gotta be kidding me." You sobbed into your hands, not even sure why you were screaming at Yunjin anymore. You just wanted to get out of there and out of her sight. It was unfortunate you had to leave with everyone else, including Yunjin. "Am I a joke to you?"

"Okay, what the hell happened in the studio between you two?" Chaewon stood between Yunjin and you as she stared both of you down with that same annoyed expression you were well familiar with, except this time it had much more concern than ever. "We are not leaving until you two at least give us some light on what's going on!"

"It was a mistake–" Yunjin tried to say, but hearing that same explanation again shattered your heart in multiple pieces.

"Am I that disgusting to you, Jennifer?" Your voice came out broken with hurt, sobs leaving your mouth freely again. "If I knew that would ruin our friendship I would have never–"

"That didn't ruin anything! I promise!" The guitarist tried to hold your wrist once again and this time, you let her. Quickly, gentle arms circled around you in a firm hug, as Yunjin tried her best to comfort you. "I'm sorry, princess." She shushed you, kissing your forehead a few times before she brought her mouth to your ear, whispering gently. "Do you really think that about yourself?"

"Why else would you run away?" You sobbed into her chest, tears staining the fancy jacket she was wearing. You could only hope your stylist wouldn't scold you later for ruining her clothes. "Why is it a mistake to you, then?"

"Oh, honey, no." With a care you knew only Yunjin possessed, she held your face in her hands and gently wiped your cheeks. It was at that moment that you saw she had began crying too. "I was just afraid you'd hate me after I kissed you."

Whispers and murmurs filled the silence in the room, everyone surprised at the revelation of the core of your drama with the girl. You didn't miss Kazuha's loud gasp as she kept her spot in the couch next to you, neither did you miss Eunchae's and Chaewon's flabbergasted inquiries, or Sakura's hands slapping over her mouth in shock. But all you could fully focus on were Yunjin's glassy brown orbs that stared at you with deep emotion.

"I know you like someone else, gorgeous." She whispered sadly, caressing your cheek as she gave you a sad smile. "I thought you would hate me after that."

"You're stupid." The words left your mouth before you could even think correctly about what to say, a mixture of a sob and a laugh leaving your mouth right after. Yunjin blinked confused and you just let your head fall back to get chest again, mumbling. "You're the one I like, if that wasn't obvious already, you big idiot."

"Oh..." Was the only thing that left her mouth.

And for a few seconds, you thought that was it. Everything was ruined. You and Yunjin were over. You've lost your best friend. You've lost the love of your life. You've lost your muse.

Then you tried to wiggle away from her arms, feeling embarrassed and self conscious about your failed confession to the guitarist. But Yunjin tightened the hold she had on you, thus preventing you from escaping her. Before you could question her or try to scape again, she began laughing.

"Gosh! I am stupid, honey. You're right about that!" You gathered the courage to pull back slightly, now being your turn to look at her with confusion as she kept on laughing. "But I guess that makes you stupid too, pretty girl."

"What–"

"I like you too, baby." Your eyes widened at the revelation, a shocked sob leaving your throat as Yunjin grinned widely at you. "If that wasn't obvious already." She mimicked your words with a teasing tone, caressing your cheeks before gently squeezing them.

"Oh..."

"Finally!" Eunchae's excited scream served to remind you that there were plenty of other people in the room with you two, the younger girl launching herself on top of both of you in a messy hug. "I'm so happy!"

"I'm glad you both realize you're two stupid morons!" Chaewon's celebration didn't carry the same tone as Eunchae's, but it brought the same warmth and laughter to you and Yunjin. "Because you are! And much more!"

"Chaewon!" Sakura scolded your keyboardist, pushing the girl aside to stand of the three of you on the floor. "I'm glad everything is fine now." You knew her relieved smiled meant more than it did at first glance. The rift between you and Yunjin for the past few days had affected the band just as much as you two individually. And now that everything was somewhat resolved, you couldn't wait for your next show.

"As someone who has been here since the beginning." Kazuha's sobs were not something you were expecting out of this whole situation. But as she kneeled down and tried her best to hug three people with her only two arms, Yunjin and you had the same sympathetic reaction to laugh and pull apart from one another to hug the drummer. "I'm so happy you're finally over the kiss and confess part. It's been so many years!" She sobbed into your arms, laughing at her own crying.

"As much as I love you all and I'm glad those babies confessed, can we get up and go home?" Chaewon approached with a more calm tone, not being able to hide her own smile as she stared down at the four of you. "I think we all need to rest right now."

"Oh, yeah. Definitely!" After taking some minutes to compose yourselves, you all got up and began gathering your belongings to finally leave the venue, the atmosphere around your band much less tense as you talked and laughed on the way to the van.

"Oh! I forgot to say something!" Chaewon spoke the moment the door of the van closed, turning to look at the five of you as she sat in the passenger's seat. "While we're at the dorm, no se–"

"Chaewon!"

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"Have you ever thought about dying your hair red?" Yunjin mumbled against your shoulder as she mindlessly played with your hair strands.

"Yeah, maybe." She mumbled, leaning down to give you a peck on your lips before dropping your hair to pull you closer to her by your abdomen. "You'd look really good with it, babe."

"What?" You looked up at her from your laid position on her bed confused, but she looked serious. She was proped on her elbow behind you wearing an oversized shirt she got from your closet, that looked extremely cute on her. "Like yours?"

"Doesn't that go against the whole 'redhead x literally any other hair color' concept, though?" You turned around in her arms, drawing random circles on her back as you looked her in the eyes.

"Does it matter?" She pouted, going back to playing with your hair as she looked deep in thought. "I just think it'd be really funny though." She shrugged, scratching your scalp gently.

"Funny how?" You pressed a kiss to her jaw, not failing to noticed how she suppressed a giggle.

"Just funny, no specific reason." She mumbled, shrugging her shoulders again. You squinted your eyes and watched her face, trying to figure out what she was hiding from you. "Red is kinda of our color too."

"Right..." You watched to see if she would say anything else, but she didn't budge. So you decided to drop your suspicions for now. "If you go back to blonde, maybe then we can think about it." You leaned up to kiss the pout off her lips, bringing a hand to hold her chin and gently pry her gaze back to you. "Why are you so caught on this anyways? You don't like my hair now?"

"I love your hair!" Suddenly, she pressed you down on the mattress, propping herself with two hands on top of you as she spoke between pecks on your lips. "I. Absolutely. Love. Everything. About. You. Specially. Your. Beautiful. Hair."

"Okay, okay! I get it!" You giggled, pulling her flush against you and kissing her deeply, sighing in content before you pulled away. "I love you too, Jen."

"Jen?" She leaned on her hand to look at you better, whining in a way you'd almost laugh if you didn't truly know her. You wonder what your fans would think if they saw the big hottie guitarist from The Seraphims acting like this. But you loved it, so you'd never complain. "No baby? No sugarbum? No love of my life?"

A laugh left your chest loudly and you closed your eyes as you could contain it. Yunjin whined annoyedly again, and you had to put a hand on your chest to contain yourself.

You really loved Huh Yunjin.

Spinning the two of you around, you straddled her hips as you leaned down and let your lips hover over hers, not quite touching yet. "When you officially ask me to be your girlfriend I'll call you whatever you want, Jennifer." You grinned at her, pulling away when she tried to lean up and capture your lips. Before she could pull you down again, you left her lap and jumped off the bed, looking over your shoulder. "Come on, Jennifer. We have rehearsals in thirty minutes." You let her name roll on your tongue, laughing and running out of the her bedroom when she tried to chase after you.

🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You bursted through the reunion room with a big smile on your face, your lyrics book and a pendrive tightly held to your chest. "Good morning, everyone!"

"Someone looks happy." Kazuha said amused as she watched you walk around the rectangular table in the reunion room to set your things down at the short edge of it.

"You mean someone looks like they didn't get a single hour of sleep last night." Sakura mumbled, taking a large sip of her coffee as the early hours had her half asleep still.

"Details, Kkura. Those are simply details." Your words only served as a confirmation of what they already suspected was true the moment you walked in with those two objects in hand.

"Did you really pull an all nighter again?" Your manager tiredly rubbed his forehead as he averted his eyes between your familiar big smile and the pendrive on the table.

"Maybe." You mumbled, not being phased by their accusations as you joyfully opened the laptop and began setting things up for the reunion.

"Why didn't you go check the studio like usually?" Chaewon's morning mood choose it's first victim as she turned to your manager with a sour face. "Festival season is in five days, we need our sleep."

"I wasn't about to risk my mental health by walking in on those two again, now that they've made up." Your manager trembled under the memory of catching you and Yunjin making out before everything else unfolded. You could only give him a sympathetic look as Eunchae and the mentioned girl walking through the door with three bags on their hands.

"Makes sense." Sakura patted the man's back, nodding her head with a tight grin, probably imagining the scene he saw.

"We brought food!" Eunchae announced happily, pulling out delicious looking sandwiches from the bags and handing one to each of the people in the room.

"Morning, sweetcheeks." Yunjin gave you a peck on your cheeks as she passed through you, a big smile adorning her lips as she looked down at the pendrive you connected to the laptop. She already knew what it was.

"Okay, so!" You clapped once loudly, gaining the attention of your friends, and some complains from the oldest ones, before motioning to the laptop in front of you proudly. "I just finished the demo of our new biggest hit!"

"Can we finally play it in a show now?" The new information seemed to lessen Chaewon's mood as she leaned on the table with interest. "The first festival is soon."

"Yes, we can!" You told her, giving the girl a thumbs up as a confirmation of your words. "It's so good it might become our best concert so far!"

"So good it's Grammys worthy?" Eunchae asked playfully as she munched down on her own food, but her eyes sparkled with excitement as you confidently nodded your head.

"Come on! Play it for us!" You giggled at Kazuha's impatience, but complied anyways, being impatient yourself to show them your new song.

"It's called Adore You, and I hope you all like it!" As you opened the audio player and clicked on play, your turned to watch Yunjin briefly. The two of you shared warm smiles as the lyrics of the song that meant so much for the both of you now began playing for your friends. Soon, that would be the symbol of your love to the world.

🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆

The buzzing feeling the excited crowd gave you was never something you'd get tired of. The hot summer air had sweat dripping down your back and your chest heaving rapidly, but their cheers and them singing alone gave you all the energy you needed to go through an entire show with ease.

The sound of Sakura's ending pentatonic riff as your last song finished prompted you to look at your band in euphoria, finding them with expressions that held the same feeling as they looked over to the crowd.

"I hope you're not tired yet because we have two more songs to play tonight!" Yunjin's joy filled voice moved your attention towards her, giggling as you could hear some fangirls and fanboys losing their mind simply over her speaking. "I guess you guys still have energy left, so I want everyone to take their phones out! Come on! Everyone!"

Like stars in the night, the vast sea of people began being illuminated by balls of light all across. You stared at the sight in awe, your chest pounding from the adrenaline it gave you.

"You'll really like to record this, by the way." Chaewon spoke into her mic with a giggle. You turned to her confused, only to find four pairs of eyes staring at you with teasing smiles. You were about to question the closest member to you, Eunchae, when Yunjin's next words had you whipping your head in her direction.

"And I would like to dedicate this next song to our beautiful bassist." Yunjin extended her arms in your direction, giving you a flirtatious smile before blowing you a kiss, leaving you confused and flustered. "Babe, this is me making this official, my sorry for being so dense and my promise to love you forever."

You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but you found yourself in lost of words as Yunjin's victorious smile blinded you and your fan's impossibly louder screams made your ears ring.

"Red, red desert heal our blues. I dive deeper for you." You missed your cue as Yunjin and the others began singing, blinking dumbfoundedly at her. "What a blessing to feel your love. Twilight moments with you." She blew you another kiss before her hands went down to her guitar, prompting you to snap out of your surprise and quickly begin playing your own instrument.

You quickly looked over at the crowd, silently asking if they were seeing the same thing as you, before turning to the american again. I guess you now knew why she wanted for you to dye your hair red, it would indeed be funny.

