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cheesiedomino · 2 months

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RentABoyfriend.com ꙳ ੭ * ‧

synopsis: you’re tired of being single so you to take an unusual route in helping with that— but what happens when you start catching real romantic feelings for your rental boyfriend?

genre: seo changbin x fem!reader | fake relationship/dating au wc: 5.1k tags/warnings: fluff, v minor angst, mild cursing, (kinda) nerdy changbin, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol usage, just overall very cute story dw <33

[this is part of my valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]

“I have a date tomorrow guys.”

Everyone’s head instantly lifts up from their phones at this sudden announcement, collectively drawing their attention at you. You weren’t expecting all of them to gasp and swap such looks of genuine confusion. It’s starting to make you think maybe this situation was a lot more serious than you’ve bargained it out to be.

You couldn’t fathom it either honestly, the realization of you going out with someone probably won’t settle in until you’re physically on the date. Based on their initial responses though, you might regret everything you’re about to say, but it’s far too late to retract any of your statements now.

“No way.. with who??” Danielle is the first out of everyone to ask.

Taehyung chimes in as well, “Yeah, who’s the lucky person? They’ve gotta be something seriously special to be talking to you.”

Well, you suppose you could put it that way.

You already have a preconceived notion of what they’re going to think of this “idea”. Mentally preparing yourself to receive a flood of questions and critique from your close friends.

“Actually… I rented him. For the week.”

Now they’re all looking at you like you’ve officially lost it. The room got scarily quiet, no one wanted to be the first to speak. You should’ve anticipated on their reactions being like this, it isn’t everyday someone just openly admits to buying a partner online. Nowadays there’s a lucrative market for just about anything, when you stumbled upon an ad for this service called ‘RentABoyfriend.com’ you didn’t think much of it. You laughed the concept off at first, thinking how lonely people must be to buy someone else’s time.

But the ads kept popping up, they wouldn’t stop showing in almost every YouTube video you were watching— even one of your favorite YouTubers promoted them before! So one day you finally decided to check this website out, you wanted to see what the hype’s all about so you signed up just for shits and giggles. You weren’t expecting to actually be somewhat interested in trying this thing out, but after going through a couple different profiles and reading hundreds of positive reviews you were practically sold.

“You rented out a boyfriend..? Seriously ___? I mean, I’m not judging but you’re a gorgeous girl you can easily get a boyfriend without paying for someone’s companionship, I don’t see why you need to rent one.” Mark bluntly expressed his opinion, he was probably the most outspoken out of all of you guys.

Taehyung and Danielle both agreed in unison, it’s practically 3 against 1 at this point. You knew you should’ve waited to tell them but you weren’t anticipating on them being this judgmental about it. You were hoping for a little more support, as they’re all way more experienced than you in the dating scene and could lend some helpful advice about your first date, ever.

See, the thing is you’ve never tried dating before so you wouldn’t know the first thing about it or what to expect from your future partner. You’ve never had a boyfriend, let alone held hands or kissed someone of the opposite sex. Being in your twenties it’s kind of embarrassing to say you’ve never done those things, but you thought what better way to try it out than renting a full-on experience that can give you just that? Well minus the kissing part, but you can make it work.

You were skeptical of doing this whole ‘rent-a-boyfriend’ thing at first because you didn’t think there’d be anyone you’d find suitable enough. A big part of the reason that you’re still single is because you’re extremely picky, you want to date a guy who’s so perfect that he must’ve came straight out of an indie romance film. Your friends would tease you for having such unrealistic standards when it came to dating but you were the all-or-nothing type, you’ll be single with fifty cats before you settle for less. Renting a boyfriend is definitely an unconventional idea of easing into dating but you thought it might be worth a try anyway.

What’s the worse that could happen?

( 1 day earlier )

Hovering your cursor over the bold red text of the website, you read over the main rules before going on to select the person you want for your date.

‘The rules are simple:

You are allowed to see only ONE person at a time, if you want to switch boyfriends you’ll have to pay a $50 fee.

MUST be over 18 to rent a boyfriend, we have implemented an age verification system before the date as we do not tolerate anyone under this age to use our services.

NO kissing, or sexual intimacy allowed. If this is found out later on by our agency we will terminate your contract and ban you from using our services in the future.

Remember to have fun !! ^_^ Our services are great for people who are new to dating or have never been in a relationship. We provide the ~ultimate~ boyfriend experience to all our clients. Customer satisfaction is 100% guaranteed ! (NO REFUNDS)’

Well jeez… they seemed a bit strict but you can deal with those rules and restrictions for the most part.

After hours of skimming through hundreds of profiles, you have a hard time choosing which you like most. Did you want an artsy, shy kind of guy? The tattooed, bad boy aesthetic type? You really couldn’t pick one until you stumble upon a particular profile that catches your eye almost immediately.

SEO CHANGBIN | 168 CM | PART-TIME LIFEGUARD | 24 | *POPULAR ↝

5 Facts About Me: I’ve traveled to over 50+ different countries and counting (ask me which my favorites are), I can speak 4 languages (working on my fifth), love to sing and used to have a rap trio with my buddies from college, I can & will easily lift you up ;) also have a secret talent for cooking, there’s nothing I can’t do!

Why Choose Me? First of all, why not choose me? I’m the best candidate for whatever kind of date you need, something casual, social gatherings, weddings, you name it! I’m very social and can make most people laugh (unless they’re the literal Grinch reincarnated), I’m able to get along well with anyone and just love to have a good time. I hope we can get to know each other and make great memories in the future :)

Going through his pictures you couldn’t believe someone was capable of being this humanely attractive. Don’t even get started on those impeccable muscles either… He really had to sport them in every other one of his photos, wearing the tightest shirts to show the outline of his insanely sculpted frame. You might have just been mesmerized from his godlike visuals alone. They even had a Valentine’s Day deluxe package that comes with seven dates in total for half the price, which they specified was for a limited time only.

$600 later you’ve got a full week of dates lined up with the hottest guy you’ve ever seen in all your years of living. You should’ve definitely went shopping before considering all this because now you actually have a reason to get dolled up for someone.

You were so nervous about going on this date you almost cancelled last minute out of fear. Typing out several different elaborate paragraphs to Changbin on why you couldn’t make it. You didn’t have his real phone number, it was all through an app facilitated by the rental company that was included in the package. Even though you were feeling overwhelmed and practically shaking with anxiety about meeting up with a guy, you still forced yourself to go anyway. You didn’t just dish out all that money just to not show up and waste his time on top of all that.

Your rental boyfriend texted you the location to meet at, it was near a train station so you both could see each other out in a public open space. The outfit you wore was fairly simple, a black mini skirt with warm tights underneath and a cropped turtleneck sweater. You accessorized the look with some dainty jewelry, a thin scarf, and knee high boots to pull everything together. It wasn’t something you usually wore but you had certain clothes you saved for a special occasion like this.

Upon your arrival, you notice him standing near a vending machine and waves over at you with the biggest smile plastered on his face. You awkwardly wave back, giving a soft smile as you slowly walk up to him. He looks even better in person, you don’t even feel adequate enough to be in such a gorgeous man’s presence. No wonder he’s so popular on the site, he’s practically unreal.

“Hi, you must be ___. It’s so nice to finally meet you, might I add you look really beautiful today, I think you’re making my heart race just by looking at you. Happy Valentine’s Day!” Changbin introduces himself, buttering you up with some sweet compliments before handing you the most insane bouquet of roses you’ve ever seen.

You take the flowers and almost stumble backwards from how heavy they were, “Wow, thank you!” Changbin prevents you from falling, quickly coming up behind you to get your balance back.

“Careful honey, can’t have you injured on our first date!” He voices with concern, “I hope you love the idea I came up with, I’ve only been to this place once before but I’m sure it’s still as fun as I remember it, let’s go!” Eagerly grabbing your hand to begin the journey, he turns around again to examine your body language.

“You seem a little tense babe? Do you need a massage?” He asks in a concerned tone again, this is all really beginning to freak you out. You know this is what you signed up for but this was all starting to feel a bit too personal, all the nicknames and sweet talk he’s giving is just something you aren’t used to.

“Uh, no! It’s o-okay.” You shook your head, denying anything suspicious going on. Truth be told you were barely able to contain your composure right now.

Changbin keeps on insisting, “The massage is included in the package so you don’t have to worry about getting charged extra.”

“N-no it’s okay, really. I’m just nervous that’s all, sorry I just don’t meet up with guys…” you shyly admit, finding it hard to look him in the eye.

He nods in understanding, “No need to be nervous with me sweetheart. I’m here to make you feel as comfortable as possible.” The smile he flashes at you instantly makes you warm on the inside, he seems like a genuine, caring person. You think things might go well for you after all.

The rest of the night was full of only good vibes and laughter by the end of it all. Changbin took you to an adult arcade that had old video games like Pac-Man, Super Mario, and Space Invaders, the other side was a bar where people could sit, drink, and socialize. He bought all your drinks that night, let you use up most of his tokens and overall had the most fun you could’ve ever had with someone. He was so easygoing but also knew when to act super caring and would be all lovey dovey with you. He was gentle, nurturing, and could have conversations about anything. You loved that he’d randomly drop some interesting fact you never knew about, or talked about a certain niche topic that he’d go on multiple rants over. It didn’t feel like you were renting someone out to date you, it felt natural— like you’ve known him for longer than a couple hours. Changbin walked you home and held your hand the entire time, along with the flowers he provided a teddy bear and a heart shaped box of chocolates. If that didn’t scream boyfriend goals then you don’t know what does.

The next day you wake up to Changbin blowing your phone up this morning. You had over 26 messages from him, which was pretty excessive in your humble opinion. The first thing he said was good morning then he goes on to express how fun yesterday was and he can’t wait to do it again. He even sent a couple mirror selfies of him at the gym, ‘conceited much?’ You thought. But then again, if you were Seo Changbin you’d probably be full of yourself too.

For today’s date you wore a pretty red sundress that made your skin glow in the sunlight. It’ll definitely get him to compliment you even more— which you secretly love when he does. Changbin calls you before he heads out to the date, letting you know how excited he is to see you again. You couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot on the train as you made your way to the destination, thinking about what he’s planned for you two next. This time you’ll be meeting up at a park but you still have no clue what you’re doing.

Changbin texts you where exactly he is in the park, it was pretty huge so it took you a while to get to him. As you get closer you see him sitting on a large blanket by the lake, on top of it were a bunch of different foods and snacks scattered all around that came out of a huge picnic basket. You were speed walking at this point trying to get to him. His arms opened out for a hug and you lean right into him, what you didn’t expect was for him to suddenly stand up and lift you in his arms to swing around you like a doll.

“Put me down I’m scared of heights!” You squeal out in fear of being too high up in the air. Maybe you really should’ve taken the bio on his profile more seriously when he mentioned certain things.

Finally putting you down after minutes go by of you protesting, Changbin sits you back onto the blanket. He brought an assortment of breads, cheese, fruits, lemonade that he made himself and a couple seltzers. You’ve never seen anyone put such time and effort into a date before, even being here with him is like living in a daydream. He was definitely succeeding in making you feel comfortable, which is something you never thought was possible with men. He actually took his time getting to know you and didn’t sound arrogant whenever he talked about himself, Changbin was so different than other guys who’ve tried hitting on you in the past. He was actually respectful, intelligent, and could easily carry a conversation without long, awkward pauses.

He was literally everything you’re looking for in a guy. But you’ll be seeing him for this week only then it’s bye bye forever. That revelation makes you a little upset, but you try pushing those thoughts in the back of your mind. It’s irrelevant and unnecessary to think about. Yet you can’t help but wonder about certain things though, wanting to know more about his job and what it’s like on a daily basis for him.

“Can I ask you something? I need you to answer it honestly.” You say out of nowhere, hoping that didn’t come out as weird as you thought.

Changbin nods, “of course, shoot.”

“How many clients do you usually get?”

This question definitely catches him off guard, he’s never really been asked this before and he’s debating on if he should as it might be a breach of privacy.

“I don’t think I can answer that, sorry.” He responds in the nicest way possible, but deep down he wants to know why you’d want to know how many other people he sees a day.

You were going to push him a bit more to try and get an answer but you decide to let it go and just enjoy the rest of the picnic. You didn’t want to bring the mood down with your odd questions and/or end up making him feel so uncomfortable that he won’t want to see you anymore. It was definitely something you shouldn’t have asked but you were curious to know anyway. Overall besides that small incident, you had another wonderful time with Changbin and couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come any faster.

Changbin had a foolproof way of getting you to blush like a giddy high school teen whenever he texted you. He’d always refer to you as ‘pretty girl’ or ‘princess’ which gave you insane amount of butterflies. You loved how clingy he could get and would double text when you don’t reply fast enough, always needing constant attention from you which you never minded giving.

He texted you at around three in the afternoon, proposing his next plan for today’s date.

‘Let’s go out for drinks tonight, it’s all on me ;)’

You liked his message, replying that you’ll be there and put a series of hearts at the end. Speaking of hearts, yours is fluttering at high altitudes from the way you can’t stop thinking about your “boyfriend” Changbin. This has been better than anything you could’ve expected, you never want this week to come to an end. It’s only been three days but you’ve begun to grow feelings for him, they weren’t too strong just yet but they were most definitely there. You couldn’t let that halt you from having a good time tonight, you’ll have to accept it soon enough he’s not your actual boyfriend. He’s doing this because you paid him to, if it wasn’t for your money he wouldn’t be here right now.

‘This relationship is purely transactional’ you unfortunately keep reminding yourself of the reality you’re in. Psyching yourself out of this sudden somber mood that’s consuming you, distracting your pessimism by raiding your closet for some cute clothes to wear tonight’s date. After what seemed like hours of tearing your entire room apart, you decide to settle on this sparkly black mini tube dress, pairing it with a leather jacket and more platform shoes because you’re obsessed with feeling tall. Once it’s 7 PM you head out to the bar you’re seeing Changbin at, he was already waiting for you inside the place. Eyes instantly lighting up when he sees you coming towards him, just like he always does he motions for a hug, pulling you in tightly like he hasn’t seen you in years.

His hugs felt so cozy, like sitting in front of the fireplace on a crisp, snowy winter’s evening. You never wanted to escape the warmth of his arms, it was one of those forms of physical touch that felt so overly personal to you. The thought of him hugging someone the same way he hugs you slightly enrages something in your spirit but again, it isn’t your place to get genuinely upset over him doing his job. You’re not entitled to him exclusively, but you feel like if you keep this up feelings will only continue to develop. This wasn’t something you considered when going into this and now you feel like you’ve just made a huge mistake.

“You okay babe?” Changbin notices you acting a bit strange, choosing not to pursue it after telling him you’re fine. He knows something’s wrong but doesn’t want to mess up the flow of the date, instead he orders a drink for the both of you and switches on to a lighter subject. “Let’s go shopping tomorrow at that new centre that just opened last week. I need to buy some new AirPods, I accidentally lost one of them in a taxi..”

“Sure,” you nod at his suggestion, in desperate need of some new clothes anyway. “Sorry about your AirPods, that sucks!”

He takes a sip of his bubbly drink that’s now on the table, “Eh, it’s okay this is probably the fourth time this has happened so far.” This has pretty much become a regular occurrence for him by now.

As the date progresses, things continue getting better. You’re both laughing, engaging in much deeper conversation than ever before. You definitely had more than enough alcohol in your system by now, feeling congested and claustrophobic as more people came into the bar. Changbin takes note of your discomfort and asks if you want to get some fresh air outside, you wasted absolutely no time to agree.

While you two were outside continuing your chat about some wild conspiracy he read about online, Changbin’s attention was soon drawn to a different building nearby. Gazing up in confusion at his sudden outburst of excitement, you wonder where he could be leading you next.

“Noraebang!” He shouts loud enough anyone miles away could’ve heard that, he’s now grabbing your hand to frantically drag you along with him.

You were never one to carry a tune but Changbin was actually very good at karaoke and singing in general, he had such a lovely voice. You could seriously listen to him sing all night— which you basically did since you kept begging for an encore until it hit 4 am. That’s when you both decided to finally call it a night, you wanted to pay for the Uber since he’s paid for all the drinks and every other expenses for today. You felt bad because you were the one renting him to be your boyfriend yet he’s constantly shelling out money left and right. He still insisted on paying and ultimately won the whole debacle, making you swallow your pride and get into the Uber with him. Changbin’s definitely not just someone you’re going to forget about after this week is over. You dread the day this all comes to an end, wishing there was a way to relive these moments again and again.

“I’m a little under the weather today, sorry I can’t make it Binnie.” Your voice is hoarse from coughing and unbearable throat pain. You’ve already consumed half a bag of cough drops, throat lozenges, and random cold medicine you’ve found in your cabinets.

He sounds mildly disappointed, but springs back up with a new proposal, “I can come over and bring some soup if you’d like!”