"I've been asleep so long, I'm so far away." As Yunjin sang directly at you, not one moment looking away, you could feel the deep meaning behind them and the irony of it all. It made you smile lovingly at her. "Visions I see are strong, I hear what they say." Her loving gaze made you have a realization as words she said before passed through your mind again. This was Yunjin asking you to be her girlfriend, in the only way that would be right for the two of you. "Won't you leave all your fears at the edge of the world? I’ll tell you again like I told you before. I've been asleep so long, wasting away." She looked more serious as she sang the next words. "Tell me, would you pack up all your bags, stay true to North?" And you'd definitely say yes to that. Nodding your head rather rapidly, she gave you a short smile, understanding just exactly what you meant. "You're the only one I'd do this for." She motioned to the crowd with her head, blinking playfully at you as the second chorus began, her eyes not leaving you in any moment.

You didn't approach your mic and your girlfriend and the other girls sang the chorus. Instead, you slowly approached Yunjin, minding not to trip on any cables and ruin the moment.

Your girlfriend looked surprised for the first time in the night as her flirting gaze dropped momentarily, carefully watching as you stood right in front of her, the only thing separating the two of you being your instruments and her mic. You gave her a sly grin as you brought your lips close to her mic, singing the next lyrics looking directly into her eyes.

"It doesn't take too long to heal and replace." It felt like you and Yunjin had entered a bubble of your own, a vermilion ball of emotions enveloping the two of you in a drizzling love confession. "The demons we're running from, they're begging to stay."

You two sang the pre-chorus in unison, a smile growing on both of your faces as the lyrics went on. The happiness in your bandmates voices was, too, audible to you as this time, the six of you joined to sing the chorus.

The crowd's flashlights managed to enlighten the featured of Yunjin's face and in that moment, the guitarist was the most beautiful you had even seen.

When the bridge arrived, you brought your instruments closer together as you played the riffs with excitement. It was felt like you two were flirting through your bass and guitar, and you assumed it probably looked the same. Yunjin looked up to your eyes with a joyful grin. "I adore you." She confessed, playing with the words of the song you would sing in just a few minutes.

"I adore you too, baby." Her smile grew impossibly larger and you could recognize the prideful sparkle in her eyes, making you giggle lightly.

When the song finally came to an end, you barely had any moment to catch your breath as Yunjin pulled the neck of your bass down with one hand and grabbed the lapel of your jacket and pulled you into her, crashing her lips onto yours in a heated passionate kiss.

She let you go briefly, smiling widely at the fans loosing their minds and your deep breaths, pulling again for another kiss, a gentler one this time, but just as passionate.

_________________________________________

"Ready for another song, baby girl?" She mumbled against your lips after pulling away again, a teasing grin adorning her own lips.

"Oh, yeah."

a/n: this was just me shuffling through my pop/rock playlist and picking the songs I liked the most lol, which is why you can tell the angst was not initially planned and the some parts were a bit rushed cause I suck at angst but it's okay I guess hahahajdjsjk

thank you so much for reading!! <3

#le sserafim x fem reader #le sserafim x reader #huh yunjin x reader #yunjin x reader #huh yunjin #le sserafim yunjin

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bettymylove · 3 months

Note

hello! I really love your work and I was thinking if you could write a one-shot of theo inspired by the song " Open Arms by SZA ". but somehow make it a good ending? idk 😓 ( like a slow burn or something ) reader had to let theo go but theo is kind of begging..? for reader to stay in his life and so on! idk if I explained it good enough but you can search up the song and take a look at the lyrics, you'll see what topic I'm going for!

thank you if your write this! you're an amazingg writer ‼️

never leaving

pairing: theo nott x reader

content: your insecurities push you to break your friendship with Theo, only to realize you were wrong all along.

a/n: hope this matches your expectations, I'm sorry if it didn't<33 (also I feel like I'm apologizing in every a/n)

You could say that Theo took you in, he was the only person in your life that ever made you feel too comfortable. When you were on the train, he had befriended you and he never let his friendship falter.

Theo was everything, he was all you could ever need and it scared you how much you were dependent on him. You had never needed anyone, always doing everything by yourself but you could see that changing.

Friends weren't a usual sight in your life and Theo had changed that, but you still had your doubts and maybe that's why you had decided to tell him.

You always had a lingering feeling, that he was taking pity on you because who would willingly spend so much time with you, call themselves your best friend, he had no reason to do it.

You spotted Theo in the hallway along with Mattheo and Enzo. The former two were smoking, and Theo's eyes met yours, and he immediately threw down his cigarette, crushing it using the sole of his shoe.

His eyes stayed on you while yours diverted here and there, ashamed to even meet his gaze. You wanted to be with him, but he was ruining his life for you, he was way too enamored and you wanted to help him.

You reached the group and scrunched your nose at the nicotine smell, Theo noticed this and dragged you away. Why does he have to be sweet and make this harder? you thought.

"Theo, I-" You questioned yourself, he was the only person who knew you but it would be too selfish to make him stay, so you continued, "I don't think we should be friends anymore"

Maybe friends wasn't the right word to describe you two, you weren't dating but he never dated anyone else and it's not like you could. You always hoped it was because he harbored some feelings for you but that had been a foolish fantasy.

"Y/n, I'm sorry sweetheart, I won't ever smoke again, I mean this was the first time in weeks, I really am trying" what? he thought this was about him smoking?

"No, Theo it's not about that." you simply stated trying to make him understand about you suddenly pulling away. He stared at you, his mouth opening and closing as if he wanted to say something but really could find the words.

"You can't do this, you cannot wake up on a random day and decide to remove me from your life as if I'm a pawn in your chess board" he was almost yelling, Theo had never yelled at you nor had he ever gotten angry at you, it was always you being mad and him picking up on it.

You remembered a scenario from second year and how different times had gotten now, you had changed and him not so much but you guess it was for his better.

"Where's y/n?" The twelve year old Theodore Nott asked his friend and said friend just shrugged in response before saying, "She hasn't been talking to anyone."

You're mad, he knew you were you always shut everyone out when you were, falling silent and Theo knew just how to better your mood and so he headed in your direction.

Your flashback stopped when you saw a tear fall from his eyes, you had never seen Theo cry either, only once and that too not intentionally. He was showing every emotion of his and you stood there unable to think, mumbling a sorry before leaving him stranded in that hallway.

Theo was shocked, hurt, angry and was feeling all these emotions at once. He had known you for six years and you had left him in six minutes. He loved you and you couldn't see it.

He knocked on your door for the fifteenth time, and you finally opened it. Your eyes were red and puffed up, you were crying.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked in a small voice unlike the one he used in the hallway, he was scared to lose you.

"You don't need to take anymore pity on me, Theo, go live your life" you said with a sniffle in the end and your statement had only made him more confused.

Pity? he had never taken pity on you, and it hurt himself that you believed that nonsense. "You can't replace me y/n, I'm forever, no matter what."

You so wanted to believe him, you so wanted to be in his arms right now, you so wanted him to stop as he was doing right now but you just couldn't.

"I'm sorry Theo, but I have to" Those were last words to him before you shut the door and Theo couldn't sleep that night.

It had been 2 months, 18 days of you ignoring him and he thought he might go mad, you were driving him crazy, you not being there was so much worse than he had anticipated.

It was late in the night when he spotted you leaning against a railing, breathing hard, and when he got a bit closer he noticed you were crying.

He went to stand beside you, you flinched but then sort of relaxed when you noticed who it was. You laid your head in your hands and started crying even harder and without missing a beat or saying something spiteful, Theo took you in his arms.

It was much later that you realized that you could not live without him, he was your Theo. Your tears wet his shirt but he didn't seem to mind, he never seemed to mind.

"You won't leave again, would you?" He asked as if he knew you were coming back and he was right. "You could try, but this time I won't let you."

You smiled at him, god he was the only person in the world who would never make you feel bad about what you did, and you realise it was only your insecurities holding you back from him.

He kissed your forehead lovingly and hugged you even tighter, "I love you" he whispered, half hoping you didn't hear him, but you did.

#harry potter #slytherin #draco malfoy #theo nott #enzo berkshire #theo nott fic #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theodore nott #theo nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott fic #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theo nott one shot

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wildernessuntothemselves · 5 months

Text

Jealousy, Jealousy... | Final Part

A/N: this is the main ending. there is an alternative ending available for the other boy on patreon. the link for which is found at the end of this chapter.

Word count: 13k

Genre: Smut, angst, fluff

Warnings: fem!reader, mostly dom!reader, face-sitting, PIV sex, dirty talk, creampie, handjob, heartbreak.

“Hey, baby.” You greet Yeonjun, giving him a kiss on the lips. “Ready to go?”

You were picking him up to go home after a long day of work for the both of you. You had in mind a night of drinking wine and complaining about your day until you passed out in his arms and you can’t wait to get home already.

“Just a little longer, doll.” He tells you and you immediately start whining. “Junnie… those two bottles of wine I bought aren’t gonna drink themselves. We gotta get cracking.”

He chuckles tiredly. “While I appreciate your efforts to get me drunk, Beomgyu has composed a new song and I need to stay back to hear it.”

“Oh.” It’s still so weird to you how you now have to hear news about what your best friend is up to from other people. You used to know these things first. If this was a few months ago, you’d have already heard the song before anyone else did. But now you’re lucky if you even get to hear it at all.

But that’s for the best. You’re doing good with Yeonjun. You’re doing good without Beomgyu. You’re breathing. You’re eating. Your heart is beating… maybe even for someone else for a change. It may have been excruciatingly painful at first–forcing yourself to step away from him, not seeking him out to try to make things better after your most recent fallout, not jumping at the chance when he reached out himself, pretending like you’re too busy to see him, making up excuses so you won’t be alone with him, building up your walls so maybe one day you can stand in a room with him and not have to hold back every cell of your body from throwing yourself at his feet and begging him to love you, but you’ve gotten a lot better at it.

“Do you wanna listen to it?” Yeonjun asks when he sees your curiosity, but you hesitate. Should you? Maybe you should just wait in the car…

But when you see Beomgyu come out with his acoustic guitar and set it on his lap, you find yourself nodding and grabbing a seat next to Yeonjun. You miss hearing him sing. You miss being privy to his passions and whims. Maybe it's selfish of you to allow yourself the opportunity to witness more of him than you’re willing to give him but you never claimed to not be selfish.

As if Beomgyu shares your thoughts, he glances at you, hesitating for a second and you can see the thoughts flitting behind his pretty eyes–you know him too well. Is he thinking about kicking you out? Does he not want you to hear the song because you’ve been keeping your distance from him?

Eventually though he looks down at his guitar and starts to play, and as soon as the first words leave his lips, your heart drops.

Oh, I’m falling in love

As time goes by

As my feelings grow

I’m becoming more anxious

How deep is your love?

I want to ask

Couldn’t it be the same if not deeper?

Your heart lurches in your chest at the lyrics. Falling in love? Is Beomgyu falling in love with Haeun? You know you have no right to feel hurt by this but you do. Why couldn’t he have loved you? What does he see in her that you couldn’t have given him? Is she prettier than you? Smarter? Kinder? Funnier? What was it that made you fall short of deserving his love?

Seeing you change little by little

I’m afraid I’ll lose you

Not mine

My one minute, one second

Take them all

All my time is yours

Why?

Why have you changed?

Why are you so far away from me?

Now we are at different paths.

It hurts even more that it seems she’s not reciprocating his feelings. She has everything you want and she doesn’t even want it. He’s willing to give her everything but it seems it’s not enough for her. Oh how cruelly ironic.

She seemed to be very into him before, at least after the band got more popular, and with every increase in their popularity, she attached herself to him more and more, but something must’ve gone wrong along the line. You have known for some time that Beomgyu and Haeun have been having relationship troubles but you don’t know exactly what because Beomgyu hasn’t told anyone but you guess it’s really bad if this song is about them.

Is she in love with someone else? Has she lost interest? How could she do it so easily when it’s taking everything in you to do the same. Can she tell you her secret so you can stop suffering and give your heart completely to the man who actually wants it?

How can I go back

To our beginning

When we were looking at the same place

The when we had the same heart

I hope you don’t know it

This feeling

Even though I love you

I still feel alone

He’s hiding it from her, afraid to reveal his feelings–maybe because he thinks she doesn’t feel the same way, that if he reveals them she’ll reject him. You know that feeling all too well. You wish you could protect him from it even if he was the cause of your own similar pain.

As the chorus repeats, you become even more sure that the song is about him. You can hear the anguish so clearly in his voice. Beomgyu has always been so talented, always able to give his all to the song and live it as if it’s his own, but you know him too well. You know this is real pain.

I’m drowning in you

Don’t leave me like this

As the bridge reaches its climax, your body shakes, wanting to lunge forward and take him into your arms, to save him from himself even if it would tear you to pieces. But you can’t. You don’t have the right to anymore. All you can do is sit there and wait for him to finish his song, wait for the boys to discuss it as if it’s not his heart being laid out in the open to be dissected.

“What do you think?” He asks once the song is over, biting the skin of his finger, a nervous habit you’ve always quietly found adorable. You would always grab his hand and kiss the poor finger better, scolding him for hurting himself, but secretly you loved it. You loved having his hand in yours. You loved having an excuse to press your lips against him. And you loved the smile he would always give you in response.

“It’s really good." Kai says, impressed. "Didn’t know that someone as emotionally stunted as you could come up with such a moving song."

"Fuck off." Beomgyu mutters, not in the mood for jokes, obviously nervous to see what the others think.

“Yeah, I like it too. You said you’re thinking of having violins in the opening?” Taehyun asks, picking up a music sheet.

Beomgyu nods. “Yeah. I know we’ve never done that before but I feel like it would really add to the atmosphere of the song.”

"I think it could be fun." Taehyun hums, turning to Soobin. “What do you think?”

"I agree. It's good to experiment a bit while still maintaining our sound which I think this song does really well. It could expose us to more people while still not alienating our existing fanbase.” He praises and Beomgyu smiles, relieved at his song being so well-received by the other members. “I especially like the bridge part. I think once Yeonjun sings it, it would really elevate the song.”

Beomgyu's face falls at that but he quickly covers it up. You furrow your eyebrows. That can't feel good, being compared negatively with Yeonjun, even if Soobin didn't mean it like that.

You look at Yeonjun, who hadn't said a word so far. He was staring at Beomgyu weirdly. Did he not like the song?

You nudge him, giving him a questioning look and he just shakes his head, smiling at you before saying, "I like it. Good job, man."

Beomgyu gives him a tense smile in response, and the group falls into an awkward silence for a few seconds–a weird tension hanging in the air, before Soobin clears his throat and begins discussing how they'll play the song, what parts could be improved and who will get which part. You don’t really listen anymore, just looking between Yeonjun and Beomgyu.

Your boyfriend seems to have gotten over his weird reaction, now focused on the technicalities. Beomgyu is focused too but he doesn’t look as enthusiastic as you expected him to be–as you'd seen him get when talking about his songs before–and it's more proof to you that this is a very personal song to him.

As the boys finally break up after a while, most of them going their separate ways to pack up their stuff and get ready to leave, your boyfriend stays behind with Soobin, still discussing something with him. That’s when you spot Beomgyu alone, putting his guitar in its case, and you take the opportunity to go talk to him, unable to hold yourself back this time.

“Hey, Beomgyu, that song was really good.” You start by saying, wanting to congratulate him on a really good song but also needing an opener. But Beomgyu doesn’t say anything in response, simply giving you a blank look–which fucking hurt but you guess you deserve it–so you continue lamely, trying to get him to respond. “You’re really talented. I don’t think you’re gonna need to moonlight as a stripper anymore.” You try to joke but again he doesn’t really say anything, turning his attention back to his guitar bag which he zips up.

“Umm… Beomgyu, that song… is it about you?” You bite the bullet, and he finally gives you some sort of response, albeit nonverbal. He looks at you like a deer caught in headlights. “Is it about you and Haeun?”

“What?” He frowns and you explain yourself nervously, hoping you weren’t overstepping boundaries that have sprung up in your absence. “Well, the song is about a guy who loves someone who doesn’t feel the same about him and how she’s changing and being distant… is that what’s happening with Haeun?”

He sighs. “Maybe. So what?”

You wince at his callousness, like he doesn’t have time for you. You suppose you brought it on yourself with the way you've been avoiding him. Still you ignore it, determined to tell him what you think anyway. “Well, if it is, you should tell her. Tell her how you feel, she might feel the same way and you don’t even know. You might both be pulling away when all you want is to be with each other.” Yes, you know how hypocritical it is of you to say that but you can’t imagine a world in which anyone would reject Beomgyu’s love. “If you love her then you should tell her, right?”

He snorts. “What do you even know about how I feel? Do you have any idea about the amount of hurt and self-loathing it would cause me if she doesn’t feel the same way? How it would ruin our relationship if she’s not where I am?”

“I know.” You grit down on that same pain. “I know.”

He pauses, his anger burning out as soon as it ignites. Then he asks quietly, “Yeonjun?”

You press down on your lips. You know if you say no then he might figure it out. He might finally discover your wretched secret, so you smile and nod, fully knowing how hypocritical you are being right now. You’re such a fucking coward, you disgust even yourself.

“Right.” He is quiet for a minute, and the atmosphere is charged with weird, unreadable emotions that buzz in your ear and form sparks over your skin. You almost excuse yourself–not really wanting to leave despite how uncomfortable it is but knowing you should. You’ve said what you wanted to say. There is no good reason for you to linger around any longer.

But then Beomgyu speaks again. "Are you happy?"

You pause, frowning in suspicion at the unexpected question, which Beomgyu notices right away and clarifies, "We haven't talked in a while. I wanna make sure you're doing alright." He says, tone genuine… and a bit sad.

"I am." You allow, not being untruthful. You are alright, no matter how bad you feel doing it without him. "We're doing well. Yeonjun is as wonderful as ever. He is sweet and funny and he shows me something new everyday. Which is a bit scary for me–you know how I am afraid of change, but he makes it exciting.”

“I’m glad. I want you to be happy.” He smiles at you. It doesn’t reach his eyes but you know he means it. “And I wish I could be there to see it for myself. Do you think you can let me?”

That’s what you were afraid of. This is why you shouldn’t have talked to him. You knew he might use it to try to get back into your life, and you know how hard it would be for you to say no. But you do it anyway. You have to do it for yourself and for Yeonjun.

“I can’t. Not now.” Each meager letter leaving your mouth feels like a blow to the heart. It lays battered in your chest, asking you why the hell you would refuse it its salvation, but you just push it down again, silencing it.

“But I miss you.” His words come out choppy and weak, and you know he’s holding back tears. You hate him for it because it makes you want to cry too. “Don’t you miss me?”

“Of course, I miss you!” You whisper as if you don’t want the universe to hear it. "I'll always miss you. But I can't keep doing this with you anymore. I'm tired of the whiplash."

"No more whiplash.” He shakes his head harshly, getting closer to you but you step back, causing pain to bloom across his teary face. “I get it now. I've worked through my stuff and I'm ready to be a real friend again."

"Well, I haven't worked through mine.” You stand strong. Or as strongly as you can be under such duress. “I still need time and I will not have you rush me."

He moves back, shoulders hunched down. "I'm sorry."

"I know." You say tiredly before walking away, your bruised heart bleeding out at the bottom of your chest.

____________

Beomgyu’s song has become some kind of a local sensation. It is being listened to by a lot of the young people in your city–resonating with many youths who have gone through similar heartbreaks. From small unrequited crushes to the person you love falling out of love with you–who hasn’t loved more than they have been loved before?

The painfully relatable song has gained the boys a considerable amount of fame online too. They were being asked to do more gigs than ever. They’ve even gotten an interview, which you’re currently preparing them for, dressing them up to look their best on camera.

Like always, you’ve left Beomgyu for last, dreading being close to him still. And he gives you every reason to, staring at you the whole time you fix his clothes.

"What?" You finally ask, and he gives you a dumb look. "What?"

"You're staring." You tell him, and he averts his gaze. You can see from the ear poking out of his long hair that he’s blushing. "Oh. Didn't realize."

Oh, how many times you’ve teased him over the way his ears turn red when he’s embarrassed. It was such an endearing quality in him, just one of the many small reasons that made up the whole of you loving him.

You got back to styling him, pretending it doesn’t tug at your heartstrings anymore, and he goes back to staring at you.

After a long beat of silence, he asks awkwardly, "So what are you up to? What's new with you?"

"Well, I'm the creative director for this up and coming band's new song." You joke, trying to ease off the tension. Or maybe his cute involuntary reaction softened up your defenses a little bit.

"Oh, are they good?" He grins, falling gladly into your familiar banter.

"They are, but I think their bass guitarist only got the job because of his looks."

He gives an affronted gasp. "What the hell? Hater! What, you think just because he's so pretty he can't possibly be talented too? Us pretty people are always misjudged."

"Oh, you poor pretty boy." You reach out to pinch his chin, before you realize what you’re doing and quickly take your hand away, clearing your throat and stepping back. “All done.”

You give him a tense smile and turn to leave but his hand shoots out to grab your wrist.

"Wait." He shouts, and you look down at his hand wrapped around your wrist. He notices your discomfort and immediately lets you go. "Do you want to get together for some food or a movie or something?"

Why does he have to make this so hard? Why does he do this every time?

"Not yet." You repeat what you must’ve told him a dozen times before. You can't slip back into it. Because your skin still buzzes whenever you touch him and your heart clenches painfully around the hole he left in it whenever you see him. You need time apart to fully let the love you have for him go.

"When?” He asks, frustrated. “When will it end? What can I do to help? What do you need me to do so you can be my friend again?"

"I need you to give me space." You say firmly, standing your ground.

“But–”

“No buts, Beomgyu. You’re the one who made it this way. If you had been my friend when I needed you to, we wouldn’t have gotten into this situation. You need to deal with the consequences of your own actions.”

He stares at the ground, not answering you. You sigh, turning around to leave with no restrictions this time.

Though what you said to him about his previous behavior causing a rift between you wasn’t false, it wasn’t entirely the truth either. The other reason you felt you couldn’t be his friend again yet is that you’re still not over him, and you’ve made a promise to yourself and to Yeonjun that you will only be devoting yourself to him from now on, and Beomgyu being there is just going to hinder your progress.

But as you watch the boys do their interview, you can’t help but feel guilty for what you’d said to Beomgyu. You know it was the right thing to do, but seeing him look so glum, his light dimmed and his spirits down, you wish you had held it off at least for later.

He is acting nothing like his normal loud, talkative self. He looks down and doesn’t speak unless directly asked a question. It hurts your heart because you know the people watching this won’t get to see how funny and bright and passionate he is. They’ll see him as the quiet guy staring at his own feet. He might still get some fans who would be into the quiet, sad look but that’s not who Beomgyu is. That’s not what he wants to be known as.

But the rest of the boys are covering for him well, especially Yeonjun. He is so charming, you know he’s gonna be stealing hearts left and right when this airs. He certainly has managed to put a smile on your face despite all the conflicting feelings you’re feeling, and you make sure he sees it whenever he glances in your direction.

_______________

The boys are doing better than ever, more interviews and gigs coming in and filling their schedule up so rapidly they’ll barely have any free time soon. They’re already in talks with a record company looking to sign them. Which is why you’re actively savoring moments like this when you get to just hangout with Yeonjun at the mall, eating a snack as you take a break from shopping–one of your favorite activities to do as a couple.

“Just think, soon enough we won’t even be able to do this. We’d be getting mobbed by crowds wanting your autograph and pushing me out of the way to take pictures of you.” You say to Yeonjun, half-joking. It might really happen one day with how quickly they’re gaining popularity. They might have small fame now but who knows what tomorrow will bring, and you believe in the boys. They’re talented enough to do it, and that both worries you and excites you.

“Well, I’ll only ever have eyes for you.” He winks at you, and you give him a small smile.

In moments like this you should feel happy. You are happy. But your happiness is incomplete. It is shadowed by worry and doubt. Yeonjun is so wonderful. He is so sweet and he can be very caring, but sometimes you can’t help but question how much he really feels for you. It keeps you from letting yourself completely go with him. He tells you words that are supposed to be charming, but they don’t sound personal. They don’t feel deep. You know he likes you, but is he ever going to love you?