You appreciate his gesture but still refuse, you know he’s only saying all this because he has to, not because he wants to. “N-no you don’t have to, I’m sure you can go see other clients today. One less person to worry about right?”

The call went silent for a minute, he wasn’t quite sure how to respond to such a deprecating comment.

“I don’t want to see other clients, I want to see you ___.” He sighs, unwilling to give up so easily, “I’ll be at your place soon, m’kay?” He hangs up before you could even respond or say no again.

You had no choice but to wait for Changbin to show up now. Before you got sick, the last two dates you went on were debatably the best so far. You had gone out shopping together, accidentally wearing almost the same kind of outfit. Changbin was wearing a white graphic tee with blue baggy jeans and you wore something practically identical. The two of you looked like a real, official couple and people would stare as you walked hand in hand, it really did seem like the perfect relationship on the outside.

You got even closer when he came over the following day, resulting in you two cuddling while watching movies and baking cookies. He’s expressed that he’s never been to another client’s home before but it wasn’t “technically” against any rules. The more you kept hanging out together, the harder it was coming to terms with the fact you’re actually falling for Changbin. He made every experience with you more exciting than the last, which he did exactly that night. When the cookies were done you fed a piece to him, making little airplane sounds as you do it, he eagerly takes a bite of the chewy treat and compliments both your efforts.

“These taste way better than I thought, oh my god they literally melt in your mouth. Try it!” He takes another cookie from the tray and feeds it to you this time.

There was something so overly domestic about that moment you couldn’t shake the feelings of wanting to kiss him right then and there. But you can’t. If you did such a thing you’d never be allowed to see him again, plus you don’t want to be known as that one creepy client who just couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. As you were cuddling on the couch though, things may have taken a turn for the better… or worse?

Changbin would “yawn” at the movie and subtly wrap his arm around you, he’d subconsciously pull you in closer and it didn’t make it any better that you were under the same blanket. You weren’t complaining at any of this though, you were pretty much in heaven. It took everything in you not to look up and stare, gluing your eyes to the movie that was displayed on the TV. But as the night progressed you were practically snuggling up with him like he was your real boyfriend. The way he’d run his fingers gently down your back, soothing you in a way that could lull you asleep. His touch was the most relaxing thing ever, you were so calm with him and loved how he brought a side of you that’s never been shown. After this encounter you can no longer deny the way you feel— you are officially falling deeply in love your rental boyfriend, Seo Changbin.

The sound of your doorbell ringing alarms you of a new visitor, who was none other than your “boyfriend” waiting patiently outside the door for you. You feel and look like death itself, coming downstairs to answer the door still in your PJ’s and hair a disheveled mess. Every five seconds was interrupted with you coughing your lungs out, barely able to speak above a whisper. Changbin looks thrilled as ever to see you, even when you clearly don’t look your best he’s still coming up to hug you tightly. His hugs are always blocking off your airways from the way his muscles squeeze you, it’s even worse when you’re sick— practically gasping for air.

“Sorry babyy, I just missed you so much. I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day and soon as you said you’re sick I dropped everything to go make you this soup. It’s a specialty I make whenever my friends are sick, the perfect remedy to cure my princess.” He goes into your kitchen to heat up the soup in your microwave, making you wait patiently on the couch as you’re wrapped up in multiple blankets.

Your body feels like it’s -2 degrees, you were freezing. The crazy thing is your thermostat was set to 80 degrees, it was definitely you that was the problem. He propped your feet up on the table, rested a tray in your lap and set the bowl of soup on top. Brushing a couple strands of hair out your face he looks at you intently, examining your symptoms as if he’s a doctor.

“It’ll be okay soon love, I’m here to nurse you back to health again. Can’t see my pretty baby sick like this, makes me all sad.” He pouts, giving you a soft head pat like you’re a delicate kitten.

He takes a spoonful of the hot soup, slightly blowing on it before telling you to open up so you can eat. You don’t know what’s gotten into you but you feel like he’s gone too far with all this. It’s not fair for you to continue on if it’s just become torture now. He’s practically dangling in your face that you’ll never have a partner as perfect as him in your life.

“I- I can’t do this anymore Changbin..” you say lowly, refusing to eat the soup he made.

“What do you mean? I’m just feeding you soup, it’s my duty as your boyfriend to-”

“This isn’t real… none of it is. I’m stupid for even doing this but I was lonely.. I’m sorry but I’d prefer something that isn’t temporary.” You cut him off to express your pent up frustrations, ready to be let down and rejected by him as gently as possible.

“Then let’s make it real,” he proposes without any hesitation, “honestly I stopped faking it around our third date, it was all me after that. I never said anything because well… this is my job and I’ve never fallen for a client before so this is still all very new to me..”

You’d be screaming right now if you weren’t sick, instead you’re internally freaking out at this confession, it feels like your hearts doing cartwheels and somersaults.

“Seriously?” Eyes widening as you look at him, suddenly your body heat rises and you know it’s not because of the soup or the layers of blankets that’s covering you.

He nods, “I thought it was kinda obvious when we kissed yesterday..”

Oh yeah… you forgot that did happen. You thought it was another fever dream you might’ve just made up in your head. You shared your first kiss with someone you deemed so special and important to you, someone you never would’ve guessed could come into your life and shift the entirety of your world like magic. There was no one else in existence you wanted more than Changbin.

“Doesn’t that mean you’ll have to quit your job? I don’t want to be the reason you stop making such good income.. I’ll feel so bad.” You knew deep down you didn’t feel that badly about him quitting to date you instead. It was just the thought of him leaving something he’s been doing for years behind all for some girl he’s known for simply a week.

He shrugs at your comment, “I’ll be just fine, I was planning on finding a new job soon anyway. It gets kinda old after a while, I felt like I was on autopilot most of the time. You were able to get me to open up and show my true self, I could never thank you enough for that ___.” Changbin couldn’t resist the urge to plant a kiss to your forehead.

After everything that’s been said and done. What you’ve come to understand is that love is learned, a development that takes time to grow and blossom into something extraordinary. Just like learning a new language or a musical instrument, we learn love from society and cultures we’re raised in, it’s a beautiful thing once we know how to cherish it. Your newfound romance with Changbin is something you’ll learn to cherish forever and ever.

[End <3].

#skz fluff #skz x reader #changbin fluff #seo changbin fluff #stray kids imagines #skz drabbles #changbin x reader #changbin skz #changbin x female reader #seo changbin x reader #stray kids fluff #changbin scenarios #changbin drabbles #changbin imagines #skz au #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids drabbles #skz imagines

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hellisharchive · 3 months

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Some Adam smut with a fangirl? I mean he did mention a band.. so that means he would have a ton of fans across the music genre! And one in particular likes HIM the most. How would he handle that? Just like another groupie? Or maybe something more? Please have fun with this!!

・﹒・ diggin' on the guitarist - request

Summary: You wanted him to notice you- but you were too scared to make yourself known. You were his biggest fangirl but too shy to say something. However, he finally noticed you in ways you never could have imagined.

Warnings: 18+, fingering [reader receiving], aftercare

Pairing: Adam x Fem!Fangirl!reader

You went to his every show, but not feeling confident enough to go up and meet him as you would probably find someway to mess up. You had the biggest crush on him, biggest fangirl this side of Heaven regardless of what everyone else says. He was just so hot, you would kill just for a little wink at you. This show was no different as you jumped up with the crowd as you yelled along to his lyrics, always so passionate about his music, you loved the energy. By the end, you were exhausted and had another amazing time. Starting to leave after mostly everyone filed out, you felt a hand grab onto your wrist. Turning around, you saw that it was Adam himself. What did he want? With someone like you?

"Heeeyy now, where ya goin' hot stuff? Don't think I don't notice ya at every single show of mine. Gotta say, I'm always sad when I see ya leave. Not this time" He had on a smirk as he let you go, only to get right up in your personal space. Only then did you realize just how much bigger than he was from you, he had to lean down a good few inches just to be above your head. Face growing hot from the size difference, you panicked and looked around the now completely empty venue- it was just you two. Was this really happening? Did he actually notice you every single time? Freezing, you had no idea what to say and how to respond. He was your idol, your true love, and he actually noticed you. You felt like an idiot, like you were back in high school with a stupid crush on a guy. But, you try and muster up something and fail spectacularly.

"I uh- I just uh. Uhm-" A slim finger rested itself on your lips, promptly shutting you up. Eyes wide, you saw his mischievous ones as he pulled his finger away, grabbing onto your waist and walking you backstage into what looked like a sort of lounge room. You were shaky and unable to fully process everything that was happening. The Adam, the first man eas hitting on you, touching you, and bringing you on stage. Your dreams were all coming true.

"You don't have to say anything Babe, it's ok, I know I'm too awesome that I make you speechless. Now- sit down" You stayed silent as he gently pushed you onto the pale, golden couch, opting for being quiet that as the bst option so you don't keep making a fool of yourself. You didn't know what he was planning but you did as he asked, sitting on the cushions as he stood and hovered right over you.

"You ready to be pleasured by the original dick, Babe?" You nodded egarly and he chuckled before telling you to take off your clothes. You hurriedly rushed as you ripped them off while also being careful not to damage them, you felt the cold rush of air hit your now naked body. Staring up at the man, he took off his mask to reveal a handsome face with brown hair and gold eyes. It then occurs to you that you've never seen him without his mask, or anyone has.

"I know, I'm fucking handsome. Now sit back and relax as I give you a special show for my favorite fan" Before you could fully register that he said you were his favorite, he smashes his lips against yours and grabbed onto your tits. You moaned in his mouth as he tweaked your nipples, already making you so aroused as you grabbed onto his hair and tugged it. After a few minutes, he pulled away and took off all his clothes except his underwear. He then slid himself between your thighs, sloppily kissing your neck, causing you to moan loudly. He nipped and sucked until the point where you're sure there were at least 2 hickeys that would form. As he was doing that, he slipped a finger to your pussy, which caused you to jump in his hold. The first man moved down to suck on your tit, picking the nipple as he gently moved his finger right where your clit was, flicking it and gently dipping it into your folds.

"Adaaaammm..." You moaned, from the tit sucking to the feeling of his finger penetrating you was getting overwhelming. Squirming, you tugged on his hair and gripped it as he started to move in and out of you, switching the breast he was sucking to the other side. He then added a second finger, going faster as you could feel that familiar pool gather in your stomach, at this rate, you were going to orgasm in a little bit. Biting your lip, your breaths became fast and unsteady as he knew exactly how to move his fingers inside you as a guitarist.

"Keep moaning my name, its hot as fuck" Before you could release, he pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine from having your orgasm robbed from you. Chuckling, he took off his underwear to reveal an average sized cock, but it was pretty thick. Gulping, you wondered if it would even fit. Looking back up at him, he pulled you into a kiss- a softer one this time- as he lined himself up.

"Tell me if it gets too much, alright? Or tap me or some shit I don't know" Nodding, you took a deep breath as he slowly started to push in, with just his tip you were already feeling full. Grabbing onto his arms, you closed eyes and curled your toes as he was making sure to be gentle. Taking deep breaths, you felt kisses on your untouched side of your neck as he finally pushed all the way in. Opening your eyes, you saw him have a soft look on his face before he asked if you were ready. Saying yes, he started thrusting in and out. Yelling out his name, you moaned the entire time as he went slower at first before quickly picking up. Your arms were wrapped around his neck as you tugged on his hair hard, causing him to fuck you into the couch harder. Tears formed in your eyes from just how good it was- heavenly- if you will.

"Keep sounding like that and I'm gonna have to claim as mine, fuck" You could barely register what he said as he pounded into you mercilessly, the feeling of an orgasm quickly returning. You started sobbing as you finally orgasmed, moaning out his name so loud you swore all of Heaven heard you. Breath slowing down, he slowed down as well, hair all messy from your tugging, sweat covered both of your bodies as you stared into each other like old lovers. He gently slid himself out of you and you already missed the feeling of being so full. His cum and your fluids mixed as they leaked out of you. You watched as he grabbed a towel that he slightly wet and a water bottle and set them on the couch.

"Drink" He noticed you were out of it and shaky, so he opened the bottle and lifted the opening to your mouth, slightly leaning your head back as you drank some water. He set it back down when he thought you had enough for now and started to clean you off. He was being so gentle as he made sure to get every single part of your body. He went to grab your clothes when you tugged on his wrist, even if weakly, but it was enough to signal him.

"Can you uh...can we uh..." Your voice was hoarse from all the screaming and the water only did so much, but even after he fucked you silly, you still couldn't ask to cuddle with him. Smiling, he shook his head as he pulled away and grabbed a random blanket on a chair and walked back over, laying you down softly on the large couch. Resting the blanket on top of you, he crawled in behind you as he was much larger than you. Wrapping his arms around you, you felt him kiss your head, making your chest warm.

"Thank you for being my favorite fan"

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel adam x reader #adam x reader #adam

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wonysugar · 5 months

Text

birthday party | annyeongz

synopsis : your favorite couple, yujin and wonyoung, come over and give you a personal birthday party.

this is for the beautiful woman that is ena, one of my bestest friends, happy birthday to @pupyuj<33 here’s your gift mwah eat well i hope you had a wonderful day today i love youuu

pairing : gp!yujin x wonyoung x birthdaygirl!reader

genre : smut!!

tags : it’s your birthday!! birthday sex, drunk sex, daddy kink, mommy kink, threesomes, blowjob, g!p yujin, clit play, dirty talk, yknow, that funky stuff, annyeongz are dating! they call you a whore, bitch in heat, all of that stuff yippeee

a/n : this is not proofread sorry if there are any spelling mistakes~~

warnings : none! :]

word count : 1.2k

dingg!

you excitedly jump upon hearing your doorbell and rush over to your front door to open it, immediately greeted by your two best friends, wonyoung and yujin, grinning widely.

“happy birthday!” they yelled in unison as wonyoung went and hugged you, the both of them completely unaware of the fact that they’re still very much in the hallways of your apartment complex. you panicked, gently let go of wonyoung then dragged the couple into your home, quickly.

“not so loud???” you giggled, checking to see if any of your neighbors heard before closing the door instantly as your friends laughed with you, “but thank you so much guys, i’m so glad you could make it.” you smiled softly.

“of course y/n! how could we miss your birthday, c’mon now.” said yujin, settling the cake they bought you down on your living room table. wonyoung, as for her, she gently put down the huge bottle of alcohol on that same table. you stared at her in joking disbelief. in response, she guiltily smiled back at you.

“what? it’s your birthday, you havee to get wasted.” she tried justifying, but you saw past her tricks.

“oh be serious, you totally brought that just so you could get drunk out of your mind.” you responded, earning a joking eye roll from her, and a laugh from her girlfriend.

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel like getting drunk that night, though.

“ughh stop sulkinggg i already said that i was sorry. i’m sorry i forgot it y/nnn, i’ll bring you your gift tomorrow i promiseee. come on, how can i make it up to you??” affirmed a tipsy yujin as you narrowed your eyes at her, also very intoxicated. wonyoung, on her side of the table, was sat down just like all of you and was quiet as a mouse as she watched it all happen, clearly amused by the scene.

don’t be fooled, though, she was drunk too.

“hmmmm… only way i’d forgive you is… if you and your girl fucked me really well, to be honesttt.” is what unintentionally slipped out of your mouth. they were not lying when they said that the truth comes out when you’re not sober. yujin’s expression changed, her smile dropping by the millisecond.

shit.

shit?? yeah, you were drunk enough to let that happen, but you were also sober enough to grasp that saying that was not something you could just say.

“ahahah– sorry that was.. that was a bad joke-”

yujin laughed as she finally stood up from the ground, unzipping her jeans’ bracket– what the fuck. what the fuck was going on? was she actually gonna fuck you?? why the fuck was she hard??? already???? huh?????

whatever it was, wonyoung liked it, cause when you looked at her with a confused expression, she seemed even more amused now.

“guess we gotta give the birthday girl what she wants, right?”

no seriously what.

“wh– yujin, what are you doing–”

she approached you, then grabbed your jaw, her drunken gaze piercing through your, also very drunken, gaze, “it’s daddy to you now, got it?”

okay. maybe you could get behind this. whatever was going on, you liked it more than you’d like to admit.

you nodded reluctantly. as soon as you did, she smirked and quickly took off her belt, her pants and pulled down her boxers right after, her hard cock springing out. dear god, was it girthy. is that what wonyoung would it be whorish to say that you drooled a tad bit at the sight? well, even if it was, it was the truth.

“take off your skirt and go sit on mommy’s lap.” she coldly ordered, throwing a glance watching you look up at her as she lightly stroked the whole length of her dick.

with how drunk you were, you tried connecting the dots. since she was daddy, you could only assume that the ‘mommy’ in question was her girlfriend; wonyoung. you looked back at the latter, she was smiling at you with hooded eyes, patting her lap, indicating for you to take a seat. you enthusiastically took off your skirt and crawled over to her, already getting used to the role of the whore they wanted you to be for them.

once you got to wonyoung, her lips immediately met yours, the kiss hungry and passionate. she grabbed you and sat you down on her lap as she kept kissing you from behind, immediately feeling your slick coat on her thigh.