Maybe you’re overthinking it. This is what a budding relationship is like–the novelty comes with uncertainty. The first times come with doubt. The young fire sometimes burns. You shouldn’t let yourself ruin it for you.

Yes, your love for him isn’t as old and deep-rooted as your love for Beomgyu but maybe that’s a good thing. It will take time to grow and flourish and become something just as beautiful or even more so. In time, you can learn to let go of your all-consuming love for your best friend, cover that gaping hole that Beomgyu has left in your heart, forget about the way every time you see Beomgyu with her you feel like screaming out so loud the gods themselves will weep–

“Beomgyu.” You gasp, seeing him in front of you. Fuck, he’s like bloody marry. Call his name three times and he appears.

You try to hide, putting your head down and attempting to cover your face with your hair but there is no mistaking Yeonjun’s bright orange head and Beomgyu quickly spots you and makes his way over to you with Haeun of all people.

“Curse your stupid hair.” You hiss at Yeonjun just before Beomgyu and Haeun arrive at the table.

"Hey, guys, are you on a date?" Beomgyu asks as if there was any doubt about it.

"Yes, actually." Yeonjun tells him in a tone that clearly conveys that you don’t want to be disturbed, But Beomgyu doesn’t care, grabbing a chair and pulling it out.

"Oh sweet." He sits down. "How have you guys been?"

“What are you doing, Beommie? We have a lot of shopping to do.” Haeun complains, and every time you hear her call him that you want to claw her tongue out.

"In a minute, baby. Let's rest our legs for a bit." He motions for Haeun to sit down, but she puts her hands on her hips. “I don’t want to rest.”

“Well then you go on and I’ll catch up with you.” He suggests and she huffs, deciding to sit down after all. Oh, joy.

“But I can’t leave you alone, Beommie.” She whines, wrapping her arms around him and kissing his neck, making you almost hurl.

Thankfully, Yeonjun takes your attention away from them. “So, what new crazy thing is your boss asking from you?”

You turn fully to him, trying your best to ignore the disgusting intruders. “Ugh, don’t even get me started. This morning, she–”

“Boss? What boss?” Beomgyu interrupts, and you clench your teeth, preparing yourself before turning your head to look towards him.

“The editor of Elements magazine. She saw the Frost shoot and wanted me to do a pictorial for them.”

“Oh my god, that is amazing.” He shouts, startling Haeun who was so close to his face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

An awkward moment passes after his mindless question. Because we don’t talk? Because we’re not friends anymore?

Eventually, you decide to just shrug. “I guess it must’ve slipped my mind.”

“Right.” He clears his throat, going along. “Well, show me what you’ve done so far.”

You hesitate, glancing at Yeonjun who sighs and gestures for you to go ahead. So you pull up your phone, showing him some of the pictures you’ve already taken.

"Wow this is real artistic shit." Beomgyu awes and you laugh. Trust in Beomgyu to give such an un-nuanced but still somehow very flattering opinion.

“I don’t get it. It’s just a guy in a bathtub.” Haeun speaks up, obviously intending to antagonize you. “My friend Jiwon takes better pictures than this and he didn’t even go to college. If that’s what they teach you at school then you’ve wasted your money.”

Oh fuck no. You may be spineless but you won’t allow Haeun of all people to make fun of your work. You prepare to launch into a screaming match with her condescending ass, but before you could even open your mouth to speak, Beomgyu beats you to it. “Your friend Jiwon takes back camera pictures of weird strangers on the street and makes up an exaggerated or completely false backstory about them to try to make the obviously amateur pictures appear more interesting. How fucking original.”

Beomgyu’s quick defense of you makes your heart swell. Some things never change.

“Yeah? Like this is original!” She sputters indignantly.

“I know it’s nothing groundbreaking.” You interrupt their quarrel, “Like a guy in a tub staring longingly at the camera isn’t something that hasn’t exactly been done before but… umm, it’s actually inspired by your song. The colored water is supposed to represent love, you know the “I’m drowning in you” part? It’s killing him but he can’t get himself to get out. He wants to drown in it… I don’t know it may be stupid but I hope you don’t mind.”

"Oh. No, I'm… flattered." He trails off, staring at you wide-eyed. “I didn’t think I would be able to inspire you again…”

“Yeah, well...” You mumble bashfully, a charged moment passes over you as you stare silently at each other.

"Are you done?" Haeun complains, and for once you’re thankful to her for cutting the strange moment. "I'm bored. Let's go."

“We haven’t even eaten anything yet. Take a look at the menus and order something for us, won’t you?” He asks her, but doesn’t even wait for her response before turning back to you. "You know what would be hilarious. If you get the editor to let you do a shoot with the plastic watermelon dress you made."

“It’s not plastic.” You roll your eyes at him, knowing exactly which dress he’s referring to. “It’s coral organza.”

“Looked like plastic to me.” He shrugs with a mischievous grin on his face.

“That’s because you're fashion illiterate.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know I’m very fashion forward and hip.” He proclaims, sounding decidedly NOT neither fashion forward nor hip.

“Yes, because a punk guitarist wearing ratty shirts and ripped jeans is so revolutionary.” You drawl teasingly and he pouts, pulling at his shirt. “Hey! You were there when I picked these out. You said I looked cool.”

“Yeah, she’ll say you look cool wearing a garbage bag.” Yeonjun scoffs and you blush, realizing that you’ve completely neglected Yeonjun as soon as Beomgyu got here. You move back from your huddled forward stance to lean against your boyfriend.

“What?” Beomgyu asks and you quickly brush Yeonjun’s comment off. “Nothing. Now Yeonjun is very stylish. He knows all the trends and he knows how to make them work for him.”

Beomgyu snorts, glancing at your hand that is caressing Yeonjun’s chest. “I don’t follow trends. I make trends.”

“That’s right, baby. You’re a trendsetter.” Haeun coos, getting her hands on him too, touching him much more inappropriately than you were touching Yeonjun.

But Beomgyu ignores her once again, asking you, "How did you even reach the editor of Elements?"

"Oh, Yeonjun knew her." Your hand falls down to wrap around Yeonjun’s, squeezing it reassuringly.

“Of course, Yeonjun knows the editor." For some reason that piece of information really seemed to annoy Beomgyu. But you ignore his unnecessarily snarky tone and turn to smile at Yeonjun, hoping he’d forgive you for your earlier mishap. “Yeah, he’s amazing, isn’t he?”

"Yes, he’s great.” Beomgyu mutters, standing up. “I think me and Haeun have stuff to do. Let’s go, baby."

"Yes!" She claps happily, standing up too.

"Oh, okay. Bye, I guess." You mumble, watching them abruptly scurry off as you try to process the weird interaction. "What's wrong with him?"

“Maybe he’s just being his usual weird self.” Yeonjun shrugs, removing his hand from yours, making you frown. "Or maybe he feels inadequate because I was able to get you the job and he couldn't."

"That's ridiculous." Why would Beomgyu feel inadequate about that? He doesn’t have any obligation to get you work.

"Is it? If I was in love with a girl and another guy gave her what I couldn't. I would be pretty bummed out too."

"What?" The world suddenly screeches to a halt, as does Yeonjun. He looks at you, slowly contemplating something as if he doesn’t know that the world has stopped and is waiting on him.

Finally, he sighs. "I tried to ignore it. Partly because the idiot is trying to hide it and partly because I like you, but ever since we got together, it's been pretty damn hard to ignore. Beomgyu is clearly in love with you.”

"No. You’re getting it wrong.” You shake your head, hoping to get rid of the cotton that has replaced your brain, your thoughts feeling fuzzy and slow as they travel through it. “He's just upset because he thinks us dating will drive me and him apart… which I guess has been true."

"No, he's upset because he wants to be with you and it's killing him to see us together.” Yeonjun clarifies, irritated at having to explain to you how some other guy is in love with you.

"How can you be so sure? Did he tell you that?"

"He doesn't have to tell me. I have eyes…" He looks you up and down. "And well, I'm not stupid like you two."

"That's ridiculous." You denounce once more.

"You said that already."

"Well, it is! Beomgyu doesn’t love me. I mean as a friend, sure but not… like that."

"Oh my god, I'm dealing with two idiots. I don’t even know why the fuck I’m explaining this to you but here goes,” Yeonjun exclaims in frustration, obviously not enjoying this conversation any more than you are. “Think about it, no guy gets this worked up over just a fuck. His first explanation of his anger being just because he’s afraid our relationship is going to ruin the band was total bullshit. It was just to throw you off his scent and have a way to get you to stay away from me without revealing anything. And his second explanation is even more bullshit. Why the fuck would us being in a relationship make you lose him as a friend if he didn’t hold anything but platonic love for you? Why does he get mad every time you and I take a step forward in our relationship? Because he’s fucking in love with you. He literally wrote a whole song about how he’s secretly in love with you and it’s killing him that you’re not his!"

“That song was about me?” You ask and he gives you a look as if to say he can’t believe a single human being can be this dumb. “No, it’s obviously about the girl he’s been ignoring the entire time he was sat with us just so he could talk to you.”

Your mouth opens slowly, tongue dry as it forms the words. "Let’s say he does love me. Why wouldn't he just tell me?"

"Why wouldn't you just tell him?"

You sputter uselessly for a while, not really saying anything. Until you give up and just stop, submerging the both of you in a suffocating silence. You’d think that your thoughts would be racing a million miles an hour right now, trying to process all this information, but nothing is going through your head except one question.

Beomgyu loves me? Beomgyu loves me? Beomgyu loves me?

You’re only taken out of your looping thought when Yeonjun sighs again. "Well, this was fun while it lasted."

"What?" Your mouth hangs open, your frozen brain somehow still having enough power to be shocked.

"You're obviously still completely in love with him. When he's there it's like you don't even see me. You don't see anyone else." Yeonjun says defeatedly.

"No, I–" You try to deny, but he gives you a pointed look, daring you to lie to him.

“Okay, I love him but I’m with you.”

“Only to get over him.”

You shake your head vehemently. “No. My feelings for you are real. Don’t you dare deny that.”

“Maybe, but they’re not as strong as your feelings for him.”

“But they can be.” You insist–trying to convince yourself or him, you don’t know. Maybe if you give me the chance to–”

“To what? Wait and see if you’ll finally look for me first when you walk into a room instead of him? Pretend that I don’t know that time and distance haven’t dulled your love for him one bit? I can’t go on in a relationship where I know my partner will always be thinking ‘what if’. I won’t let myself be hurt like that by you. Not anymore.”

You tear up. You were hurting him? You didn't even think he cared all that much. You must be a terrible judge of character to be getting both boys so wrong. “I’m sorry, Yeonjun. I never meant to hurt you. I really, really tried.”

You really did. You didn’t do this just to get over Beomgyu. Yes, it was part of it, but you liked him too. You really thought this could work, and you really think it would have if Beomgyu wasn’t in the picture, and so you did everything in your power to take him out of it. You moved out from your apartment. You cut Beomgyu off. You dedicated yourself to Yeonjun.

But how can you stop your heart from beating for Beomgyu? It’s entirely out of your control.

"But you did anyway.” He says and you wince, one tear escaping your lashes and falling down the left side of your face. “Do you hate me?”

“I could never hate you.” He sighs, and your lips tremble as you confess, “I wish you would. It might make me feel better.”

“Maybe you don’t deserve to feel better.” His words pierce your heart, and you know you deserve every ounce of pain it inflicts.

“That’s fair.”

You’re both silent for a long while–you trying to keep your tears under control, not wishing for him to see it as any intention to garner sympathy or guilt from him, and him sitting there quietly, his thoughts entirely hidden from you, but you know there is pain and anger in him. You can feel it radiating off of him.

But eventually your tears dry out, and you gather enough courage to ask one last thing of him. “I know I have no right to ask this but can you not tell Beomgyu about us breaking up? I don’t want him to know yet. But don’t worry, I’ll gather my things and move out. You won’t have to live with me.”

"You're not done playing games?" He frowns and you shake your head. "I'm not. It’s just because you guys are working out that record deal and if anything goes wrong, I don’t want to risk ruining things for you.”

“Fine.” Yeonjun graciously accepts. “And you can stay. I’m not gonna kick you out into the street. I’m not that kinda guy.”

____________________

Despite your love for Beomgyu, your break-up with Yeonjun wasn’t easy. You really liked him and had grown attached to him. And even though you still lived together, you hardly talked when it was just the two of you alone. You realize with time just how hurt he is by everything even though he tries his best to hide it from the others–not just because they think you’re still together, but because he has always refused to burden his younger members with his troubles, ever the selfless older brother. It’s one of the qualities you both admired and despised about him simultaneously. You wanted him to share his fears and worries, to lighten the load on his shoulders, and for a short while you were able to do that for him, but now that you’ve broken up, he’s left to carry all of it by himself again and with heartbreak to boot.

You feel incredibly guilty about it, and you mourn for the love that could’ve blossomed between you had you not been so hung up about your best friend. The best friend you still haven’t talked to by the way.

Yeonjun's words have not left your mind since the day he revealed everything to you. No moment passes by when you don't think about them. But you haven’t confronted Beomgyu about it yet because the record deal was still underway, and because you weren’t sure if Yeonjun is even right about it all. What if he’s wrong?

Yeah, what? You'll ruin your friendship with Beomgyu? It's already in shambles anyway. Still, the rejection will be brutal. You've lived in the shadows for years. You're used to ignoring your feelings, that kind of pain is familiar to you now, but if you reveal them to Beomgyu and he shoots you down, you might not bear it.

You'll tell him soon enough though, after the party tonight. The boys have finally reached an agreement with the record company and the contract has come through. They're officially signed to a label now and tonight’s party is a small celebration of that.

You’ll do it after the party tonight. You’ll ask to talk to him after everyone leaves and you’ll confess everything. You're ready to come clean and end it all. Well, as ready as you can be.

But as the party drags on, you get restless, and when you spot Beomgyu alone, refilling his drink, you can’t help but steal a little moment with him.

“Congratulations, Beommie. I hear your song sealed the deal.” You smile widely, your lips buzzing with the desire to tell him what you really want to say–that you love him, that you’re proud of him, and that if his song is really about you then he needs to know that you’ve always been his.

“Yeah. I’m not so useless after all.” Beomgyu’s reply is short and bitter.

“What?”

Yeonjun’s words ring in your ears. If I was in love with a girl and another guy gave her what I couldn't. I would be pretty bummed out too. Is this Beomgyu being insecure like Yeonjun said?

But before you can get him to clarify what he means, Haeun comes running over, incapable of leaving him alone for more than a minute. Can you really blame her? If you had him, you would never let him go either.

“Baby, there you are! My star boy.” She throws her arms around him, pulling him into an open mouthed kiss that makes you want to vomit.

You quickly retreat, not having missed the soft-core porn you used to witness while living with Beomgyu. Fucking Yeonjun, is this what he calls Beomgyu being in love with you? You don’t see him pushing her away or anything. He seems pretty happy with the kiss if his tongue in her mouth is any indication.

"Foul." You mutter, swigging your cider, almost choking on it when a voice speaks up next to you. "That can't be good for the heart, huh?"

You look at Yeonjun sheepishly, not sure if you can talk to him about this. After all, you did break up because of your love for the man currently getting his face sucked off by Haeun. So you just settle on mumbling out a weak yeah.

"Well, you know you could always fix it by confronting him about his undying love for you." He tells you and you can’t help but snort, annoyance overcoming your trepidation. "Yeah, right. He's so heartbroken, he's going to drown his sorrows in her pussy."

“He’s just doing this because he thinks we’re still together. If he knows you’re free, I can guarantee you he’ll be dropping her so fast she won’t hit the ground before he’s on his knees for you.”

“How can you be so confident?” You ask and he shrugs. “Once you see it, you can’t unsee it.”

He walks away, leaving you to think over his words. Funny, that’s how you feel about the sight still playing out in front of you, the disgusting view getting burned into your retinas.

Deciding you needed a break, you slip away from the living room, heading towards the bathroom to wash your face off. But on the way there, you pass by your old room, stopping when you see the door slightly cracked open.

Your feet take you inside without you realizing it, compelled by curiosity to see what he’s done with the room in your absence. Has he turned it into a gaming room? Is he using it for storage? Is he letting her use it as her own? Oh, god, you really hope not. Anything but that.

But you’re surprised when you step inside and find it mostly empty except for your old mattress and a few items you must’ve forgotten during your move. A T-shirt here, a sleeping mask there–they were all strewn around on your bed with the odd piece of clothing from Beomgyu himself in the mix.

You step closer, examining the items when something in particular catches your eyes. A flash of pink under a pillow that makes you reach forward to pull it out, realizing just what it was once it’s in your hands–a pair of pink panties. Your pink panties that you’d been missing for a while. Why does Beomgyu have this? You thought he just used this because he was so pent up he needed any form of release but now Haeun is never off his dick so why does he still do this?

Could Yeonjun have been right all along?

As you continue to hold it in your hands, puzzling over it, you hear the door open and close behind you and Beomgyu’s panicky voice calling out your name.

"What are you doing in here?" He squeaks as if this wasn’t your room. Well, your old room but still. It’s not like he made any changes to it yet.

You turn to face him with the panties in your hands, silent, and his eyes grow wide as he stammers, trying to explain himself. “These are old.”

“They’re wet.” You say plainly, which means he has just used them, and he knows it too.

He scoffs, attempting to appear unaffected. As if this is just a completely reasonable situation that you’ve blown way out of proportion. “Well–it’s just–they were on hand.” He gives you what may possibly be the flimsiest excuse in history.

Once you see it, you can’t unsee it.

"Did you leave these out for me to see?" You question, and he rushes to deny. "No! I just forgot to put them away."

His eyes widen again at what he just said, basically admitting that he took them from you on purpose to do with them exactly what you had in mind. God, he's such a stupid loser.

You walk towards him until you’re standing right in front of him, leaving him no room to breathe. “Make everyone leave.”

“It’s our celebratory party, I can’t just–”

You grab his hand and put it under your skirt, pressing his fingers against your warm pussy. “And I want to give you your reward. Make them leave.”

He looks at you, shocked, and suddenly you realize what you're asking of him. You're coming onto him after weeks of ignoring him. You're asking him to have sex with you when he has a girlfriend–when he thinks you have a boyfriend. Oh god.

But then he gulps and says. "Okay."

You watch from behind the door as he stops the music and kicks everyone out, telling them that he doesn’t feel good and needs to rest, and when Kai complains loudly, he asks him if he’d like to stay back and hold his hair while he vomits. That quickly convinces everyone to take the party elsewhere, even his girlfriend. But one person knows better, and you see him peeking around Beomgyu to catch your hidden eyes. You share a look before he turns around and leaves the apartment. This is it. You’re going to do this.

As soon as Beomgyu comes back, you pull him into a kiss, releasing your overflowing nerves with each frustrated and needy moan you let out against his lips. Fuck, you missed kissing him so much. His lips may not be as soft as Yeonjun’s–he may not be as good of a kisser–but god does he still make your heart sing.

“Strip.” You order when you finally tear yourself away from him, though Beomgyu doesn’t make it easy, resisting you the first couple of times you try and pulling you right back into the hungry kiss. But you finally do, and Beomgyu doesn’t hesitate to follow your cue then.

After he’s all stripped down, he looks at you, gaze speaking of his own need to devour you. “Will you strip too?”

“Do you want it?” You ask, putting on an alluring voice but deep down you were just nervous about letting him see you fully for the first time. Even though your experience with Yeonjun has made you gain confidence, you’re still insecure, especially when it comes to Beomgyu. You want to impress him. You want him to think you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. You want him to forget about her. You want him to only think of you.

Naturally, that is a lot to live up too.

Beomgyu nods enthusiastically, somehow managing to come across as adorable in this situation. “Yes, please. Take it all off.”

He tries to reach out to do it himself but you shake your head, pushing him onto the bed.

“No. We do this my way.” You tell him, and he nods again, keeping himself in check.

You reach for the zipper on your dress, hesitantly letting it fall to the floor. You aren’t wearing any bra so now you are almost nude except for your panties as you stand in front of him.

“Fuck. You’re so hot.” He takes his cock into his hand, pumping it as he leers at you. You should feel dirty having him openly masturbate to the sight of you but it makes you feel so fucking good about yourself. It’s just what you needed–for him to show you how much he wants you. “Please, take off your panties too. Wanna see your pussy.”

Despite his lewd display–or more accurately because of it–you’re given the courage to finally fully undress yourself in front of him, overcoming years of insecurities of what he’ll think of your body and any unfavorable comparisons he might make.

“Oh fuck–” He licks his lips, squeezing his cock as he stares at your pussy. “You’re perfect.”

“You think so?” You ask demurely, trying to hide your shock. Is he really telling the truth? It feels like it but you still need confirmation after years of doubting yourself.

“God, yes. Your tits are divine. I wanna suck on them and play with them all night. Your little pussy is so pretty, I wanna be buried in it forever. Come here, please, ride me, sit on my face, anything…”

Is this what you were worried about all these years? He looks pretty fucking happy with what he’s seeing. Why were you so scared? You’re so mad at yourself for wasting all this time with self-doubt when you could’ve had him long ago.

“You really need that?” You throw your panties at him, feeling more confident than ever after his proclamations. “Isn't this usually enough for you?”

“No, please, you said you’d give me a reward." He whines, distraught at the thought of you being so close but not attainable yet again. "I’ve been good.”

“Have you?” You scoff, straddling him, pressing your pussy against his cock and his body goes limp, letting you do what you want. “You’ve been nothing but a horndog, getting your rocks off wherever you can, whether it’s backstage getting sucked off by her or stealing my panties and fisting your cock with them. You’ve been such a bad boy.”

“I’m sorry.” He slurs, mouth hanging open.

"Are you? You seem to be enjoying this."

"I'm sorry." He repeats again, staring at your pussy as it moves forwards and backwards over his cock, covering it in your slick.

"You're fucking hopeless, Beomgyu. You'd do anything to get a piece of me, huh?"

"Yes." He nods eagerly, "Can you sit on my face?"

You laugh, climbing up his body until you’re hovering over his face and digging your fingers in his hair to keep his head down so he wouldn’t make any unwanted moves before you’re ready. "Is my pussy the only thing on your empty brain?"

"Uh-huh." He says dumbly, almost going cross eyes with the way he's staring at your pussy. You fucking love it. This is what you needed–to be needed. And Beomgyu gives it all to you without you even asking for it.

"Good boy." You tell him and he shoots you a searing look at that–at you finally calling him that again–before you sit down on his face.

You try not to put too much weight on him, not wanting to hurt him but Beomgyu has other ideas. He grabs your ass and pulls you down on his ready mouth, tongue flicking out to give eager licks to your already wet pussy.

"Bad–bad boy–" You hiss, pulling at his hair but he won't let go, too intent on eating you out, nuzzling his whole lower face into your pussy, his tongue and lips alternating between long messy licks and needy sucking motions, his nose brushing against your clit every now and then in his fervor.

"Fuck, Beomgyu slow down."

But that word isn't in Beomgyu's dictionary, not when he's wanted this for so long. His fingers dig into your ass, making sure you can’t escape as his tongue presses inside your hole, flicking around as much as he can while your pussy flutters around it.

"So good–tastes so good." He slurs, drool and your juices covering his lower face but he doesn’t even care. In fact if anything it turns him on if his hard, leaking cock that you see when you throw a glance backwards is anything to go by.

"You fucking the air, Beommie?" You pant, not faring much better than him but needing to tease him anyway. "Need my pussy this bad?"

But Beomgyu can't be teased. Not when he's so shameless.

"Yes. Will you sit on my cock?"

"How bad do you need it?" You sit up, pulling away from him and cutting off strings of your combined need.

"So bad. Feels like I might die without it."

"You sound like a horny fuckboy, Beommie. You know I only like good boys." You chastise, and Beomgyu shoots back, "Is that why you’re dating a whore?"

You growl, sinking back on his face, this time not caring so much about your weight over him. "Don't talk about Yeonjun like that."