“so needy already, hm baby?” she asked you, moments before tossing aside your hair and planting wet kisses down your neck, earning eager nods and soft whimpers from you. “don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you, right my love?” she added, looking at yujin with lustful eyes. yujin only got closer to you and watched as you melted under her girlfriend’s touch. she was so turned on from the scene, staring back into wonyoung’s eyes like she wanted to eat her whole, and it showed. she eventually looked down at you, slapping her rock hard dick onto your face.

“come on, open your mouth, darling, she’s got a birthday gift for you, you’re not gonna reject it, right?.” whispered softly wonyoung into your ear moments before nibbling on it, placing her hand and gently rubbing on your clothed cunt as encouragement.

immediately, you obeyed and took yujin all at once, looking up at her. she didn’t waste any time, either. she forcefully shoved her cock into you, her tip hitting the back of your throat as she grunted, earning multiple, and i mean multiple, gags from you. as for, wonyoung was still teasing your clit through your panties.

“oh you just love daddy’s cock, don’t you, princess?” she asked you, biting her bottom lip as she tried suppressing her low moans, watching you nod as you moaned shamelessly, mouth full, “look at you, sucking me off like a– mmh— fucking whore. tell me you like daddy’s dick, come onnn.. i wanna hear you say it.” she added.

“honey, her mouth is full of you, she can’t even respond to you.” responded your best friend for you, her hand already inside your panties, twirling and playing with your throbbing clit while her other hand was on your waist, helping you ride her thigh.

“do you think the slut’s enjoying— fuckk– having her mouth used, baby?” she asked her girlfriend whilst caressing her soft hair.

“hmm.. she is really drenched, and she is grinding on my thigh like a bitch in heat, sooo… i think she does enjoy it. maybe she even wants you to fuck her throat rougher, don’t you think?”

you felt used, you felt good, you felt... theirs. it was like, at the end of the day, they were just a couple playing with you like a toy on the day of your birthday until you were driven to the edge, and you thoroughly enjoyed every second of it. yujin thrusted into your mouth, wonyoung rubbed your clit as you rode her thigh, and that was going on for a long, until yujin climaxed because, as embarrassing as it may be, feeling her warm load in your droop down your gullet turned you on so much that you just came at that moment.

and just when you thought it was over, wonyoung giggled in your ear,

“you don’t think it’s over already, right? this may be your birthday, but you don’t get to decide. mommy still hasn’t gotten to feel good.” she looked over to a smirking yujin, whose dick was already somewhat hard at the thought again.

oh lord. you were far from being done.

#smut #kpop gg #female reader #ive smut #annyeongz smut #annyeongz #wonyoung x yujin #yujin x wonyoung #ahn yujin x y/n #ahn yujin x reader #ahn yujin #jang wonyoung x female reader #jang wonyoung #jang wonyoung x y/n #wonyoung ive smut #wonyoung smut #yujin ive smut #yujin smut #gxg

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finalgirlfae · 11 months

Note

Can you write something where reader meets Mile’s parents for the first time as his gf?And they get along well:,))

meeting the parents, miles morales

genre: fluff

pairings: miles morales x fem reader

summary: you meet miles’ parents as his official girlfriend for the first time

notes: in my head the reader is afro latina like miles, and also my spanish is rough so bare with me for a second. also since people love to argue with me; before y'all start yes i know what the song is about🤗

“MILES i’m shitting bricks right now i’m so nervous.” you spoke to your boyfriend over facetime. two and a half months on a random new york city rooftop while the sun set, miles had asked you to be his girlfriend- officially. the two of you had been talking for about two months before he asked and now it was time for inevitable turning point in every relationship; meeting the parents.

you should be happy you made it this far! guys suck, but guys in new york city? they sucked even worse. so to meet a great guy who really liked you and wanted to introduce you to his parents was a major win. but there was a feeling eating at you, one that terrified you. what if his parents didn’t like you?

“what if i call platainos plantain and she tells me to get out of her house? i’m so scared-”

“baby, baby,” miles spoke from the phone on your dresser. you could hear the bustle of city traffic around him. “tómalo con calma mami, okay? you gotta relax.”

“tómalo con calma” you mimicked, “miles how can you tell me to take it easy? this is literally more stressful than our chem test last week.”

you heard miles wince over the phone. “you’re that nervous? yikes.”

you ran over to your phone and picked it up in panic. “what do you mean yikes??”

“nothing. look i’m outside, buzz me in.”

you sighed and walked out of your room to the living space, pressing the buzzer to open the door. miles would be up here in a minute and then you’d be on your way to meet his parents. his mom was making lunch for everyone.

you moved over to the mirror in your living room and gave yourself a good look, you didn’t want a single hair out of place when you met them. it was a warmer summer afternoon with the sun high in the sky, not a single cloud was in sight. to compensate the hot weather, you wore a faded green tank top with butterflies decorated on it with a clear quartz crystal necklace and denim skirt. your hair was in a ponytail, coils bunched tightly together and edges laid perfectly. you went over to the kitchen, opening the fridge door and getting the small bouquet of flowers you had bought for miles’ mom. they were pink and yellow tulips; her favorite according to miles.

when the door bell run you walked over, opening it to reveal your boyfriend. “hey baby.” he spoke, stepping into the apartment.

“hello my love.” you wrapped an arm around his waist, bringing the boy closer to you and leaning up on your tippy toes to give him a soft kiss. he smiled down at you, wrapping arms around your body and bringing you into another kiss. when you both pulled away he looked you up and down. “you look beautiful baby, those for me?” he joked, pointing at the flowers.

“thank you but no.” you gave him the flowers to hold and slipped on some air force ones, “these are for your mom.”

he gave you a big smile, kissing your temple. “that’s so sweet! very thoughtful, baby. she’s gonna love them- and you, let’s go.”

you couldn’t even respond before miles hand was wrapped around your wrist, tugging you wearily out of your new york city apartment. he barely gave you enough time to grab your purse before you two were walking down the street to the 2 train. five stops later you were walking out the station and to his apartment building.

“miles i’m scared.” you grimaced as you made your way into the elevator. he held your hand, giving it a gentle and reassuring squeeze. “there is nothing to be afraid of mi querida.”

“qué pasa si a ellas no les gusto?”

miles only sighed at your question. “ellos van a. even on the impossible chance they don’t it wouldn’t matter to me, i like you.”

a small smile spread on your face. “you know you’re so corny right? you got no game.” you laughed as the elevator dinged and the door opened.

“yeah but i still pulled you didn’t i?” he asked, smirking to himself and holding your hand as you walked down to his apartment. your heart was beating out of your chest.

“aye aye,” miles turned to you. fuck, you forgot he could hear things like that. “mi amor, estará ben. breathe, okay? they’re just people.”

“yeah cariño but they’re your people. it’s important to me how this lunch goes.”

he smiled and kissed your cheek. “me too. let’s go.” miles used the hand that wasn’t in your to find his keys. he unlocked the door, pushing it open and stepping inside. immediately your nose was hit with the smell of delicious food. there was music playing from the stereo under the tv, a song you recognized.

"mom, dad! estamos en casa!" he called out as he stepped out of his shoes. you did the same and hung your purse on a coat hook before taking the flowers from miles, he had held them on the way over.

a few seconds later his parents walked into the living room. miles nudged you and you walked over to meet them. "mom, dad, this is my girlfriend. y/n."

"hello." you smiled. "it's nice to meet you lieutenant and mrs morales." you shook his dad's hand before turning to his mom. "mrs. morales, these are for you." you handed her the bouquet and watched the smile spread on her face as she took them. she brought you into a hug, "it's nice to meet you too sweetheart, i've heard a lot about you."

when you two pulled away from the hug you could almost feel miles' smile, he knew that she'd like you. “y/n why don’t you sit down and miles you come help me bring the food out.”

“i can help you, ma’am."

she looked at you for a second before nodding. "thank you! the kitchen's that way." she pointed. you nodded and began walking. rio turned to look at miles, mouthing "she's very pretty" before following you into the kitchen. when you were both there miles and his father walked to set the table.

"so.." miles began. "what do you think?"

"i'm happy she's not white." his dad laughed, smacking his arm and making miles give him a face. he knew he was talking about his past situationship type thing with gwen. "come on dad seriously, what do you think of her?"

his dad placed down four glasses. "i think she's very nice, very pretty and well mannered. nice job."

you and rio walked back into the kitchen, both holding pots and pans.

"what did you make mami?" miles asked, pulling out a chair for you. when you sat down he smiled and pushed it in before sitting next to you. across from you two were his parents.

"i made mofongo, arroz con gandules, alcapurrias and some tostones. oh, and for dessert i made some quesitos."

"i love quesitos!" you exclaimed. she smiled at you. "i know, miles told me. you're panamanian, right?" she asked, sitting across from you and beginning to serve you some mofongo.

you nodded, thanking her and placing a napkin on your lap. "yeah, on my dad's side."

"what does your dad do?" lieutenant morales asked as he began to eat.

"he used to work nypd but he retired a few years ago, 20 years."

his dad nodded, seeming impressed.

as you began to ease into their presence, you eased into the conversation as well. everything felt so natural and soon all your fears were alleviated. miles parents were really nice and also funny as hell. besides that they were genuinely good people and you could understand why miles turned out to be the wonderful person he is. he had great role models.

as the meal winded down miles mom brought out two dozen fresh baked quesitos with powdered sugar on top. "careful." she said to you. "you might have to fight miles for them. his appetite has been insatiable lately."

you and miles both looked at each other, stifling laughter. just as you were about to respond the stereo distracted you.

un matrimonio africano esclavos de un el les daba muy mal trato

ya su negra le pegó español

"oh my god." you spoke standing up. all three of them looked at you. "what?"

el les daba muy mal trato y a su negra le pegó

"me encanta esta canción!" you grabbed miles' hands and pulled him into the living room.

y fue allí, se reveló el negro guapo tomó venganza por su amor yaún se escucha en la verja no le pegue a mi negra

as the music played, you and miles began to salsa dance around the living room. "you know for a superhero who's thing is being acrobatic, you're a surprisingly bad dancer." you teased, making sure to whisper.

no le pegue a la negra no le pegue a la negra

oye man no le pegue a la negra

miles sucked his teeth, "my thing is webs."

you gigled, "i bet you shoot them out your trasero."

"man shut up." miles laughed, grabbing your hands and doing a roomba as he spun you, "see," he asked, hands going back to your waist, "i ain't too bad."

lleva la cadena lleva la cadena

"you stole that move from me!" his dad exclaimed, pulling rio in by her waist and beginning to dance beside you two. the rest of the night was filled with dancing, laughter and conversation. it's safe to say miles' parents liked you, and that'd you'd be welcome for many more meals at the morales house.

#fluff #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #miles morales #request #faes requests #across the spiderverse

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perfumejamal · 5 months

Text

BETTER ME & YOU (k.s)

pairing: footballplayer!sunwooxf!reader

genre: smut, fluff

warnings: sunwoo is a little mean, cutie juyeon, oral, sex,no use of protection( STAY SAFE YALL), use of the nickname “princess”

you enter the warm coffee shop, following your regular routine: ordering your favorite coffee then rushing to class. after placing your order you quietly scoot to the waiting area, looking down at your phone as you receive a message from your best friend.

her: GIRL.

you: WHAT??

her: u will NOT believe who followed me omg .

you: omg who??

her: FUCKING. MARK LEE.

you: BRO??

you: THE ONE FROM UR ECON CLASS??

you: THE ONE WHOS JAEMIN’S FRIEND??

her: YES. YES.

you: that’s messy bitch

you: wasn’t jaemin ur ex lowkey ..

her: yeah but mark is cute idk…

as you were typing up a response the barista spoke up to notify you the drink was ready. you whispered a small thank you as you walked away before taking a sip of it.

fuck! this is way too much caramel.

while mentally cursing out the barista you became to absorbed in your conversation to realize there was someone in front of you. by the time you realized, you had already bumped into the person. as you both tried to hold your balance you failed.

“god, can you watch where you’re going?” said the guy across from you. the man in front of you was tall, he was also very pretty. you snap out of your thoughts seeing how rude he was. maybe those were good looks gone to waste.

you were about to curse him out, when you felt the sudden sting of hot coffee soak up your clothes. you let out a groan again before muttering, “asshole, you think i wanted to bump into you?”

you both continue to go back and forth before his friend lends you a hand to help you out, “sorry about him, i can buy you more coffee?” he smiled. “or better yet a change of clothes?”

you smile at him, “thanks so much, but it’s fine. i have to run to class im late!”

“here take my sweater to at least cover your shirt… its kinda see through.” he continued to maintain eye contact as you shuffled to cover your chest. “im juyeon by the way!”

this was lee juyeon. lee. fucking. juyeon. star player of the football team of your school. he was every girl’s crush. he was always accompanied by his large group of friends, who are all very hot.

and of course today he couldn’t be accompanied by a nice one. he was walking with kim sunwoo, who was another captain of the infamous football team. you sighed as you realized you knew way too much about these people who definitely didn’t even know you.

“yeah i know who you are, youre one of the star players of the football team.” you sighed. “oh god im so embarrassed…”

“okay, princess and the frog, can we move on from this shit, or are you guys gonna kiss and turn each other into frogs?” sunwoo spoke up annoyed tone coding his words. “come on juyeon, we gotta go to class or coach will make practice tougher today.”

you rolled your eyes as juyeon smiled again, “all right ill see you around princess?” your ears flushed at his statement.

you looked down at your phone quickly unlock it to text your friend.

you: BITCH.

her: what hoeeee

you: FUCKING LEE JUYEON GAVE ME HIS SWEATER.

her: OMFG UR LYING . he is so fine!

you: he’s finer up close oml

you: his annoying friend spilled coffee on me

you: and had the nerve to act like a bitch

you finally got through your whole lecture and all you could think of was juyeon, his beautiful smile, and gorgeous face. he left you his sweater and you were going feral. the scent was to die for, faint smell of expensive cologne and the sweet smell of vanilla.

as you walked out the school you heard some loud yelling from the schools gym. out of concern you take a peak to see a crowd of shirtless guys celebrating. in the crowd you locate juyeon. your heart melts as you see him smiling brightly.

he looks beautiful, the contrast of his muscles against the dimly lit light. you felt like you were dreaming, a smile creeping on your face as you watched him.

your smile quickly turns into a frown as sunwoo walks into your field of view. “what are you doing in the boy’s gym?” he questions. “are you stalking me?” he asked making a grossed out face.

you groan, “what’s your problem?” as you started unzipping the sweater. “im just here to return this to juyeon.”

“alright you can give it to me, ill give it to him.” he rolls his eyes grabbing the sweater from your hands harshly. you try not to smack him right there.

“you’re really annoying, you know that right?” you mutter loud enough for him to hear.

he gives you a questioning look, “hm? and what else?” he rolls his eyes making you more annoyed with him, but you stayed silent. your gaze shifting from sunwoo to juyeon.

sunwoo follows your gaze, turning around slightly in order to see what you were looking at, or better yet who. “what? you like him now?” he looks into your eyes as he leans on the door frame with a smirk, his body coming into your view. your cheeks quickly turn red and he lets out a chuckle. “knew it,”

you look away, breaking eye contact. “no, i -“ you were cut off by juyeon himself.

“sunwoo, coach said to come back we’re ordering pizza!” he smiled at sunwoo before turning to you once he noticed your presence. “coffee girl!”

your face started flushing again, “juyeon, hi! i just came to drop off your sweater.” you started shifting around in your place. sunwoo rolled his eyes out of annoyance once more. he stomped away towards the coach as juyeon talked to you. “alright, you have it now!” before you could get a reply you started to walk towards the exit.

“hey! wait! i never got your name?” juyeon yelled loud enough for you to hear. slightly raising his arm, muscles flexing.

“its y/n!” you yell back with a bright smile on your face. you covered your mouth once you saw students of other clubs come out of classroom glaring at you. “y/n!” you whisper-yelled this time.

“swing by practice again tomorrow, y/n!” he whisper-yelled your name to mock you.

you turned around with a bigger smile, but before you could even begin to celebrate your moment you saw sunwoo glaring the two of you. he looked pissed, but you couldn’t pinpoint as to why. you weren’t doing anything to annoy, if anything he’s annoying you.

you shrug it off and make your way out, heading to where your car was parked.

the next day approaches fast, and you get through the day just fine. today wasnt too bad as you got your coffee right this time, and you didnt bump into an annoying asshole with a cute friend.

speaking of devil, there he goes. his tall figure leaning against the the wall as he talked to a girl. he seemed uninterested as she talked his ear off

they seemed to be talking about something serious. you dont mean to eavesdrop… but its not being nosy if theyre being loud enough for you to hear right?

as you continued to look over to get a grasp of the situation, sunwoo’s eyes met with your own. his intense eye contact makes you a little nervous and he seems to notice as his lips carved into a sly smirk. his eyes stayed on yours as the girl kept talking to him.

you break eye contact as you see juyeon come out to greet you. “y/n! you actually showed.” he said with a smile.