He turns his face to the side to nip at your thigh in protest so you just straighten his head again and sit down on him fully, not allowing him any space to move. "You know the only whore here is you. So stick your tongue out like a good whore and let me ride it or I'll leave your dirty cock all red and weeping."

He whines in fear, sticking his tongue out for you, not daring to risk it. You move yourself over him, grinding your pussy over his tongue as he stares up at you pleadingly.

“You like it, baby? You like me using you to get off?”

He moans out in response, not having any other way to communicate his agreement and not willing to pull away from you. But you hear a wet noise coming from behind you and you look back to see him fisting his cock, clearly excited by it all. He wants this as much as you do. He has been begging for it for so long, and so you’re not so cruel as to make him take his hand away, but you need to make sure your excitement doesn’t end too soon.

“Fuck, you really wanted this, huh? Can’t help yourself whenever you get a taste of this pussy?” You tease, and he whines again, his cock thrusting into his own fist pitifully. “But don’t get too excited. You want to feel this pussy around you, don’t you?”

The needy noises he keeps letting out vibrate against your pussy, driving you even wilder as you pull on his hair harshly and desperately grind yourself on his tongue, your high so close you could taste it.

“Good boy, gonna make me cum… you want it? Want me to cum all of that pretty face?” You growl, and his hands leave his cock to grab your ass, pressing you so tightly against him, you worry that he won’t be able to breathe.

But Beomgyu clearly loves it. He wants you to do it. He moves your hips so you’re fucking his face harder, faster, all while those slutty eyes of his never leave your face.

“I’m cumming–fuck, Beommie… good boy–” You scream, shuddering as you cum over him. But as you stop moving, paralyzed by the intense orgasm, he starts moving his tongue, lapping up every drop you let out, giving your pussy open mouthed filthy kisses as he wraps his lips around you and eagerly sticks his tongue into your hole to get even more.

You have to pull away from him when it becomes too much, and Beomgyu chases after you, not having had his fill yet somehow. He's still so needy that he ends up pushing you down and laying over you, his lips incessant against yours as his cock lays heavy on your pussy.

You tug on his hair, finally detaching his lips from yours. "That's enough, Beomgyu."

“I made you cum.” He says in a daze, a stupid smile on his face.

“Yes, you did.” You wipe his bottom lip with your thumb before sticking it in his mouth, letting him suck on it. It’s useless of course. The entire bottom half of his face was glistening with your cum. Not that you were actually trying to clean him up. You liked seeing him covered in you too much. “Ready for your reward, baby?”

“Fuck, yes, please.” He groans, his hips bucking up against you, gliding his cock against your wet pussy. "Wanna fuck you so bad. Can I put it in now?"

"Are you gonna keep being a good boy for me? Gonna listen to my instructions and not let your cock take over your dumb brain and make you hump me like a dog?"

He shakes his head even though he was literally humping you right now. "I'll listen. I'll be so good."

"Okay, Beommie. You can put it in–slowly!"

He rushes to push his cock inside your pussy, only stopping when it's all the way inside you. "Oh god–I'm finally inside you. Wanted it for so long."

This is exactly what you had been missing. This is what you needed that Yeonjun wasn't able to give to you. Beomgyu isn't shy when expressing how much he wants you. He'll beg and plead until you give it to him.

"Can I move, baby?" He asks, voice strained with the effort of holding back.

You nod. "Go ahead. But slowly."

He makes a valiant effort, pulling his hips back and thrusting in slowly, shuddering every time his cock is fully enveloped by your pussy.

“Good?" You ask as if his mouth wasn't hung open, as if his eyes weren't all hazy, as if he wasn't holding onto you for dear life.

"So good. Can't believe I'm fucking you."

Neither can you. You had really begun to lose hope but here you are, laid on your back with Beomgyu fucking you, following your instruction as best he could–the strain of it obvious on his face. It's everything you wanted and you finally have it.

"Can I touch your tits?" He pleads, giving you his classic puppy eyes and you smile. "Go ahead, honey."

He groans, reaching out and cupping them in his hands. "Oh god. Missed them." He leans down and attaches his lips to them, biting and kissing all over them as his hips pick up speed.

"Beomgyu…" You warn, pulling on his hair. He fights against you, looking up but not detaching from your tits. "Don't get ahead of yourself now. You want me to feel good too, don't you?"

He nods, his face still firmly buried in your lips but finally letting go of your nipple to moan out, "Yes, wanna make you feel better than anyone else."

His own words rile him up and he bites down on the skin next to your areola, making sure not to hurt you but still expressing his frustration.

"You're such a bratty baby." You scold him, but in reality you love it. You love how possessive and needy he is acting. It doesn't allow a single negative or insecure thought to enter your mind. How could it when he's so obvious about his need for you? "You can go faster now, baby."

"Oh, thank you." He groans, hips picking up speed.

"Better, honey?" You pant, brushing his wet hair out of his face so you can fully see how lost he is in the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him.

"So much better. Never wanna stop." He leans down, kissing you harshly, lips opening and closing around yours, his tongue pressing into your mouth hungrily. His hands grab at your thighs, pushing them against your body as he goes even faster, a constant stream of whines and whimpers released into your mouth.

You force yourself to sober up despite the smoldering fire breaking out in your body from the way he's fucking you so good. You want him to keep going. You want him to keep fucking you until your mind has turned to mush and your limbs have turned to jelly. But you can’t let him have it this easily. You can't let him get away with the amount of pain and suffering he has caused you. He needs to feel it too, even if just a fraction of it. He needs to feel the longing and despair he has made you feel for so long.

"Slow down." You order, pulling his head away from you, doing it extra mean just the way he likes it.

"No, no, please." He cries, not slowing down. "Please… I thought this was a reward. You’re driving me crazy."

"Do you want me to push you down and tie your hand to the headboard to make sure you behave?" You threaten, trying to keep your voice under control against the incessant thrusts of his cock into your poor pussy. "It's only gonna be worse for you."

"No. No. Wanna keep touching you." He blabbers, hands groping at every inch of you he could reach, worried you'd make good on your threats.

"Then be good." You suck in a sharp breath as he pulls on your nipples before kneading the soft flesh.

"I will. I'm your good boy, right?" He slurs, his hips slowing down.

Damn, he's really addicted to hearing you say that, huh?

"Yes, you are. You’re my best boy." You coo, stroking his soft hair and he nuzzles into your hand like a puppy, seeking any form of contact with you.

"Thank you." He groans, fingers digging into your skin as he tries to hold himself back, his poor cock screaming at him to just take you like he wants. "So pretty. Look so pretty getting fucked."

"Yeah? Is it how you imagined it when you'd fuck my panties?" You ask but once again Beomgyu has no shame, his hips faltering at the reminder of his debauched actions.

"Better. So pretty. So tight. Could stay in your cunt forever." He almost drools at the thought, and you really believe he'd love to do just that.

"Dirty boy. Dirty little boy going all dumb for me." You stroke his face lovingly and he peers at you with pleading eyes. "Baby, please, hurts… can I go faster?"

"Aw, poor pup, do you need to hammer your cock into my pussy that bad?" You scold, giving his face light slaps.

"Uh-huh… will make you feel good. I promise." He babbles, his hips already going faster as if he's sure you'll give him permission.

"No." This may or may not be the one and only time you get to fuck him. You need to savor it. "Slow down."

Your hands go to his hips, clawing at his skin to slow down his thrusts and he relents, albeit begrudgingly. "You're so mean."

"But you love it." You laugh at his tearful pout. "God, you love it so much you can't stop shaking your hips like a whore. It's like you've never been fucked before.”

"I haven't. You’re my first.” He admits, knocking any remaining breath out of your lungs.

This is his first time. He and Haeun never did it? What the fuck?

"Did you let him fuck you?" He asks, and you stay silent. He knows you’ve fucked Yeonjun. There is no way he thinks you live with Yeonjun and aren’t fucking him. But then again, he hasn’t fucked Haeun, and you were so sure that he did.

"Did you?" He asks again, an edge to his voice and you nod minutely. "I didn't know. I thought you and Haeun–"

Beomgyu's whole face changes. "God, you're such a slut. Fucking two men at the same time."

You immediately get defensive. Yeonjun was your boyfriend. You had dated for months. You’re not a whore for fucking him. It would be more understandable if he’s referring to the fact (or what he thinks is a fact) of you fucking him when you have a boyfriend, but you’re almost certain that’s not what he’s upset about. He’s just jealous you’ve fucked Yeonjun at all. "Just because she won't let you put it in, doesn't make me a slut."

That just angers him more, and he practically bends you in half as his dick pumps in and out of you at a brutal pace, his anger at what you’ve done making him lose it, not caring about your instructions anymore. "I hate you."

You laugh, fighting hard to hide the pain his statement elicits in your gut as well as to keep your voice steady as he practically plows his cock into you. God, he makes you so mad but he’s fucking you so good.

"But you sure love my pussy."

"My pussy." He growls, catching you off guard once again. He bends his head down to kiss your neck harshly, and can already feel the marks blooming there under his teeth. "Mine. Not his. All mine."

"What?” You sputter. Is this it? Is this how he confesses to you? “Beomgyu, what–”

"Shut up." He smacks your ass, not willing to hear your protests right now. "You've played with me long enough. Now be good and take it."

Played with him? What the hell is he talking about? You’ve never played with him. But any attempt to get a sane answer out of him right now is useless as the sounds of skin slapping against skin fills the room and Beomgyu latches his mouth onto yours, trying to dominate you in a way he has never attempted to do before–as if he’s trying to prove that you really are his.

And you are. He may not know it but you’ve always been his.

But his strong facade is paper-thin and you can see right through it to the insecure boy below when he pulls back to look at you. “Fuck, why did you have to be so pretty?”

“Make me cum, Beommie.” You murmur, moving a hand between your bodies to rest over your pussy, your middle and index fingers on either side of his cock as it fucks into you. “Do you feel how wet I am for you? I’m soaking the bed, baby.”

“Fuck…” He pulls your hand away, taking a look at how wet it has become already before he grunts and pushes one of your thighs against the bed to allow space for his own hand between your bodies, quickly finding your pussy to rub your clit.

“Oh… oh, fuck… baby…” You gasp, back arching as you’re quickly hurled towards your orgasm. “That’s it, honey. Make me cum on your big cock.”

He groans, his hips stuttering as your pussy begins to clench around him. “Don’t talk like that. Gonna make me lose it.”

“It riles you up when I talk dirty to you? Tell you how good you're fucking me?”

He nods.

“Dirty boy.” You moan out for him, “Do it. Empty that cock inside me. Want my pussy dripping with you.”

“Holy s-shit,” Beomgyu cries, and you feel his cum shooting inside of you, his hips not stopping for a second. And though his thrusts become erratic, his thumb keeps up its assault on your clit until your pussy is clamping down on his cock and milking the last drops of cum from him. “Good girl. My good girl.”

He fucks you through your orgasm, babbling on about how pretty you are and how well you took it. He looks so fucking pathetic with his shiny eyes and needy whimpers that before you even know it, he’s ripping another orgasm out of your already fucked out body.

“Goddammit, Beomgyu…” You squeal, toes curling at the very intense second orgasm, your body shuddering with the unexpected sharp waves of pleasure racking through it. And through it all, Beomgyu continues fucking you. You can feel his cock begin to harden once again inside you, and as the brutal second orgasm leaves your body, you wince at the overstimulation, putting your hands against his sweaty chest and starting to push him away.

“That’s enough, Beomgyu. I can’t take any more.”

But he resists you, shaking his head. “One more. Please, one more.”

“No.” You tell him firmly, “Don’t be bad. Pull out.”

He searches your face for any hint of leniency, his big pretty eyes trying to convince you to change your mind but you can’t. He’s fucked you so hard, your poor pussy requires a much needed rest.

You both watch as he slowly pulls out, his once again hard cock glistening with your cum and his, his seed dripping down your ass now that he wasn’t plugging your pussy up.

“Oh, baby, does that hurt?” You coo, grabbing his cock. He lets out a sigh of relief as you begin stroking it. “Yeah. So bad.”

The little shit is milking this, but you play along. “Poor baby. Let me make it go away.” You grin, suddenly speeding up, the slide of your hand so easy when his cock is well-lubricated. You make sure to maintain your position, with him hovering over your splayed open body so he can rake his eyes over it, and you clearly seeing him struggling to choose where to look between your tits that jiggle as you jerk him off quickly, the cum leaking out of your puffy pussy, and your swollen lips as you swipe your tongue over them.

It doesn’t take long for you to have him spilling his seed again, landing on your tummy as he doubles over and buries his head in your neck.

“That’s it, good boy.” You praise him, using your free hand to stroke his long hair that you love so much.

You let him lay there for a whole, catching his breath that is so irregular and stuttered that you almost don’t notice when he starts crying if it wasn’t for the hot tears falling on your skin.

“Beomgyu?” You call out, and a heart-breaking sob breaks out of his chest.

"Please, come back to me." He croaks against your neck.

"What?" You sit up, making him sit up with you and pulling his face away from your shoulder so you can look at him, your heart sinking at the tears streaming down his face. "I can't fucking bear seeing you with him any longer. It hurts so much."

Oh fuck.

"Beomgyu… Yeonjun isn't–" You try to explain that you and Yeonjun had broken up but he cuts you off.

"It's not him, it's you!" He shouts, "I love you and I can't bear it any longer. And I know it's selfish and that you don't love me back, at least not in that way, but then you keep messing with me."

He loves you? He really loves you?

"But I thought you loved Haeun?" You need to know what exactly is happening with him and Haeun first.

"I thought I did too but whenever I'm with her, I find myself thinking of you. You’re always in my head, it ruins every moment I have with her. She hates you too, you know? She can't stand how much I love you. The reason we haven't fucked is not because she won't put out. It's because I only want you. I didn't want to lose it to anyone else but you."

"Beomgyu–"

"But you don’t fucking care. You just see me as your disgusting best friend who you can play with and push away when you're done with him and I can't even bring myself to hate you for it. That's how much I love you. So just please… please give me a break."

“You think I was playing with you?” The idea seems absurd to you. How can he possibly think that? You've done everything in your power to not show how much you love him but never in your wildest dreams would you think that would mean he would see it as you playing with him.

“Weren’t you? I mean the way you spoke to me… you always pushed me away. I had to beg each time for you to even kiss me.” He peers at you, pain and vulnerability shining in his eyes as he recalls the way you treated him.

Fuck, you've been so obsessed with not letting your love for him show that you've done the same thing to him you thought he was doing to you. Knowing that pain all too well, you can’t bear the thought of being the cause of it.

You grab his face in your hands and kiss him, intending to pour out your own feelings the same way he did, hoping to staunch the flood of heartbreak you’re witnessing and calm him down enough for him to realize you feel the same way.

But his reaction wasn't what you expected. He breaks down crying. "You're so cruel."

"No, no! I love you too!" Your hands are in a flurry around his face, wiping his tears, stroking his hair, caressing his cheeks, anything to calm him down.

"What? This is not funny." He sobs, looking like a wounded animal. Your heart aches at the sight.

"No, fuck, I've loved you for years! The whole friends with benefits thing I started was just an excuse to have a way to be with you."

He stares at you in utter shock, the confusion the only thing stopping his tears from drowning you. "But you never even hinted that you liked me. You called me all kinds of names, freak, disgusting, pervert…"

"I thought you liked these..." You trail off sheepishly.

"I did but it still makes a guy think.” He mumbles, his fingers playing with yours nervously. “You wouldn’t let me touch you or kiss you."

"I was afraid if I let you kiss me, I wouldn't want you to stop. And I didn’t want you to touch me because I was afraid you wouldn’t like what you saw." It sounds so silly now that you're saying it out loud–now that you know he loves you and has wanted you just as badly.

"That's stupid. I had already seen it all." He tells you casually and you frown. "When?"

"You don't always shut the door when you're changing." He shrugs.

"Pervert!" You gasp, hitting him with no real power behind it. "What about you? You never hinted at anything either. You only ever talked about my body."

"Well, it did start just physical but I quickly realized that I'm in love with you. Then I kept only mentioning your body because you'd freak out on me whenever I hinted at anything else."

"Fair." You pout, realizing you’ve done as much to hurt yourself as he did.

"I didn't want to let it show that I loved you because I was so afraid you'd pull away like you did a couple of times. And then you were with Yeonjun and it fucking killed me so I had to pretend it was just sexual."

"Oh god, that's exactly what I've been doing.” You cover your face with your hands, mortified at your stupidity. We're fucking dumbasses."

“Yes, we are.” He replies fondly, taking your hands away from your face so you can look at him, refusing to let you hide anymore. "So you'll break up with him and be with me?"

"We broke up a while back.” You admit sheepishly. “He said he can't be with me when you and I are clearly in love with each other."

“So let me get this straight, Yeonjun could tell we love each other but somehow we, the two people involved, didn’t have a clue?” He raises an eyebrow at you and you nod. “I think it’s safe to say we won’t be winning any genius awards anytime soon.”

“We could win the biggest dumbasses award though.” He cracks a smile, pulling you close to him and resting his forehead against yours.

“No one could even compete.” You grin, kissing him. He immediately deepens the kiss, frantic and hungry still.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down, Beommie. We have all the time in the world.” You tease as if you weren’t just as needy, making him whine. “I can’t help it. You made me yearn for so long.”

“Yearn? Oh, that’s bad. I made you use the word yearn.”

He yanks your legs up, sending the rest of your body flying backwards and hitting the mattress, your loud giggles quickly covered by his mouth as he kisses you harshly, his teeth biting down on your lips in annoyance when you still don’t stop laughing.

“Stop it.” He whines in defeat as he pulls back, and you try to keep your giggles under control, his pout is entirely too devastating to look at.

"Are you gonna break up with her?" You ask and he doesn't hesitate to say, "Of course."

That makes you smile, happy with how easily he chose you, but then a thought pops into your mind and you frown. "You know, I hated her but I still feel kinda bad for fucking you behind her back." You really do. You've never condoned cheating, even if it was on someone as vile as Haeun.

"Oh you mean the same way she fucked the whole football team?" He counters and you gape at him, "God damn. Why did you even stay with her for that long?"

He shrugs. "Needed a distraction. And to not come across as a loser in front of you. I mean you were with Yeonjun. I couldn't just be alone."

"Oh, honey…" You coo, but anything you planned to say is suddenly forgotten as you feel his cock pressing against your entrance.

"Beommie!" You squeak. “What are you doing?”

"You thought we were done? You spread your legs for my bandmate. I'm gonna have to look at him every day knowing he had you first. I gotta make sure you and everyone else knows who exactly you belong to."

It may not be the most healthy coping mechanism, but you’ll let him have it for now. You’re sure you wouldn't be very happy if you were in his position either. Besides, getting to fuck Beomgyu isn’t exactly what you would consider a punishment.

_________

A/N: Click here for the Yeonjun ending on Patreon.

Also for my patreons, you could suggest a scene from gyu's pov and I'll choose one. There will also most likely be some drabbles about oc and gyu's life after the ending (mostly smut featuring our favorite desperate boy lol) and some will be released on tumblr and others will be exclusive to patreon.

Patreons may also suggest a continuation of a previous fic/drabble. I will do my best to release at least something monthly on there.

Taglist: @blxxsss@sanasour@tinkw1nks@lol6sposts@zuzuhasablog@beomsl@seolis-world@stantxtorurmissingout@wonwooz1@yaorzu-blog@allylikesdabee@rkivezzs@malieno@leviathanlee26@yomomas-stuff@kurisaiyunobara@girlwholovekpop@zuzuhasablog@viaaasdiary@ho3forkpop@skzvcr@th3-3d3n-g4rd3n @izzyexe @boomfrogg @kpop-cakepops-recs @chronicallygyu @girlwholovekpop

#txt smut #dom!reader #sub!idol #tomorrow x together smut

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souliebird · 5 days

Text

[[and then I met you || ch. 18]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 3.7k

ao3 link

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

warning: canon typical violence || vomit

“Oh, kiss me, beneath the milky twilight. Lead me out on the moonlit floor, lift your open hand - Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance, silver moon's sparkling. So, kiss me.”

You hum along with the song playing quietly in your ear as you scrub the bathtub. It is one of your cleaning nights and you are focused on getting everything back to tip-top shape. The tub currently has a bit of a purple tint to it after you tried a new brand of bubble bath for Minnie - you are lucky she isn’t now grape flavored as well - and you would very much like it gone. It is coming off easier than you expected, but it is taking a fair amount of elbow grease.

It is easy to space out and listen to music as you work. Your cleaning playlist are songs you can vibe to that you don’t really associate with anything in your life - mostly you think about the movies the song has been featured in - but you are finding, as you scrub and romantic lyrics float through your head, a certain name and face keeps appearing in your mind’s eye.

You know it isn’t wise for you to develop a crush on Matt - just because you have a daughter together does not mean he wants to kiss you. You know you need to squash the feelings down before you get yourself hurt.

But sometimes it is nice to have silly impossible daydreams while you are cleaning alone at ten at night. Having a goofy little smile while you picture yourself spinning around a garden in a dance isn’t hurting anyone. You have a good grasp on reality - you just sometimes want to pretend to be the lead in a cheesy 90’s teen romcom - is that too much to ask?

No one else needs to know Matt has replaced the lead actor. It is a secret just for you.

As you scrub bleach powder around your purple-haze tub drain, you catch movement reflecting in the shine of the spout. You can’t hear anything over your music - even though you only have one earbud in - so you sit up and turn around. Of course, it is Minnie standing in the doorway, clad in her jammies, and dragging Scooby by his big paw.

You pull the earbud out, frowning to your daughter, “Is everything alright, Mouse? Is my music too loud? Did it wake you up?”

She shakes her head, then in the most miserable voice you have ever heard from her, whines, “My tummy hurts.”

Instantly, you set down your sponge and your earbud so you can go to your daughter, “your tummy hurts?”

You move to pick her up, wanting to comfort her, but it is made clear she doesn’t want this by stepping back and holding up her toy between the two of you. It hurts, but it passes, as you know you don’t like to be touched when you feel sick, so instead, you kneel down to be in front of her and try to find the root of the problem.

“How does your tummy hurt?”

She sways side to side, face scrunching up as she self-analyzes. You can see the little wheels turning in her head, but then there is a very subtle shift in her eyes that only years of being a mother makes you notice. With lightning speed, you grab Minnie under her arms and spin around to hold her over the toilet just as her dinner begins to regurgitate.

Your heart breaks as she empties her stomach and you try to soothe her the best you can, rubbing her little back as she coughs and hacks.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, get it all out. Get all the icky out,” you tell her.

Luckily, her stomach is small and there is not a lot of expel. Once you are sure she is done, you flush the toilet then close the lid, intent on setting Minnie down so you can clean her up, but of course, now she doesn’t want to be put down. She wiggles and turns until she can bury her head into your neck, sniffling and hiccupping, and clinging to you the best she can.

You can feel bits of vomit on your neck, but since you aren’t completely covered in it, you try to ignore it in favor of your distressed daughter. You begin to rock her gently, humming one of her favorite lullabies as she processes how distressing throwing up is.

You don’t remember when the last time she got sick was, but you have a guess as to what caused this upset - you tried a new ice cream for dessert tonight. It had made your stomach a bit gurgly and you had solved that with a TUMS.

It hadn’t occurred to you to ask if Minnie needed one, too.

A lesson for the future.

Minnie doesn’t dissolve into full on tears and after about two minutes, she pulls back and croaks out, “‘cooby?”

She had dropped the toy when you had first picked her up, so you stretch to grab him for her. She quickly switches to clinging to him and you go right for a washcloth. You wipe down your neck first - you can only handle so much - then start on cleaning up your poor Mouse.

In a blessing from the gods, she only has a little bit of gunk around her mouth and nose. It doesn’t seem like anything got on her clothes.

Getting her to rinse her mouth out takes a bit of convincing.