“well since you had asked so nicely,” you smile. “sorry im a bit late, i had to return some books to the library.”

“it’s fine,” he smiled. “i actually wanted to talk to you,”

your face lightens up a little at the sound of that and you hum a small “mhm?”.

“one of my friends, eric, hes throwing a party this saturday. i was wondering if you wanted to come?” he let out smile. you stay composed on the outside but internally you were jumping up and down.

you were panicking inside: a cute guy just asked you to come to a party you would’ve never go to willingly. your eyes meet once more with sunwoo’s. he is watching the interaction intensely his brows raising slightly at you, anticipating the answer.

you look away as juyeon speaks up, “if you are free, of course!”

you snap out of your sudden trance, “yes! yes, id love to go!” you say a little too excited. “i mean, if you want me to i could,”

he chuckled at what you said, “okay great,” he smiled as he looked down at you. “give me your number so i can give you the details,”

sunwoo was pissed. he was not happy seeing this little scene play out. you were quick to give him your number and he couldn’t help but be pissed. why do you like juyeon so much? he walked away from the girl as she was talking, not caring about her look of disappointment. fuck, why do i care about who she gives her number to?

you were doing the dishes as your friend showered. you were humming to a song you heard earlier when she started talking from the bathroom, “y/n! have you chosen an outfit for the party yet?” she yelled, her voice sounding faint due to the running water. “it’s tomorrow,”

“not yet, i cant find anything cute in my closet.” you sighed. she came out the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her head and her long robe covering her body. “let’s go!” she said walking towards your room.

you followed right after her, “i’m telling you theres nothing good.” after the words left your mouth you were quickly shunned by doubt. if anyone was going to find an outfit it’d be her.

… and that she did. after a long hour of arguing and disagreement she finally prepared an outfit for tomorrow night. you both settled on a tight dress that hugged your curves perfectly and hung right below your inner thigh. even you didnt remember having this dress. and though, you typically didnt wear heels you borrowed one of her heels to match your dress.

“youre coming with me right?” you looked at her with pleading eyes and she smirked. “of course i am! a chance to hook up with one of the hot football players that play with your little boyfriend? sign me up!” she said shaking her body in excitement.

you rolled your eyes playfully. letting out a chuckle.

your clock read 9:50 p.m and you were on your way in a cab. you were wearing a tight black dress, your friend decided to go with a similar option. to say the least, you wanted juyeon to like you too.

you applied some lipgloss to your juicy lips as your friend spoke up, “juyeon will be amazed by your beauty, babes!” you smiled, putting down the little mirror you carried with you. you whispered a optimistic ‘i hope so!’

soon you arrived, and quickly sen juyeon a message so he could come outside and get you. shortly after you sent him a message he was already making his way out. he ran to you once he spotted you. “you look amazing, y/n.” he smiled into your hug. “you as well,” you blushed.

he greeted your friend too and soon you all make your way in to the house, the music getting louder as you enter further in. following juyeon lead you to the kitchen where everyone was getting drinks or playing beer pong.

as you turned around juyeon was gone. you shrugged it off, deciding to get a drink with your friend. in the haze of the moment you saw a familiar face, sunwoo. you rolled your eyes choosing to ignore his presence.

“you came?” he asked shocked. “well obviously, i am here.” you rolled your eyes causing your friend to laugh making sunwoo glare at you.

“i don’t appreciate your attitude, princess,” the roll of his tongue on the word making you scoff. you didn’t want to admit but sunwoo looked hot, and his words didn’t change your mind.

it was now 11:56 p.m and you took a sip of your drink. you were looking for juyeon or your friend. as you looked around, you spotted your friend talking to a guy, who you learned was juyeon’s friend. and juyeon was nowhere to be found.

you headed to the kitchen once more. as you entered the dimly decorated kitchen you spotted juyeon finally.

he was talking to the same girl from earlier. his hands were all over her and she giggled pulling him into a kiss.

you feel your heart sink. you put the cup down and head outside, sitting on the front porch. should you leave or wait for your friend? fuck it.

as you were getting ready to get up someone sat next to you, “alone?” sunwoo asked handing you a beer.

great. now sunwoo had to see you like this he’d make fun of you for sure. “yeah, i guess you can say that.”

he looked over at you worried. his eyes following your sad eyes. “what’s wrong?” was he actually being nice for once? you looked away from his gaze unable to look him in the eyes from the embarrassment.

“i tried to dress up. i thought maybe he’d like me too,” you laughed sadly. “but there he was making out with a girl.”

you drop your head only your lap, sighing. “you can laugh now sunwoo, i know you wanna,”

sunwoo took a long pause before saying anything, “y/n?” you hummed a soft ‘hm?’. “i’m not gonna laugh at you, princess,” he said, you quickly lift up your head quickly shifting your head to look at him.

“you’re not?” you ask, still in disbelief.

“no, why would i?” he rebutted. “you know, juyeon is a dumbass for not paying attention to you tonight.” you furrowed your brows at his comment, wondering what he meant by that.

“you look breathtaking,” his eyes locking with yours, both of you unable to look away from one another. you were about to break the silence when his soft lips kissed your own.

the kiss was soft, which surprised you since you thought sunwoo would be rough. he quickly pulled away, his face shocked at what he said and did. “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have kissed you,”

your lips form a slight pout before you nodded, maybe he was right. kissing him wasn’t the best thing to do right now… or so you tried to convince yourself. he coughed slightly, clearing his throat before speaking up, “do you want me to drive you home, y/n?” he asked with a serious tone. avoiding your eyes as he got up.

you quickly got up, nodding, “if you don’t mind,” you say before pulling your phone out to see if your friend wants a ride too. “let me ask my friend if she’s coming or not.”

you: i’m going home

you: are u okay staying i wouldn’t wanna ruin ur night

you: or do u wanna come back home w me

you: sunwoo’s driving

her: i think imma stay in hangin w hyunjae

her: if yk what i mean 😉

her: don’t wait up babes!!!

you: okayyyy have fun 😊

you put your phone away, “she said she will stay, we can go now.” you say and he starts walking to his car. both of you walking in an awkward silence.

you make it into the car and the silence feels worse. after asking you to type your address in the two of you fall back into the same silence from before.

damn it, why did i enjoy that kiss? you wondered why you couldn’t think about anything else as you looked out the window. sunwoo’s eyes looking over at you then at the road ahead.

he thought that maybe he should strike up a conversation, but decided against it as the car pulled up to your apartment complex. “alright, we are here,” he said quietly getting out the car with you. “i’ll walk you to the front,” he said. “since it’s dark,” he added to justify his decision.

you nodded and as you both reached your building’s entrance you turned to him. “thank you for driving me home,” you smiled slightly. “and walking me to the front!”

his lips curved into a smile unable to respond as his eyes shifted from your eyes to your lips. pushing himself to kiss your lips once more, this time his movements seemed rougher. his hands wondering your body, hands landing on your ass. he gave them a squeeze causing you to moan into the kiss.

you pull away, though you were eager for more. “let’s go up to my apartment,” you say, almost begging him to come up with you. you pulled him to follow you before he could even reply.

when you get to the elevator, you click the button, kissing him again as you two waited for the elevator. “i can’t believe you said you didn’t mean to kiss me,” you say in between kisses.

he chuckled against your lips. the elevator door opens, and you rush in. clicking the button to your floor impatiently as you and sunwoo kissed each other again. “fuck, you’re gonna kill me princess,”

the elevator door dinged, signaling you had gotten to your floor. you dragged sunwoo out and to your door. fumbling with the keys to quickly open the door.

as you and sunwoo were still kissing you entered and closed the door behind you. your hands wondered his body pulling his jacket off him as if you were a madwoman. “someone’s eager?” he moaned into your mouth causing you to giggle and nod.

“fuck, yes, i’m starving.” you take off his shirt staring at his half naked body with lustful eyes. this atmosphere was dangerous.

you continued to undress each other throwing the clothes around, not caring where they land. you drag him to your room. lightly pushing him to your bed as you climb on top of him. your lips locking again, moans pouring into your mouth as you grind against his growing bulge.

“fuck, princess…” he whimpered. “if you keep doing this i might cum right now,” he says in a low tone against your ears making you moan out.

you pulled away from him making your way down to sit on the floor between his legs. his eyes looked down at yours as if he was going insane at the lack of contact. his hand dragged out to touch his dick. using his hand to press it against your face, dragging his pre-cum against your rosie cheeks. slapping it softly to signal you to open up.

which you obliged to quickly. forming an ‘o’ to let him know you’re ready. well you think you are.. his dick is so big you second guess yourself.

sunwoo slowly enters your mouth, letting you get used to his length. you start bobbing your head up and down his dick, occasionally gagging at the fullness. you feel yourself getting wet at the sight of his pretty face in this moment.

your hand wonders to your core, rubbing circles causing you to moan against his dick, making him twitch slightly.

“shit, shit, princess, fuck…” the fuck drags out as you deepthroat him. “shit,” he whimpers as he fucks himself into your mouth emptying his load into your mouth. as he calms down from his high, you continue to suck him dry.

he taps your cheek softly, pulling you up to kiss him. “sunwoo, i need you to fuck me now,” you demand as he kisses your neck, “please, i need you.”

he nodded pulling you to sink onto his cock. your mouth opening and eyes rolling as you took in his length. he moaned into your ear, “fuck, princess, you feel so good.”

he thrusted into you at a fast pace, like he couldn’t get enough of you. “sunwoo- shit- you fill me up-p so fuck-fucking good, fuck!” he gropes your boobs, latching his mouth on one of them, giving you more pleasure.

as sunwoo fucked your brains out, you heard your phone ring. who the fuck… you decide on ignoring it, feeling too fucked out to even think about picking up. sunwoo read the name and smirked, “you should get that, babe,”

you roll your eyes from the hard thrusts. he hands you your phone and without looking at the name you answer it.

“hell-fuck-hello!” you try to respond as well as you can, given the fact that sunwoo is fucking you so good.

“y/n! you disappeared on me,” he said chuckling. your eyes widened at his voice, fuck, it’s juyeon. you try to tell sunwoo to stop but he won’t listen, going faster instead.

“s-sorry i wasn’t-t feeling g-good!” you yelp as sunwoo holds you in mating press, pulling you closer to him. his lips pressing against your temple, moving to whisper loud enough for you to hear, “baby, you can’t be moaning like that unless you want him to hear you…”

you move a hand to your mouth trying not to moan into the phone. “alright, just wanted to check in on you, y/n!” he said softly. “have a good night, pretty girl.”

sunwoo’s hand rests on your lower stomach, pushing against it slightly. “are you this horny because of me… or because of juyeon?”

you whimper out a response, “fuc-k for you!”

he smiles against your neck before sucking a hickey onto it, “that’s how it better be,” he says. “you’re mine, princess.”

he continues to fuck into you, and you can feel yourself getting closer.

his hand trails down to your clit, rubbing circles to push you over the edge. you moaned loudly, as your body shuttered at the strong feeling of satisfaction. “where do you want me to cum?”

“fuck! cum in me,” you say in the state of pleasure. “shi-shit,”

and he complies, filling you up. he pulls you down to lay next to you as you breathe heavily trying to calm down from that.

his dick still in you, as he is unable to pull out.

you wake up to the smell of pancakes. you get up from the bed noticing you’re only in your underwear and sunwoo’s shirt from last night. you smile to yourself before heading to the kitchen. you see sunwoo standing by the stove, you wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him from behind.

“good morning, princess,” he turns around to kiss you.

“it smells so good in here,” you smile at him. “mmm, i’m hungry!” you say getting a plate to serve yourself.

“you know what… i’m also hungry, princess.” he says following you. and you get him a plate too. he takes them from your hands and places them down before picking you up to help you get on the counter. “that’s not what i meant,”

you playfully roll your eyes and he smiles.

#sunwoo x reader #sunwoo x you #sunwoo #sunwoo smut #tbz x reader #tbz scenarios #tbz imagines #the boyz smut #the boyz scenarios #the boyz #perfumejamal

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kookslastbutton · 11 months

Text

Sidelines ༓ myg (m)

✑ Summary: Best friends since university, Yoongi has always been the first one rushing to your side. But when you fall into his arms after, yet again, another heartbreak, Yoongi reaches his breaking point.

Pairing: best friend!yoongi x fem!reader

AU/genre: angst, smut, fluff, friends2lovers, oneshot

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 3.6k+

Warnings: cursing, impulsive confession, sexual content, also reader's true feelings are left a bit open ended

Sexual warnings: dom!Yoongi, slight brat!sub!reader, unprotected sex (don't follow thier lead!), begging, spanking, penetration, f*ngering, cunn*lingus, t*t play, dirty talk, teasing, pet names (princess), slight degradation (b*tch)

Now playing: Love The Way You Lie, Infinity, Escapism+

A/N: Had this idea for a while so when I tell you I sprinted through this oneshot, I SPRINTED. I had so much fun writing this and it’s def going in my personal favorites even though it may be a bit melodramatic and short. Enjoy! 💞

Yoongi stares at his phone–waiting.

Waiting for your name to pop on the screen.

Waiting for your shaky voice to ring through the phone, asking to come over.

Waiting for you to throw yourself into him in desperation to be held.

It should happen anytime now. Why haven’t you called yet? He’s thinking about making the first move but no. That would look too suspicious.

"Dude, you gotta tell her.” Namjoon looks at his friend with deep compassion. He’s known Yoongi since college. Knows the type of heart he carries in his chest. It’s beautifully devoted, warm, and open. But this time…this time it’s too much.

"It's not my place Joon,” Yoongi rasps. “I made a promise.

Yoongi thinks back to the day he met you. It was a cool autumn morning and you were poking around every brick building, nearly walking in circles. It was clear you were searching for something. Turns out it was the dining hall, which was no easy task to find with the campus being the size it was. You were a transfer student and being a recent transfer himself, Yoongi gladly walked you over. That became the first of many memories you’d share together.

Late study nights where you’d fall asleep on his shoulder. Stealing his sweatshirt with a devious yet playful smile. Always having not one pack of gum, but three in your bag. You loved gum for some odd reason. By senior year, Yoongi missed those days most and he wanted more than anything to tell you that a peice of himself was with you. How could he tell you though when you had begun spending every night with the captain of the hockey team? No, he wasn’t going to get in the way.

But he really should have. Heartbreak number one came when you found out your lovely hockey boyfriend had his tongue down some chick’s throat at a frat party. You’re kicking yourself for ever bawling your eyes over that jerk. Perhaps more pressing however is that Yoongi knew your boyfriend wasn’t a great guy. He even tried dropping hints that you ought to be careful with him but you didn’t listen. Despite everything, Yoongi was still the first to show up beside you that day. You won’t forget it.

Now four years out of university, you have a new man of the year who is, for the first time, genuine. Or at least that’s what you think. Yoongi knows otherwise. Just the other day he overheard said boyfriend planning to break up with you. When Yoongi stepped out to confront him, your boyfriend begged that he be the one to tell you. Yoongi promised he wouldn’t say anything which is what brings him to this very moment now.

"You can't keep doing this,” Namjoon urges. “Being her saving grace, her constant shoulder to cry on. It's not fair especially when–”

"She's my friend. I'd do it for you too."

“Bullshit. You’re still in love with her and she doesn’t even think twice about it. She still thinks of you as her older brother.”

“So let her think of me that way. A friend, an older brother…I can't turn my back on her after all this time. I won't."

“All I’m suggesting are boundaries Yoon. Or better yet, tell her how you feel. You're not turning your back on her by being honest. I see how much it pains you to see her running around with no-good losers every year or two when you’re always right next to her.”

The truth in Namjoon’s words stings, pricks like thorns. Yoongi wishes they didn’t but the tensing of his muscles and the heat steadily climbing the back of his neck were clear signs that he couldn't repulse them.

“It’s too late for–__!”

Yoongi's eyes instantly gravitate to his cell vibrating against the coffee table. He snatches it in seconds, bringing it to his ear.

“Yoongi! I–he….Yoongi he ended it with me," you say, voice cracking. Though not in front of him, Yoongi could see the tears trickling down your cheeks. He could feel the sunkenness deep in your heart. He shared this pain with you many times before and it burned stronger each time. "I'm shocked. I didn’t think…I’m sorry I’m having trouble thinking and–and speaking. Yoongi, please, please can I come over? Or can you come here? I know it's late but I just really need to be with someone right now.”

Yoongi turns his gaze to Namjoon who mouths the words 'don't' but he can't bring himself to agree. It goes against his nature and his devotion to you. Maybe his friend is right and you'll only ever see him platonically. One thing's for sure though–he can't lose you.

"I'll be there as soon as I can. Stay there." Yoongi grabs his keys off the kitchen counter and bolts out the door.

"That jerk!" You splash cold water on your face, hoping it will clear your mascara-smudged face. Yoongi was about to come over and you looked like an absolute wreck. He couldn't see you like this again.

Quickly, you rush to your dresser and pull out a less wrinkled t-shirt and lounge pants. You head downstairs next to tidy up the space. You may or may not have had a tiny outrage after your boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend, told you he was leaving you. Yoongi couldn't see that either.

While cleaning your eyes prick with tears again. It hadn't registered to you now but there were reminders of your ex everywhere. Little gifts he'd given you. Pictures of the two of you on random excursions. How could he do this to you? You harden your face and stomp to the kitchen, searching for something big and black.

You start tossing everything in the garbage bag. Pictures, cards, trinkets, stuffed animals–it all went. And it felt good. It dried your tears. As you make your way around the room, you're suddenly stopped in your purge. A small smile breaks on your face when you see the gift Yoongi got you for graduation. It was a double picture frame with a vibrant orange leaf sealed inside. One photo was of you and Yoongi the first year you'd met. The other was the two of you on graduation day. Yoongi put this together to commemorate your friendship. He's still your day one, you sigh. Four years and he's still here to help you pick up the pieces.

"___!"

Thumpthumpthump

"It's me, open the door," Yoongi gruffs from the hallway. You drop the garbage bag and immediately stride over. You pat yourself down before letting him in.

"Yoongi, hi."

Yoongi takes your invitation and paces inside. "Bit of spring cleaning __?" Of course the garbage bag is the first thing he sees. You fiddle with your hands unsure what to say. "I'm sorry ___. He didn't deserve you."

You bury your face in his shoulder, biting back the growing temptation to cry. Yoongi brings you into a closer embrace. His arms hold firmly around your own shoulders. "Thank you for coming. I know it's late so I understand if you can't stay long."

"I'm here as long as you need." Yoongi pauses, recalling your brief conversation earlier on the phone. "You know you can cry around me ___."

"I'm f–"

"Fine?" Yoongi loosens his grip to look at you. "The clothes, the dried tears, the giant garbage bag in the living room? Needing someone to be here because you don't want to be alone tonight. What part is fine? Because I'm not. Neither are you." His thumb gently strokes your shoulders, soothing your tensed muscles. "So if you need to cry, yell, whatever. Do it."

Wetness caresses your cheeks again and this time you don't wipe them away. "Why does this keep happening?" Your voice cracks as you peer into your best friend's eyes. "They never love me. No one ever does."

His dark eyes soften and you nearly see them glass over through your own tear-filled eyes. You search Yoongi's face for a response but all Yoongi can hear is the echo of Namjoon's words – "All I’m suggesting are boundaries Yoon. Or better yet, tell her how you feel. You're not turning your back on her by being honest. I see how much it pains you to see her running around with no-good losers every year or two when you’re always right next to her".

Yoongi is silent for a moment, mauling over what his friend said. You see him hesitating for the first time in a while. "So–so why do you choose them?" He chokes.

You're a little stunned. This isn't how this usually goes. If you didn't know any better you'd think there was an accusatory tone in your best friend's question. It's unnatural and you're slow to reply.

"Because..."

Yoongi stands still, concentrated on you.

"I don't know. Because they seem kind? And I want to give them a chance."

That's it? Yoongi isn't sure he's hearing you right. Surely there would be more to it. He expected so. Before he's able to retract the words they're already out. "Then what am I? I've never had a chance."

Reflexively, you push away from him. No. No this isn't happening. You must have misheard. "What do you mean?"

"From someone, I mean. No one ever given me the chance to be with them like that so you're very...uh very open." Lies. You're lying again, Yoongi thinks. But look how she broke away from you?

"Oh, I thought you meant...."

You know what? Screw it. Namjoon's right–"You're not turning your back on her by being honest".

"I did." He clenches his fists. "I meant it exactly how you interpret it. I–I love you. And if it isn't love it's damn close."

Your heart drops, mind scatters in twisted directions. You've heard of friends growing feelings for each other before but you never thought–why now? After four years of being next to each other and going out with all those guys. Why didn't he say anything? And when did it happen? Did he always feel this way? Oh my god.

"Sorry, I panicked," Yoongi continues. "But those guys you go out with? They don't care about you like I do. Every time they hurt you it makes me want to scream 'I'm here if you see us as anything more'. But I'm terrified to lose you ___. That's why I kept it to myself."

"Yoongi I–I don't know if..." You stop seeing his heavy eyes. You don't want to break his heart but you can't tell what you're feeling. You never took the time to think of him in these terms. But one thing was for sure. You walk up to Yoongi and take hold of his hand. "You'll never lose me. Do you hear me? You're my best friend and I could never let you go."

"But did you hear me?" Yoongi squeezes your hand. "I love you ___. I don't expect it to be reciprocated so...."

"We can try." Without thinking you close the distance between your best friend. You move to press a soft kiss to his lips but Yoongi lunges backwards.

"Please don't," he says. "You don't need to force yourself ___. I'm sorry I shouldn't have said anything. It wasn't supposed to be about me tonight, I'm sorry."

"Don't say that. This is about us now, our friendship. I'm glad you told me and to be honest, I'm not saying no. I'm saying we can try."

Yoongi sighs and leans on the back of your couch, arms crossed and eyes downward. "You just got out of a relationship ___."

"Yeah so? We were only together for a few months. I don't even think I loved him."

"But you could have with more time."

You join Yoongi next to the couch. "I mean sure maybe if he didn't break up with me."

"___. Don't you see?" Yoongi turns his face towards yours. "We've had four years together. I don't want you to try to love me, I want you to love me naturally. Like I do. And if, after four years you don't then I don't want to put that kind of pressure on you."

"You're not pressuring me to do anything. You've always been there for me through everything and i care very deeply for you. Maybe I haven't thought of you as more than a friend because I didn't let myself to. Maybe I was too caught up in everyone else that I just..." You pause, setting a hand on his shoulder.

"What if we try and nothing changes? Or something happens and we break each other," Yoongi interrupts. "We'll never recover."

"Do you have that little faith in us?" You place a hand on his other shoulder, turning his whole body around. "Because I don't. Perhaps you're right that something might happen that makes things complicated. But I know we won't let it get out of hand. In fact, something beautiful might come out of this. Don't you want to find out?"

He does. Of course, he does. But was this how you really felt? "You were really upset earlier," he says. "I don't want to cloud your judgment, especially after what happened."

You lean into him closer, lips hovering over his. "I don't care about that anymore. All I care about is my best friend and I really, really want to give this a chance."

Yoongi searches for any hesitation. It's hard to do when you're mere inches from him. He's tempted to lean forward and close the distance completely– to say yes. So you do it for him.

You weave your hands through Yoongi's silky dark hair and press a firm kiss to his lips. He's disoriented at first but like a tidal wave, everything he's been holding back rushes out as he moves harder against you. You feel his hands travel down to the small of your back and snake around your waist. A tongue finds its way inside your mouth next. It dances with yours in a fiery passion. Your body burns up with every touch, every kiss. It's a foreign feeling but you welcome it.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Yoongi murmurs.

You give a faint smile and take his hand. "There's no one I'd rather do this with." You guide him down the hall and into your bedroom. Yoongi pulls you into another kiss, this time resting a pair of cool hands underneath the fabric of your t-shirt. You moan softly into the kiss and pull the t-shirt over your head.

"I'd tell you that you look beautiful but you already know that." Yoongi traces up your sides and along the band of your bra. It tickles for a moment but then you remember who you're with, where you are, and what you're doing.

"Not so fast," you pull back from his grasp and eye his covered chest. Yoongi picks up on your signal and rids himself of his shirt, revealing his smooth, tan torso. You've seen him shirtless before but when did he get so muscular?

With lust-blown eyes, you're pushed on your back next, sinking into your mattress. Yoongi hovers above you. A light peck is placed on your collarbone before moving to the valley between your neck and shoulder.

"Yoongi."

"Mm?"

"How long have you loved me?" Yoongi open-mouth kisses the ridge of your neck. You close your eyes, anticipating his response. "When did you know?"

"Last year of university when you started going out with that jackass on the hockey team." Yoongi lifts his head from your neck and looks at you. "What did you ever see in him? I thought you said you give the kind ones chances, not asses like him."

You nibble on your bottom lip and wrap your arms around his neck playfully. "Oh no, him? He was just hot. I wasn't really thinking very much when we got involved...if you know what I mean?" You raise an eyebrow but yelp when Yoongi digs his hands behind you to unhook your bra. He snaps the lacy fabric off the rest of your body and throws it on the ground.

"Yeah?" Yoongi gruffs. Well, who's little bitch are now? Answer me." He gives your left nipple a tug. You feel a wetness gather between your legs but it wasn't from the stimulation of your nipple. It was his tone, his demeanor. Yoongi never talked like this and it made all the hairs on your body stand.

"Are you–jealous?"

"Wrong answer princess." Yoongi pinches your nipple again. "I'll ask you again, who's bitch are you?"

"No ones." You flip the man over and straddle his waist. "Who's bitch are you?"

Yoongi growls and gives you a hard slap on your ass. When you let out a moan, the man underneath goes feral–riveting with desire. You're thrown on your back again with legs spread apart. Yoongi waits for your nod before yanking your pants off, along with your panties. He does the same to himself, cock hardening in your view. Fuck, you curse to yourself. You had no idea what he was packing until now.

Yoongi settles between your thighs and stares you dead straight in the eye. "We're gonna have a little competition princess. I'm gonna eat you out and if you finish without begging to have my cock then I'll be your bitch. Deal?"

You swallow hard and nod. Who knew your best friend was this nasty. "Deal," you reply, widening your legs. Yoongi smirks and runs a cool finger along your slit. You feel the pit of your core tighten upon contact but keep a straight face. "I thought you were eating me–fuck!"

Yoongi pushes in, breaching your walls as far as he could with his finger. He adds a second in after two pumps, focusing on your reaction. "There's something you should know ___." He begins circling his thumb on your clit, causing your head to throw back in the process. "I don't like brats. So if this was any other time, I'd probably already be fucking your tight, wet pussy. But it's our first time together." Yoongi retracts his fingers instantly, soaked with your cum. "I'll go easy on you."

"Shit." You claw at the sheets. Yoongi licks a long stripe up your folds, dipping between ever so often just to see your hips jolt. His hands dig into your inner thighs, driving your senses wild. "Ah! Yoongi!"

"Need to come princess?"

You struggle to reply, bringing a hand up to latch on his hair. "I–ah–I'm not even close-close yet!"

Hearing your response, Yoongi thrusts his fingers back in, creating a steady rhythm with his tongue. "Fuckfuckfuck!" you curse, knot twisting inside you. You feel Yoongi smirk that same cocky smirk from earlier as he continues eating you out. "Yoongi, I'm close now!"

"Are you? Beg for my cock and I'll let you come."

What the actual fuck? "You're such-ah-a cheater! Well I'm not gonna–fuck! Please, please I need to come."

No response.

"Okay...okayokay. Please, Yoongi, can I have your cock?" You immediately come, tightening your hold on his hair. "Oh my god Yoongi, you're so evil fuck!" You give him a slap on the chest once you release. Yoongi grins down at you and catches your wrist.

"Who's bitch are you?" Slowly, he crawls further up your body, pinning your arm above your head. He grabs your other arm and places it on top of the other. "Are you really not gonna say it?"

"Yours. I'm yours, Yoongi."

"Damn straight you are. Now keep them there." He squeezes your wrists together before placing his hands on either side of your head. He bends down and gives you a passionate kiss. "You really are beautiful ___. Are you still sure you wanna do this?"

"Please."

Yoongi caresses your check, aligns himself with your entrance, and pushes in. Your mouth falls wide, but nothing comes out for a moment. Once you adjust, you give a slight nod.

"Fuck." Yoongi moves inside you, penetrating through your velvety walls. Your eyes roll upwards as his close shut. "Oh god, Yoongi–faster please," you breathe.

Yoongi pushes deeper in you, his length pulling in and out of your hole at a rhythmic pace. Beads of sweat form along his forehead and your around your neck. You let out a loud moan once feeling the cord within you wind up again. Yoongi soon feels it too, quickening his speed.

"I can't believe we're doing this-ah shit!"

Your hands, struggling to stay down, jolt with every thrust. You look deep into Yoongi's eyes, his staring straight back into yours. You're both grinning too, like idiots really. "Me neither. But I'm glad we are."

Yoongi kisses you again. It's sloppier than before but you couldn't care less. "You're gonna come soon mm? Because I know I am. This pussy is so tight-fuck-it's basically swallowing my cock. Brat like you love this shit don't you?"

You laugh and rustle through his hair but your arm is pinned back down. Yoongi starts moving inside you as fast and hard as he can, breasts bouncing against his muscular chest. He so close and so are you. "Asked you a question princess."

Your back arches as he fucks into you. "Yes-yes we do! Fuck, I'm gonna come. If it doesn't happen now it'll–"

"Come for me __." Yoongi pushes himself into you one last time before both of you finish, gasping for breath. You feel his length pull out of you shortly after.

Side by side now, hot and sweaty, Yoongi looks at you. "What the fuck did we just do?"

You grin and leap on part of his chest. "We're giving us a chance."

"By starting with sex?" Yoongi throws an arm around you. "Let's do this properly and go on a date tomorrow."

You giggle and bury your head in his shoulder. Goof. Maybe, this does have a real chance of working out. "Okay," you whisper.

A/N: Thanks for stopping by! As always, lmk your thoughts. See ya! 💞

Masterlist

#btshoneyhive #bangtanbathhouse #yoongi smut #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts au #bts scenarios #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #fic:sidelines #kookslastbutton

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frenchkisstheabyss · 17 days

Text

♥︎ ₵₳₦ĐɎ ♥︎

♥︎ Pairing: lead singer!boyfriend!yuta x chubby!fem!bassist reader (you get mark & johnny as bandmates too so that's fun)

♥︎ Genre: rockstar au/fluff/angst/smut

♥︎ Summary: Joining your favorite band was a dream come true. That is until you fell for the lead singer who has no shortage of groupies throwing themselves at him. He says he loves you but can you really trust him? I mean, you used to be a groupie too after all.

♥︎ Word Count: 4.1k-ish

♥︎ Warnings: Strong language. If you don't like curse words I'm sorry babes. I'm a potty mouth. Unprotected sex, creampie, shower sex, rough sex, a lil choking, nibbling, scratching, fingering, marking, oral sex (f receiving), tattoos/piercings, pet names (daddy, baby, etc), a lil drop of mutual possessiveness.

♥︎ A/N: I've really been trying to have more fun with my fics and just let my brain do it's thing so I hope y'all have fun with it too, darlings.

“Yuta, I fucking love you!” an obnoxiously tipsy female voice screams from the crowd.

A bra comes soaring from the sea of bodies packed into the pit at the edge of the stage. The pink lace fabric lands at Yuta’s feet, draping itself across his scuffed black combat boots. Any band knows that when you stop the show to do something — tune your guitar, take a sip of water — it’s prime opportunity for anything to happen. And it almost always will.

It’s not like you can blame her. Once upon a time you’d been one of those girls in the crowd, lost in the chaos of the night. There’s nothing like it, the rush that you get when your heart seems to sync with the violent bashing of the drums. The distorted guitars like electric coursing through your veins. Every lyric floats through the air, becoming more and more a part of you with each breath you take in.

Then there was him…

Nakamoto Yuta. When your friends were all drooling over him you’d pretend you weren't interested. You’d never be so basic as to fall for the lead singer of the band. Maybe he did have the sort of voice that makes a girl melt even when he’s growling the filthiest lyrics. Especially when there’s growling. And maybe he did have bone structure to die for.

Then there were the tattoos, piercings, and the way sweat glistened on his chest halfway through a show. You weren’t won over by any of that. It was all about the music, one artist appreciating another. So when Yuta’s bassist quit the band and your manager broke the news that she’d gotten you an audition your intentions were purely artistic.

In this industry, a girl’s gotta work twice as hard as the guys to prove she can do half of what they can. You worked your ass off session after session, easily demolishing any other bassist their label could’ve suggested. You earned your spot in the band ten times over. Made sure no one could question why you were there. Then and only then did you let Yuta fuck your brains out.

Before shows, after shows. Tour buses. Hotels. Airport bathrooms. Green rooms. Whenever. Wherever. However. In the studio and onstage it was still about the music but everything else? All of it was driven by how much you lusted for and, much to your dismay, loved one another.