“It will help the icky taste go away,” you promise, but she just clamps her mouth shut and shakes her head. You very much get why she wouldn’t want anything in her mouth after throwing up, but you also know she needs a good rinse. She only gives in after you demonstrate what you want of her by brushing your teeth and gargling some water. However, the condition is that you have to brush her teeth for her while she squeezes Scooby for dear life.

Once her mouth is clean and the only sign she was ever sick is her puffy red eyes, you scoop up your baby and bring her out to the living room.

“How does your tummy feel now?” you ask as you set her on the couch and begin to cocoon her in the throw blanket you keep there.

Minnie rests her head on top of Scooby’s, lip jutting out into a pout, “Icky. And Hurty.”

“Icky and hurty?” You sympathize. You know well the aftermath of throwing up and how sometimes the aftermath is worse than the event - your stomach often turns sour and you feel drained. You know certain fluids will help relieve this, so you kiss Mouse’s forehead and tell her, “Let me see if we have any things to help.”

“Blue Pedi-lyte?” she asks and you can’t help but smile over how observant and smart your little one is. She may not have thrown up in recent memory - but other digestive problems have occurred, and she clearly remembers enough that the drink helped.

“Yeah. Let me go see if we have any, okay? Do you want to put on some Mickey?”

“Goofy,” is her quick, but mumbled reply.

You turn on the television and bring up some Goofy related shorts, then head to the kitchen, hoping you have some old Pedialyte.

But you don’t.

You have leftover drinks Karen brought you and the only thing that is comparable to what you promised Minnie is yellow Gatorade. However, you have nothing to turn it blue. You have the feeling that trying to give it to your little one is not going to go well, but you try, nonetheless. You fill a sippy cup halfway with yellow liquid and mentally cross yourself as you bring it to Mouse on the couch.

She takes one look at it before pouting at you, “That’s yellow.”

“I know, sweetie. But we don’t have any blue Pedialyte. We only have yellow Gatorade. It will help your tummy, too.”

To her credit, she takes it and holds it in her lap, looking down at it with disdain. She opens and closes her mouth a few times, then wrinkles up her nose and holds the cup back up to you, “It’s stinky.”

You try to not sigh - lemon-lime is an intense flavor and probably won’t taste the best after vomiting, but it is all you have. You crouch down so you are eye level with your daughter and rub her leg, trying to be encouraging, “I know, but it will help your tummy. Can you try for me?”

She looks between you and the cup about fifteen times, her little eyes full of doubt, before bringing it up to her mouth and taking a sip. She does not swallow - instead she looks disgusted before opening her mouth and letting the drink spill down her chin.

“Oh, no, no, let’s not do that,” you groan. You use your t-shirt - which is luckily your cleaning shirt and gross anyways - to wipe her face and soak up the yellow liquid.

“Icky,” Mouse informs you, then adds, “I want blue Pedi-lyte. Please?”

You take in your daughter, looking so tiny wrapped up on the couch. How awful it must be to not only be nauseous, but to be so with enhanced senses. You’ve thrown up enough times to know what an unpleasant aftertaste it leaves, so she must be so miserable.

You rub your hands over your face and give in, “Okay, let Mommy go change into real people clothes, and we will go get some for you.”

----

You are no stranger to midnight runs to the bodega two blocks west. You had moved into your current apartment when you were about six months pregnant, and you had spent month seven waddling your way there almost every night for a slice of cake. The late-night cashier, Sal, practically watched Minnie grow up and he is one of the few people who she will talk to unprompted. So, you don’t feel embarrassed when you stroll in wearing sweatpants and a band-tank top, with Minnie still in her jammies - Sal has seen you in worse states and at least you aren’t wearing a robe and slippers.

There’s a couple of college aged boys lingering around the snacks section who smell heavily of marijuana, and they seem more interested in talking about what chips to get than anything, so only your hyper paranoid mind makes you take notice as you make your way to the drink coolers. You pass all the fun things and go to the very back corner of the storefront where the small selection of medicinal goods are.

Tampons, Tylenol, and band aids are stacked low on the dry goods shelf, and across from them, practically on the floor of the cooler, is one row of Pedialyte. The gods must be smiling on you because it is indeed the blue flavor your daughter is desiring.

You open the cooler, and with Minnie on your hip, squat down to retrieve your prize. Almost instantly, she starts making grabby hands for it, asking with a bit of a whine, “Mommy, open it.”

“We have to pay for it first, then you can drink it,” you remind her, feeling guilty as you do. You can see the upset in her eyes, and to try and mitigate the damage, you offer, “Do you want to help buy it?”

Mouse, always the eager helper, nods against you, so you hand over the drink, stand, and start making your way to the counter. The stoned boys are debating which chips will leave the least amount of residue on their gaming controllers as you pass them and part of you wants to stop and listen. You don’t have an interest in video games beyond silly ones on your phone, but their passion is intense, and you agree Cheeto dust is one of the worst things in the world. You are lucky Minnie finds them gross and much prefers pretzels as her chip of choice.

As you come up to the checkout, Sal looks up from his phone and gives you a pleasant smile, “Late night snack run?”

Minnie pipes up before you can, leaning forward as far as she can to hold out the bottle towards him, “I wanna buy this, please, thank you.”

Sal, ever kind, reaches across the counter to get it so you don’t have to try to lean in, “Ahhh, no snacks. Tummy troubles?”

“Tummy troubles,” you confirm. You dig into your purse for your wallet as he begins to ring you up.

Sal clicks his tongue in sympathy, before telling you, “My daughter, Sasha, the tall one, she always had the tummy troubles, too. Turns out, she was allergic to corn. Do you know how much corn is in everything in America?”

You make a face at that because you do, in fact, know how much corn is in everything. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

In your arms, always wanting to mimic you, Minnie gives a solemn nod to Sal, “Sorry to hear.”

Sal laughs warmly, “You are kind. I hope your tummy troubles are not from corn, but too many sweets.”

That makes Mouse giggle, which warms your heart. When you are told the total, you hand her your card to hand over to Sal. The sweet man swipes it, then addresses Minnie, “Debit or credit?”

Despite not knowing what that means, she instantly replies with, “Credit!” making you smile all the more.

“Yes, we will charge it,” he says. The receipt prints and he hands that and the card back to you before bagging the Pedialyte in a little black baggie and handing that to Minnie. “Your purchase, little ma’am.”

“Thank you!” she chimes, and you thank Sal as well. The college boys have finally decided on their snack, so you vacate the counter so they can make their purchase, wishing the cashier a good rest of his night.

As you exit the bodega, Minnie bonks your arm with the bagged bottle, “Mommy, open it now. We buyed it.”

“Okay, okay.”

You set her down on the ground, then get the bottle out so you can crack it open. You help your little one take a few careful sips and once she is done, she smacks her lips.

“Not icky?” You ask and she gives a big nod in response.

“Not icky.”

“How is your tummy?”

Her fist goes right into her mouth as she thinks over the question. You use the time to recap the drink and drop it back into the bag, then put that into your purse.

“It feels like jumping dinosaurs,” Mouse finally tells you, “Going ‘bah bah bah’. Like sheepies.”

You have no idea what that is supposed to mean, but you guess that she feels better. She seems more chipper, which isn’t what you need closing in on midnight. If you don’t get home soon and get her back into bed, you are going to have a very grumpy toddler in the morning.

Which will go great with your expected grumpiness - you still have to finish cleaning the bathroom and who knows how long that is going to take. You’ll need to redo the toilet and throw a load of laundry into the wash. You’ll probably get to bed around two if you are lucky.

So, with the complete intention of tiring your daughter out, you ask her, “Do you want to walk back home holding Mommy’s hand?”

Which completely does the trick and Minnie takes your hand so you can walk back home together, and you begin heading that way.

Despite being the city that never sleeps, the streets around you are pretty empty. You haven’t come across any other foot traffic and you’ve only seen a few cars roll by, so to you, it seems like a quiet night.

You wonder if that is how Minnie sees it - or in her case - hears it.

It has been mind boggling learning her range of hearing and how much input she must constantly receive.

Matt is still working on making you his binder - Karen has apparently taken to copy editing it - but he has given you a preview of a few pages and you can barely comprehend it. You think you would go insane if you could hear everyone talking all at once, all the time. Your anxiety would be astronomical, but your sweet Mouse doesn’t seem bothered in day-to-day life.

You’ve been watching her play more and more and you’ve been learning what catches her attention and interests. To your surprise, it has been music. The little wiggles and shakes she sometimes does is apparently her interpretation of dancing and you have been making her a little playlist for her birthday. You think a dance party would be a fun thing to do the night before the zoo trip, to help get out all her energy. You haven’t told her this yet, but you did ask her to let you know when she hears a song she wants to dance to, so you can look into it.

You don’t want to add anything inappropriate after all.

You look down at your daughter as you walk, a little smile coming to your face. She’s watching her feet, and it looks like she’s trying to step on her own shadow without making a big deal of it. You’ve seen her do that before or try to walk one foot in front of the other. You aren’t the fastest walker - you tend to stroll - so you never worry about her games slowing you down.

Plus, if it wears her out, all the better for you.

You are about half a block away from your building when Minnie suddenly halts and whirls her head back towards the bodega. Curious, you stop as well, wondering what she has heard now.

“What is it, sweetie?”

“There’s a hoot-hoot!” She whisper-yells, looking up to you with the biggest, purest smile.

Your heart practically bursts from your chest with love and your smile grows to match hers, “A hoot-hoot? Can you tell me about the hoot-hoot?”

She nods, then you watch in slow motion as your daughter’s absolute joy morphs into that of horror and before you can even process what is happening, something is ripping you away from Minnie by the base of your neck.

You are pivoted left and slammed face first into the brownstone staircase you were just walking by. Your vision goes spotty as pain erupts from the center of your forehead - confusion and panic begin to consume you.

All you can hear is your daughter screaming in fear.

You have no idea what is going on, but all you know is Minnie needs you, and that ignites something deep and primal in your chest.

There is something grabbing and pulling at your top and your purse - which you wear crossbody - and you realize someone is trying to mug you. Fear fills you as you struggle to get away, break free, but whoever it is is stronger than you and keeps slamming you back against the stone.

“Mommy!”

The thing inside your chest bursts to life when you hear Minnie cry for you and you kick backwards best you can, trying to dislodge your attacker. Your foot catches their knee and both of you go tumbling to the ground. You hit the cement hard only to be crushed under the weight of your assailant as they land on top of you.

You refuse to stay still, squirming and trying to army crawl out from under the mugger, but they easily overpower you. Hands wrap around your throat from behind and you are temporarily overwhelmed by the stench of body odor and filth. You are pressed down into the sidewalk for a split second before being yanked back and you just barely manage to turn your face as you are violently forced back down again. Gravel and glass tear at your cheek.

Something tangles itself into your hair and your head is once again being pulled back, but you won’t give up. You reach back over your head and grab onto the arm of the person attacking you. You feel flesh, so you curl your fingers and dig your nails in the best you can.

There is a feral, pained yowl, then your head meets the ground again, but it doesn’t stop. They are trying to push you down into the sidewalk using all their weight, like they are trying to crush your skull.

You kick and buck as hard as you are able to, thrashing desperately in an attempt to break away. The pain is quickly becoming all encompassing, but Minnie is crying, and you need to get to her.

You try to get an arm under you, to try and help to push you up, but there is so much weight and all of it is centered on your upper back and skull.

You can’t get up.

You can’t get to Minnie.

You can’t save your daughter.

There is a deep and furious roar, then the crushing weight of your attacker is ripped off of you.

You gasp for breath as you quickly roll onto your side, terrified you're going to be pushed back into the dirt and smothered. Your vision is swimming, blurry and half black, and everything, everything hurts.

“DADDY!”

Your eyes snap open and you try to push yourself up onto shaky arms. You try to turn around to find your daughter, but your body doesn’t want to obey anymore, and you collapse back onto the ground. You force your legs to move the best you can, trying to roll until you can find your daughter.

“Minnie..” you try to call out but you aren’t sure if any noise escapes your lips.

“Mommy!”

The darkness wraps itself around you and begins to drag you down into its depths. The last thing your mind catches before it switches off is your little Mouse, screaming for you.

“MOMMY!”

“MOMMY!!”

---

:3C

---

tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath

@allllium

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#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you

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