Recalling the heavenly experience it is to be bent over a bathroom sink with Yuta so deep inside of you that you feel it in the back of your throat, you can’t really blame Ms. Pink Lace for tossing her bra at him.

Kneeling down to pick up the bra, Yuta takes a look back at you. The most innocent face in the world, his baby angel, geared up and ready to commit murder.

You can’t really blame her but—

Fuck it. You do.

“I think she wants to come backstage after the show!” a guy shouts from the other side of the stage, garnering laughter from the crowd. Yuta smiles as he approaches the mic stand, the bra dangling from his fingers by the strap. “I think she wants my girl to kick my ass,” Yuta laughs, pushing his messy hair back out of his face.

“Kick his ass” Johnny whispers into his mic from the safety of his drum kit. Nearly spitting out the sip of water you’ve just taken, you toss the rest back at Johnny. The years of experience he has over you come in handy as he expertly dodges it.

“Boo, she doesn’t like to share!” Ms. Pink Lace shouts, not quite ready to back down.

Yuta steps aside and turns to you once more, “You wanna come answer this?” You unplug your bass and stroll to Yuta’s side with the sweetest smile on your face. “Do I share him?” you ask as if it’s the dumbest question you’ve ever heard in your life. It is. You lay your hand flat on his chest, running it all the way down to the waist of his pants. Looping a finger around his belt, you pull him closer and into a kiss deep enough to make you both forget you’re on stage.

When you finally break away, you borrow his mic for a quick announcement. “Our next song is called ‘In Your Fucking Dreams’!” Taking the bra from Yuta, you put it on over your dress. Ever the supportive boyfriend, he clasps it in the back for you and plants another kiss on your lips before you skip back to your spot.

“Well, then…” Yuta sings, “This is ‘In Your Fucking Dreams’” Mark laughs, strumming his guitar to warm up, “In your fucking dreams, parenthesis, thanks for the new bra.” The crowd cheers, basking in the chaos of it all. You plug your bass back up, ready to shred hard enough that your fingers bleed. You’re pissed, all of the boys know it, but the show must go on.

There’s no crying in punk rock.

“Are you crying?” Mark asks, spotting you amongst the legions staff shuffling around the halls backstage. “No” you sniffle, wiping the tears from your cheeks, “The lights were just hot and—” He grabs you by the arm, turning you to face him. “You’re a shitty liar. You’re crying. What’s wrong?”

Overhearing the conversation as he passes, Johnny doubles back. “Are you—” Johnny starts but figures it out before he has to speak another word, “Wait, don’t tell me you’re upset about that bra thing.” Feeling cornered, you try to push them aside but they don’t budge an inch. “Look, no. I don’t know. I’m just—fuck just leave me alone okay!” you snap, another wave of tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

Yuta finally catches up, his exhaustion turning to concern when he sees you. If you’re upset, even over the tiniest thing, everything stops for him including the urge to pass out after a show. He takes you by the hand, bringing you into his arms. He’s sticky and wet but his embrace is comforting all the same. “Baby,” he says softly, petting your hair, “What’s going on? Talk to me.” With so many eyes on you, you aren’t quite sure how to admit that Johnny’s right.

You are upset about the bra thing. Upset, embarrassed, angry, hurt — every mixture of things — and you can’t make sense of any of it. “Can we just go back to the hotel?” you ask, gathering whatever composure you have left. Yuta hesitates but gives in when he sees your eyes begging “Please”. “Uh, yeah. You guys—” he sighs, looking to the others. Johnny and Mark nod, getting the hint.

Mark pats him on the shoulder before walking ahead, “Got it, bro. We’ll catch you tomorrow.” Johnny hangs back for a second, leaning in to whisper into your ear, “Don’t worry, he’s so whipped for you. It’s, like, super sad.” Johnny’s comment gets a giggle out of you which is all he needed to feel okay walking away.

Yuta leads you back to the green room where he stays glued to you as you wait for the okay from your manager to leave. You’re relieved when you can finally go, the fresh night air soothing the suffocating feeling that’s been terrorizing you for the past hour. The ride back to the hotel is quiet with most of your time spent zoning out in the kaleidoscope of lights cast on you as you pass the local shops.

You can feel Yuta watching you, his hand firmly and lovingly holding yours, but can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. Not only are you the only girl in the band, you replaced someone fans already loved. Each night you have to fight for their respect, you knew this already. Now falling for him meant you had to fight for it in more ways than one. The girls will always be there in numbers your brain can’t even fathom, willing to do things that your brain, unfortunately, can fathom in nauseating detail.

“A girlfriend to a rockstar is like a bicycle to a fish. Fucking useless.”

That’s what one of the producers had advised him when you were supposed to be in the booth cluelessly recording your portion of a song. Those words crawled into the pit of your stomach, spreading doubt like a disease ever since.

By the time you’re done spiraling, you’re upstairs seated at the foot of the bed in your hotel room. Contrary to popular belief, your band’s not the type to trash hotel rooms. That’s why you get to book places as beautiful as this with little to no resistance. Everything’s sleek and modern with large three-panel windows that overlook the city. Abstract paintings adorn the walls making it feel more like an art gallery than a place you sleep but the warm overhead lighting saves it from feeling too stuffy.

“Hey, uh, could you shower with me?” Yuta asks, drawing your attention to the bathroom door. It’s only now that you notice the shower running and Yuta standing there in a towel. “I’d shower alone but I have a fear of showers” he adds, “Shower phobia. I’ve had it really bad since I was a kid.” “And Mark says I’m a shitty liar” you tease, flopping back onto the bed.

You can’t see Yuta but you hear him shuffling across the smooth carpeted floor. He stops at your feet, dropping to his knees and laying his head in your lap. Almost on their own, your fingers find a way into his hair and silky strands swirl around them. Yuta breathes in deep, hoping what he says next will soothe you. “You’re enough for me. You know that, right?”

Time seems to freeze and you along with it. Something you love about him, his ability to seemingly always know how you’re feeling, has finally come back to bite you in the ass. Why can’t he just be content pretending nothing happened?

“Yuta, I—” you say, sitting up enough to catch him staring at you the same way he had in the car. Only this time you don’t dodge his gaze, you let it pull you in. The man looking up at you isn’t the one in the magazines or on stage. There’s no act, only him and a heart pledged to you before you'd even known it. “What happened tonight, I’m sorry” he apologizes, “I can do better. I will.”

“What? No!” you gasp, bringing you both up so that you’re eye to eye, “Please don’t apologize. That’s not what I wanted.” Still on his knees, Yuta slips his hands beneath your dress, fingers massaging your plush thighs. Touching you isn’t always sexual. Sometimes he just wants to be connected to you. This is one of those times. Feeling your body warm against his palms eases the anxiety knocking around in his head. Even though you’re upset your body still responds with pleasure to him, giving into his touch. That’s how he knows he hasn’t lost you. The day it doesn’t—well, he tries not to imagine that.

“Do you think I’d cheat on you?” he asks, catching you off guard with his directness. You place a hand on each of his cheeks, squishing them together so his lips purse like the cutest fish you’ve ever seen. Yuta makes little smooching noises and you give him a peck on the lips. “I know you wouldn’t do that” you sigh, relaxing your hold on his cheeks, “But there’s a million girls out there who want you. I’m only one. What if someday you meet a girl and she’s everything you never knew you wanted?”

Yuta says nothing in response, simply staring at you for so long that you want to shake him to see if he’s alive. “There are a million other girls…” he admits, “Which is good for all of the guys I know want you because there’s only one of you and you’re mine.”

“Oh, Yuta, come off it—”

“I’m serious. I don’t give a shit how many girls are out there. You never have to worry about me finding what I never knew I wanted” he promises, gripping your hips to bring you in so tight that your legs are already wrapped around him. His lips brush yours, hitting you with a wicked mixture of chills and hot flashes. “I know who I want,” he whispers, nibbling at your bottom lip, “Who I love. I choose you. No one else. Can you trust that? For me?”

The sincerity in his voice, how it trembles with emotion when he says that he loves you, resonates more than anything he’s ever sung. His hands ease towards your inner thighs and they part for him instantly. The pad of his thumb brushes your clit through your panties and you shudder. “Yes,” you moan between his lips as his mouth captures yours. His kiss is like quicksand, the more you move the faster it drags you in. But there’s nothing to be done about it.

You’re ravenous for each other, your tongues performing an intricate dance that tangles you together. The movement of his thumb against your clit quickens, your hips arching to beg for more. “You love me baby?” he asks, trailing kisses down your chin. Tugging your panties to the side, his fingertips tease the slippery warmth of your entrance. “Yes, I…” you squeak, shivering when his fingers plunge into you, “Love you so much.”

Yuta’s tongue tickles your neck, love bites marking his way to your cleavage. “Tell me I’m yours,” he says, making no attempt to hide how desperate he is to hear you say it. Your walls clench around his fingers. He flexes them in response, the stretch so satisfying that your eyes nearly roll back. “I want you to own it so say it” he urges, pushing in deeper, “Tell me I’m yours.” Your arms come around his neck, your best attempt at staying upright.

“You’re mine. All mine” you moan, the faintest hint of possessiveness peeking through. It’s music to his ears, turning him on to the point that the towel’s virtually useless now in hiding how hard he is. Reaching between your bodies, you take him into your hand to delight in what you’ve done to him. Stroking up and down you feel the blood rushing up his shaft — veins throbbing, his arousal decorating your chipped nail polish.

“Is this mine too?” you joke, teasing the head of his cock with light circular movements. “Fuck, yes. You want it?” he mumbles, his face buried between your tits. He can barely breathe, he’s probably lightheaded, and it’s worth it. Gripping him by the back of the head, you bring him eye to eye with you again. “I want it” you grin, the fullness in your lower belly intensifying.

Yuta sticks his tongue out, curling it to wet his lips. Catching you off guard, he grabs you by the neck and pushes you back on the bed. Keeping you pinned by your neck, his free hand tears your panties to the side. His mouth latches onto your clit, licking and sucking at the sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re completely at his mercy, only able to shake and moan as he devours you. His tongue runs between the petal soft lips of your pussy, your juices the best drink he’s had all night.

“Find someone else?” he scoffs, taking a handful of your belly, “Who else’s pussy tastes this good, hmm?” His tongue slams into you, the hand around your throat bringing you flush against his face.

“Yuta, oh god — fuck — you can’t say things like that” you whimper, clawing at the sheets.

“Or what?”

Yuta pulls back, his face soaked with your juices, “Is my baby gonna cum if I tell her how good she tastes?” Refusing to wait for your answer, his tongue dips back inside of you. The ridges of your walls glide across his tastebuds, pulsing each time he swirls around and around. He’s relentless, letting up only for quick breaths of air. “So wet and so — mmm — fucking good” he groans, kissing your inner thigh.

When his tongue meets your core again you feel tingling in the tips of your toes and fingers. The tension in your stomach rises, your breaths growing shallow. Yuta releases your neck, locking his arms around your thighs to keep them spread. “That’s it, baby. That’s my girl. Cum for me.”

Pulling his tongue out, he drags it across your clit and sends you crashing over the edge. You throw your hand over your mouth, suppressing the incoherent moans that spill from your lips. Yuta snatches your hand away, holding you by the wrist just in time to hear those last few moans escape. Not missing a beat, he hops up and brings your limp body with him.

Disoriented, the rubbing of your thighs against your core causing some aftershock, you struggle to gain your footing. “You’re trying to kill me” you pout, leaning on him for support. “Why would I do that?” he asks, putting on his best innocent face, “We still have 10 more stops on the tour. The label would kill me.”

“I can’t stand you!” you say, slapping him on the cheek as softly as you can. Yuta winks, pinching you on the ass, “You’ll live. Now about that shower—” Shaking off the post-orgasm brain fog, you manage to hold yourself up enough to lock lips with him. It’s the clumsiest thing. Kissing, caressing, peeling away your clothes. All while blindly making your way to the shower.

You step into the shower first, expecting Yuta to follow immediately after but he stops short just outside of it.

“Were you, like, serious about that shower phobia thing?”

“No,” he laughs, “I just want to look at you for a second if that’s okay.”

Standing alone in the shower, steamy droplets of water running down the curves of your body, you’re pure perfection. A vine of cherry blossoms travels across your left shoulder, riding your love handles, your hips, down your thigh. He knows how long it took to finish that tattoo. All of the tiny gorgeous details missed by the naked eye. It’s been a secret mission of his to explore every aspect of it. And of you.

The admiration radiates off of him and you find yourself overcome with shyness. “Dude, come on. You’re making me nervous!” you say, hiding behind the shower curtain. Yuta jumps into the shower, hugging you from the side, “Oh my bad, dude. I call you ‘baby’ and I get ‘dude’?” Paying him no mind, you grab the body wash and begin to cover him in rose-scented bubbles.

“Don’t be a brat. I call you other things too. I call you baby—” Your fingers trace his collarbone. “I call you honey—” They travel across his shoulder, drifting down his back. You pause halfway down, “I call you…daddy.” You don’t even try to hide your amusement when your nails press into his lower back and he whimpers. “You—why would you do that?” Yuta asks, knowing very well why.

It does something for him when you call him that. Something that makes him want to tear you apart in the best way. Leaning against the shower wall, you play with his belly button piercing. “Did I do something wrong, d—ah!” Yuta lifts you up, bringing your legs around his waist. Catching your breath, you hold on tight, terrified to fall.

“I didn’t know you could do that.” Yuta giddily shifts your weight like it’s nothing, thrusting into you, “I know.” Still dripping from your last orgasm, he slips in easily. Almost too easily. There’s no teasing, no taking it slow. Every inch of him is buried deep inside of you. You can’t cover your mouth and the shower does nothing to conceal your overstimulated moans.

Yuta bounces you up and down on his cock. The water raining down on you causes a sharp slapping noise when your bodies come together. “Fuck me harder” you beg, knowing it’ll only make the sound louder. Always here to give you what you want, he fucks into you harder and harder. With every thrust you seem to get tighter, your body so needy for him that it can’t let go.

They say there’s nothing like it. The rush that you get from a concert. Your heart syncing with the violent bashing of the drums. Well, whoever said that, has no fucking idea what they’re talking about.

Yuta presses your legs back, the head of his cock thick and throbbing as he stimulates your sweet spot. “Baby, it feels too good” he pants, knowing he’s on the brink of coming undone. Purposely clenching as tight as you can, you rock your hips down onto him and he can’t hold out any longer. Now this rush? There’s nothing like this.

The fullness as he cums inside of you makes your second orgasm all the more intense when it consumes you. The two of you float in a state of euphoria somewhere between being out of your body and being hyper-aware of it all at once. Kissing you on the neck, Yuta carefully sets you down on your feet. Unable to hold himself up, he sits down in the bathtub. He holds his arms out to you and you make your way down, cuddling up to him.

“I love you, dude” he mocks, tracing the petals on your tattoo. You groan, rolling your eyes, “Yeah, yeah. I love you too.” You share a laugh at your mutual silliness and then…nothing. Only silence. Your breathing. The running of the water. Your heart and his. You may be in the business of noise but together you’ve found meaning in just being.

“Our band doesn’t really have a concept, you know? We kinda just do what we want. It’s a vibe” Mark explains to the journalist holding a mic way too close to his face.

When your label booked you for a weekend at one of the biggest festivals in the country they failed to tell you that you had interviews lined up. Let alone ones this painfully boring. So here you are, half dressed outside of your tour bus baking in the summer sun with a camera pointed at your faces.

“And vibes are important!” Johnny throws in, “People…they need vibes because without vibes, who are we? Am I right?” Mark stares into the camera, his mind truly blown, “Bro, that’s…deep.” The interviewer nods, pretending that he understood any of that, “Vibes. Right. So you guys are on another level and—”

Just that moment a group of girls pass by behind the camera. Dressed in their skimpiest festival gear, it takes zero effort on their part to reel Mark and Johnny in. “We are so sorry” Mark apologizes, quietly flirting with the girls, “We gotta go get ready for soundcheck.” “Soundcheck, yes! Gotta keep that sound checked” Johnny says, throwing up a peace sign.

As Mark and Johnny ditch the interview to recruit groupies, the interviewer turns to you and Yuta who’ve been praying that he’d forgotten you were there. “Well, uh, I guess it’s just me and the happy couple, huh?” the man asks, plastering on a smile. The two of you are collectively unmoved, though you’re a bit nicer about it than Yuta.

Like a shark, the interviewer smells blood in the water and the mic is in your face next. “Some would say you’re pretty brave dating a rock star. Aren’t you worried someone might try to steal him away?” You and Yuta share a knowing glance before you snatch the mic from the interviewer.

“No. I mean, have you seen me?” you ask, almost glowing as Yuta showers you with kisses, “Next question.” But there is no next question. You hand the mic to Yuta and walk off to avoid saying something you’ll regret.

“And then there was one. So I’m here with lead singer—”

“Yikes, sorry. I have…interview phobia? Yeah” Yuta lies, beginning to back out of frame before you get too far away. Nearly defeated and totally at a loss, the interviewer tries one more time to bait Yuta back in. “I was hoping we could finish this. Maybe I could ask a few more questions.” Yuta pretends to consider it for dramatic effect. “Better idea, you should pull out your phone and stream our new single ‘Don't Ask My Girlfriend Stupid Shit’.”

Noticing that Yuta’s still holding onto the microphone, you run back to steal it. “Parenthesis, thanks for the brand new mic, asshole!” you cackle, holding the metallic purple equipment up like a Grammy. You disappear again, this time with some new equipment. Yuta just shrugs, waving goodbye to the camera, “Love of my life.”

#nct 127 x reader #nct 127 x you #nct x reader #nct x you #yuta x reader #yuta x you #nct angst #nct smut #nct au #chubby reader #plus size reader

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ihrtchn · 9 months

Text

— all you need ;

→ pairing — minlix + m!reader

→ summary — felix and minho have been secretly watching over the supposed boy of each of their dreams. when they each finally get the courage to corner their boy and take what’s theirs, they realize that they’ve been in love with the same man.

→ genre — smut

→ warnings — extreme kinks (like very extreme, please be cautious), stalking, threesomes, cnc, bimbofication / mindbreaking, double penetration, degrading praise, god + master honorifics, oral (reader receiving and giving), domtop!minlix and subbottom!reader

→ word count — 2.45k

→ author’s note — oh boy, this is my first smut and i’m starting right out the gate with some heavy kinks! i saw this req by @nxthnii and just HAD to write it.

→ song (s) currently stuck in my head —

i can transform ya by chris brown feat. swizz beatz + lil wayne

i’m coming back to you.

so i really hope that you don’t mind.

i know you want me too.

even though you’re not mine,

you got that look in your eyes.

there were two things ruminating in minho’s brain at the moment: how undeniably horny he was and how breathtakingly beautiful you looked in the cheeky polaroid of you he was currently masturbating to. he didn’t even realize how he got here. from his perspective, the picture of you and his cock just landed in his grip, and he wasn’t complaining. it didn’t take him long to finish, his mind cloudy and swirling with the imprinted image of his favorite person in his mind as he lie underneath his silk sheets. he couldn’t sit in his filth for too long before jumping up and heading into the shower. even though the water was piping hot, his bare body was cold; the loneliness and craving for you overwhelming him so badly that he grabbed his phone charging on his bathroom’s mahogany countertop to call the only contact in his phone, his friend felix.

“hello?” felix answered sleepily, despite it being 8 pm.

“i gotta get out the house, man. desperately,” minho responded, not even acknowledging the other’s greeting.

felix immediately understood, ending their conversation short after letting the other know he was on the way. it didn’t take long for him to arrive at minho’s apartment complex, a quick run up two flights of stairs and a doorbell ring away from ending up crosslegged on minho’s black leather couch. the two haven’t spoken in a minute, their individually busy schedules preventing them. yet, conversation came easy. two hours of talking eventually led down the path of relationships, a topic the two men haven’t spoken about before.

“so… how’s dating going? any current prospects up for the love of the illustrious lee minho?” felix joked, his arms rested behind his head while his short fingers toyed with his blond locks.

minho never knew how to respond to that question. how does he admit publicly that he’s been stalking the same boy for three years and is deluded enough to think they’ll one day be together?

“nothing much, you know.. just.. hanging.” was the answer he ended up giving felix, his mind blank before clearing his throat to reciprocate the question.

“i’ve been thinking about this one guy,” felix started, “he goes to my gym and i stare at him while he weight trains.” felix gushed, his eyes glistening as a rose tint began to pepper his cheeks. “it sucks, though. i don’t know his name. but, i know that he works at this coffee shop up the street, and i was planning on going there today to see if i could ask him out!”

felix watched minho’s cat like lips curl up into a smirk. he began understandingly, “i think you should go after him.” felix’s eyes widened, “are you sure, hyung? i know you wanted some company.” minho nodded in response, beginning to stand and collect his belongings to leave his apartment. “i definitely do. i have something…,” he paused to check his watch for the time, “…that i need to do myself. so, go! have your fun.” felix jumped up giddily, rushing to grab his things before rushing out with a ‘bye!’

as minho laid in the overgrown bushes of the the apartment complex that was now so familiar to him later that night, his eyes darted around frantically. he knew where you worked. he knew where you slept. and, he waited for you every night. he knew what times you left and came, watching protectively to assure you arrived home safe. felix had left his apartment about 30 minutes ago, and right when he left, it was time for minho to arrive at his watchful post. he assumed today’s schedule was no different as he sat and waited, checking his apple watch occasionally as time passed by.

9:30…

10:00…

10:30…

11:00….

this was uncharacteristic of you. usually, you’d be home by 10:15. minho’s watch, phone, and patience we’re slowly draining, and his irritation only worsened when he saw your figure stumbling drunkily towards your front door with… someone else? if he expected anything, it definitely wasn’t that. he’d been observing your every move for years, and you weren’t the type to get blasted after work and rush home in the after hours with a random stranger. his mind was racing, thoughts flooding him as he flowed through his concurrent emotions. after irritation, however, came anger. anger that you would dare promiscuously flaunt yourself around. that you would dare have him worried sick about your well-being. that you dare be with anyone else but him.

it didn’t take long after seeing you enter the building before he followed earnestly behind, his eyes low and passionate as he tried to get a good look of the man you were with, the man he would have to eliminate. soon enough, he was at your front door. with shaky hands, he reached in his pocket for the secret key that he owned to your apartment and unlocked the door, his eyes wide with shock as he walked in and shut the door behind himself.

there you were. on your knees for the stranger with his cock deep down your throat. the overhead fixture gleaming brightly as it exposed your perverted state on your kitchen floor. the stranger’s hand on your chin as he sat at your table, your eyes glistening— drunk, and fucked out, and the thick cock of the man taking what belonged to minho. he didn’t know how to address this situation. should he cough? run up and shove himself down your throat? go grab a knife and attack the stranger? his mind was in complete survival mode; territorially wanting to put a stop to his worst nightmare. his brain fumbled through these few options before just deciding to go up and make the stranger reveal himself.

minho rushed over, shoving the other man aggressively. “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he growled, his vision and the figures in front of him growing hazy in the heat of his rage. once his eyes settled, the sound he almost let out was abysmal. the stranger was none other than lee felix. he didn’t know how to react, his throat suddenly dry while he attempted to speak.

“f-felix…?” he croaked, his eyes wide like a deer in headlights. felix was equally as stunned. he hadn’t a clue what was going on. after leaving minho’s apartment, he rushed to the cafe where you worked, barely catching you before you left. the two of you chatted for a while before ending up at the bar two blocks from your apartment. it was felix’s idea to head to the bar instead of the much closer restaurant, and if you asked, he wouldn’t tell you it was to get you drunk. but, that’s exactly what it was. after achieving his goal, he walked you home, perversely waiting for you to get drunk and horny enough after letting him in to let him ruin you. luckily for him, that was as soon as humanly possible. you sat still on your knees, your body hot and breath uneven as your drunken mind tried to process the events unfolding in front of you. part of you was terrified. how did this stranger get in? why are they upset that you're fucking felix? and why does it seem the two of them know each other?

but...

another part of you was too horny to function. your mind racing with the previous fantasies you've had of someone breaking into your apartment and fucking you senseless, and you wouldn't let this opportunity pass up. so you finally spoke.

"i can take you both," you said as you began crawling seductively until you sat prettily between the gap in the two men. they stared at each other, unable to speak. felix and minho both finally had the boy they had been pursuing underneath them, and they each wouldn't let an opportunity of their own fall through. they glanced at each other, a competing level of lust filling their looks before they moved their attention back to you.

"on your bed. arms and legs spread out. you're going to experience the fuck of a lifetime, boy," minho snarled sexily, his eyes dark as he began to walk to your bedroom. you quickly stood up, rushing towards the room feverously with felix rushing eagerly behind you. as you laid on the bed, minho began to unbuckle his belt before gesturing for felix to do the same. as minho began to tie your arms up against your bed frame, he watched you wither around. you were reaching the peak of your drunkenness and your neediness was fading, so you whined softly, begging for some kind of stimulation quickly. that earned you a smack across the face from minho, who chuckled at you darkly.

"look at you, baby. desperate for your two strangers to touch you just so you can get your perverted little climax," he spoke before leaning down to whisper in your ear, the hair on your neck standing up at the feeling of his minty breath against your hot skin, "unfortunately for you, that won't be coming so soon." instantaneously, he latched to your lips, kissing you deeply like he would never kiss anyone else ever again. the kiss was surprisingly passionate and sensitive despite the circumstances, and something about that fact lit the fire in your stomach all over again, your cock beginning to twitch just from being craved so deeply. felix just sat and watched intensely, his hand lightly palming himself before he cleared his throat to announce his presence. "pay some attention to me too, angel. i would really appreciate your help again," he started as he began to make his way to the head of the bed. he looked at minho for conformation before patting your cheek lightly as a signal for you to open wide. you opened your mouth wide with your tongue flat and eyes wide with excitement, and felix couldn't contain himself, shoving his length deep down your throat again with a guttural groan.

minho was growing increasingly jealous just watching the scene, and it only egged him on to be more aggressive. he moved his kisses down from your lips to your collarbones, sucking and biting on them so hard, you thought you were bleeding. every whimper you let out only grew his confidence, and eventually, he was all the way to your nipples, giving them the same treatment as the rest of his marks. just watching your dick get progressively harder from being faced-fuck and teased so slowly was making a tent large in minho's pants.

"i didn't know this was the boy you were talking about, felix," said minho as he kissed from your left nipple to the middle of your chest and progressively moved down your stomach. as you watched minho make his way to the spot you wanted touched the most, you shuddered which elicited a tsk from the elder.

"and i didn't know you had your eyes on anyone. i guess it's time to fight for him," felix retorted, his hand raking through your h/c strands as he held your head in place and thrusted.

"may the best man win," shrugged minho before he finally wrapped his plump pink lips around your leaking tip, sucking on it ever so slightly. "but, it seems i've already got him under my control. isn't that right, baby? tell felix how much you love when your god touches you."

"fu-fuck yes, god! i love it when you touch me," you exclaimed, your brain mushy from the stimulation. obviously, that made felix angrily thrust faster into your throat, abusing it mercilessly before growling out in his huskily deep accented voice, "well, tell your god that you only need your master, and that you only want his cock." at this point, drool was falling out of your mouth and your throat was so full you could barely speak, so all you managed to muster out was a pitiful "m-master..." before you gagged so hard felix's cock fell out of your mouth. with this time to collect yourself and gather your thoughts, you looked up to both of your domineering partners, your eyes low from being fucked silly.

"i want you both inside of me. i want you both to coat my inside with your gross fucking cum, and i want to be both of yours. please my god. please, my master. i want to feel so good," you begged as you desperately tugged on minho's pant leg.

"fucking whore. such a pretty little fuckdoll for us, right, felix," minho questioned as he watched you pull on his pants, "should we give our boy what he needs?" felix sat and pretended to ponder, hesitating only so he could hear your sounds. "i think so, hyung. why don't you take him first," felix said with a devilish smile, slapping his cock against your cheeks with a groan at the precum beading on your face before moving back around to the head of the bed and beginning to strip. minho followed suit, taking his clothes off slowly as he gave you a show. the two of them then positioned themselves on the bed in front of your wet hole with minho underneath you before he forced himself in hastily. he began thrusting at an inhuman speed, stretching you out like he was hate fucking you.

"god... you're so fucking tight, baby," minho grunted as he gripped your waist and took what belonged to him for the first time.

before long, he instructed felix, who was impatiently waiting on the side stroking himself, that he could finally fit in as well. felix immediately took the opportunity and moved in front of you and began to struggle to insert himself inside of you. after a slight readjustment, he slid himself balls deep inside of you. the two men sat still as patiently as they could to let you grow accustomed to the fullness in your stomach. they could both tell you were close and wanted to use you as much as possible until you withered for them. unexpectedly, they both began to thrust at a similarly aggressive rhythm, the feeling of both cocks fucking your insides driving you so insane, you could barely form coherent thoughts.

"nghh.. feels so so so good," you moaned shakily, your mind completely broken.

"good boy. such a good fucking boy," felix grunted as he collapsed onto his arms over you and minho's bodies, fucking into you feverishly. once you felt them both hit that specific spot in your prostate, you wailed, cumming all over both you and felix's stomach. the sight was enchanting, and made both men exclaim. "fuck, i'm gonna fucking cum!" minho moaned as you began to rock your hips into him to stimulate the men even more. "me... me too...," felix whined as they both simultaneously filled your hole to the brim with their cum.

as you all came down from your heightened states, you laid in each other's arms, catching your breath as you studied the features of the beautiful men intertwined with you. and all you could hope was that this would be happening again soon.

705 notes · View notes

bloodypeachblog · 1 year

Text

The Tumblr Yandere Quintet (Peter, Sunny Day Jack, John Doe, Damon, and Alan Orion) - my personal headcanons SFW + NSFW

(TW: blood, knives, death, cannibalism, anything associated with yanderes will most likely be here, so you've been warned)

A/N: btw they coexist in the same universe here. Like, let's say they all live together in a house with Y/N. Why? Because I can. Also this is all F!Reader, so yeah.

~♡~Peter~♡~

• He is shy boi when it comes to you. He acts confident, but underneath he is lowkey panicking.

• But towards others, he is brat. Just, burns and roasts up the wazoo. It's like the person flips the switch and activates his bitch mode.

• he loves playing video games, anything that seem interesting to him. He loves Dead by Daylight and his favorite role is the killer.

• True Crime Aficionado. He listens to podcasts, watches documentaries and movies and YouTube videos, he knows serial killers' stories like the back of his hand.

• he can cook and bake pretty well. He's not Gordon Ramsay levels of good, but he very rarely makes a bad dish. He likes to make food for you and watch your reactions to it.

• as a boyfriend, he is such a hopeless romantic. Roses, poems, serenades (he's not confident in his singing voice, so he plays songs that say whatever he's feeling and sends you the youtube link to listen to them, or just blaring them on the radio outside your window), the whole shebang. Of course, he's not obnoxious about it. Just enough to make you swoon.

• You guys know that old famous photo of a soldier kissing his girlfriend after WW2? Yeah, Peter loves doing that to you.

• pet names for you: Darling, Honey, Baby, Princess, Angel. Basic stuff.

♡NSFW♡

• he likes to nibble on your ear. He loves your reactions to it.

• guy is a straight-up pervert. He'd grope you when you're alone and make dirty jokes. You'd blush tomato red each time.

• angel on the streets, devil in the sheets. More like incubus in the sheets. He will find ways to make you moan his name.

• WHAT DAT TONGUE DO THO? OH LAWD Seriously, when he eats you out, you swear you can feel the very tip of his tongue brush against your cervix.

• favorite positions are missionary, mating press, and doggy style. But he likes oral too, both sides. He loves feeling your warm mouth taking in his cock, he struggles not to cum right then and there. He loves your taste, he can't get enough of it.

•some nights he can be gentle, other nights he'll fuck you into the dirt.

• his cock is about 5.6 inches, good thickness. Not the dick of the gods, but still something to brag about. Very pretty, too.

• Knifeplay? On you, depends on if you're into it or not. On him, FUCK YEAH. He fantasizes about you using a knife to write your name on his chest. Getting cut gives him the biggest hard-on, he'd be already dripping pre-cum. And if you lick the cuts? Oh, this man will cum immediately.

• Anal? Hell yeah. If you're okay with it, of course.

~~~~~

~♡~Damon~♡~

• He's more chill and laid back. Also he's emo. Because I said so.

• He likes listening to music. He likes any genre, but he tends to leans towards emo bands, stuff from Lapfox Trax, and metal. But you play a country song, he will destroy the radio or debate on murdering the artist.

• He wears his puffy coat almost 24/7. I say almost because he can't wear it in the shower. He loves to share it with you, the whole two person in one coat thing couples do.

• he's a cuddle bug, but won't admit it. If you tease him about it, he'll deny it and blush.

• he acts like a kuudere to others, if not annoyed. But when with you, he's so sweet. He'd give you his umbrella if it's raining and you didn't have one.

• Dude can cook, if you can call preparing instant ramen in the microwave 'cooking'.

• This guy loves meat and chewing on bones, so I bet he is also a secret cannibal, but only eats his victims. Gotta get rid of the bodies somehow! He has Peter help with preparing and cooking the meat, but Damon never says where he got it. Peter knows, though, but he don't really care.

• pet names for you: Babe, Sweetie, Lovely

♡NSFW♡

• Favorite positions are you on top, and the position where you're on your stomach and he has your arm behind your back.

• He is SO loving and gentle most of the time. He just wants to make sure you're getting enough. You will cum many times before he even finishes.

• but once in a while, expect to be sore in the morning, some bruises here and there from how much he grips you.

• master of seduction right here. He will whisper in your ear the sweetest yet dirtiest stuff, maybe some erotica limerick/sonnet he found online. His voice is so smooth it makes your core tingle just by hearing it.

• his dick is pretty average, but it's not a bad thing. It gets the job done just fine and you're not complaining.

• he does have a bondage fetish. He loves to tie you to the bed and on special occasions, like your birthday, he'll tie himself up and let you do whatever you want.

• Anal? Nah. Unless you beg for it.

• dude loves meat, so... he has a dolcett fetish. (Don't know what it is? ...eh google it, I'm not your mom. But don't say I didn't warn you.) He never acts on it really [he may eat people, but he doesn't get off to it because he feels like he'd be cheating on you], but his phone and laptop has a folder with hundreds of pics/videos of dolcett porn. Sort of a guily pleasure fetish, emphasis on the pleasure.

~~~~~

~♡~Alan~♡~

• He is such a good boi. Sweetest boi in the world. Pure sugar cookie.

• he is the outdoorsy guy, hunting, fishing, camping, all that stuff. Dude lives in the woods.

• he's the one who brings home fish or game for dinner. Preps it himself in the garage. Expect to find some deer or birds hanging from the ceiling.

• he's a pro at bonfires. Knows all the different ways to burn wood.

• Cooking? He prefers to grill or cook over a fire. He sometimes indulges in Damon's choice of meats, but no one ever tells him what it is. So don't tell him. It'd break the guy...

• he is such a sweetheart. Asking if you're feeling ok, if you need any help with anything, just so considerate. Heavy follower of PDA.

• unashamed cuddler. When you two go camping, he has you in the same sleeping bag as him.

• HUGE astrology and astronomy nerd. He will talk your ear off about the star constellations and tell you your horoscope of the day and if you are compatible with him or anyone else in the group.

• pet names: Doe-Eyes, darling, honey, dear, love

♡NSFW♡

• he's more on the gentler side of things. Perfect candidate for your first time. He will comfort you if it hurts and praise you so much.

• favorite positions are where he can look at you splayed out and writhing in pleasure. Mostly missionary.

• man is a pussy eater. On bad days, he gives you puppy dog eyes and asks to eat you out. With those eyes, you can't help but say yes.

• he likes to nibble and bite. Favorite place to bite is your thighs. He can leave marks, but never breaks skin. If he does, he'll stop and patch you up.

• his cock is the smallest in the group, but not in general. It's pretty average, nothing to complain about. He's a grower, not a shower. You secretly find his cock (both erect and flaccid) adorable, but you never say that to his face.

• does he do anal? Only if you ask him to, but even then, he's hesitant. He will make sure you're prepped well.

~~~~~

~♡~Jack~♡~

• the ray of sunshine in the group. Always trying to cheer people up.

• he loves to give hugs any time, any day, any where

• he is such an 80s retro nerd. He has a collection of games and movies from that era. Favorite movies are The Breakfast Club and Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Favorite arcade game is Dragon's Lair or Pac-Man.

• definitely the fashionista of the group. He loves to create outfits for you to wear, making sure the colors compliment each other. He does this for the other guys too, but some are not sure how to feel about it.

• dude is the kind of guy who would wear a nun's halloween outfit as his costume for reals and awaken some people while wearing it. He makes any outfit sexy.

• Cooking? He prefers to bake. Champion at breakfasts. Favorite thing to make is blueberry pancakes.

• Himbo. Just. Pure grade-A himbo.

♡NSFW♡

• bruh, this man will be cheery and bubbly during the day, total daddy at night. Holy shit.

• he will show you that you are his and only his. He's only sharing you with the other guys just to make you happy.

• man's got a body like Adonis. He's got a chest where he got man tiddies.

• his cock? HOLY FUCK. He's the biggest out of the group and he has to force his way inside you sometimes (this is canon, I swear, I've seen that clip). It is downright BEAUTIFUL. You swear, he is some sort of god.

• his favorite positions are 1) where you're both on your sides, him behind you, lifting your leg so he can plow you while kissing your neck and whispering sweet nothings and dirty shit in your ear. And 2) that position where you're on your belly and he is behind you, raising your ass to him and he has your arm pinned behind your back.

• he is definitely heavy on the praise. He sees you as a goddess. Expect him to make you cum multiple times before he even gets inside you, just to make sure you're putty in his hands and ready for him.

• does he do anal? Fuck yeah he does. But he's very careful about it and only does it when you say it's ok.

~~~~~

~♡John♡~

• and then there's John.

• he's just a crack baby.

• sorry, John Doe stans. I just couldn't get that much on this guy.

• he's essentially the pet dog of the group. But it's fine, he's into that.

• he's pretty much a feral animal.

• is fueled by energy drinks and Doritos.

• he LOVES when Damon feeds him the special meat he's collected. He gobbles that shit up.

• dude snuggles you like a puppy. He can be cute and sweet when he wants to, don't get me wrong here. Puppies are always sweet and cute.

• hates baths. Y/N has to chain him to the tub in order to bathe him.

• usually stays in his room. He plays Call of Duty with Peter and loves to watch zombie movies. Favorite movie is Cannibal Holocaust and City of the Living Dead. Ruggero Deodato, Lucio Fulci, and George A Romero are his idols.

• Cooking? No idea how. Anything already prepared is perfect for him.

♡NSFW♡

• you into werewolf quality sex? John's your guy.

• expect tons of nail marks and bites all over you once you're done.

• man will make you bleed.

• some nights, the guys will hear you yell "CHILL THE FUCK OUT!!" from your bedroom.

• he will almost eat you alive, he's that feral.

• Does he do anal? Duh.

• favorite position is you up against the wall.

~~~~~

Yandere Quintet Dynamics

Peter & John Doe: Gaming buddies

Jack & Alan: Big bro (Jack), little bro (Alan)

Peter and Damon: Constant dick-measuring (metaphorically, of course) at first, but now partners in crime (oh they'll double-team ya). They like discussing true crime stuff, enough to where they have a podcast.

Damon & John Doe: Man (Damon) using dog (John Doe) to hide evidence.

Jack & Peter: total nerd buddies. Trivia night is horrible with them.

Jack & John Doe: kid being terrified of dogs (Jack), rabid dog (John Doe)

Alan & Peter: another big bro (Peter), little bro (Alan) dynamic.

Alan & John Doe: hunter (Alan) and his hunting dog (John Doe)

Jack & Damon: guy (Damon) is annoyed by the other guy (Jack), but secretly enjoys his company.

Damon & Alan: same deal as Damon and Jack, but Damon will kill anyone trying to hurt or be mean to Alan.

~~~~~

Aaaaand that's all she wrote! Hope you enjoyed this feast!

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redstarwriting · 10 months

Text

i think i’ve seen this film before

hobie brown x fem!reader

request?: yes

request: “Can I request a hobie brown x fem! reader who saves his life but almost dies. Like, she’s super protective over him and one day they’re fighting an anomaly.”

requested by: anon

word count: 2.8k

genre: angst with some fluff

Warnings: language, strangling, mentions of injuries, knives, mentions of stabbing, near-death experiences, murder, death, mentions of stitches, canon event happenings, kraven the hunter (he himself deserves a warning lmao), bruising, cuts, blood

A/N: angst be my favorite lol i hope you enjoy this anon! sorry for the torture hobie and (y/n) go through in this oops ALSO t-swift title bc i enjoy pain

───────────────────────────────────

The minute you came to Spider Society, Hobie became your best friend. Literally, y’all hit it off immediately. The two of you were seemingly inseparable and made the best team out of all of the spiders. He was overly protective of you, and you were overly protective of him. Because of that, it wasn’t surprising to anyone in the slightest when the two of you shared a kiss after a mission. Of course, for the two of you, it was an in the moment thing. Both of you were hurt and needed the other person to be okay and while the two of you were frantically making sure the other was alive and okay Hobie somehow ended up with his lips on yours out of relief you were still here. And then from that moment on you were together all the time romantically on top of being best friends.

Miguel noted this and started to try and send you two on missions without each other, but every time Hobie wouldn’t listen and end up with you anyways. So, he had no choice but to send the two of you together. But he was always worried that one of you wouldn’t be fast enough to save the other. And if that happened… well he’s seen enough Peter’s lose a Gwen to have a guess.

And today his fear nearly came true.

The two of you were on a mission going against a particularly difficult anomaly in his world. Of course, you and Hobie had taken on just as bad before and been fine, so going into it there wasn’t really any concern. But during the fight, things were getting a little hairy. The two of you land on a building to regroup and rethink your methods of attack. “Kravens fucking suck,” you growl, and Hobie nods. “Can always count on the bloody Russian wanker to make shit ‘arder ‘an it should be,” he frowns. “How do all the damn Kravens know how to develop the damn spray to cancel out our senses?” you ask, rolling your shoulder back since he had hit you there earlier after numbing your spider sense. Hobie rubs it without a second thought. “‘ow bad ‘e getcha, love?”

“I’ll be okay. Just pisses me off,” you mumble, and Hobie nods. “Don’t push y’self, (Y/n), it’s not worth it. If Miguel wants to catch ‘is guy so bad ‘e can do it ‘imself,” Hobie says, and you shake your head. “We can do this, just gotta come up with a new strategy.”

“Right, then. We’ll give ‘im hell like we did ‘at one time with Lizard in Miles’ dimension,” he suggests, and you nod. “Sounds like a plan. We can even knock him off the top of the roof of this building. He may be strong but he’s not us.” Hobie nods.

“Stay safe, (Y/n).”

“You too, Hobie.”

With that, the two of you leap off the building, Hobie going directly in front of Kraven and taunting him while you went behind him, getting ready to strike. Unsurprisingly, it worked. The two of you got in quite a few punches, kicks, and hits, but this Kraven just… wasn’t going down. The two of you didn’t know this, but he was actually drugged up on some enhancer from his world, so his durability was even stronger than usual. And getting a few good hits in just pissed him off. The two of you were going in for a similar attack, Hobie going behind him this time to catch him off guard, except that didn’t necessarily happen. Kraven caught him off guard. He turned around, grabbing Hobie by the throat. He gripped Kraven’s hands, trying to get them off, but his strength was too enhanced. Hobie actually felt panicked. He’s been through things like this a lot, but now he had you. And not only that, you were here, with him.

And he’s supposed to be protecting you.

His eyes widen as he feels Kraven tighten his grip, cutting off his airflow completely. Now, he was really panicking. He was desperately trying to pry Kraven’s hands off his throat, but nothing seemed to be working. He subconsciously started glancing around, trying to find you. If he was going to die, he wanted you to be the last thing he saw. Not this overly muscled asshole currently murdering him. He heard him muttering some shit in Russian, but he was too preoccupied with his vision starting to get fuzzy and going black. By this point, bitter tears were falling down his face, and all he could think about was you. He’d stopped fighting as hard at this point, mainly because he literally couldn’t fight any harder than he was, weakly trying to get Kraveen off in any way he could think. But it just wasn’t working. Nothing was working.

That is until Kraven got railed with a semi.

He let go of Hobie, and Hobie gasped for air. He fell to the ground, everything was hazy and he was too dizzy to stand up. He coughed, looking up at where the semi came from, and saw you. Kraven was angrily standing up again, and you were laser-focused on him. You charge at him, getting another good hit to his face. Hobie smirks, trying to stand, but realizes after he stumbles back down to that ground that he is nowhere near that point just yet. So he tries his best to take deep breaths and recover from what he just went through. But that leaves you alone fighting this piece of shit. He doesn’t necessarily like that idea very much. His eyes don’t leave you once. He knows how strong you are, but knowing how strong this anomaly is, worries him. So he calls for backup. Jessica answers, and he speaks. His voice is raspy, almost unrecognizable. “Need ‘elp,” he starts, still staring at you, then he sees something that makes his entire body go numb.

Kraven punches you in the leg, and you suddenly stumble. You fall to the ground, and Kraven makes it a point to punch your other leg. And then both of your arms. Until you can’t move. Hobie’s heart drops as he realizes he’s using his nerve punch against you. He kicks you, hard, punching you in the face this time. Then, he pulls out his bolo knife. Hobie is running before he can even process it, and he learns later on that in his moment Jess heard him scream in a way she’s never heard before. He gets to Kraven and feels a searing pain spread across his chest, but he couldn’t care less about himself in the moment. He reaches out for you, ready to shield you with his body so Kraven can’t cut you again, but before he can grab you, Kraven picks you up by your throat, dangling you off the top of the building. You can’t even fight back, all of your limbs are limp and you just have to endure the choking Hobie went through earlier. Kraven laughs. “Do anything to me, and I drop her.”

“Let ‘er go. Now.”

“Well, if you insist.”

He drops you. He drops you right off of the high rooftop the three of you are on. Hobie screams, but Kraven quickly grabs him, preventing him from saving you. Big mistake on his part. Hobie growls, punching Kraven directly in the face. He doesn’t hold back. Kraven crumples to the ground, and Hobie jumps over the side of the building, trying to get to you as fast as he can. He doesn’t give a fuck about capturing Kraven anymore. You can’t move. You can’t web away from this.

You’re just falling.

You’re happy you have your mask on because you worry that the fear in your eyes would break Hobie. Hobie feels the same about himself as he reaches out for you, but you’re too far away from him. He shoots a web out, connecting to your abdomen as you near the ground, webbing himself against the building so you won’t keep falling. So you’ll be safe. He has to keep you safe.

To Miguel, he’s seen this scene a thousand times. The exact positioning, the panic, the way Spider-Man isn’t rationally thinking in the moment and makes a web mistake that destroys him. Typically, Miguel would stand aside. This is technically a canon event multiple spiders go through. But something in him isn’t accepting the two of you going through the event of losing the other.

Canon event or not, Miguel wasn’t about to let another spider die today.

Jess zooms over on her motorcycle, shooting webs out of her gloves to form a web of cushioning underneath of where you are about to hit the ground while Miguel leaps, shooting a web out to connect to your head to lessen the blow since he can’t get to you in time. Luckily, the web below you mixed with Miguel’s precaution quite literally saved your life. Your head did bounce back a bit, yes, enough to give you whiplash, but you were alive. Albeit very injured, but alive. Hobie leaps down immediately, landing on the web and cradling you in his arms. He rips yours and his mask off, bringing his ear down to your lips to hear you breathing. Then he puts his head on your chest to hear your heartbeat. It’s only then that he can calm down slightly. But then he sees the knife wounds all over your body. He looks into your eyes, seeing tears as he wipes them away. Sometimes he wipes away his own tears that dripped down onto your face. “Love? (Y/n)? Can ya ‘ear me?” he asks, but you just slowly blink at him.

You’re too tired to listen. You can’t really hear anything, but it breaks your heart to see Hobie’s face. The way he’s frantically trying to talk to you. You just don’t have the energy to say anything. He’s moving so much faster than you could even imagine moving right now. You can see Hobie mouthing to stay awake to you, but you can’t hear his voice. You wish you could hear his voice. You love his voice. He gently slaps your cheek, pulling your attention back to him. He looks so sad. He starts getting fuzzy, and you struggle to keep your eyes open. You know he’s telling you to stay awake and you know you probably should, but you’re just so tired. And cold. But Hobie will hold you and make you feel warmer. So, a little nap should be fine.

Your losing consciousness scares the shit out of him. He holds you close to him, crying and mumbling that he’s sorry over and over again. He only stops when Miguel approaches him, telling him they have to get you back to Spider Society so they can take you to medical. “But you have to let go of her…” Hobie shakes his head. “No. No, I’ll carry ‘er,” he says, and his voice sounds more like pleading than anything else. Miguel nods. “You can do that. Let’s go.” Hobie stands as Miguel opens a portal, walking through it and holding you as close to him as he can. He frequently checks your pulse, panicking when he realizes it’s fainter than before. As soon as he steps foot back into Spider Society, you’re taken from him. He just has to watch as they take you away. Jessica is holding him back. “You need medical attention too, Hobie. Come on,” she says, staring at the gnarly gash across his chest. He gets stitches, but the entire time he only asks about you. He’s only thinking about you.

“What happened?” Miguel asks him after he’s all fixed up. Hobie shakes his head. “I wasn’t fast enough,” he whispers. His voice is still raspier than usual and Miguel can clearly see bruising around his neck. “She saved you, didn’t she?”

“…I don’t wanna talk abou’ it.”

“Hobie—”

“Yes. Okay? She did. I’m alive cause she ‘elped me and when I needed to ‘elp her, I couldn’t. I ain’t fast enough,” Hobie snaps, and Miguel frowns. “Hobie. This is the job. She’s okay now, but—”

“I don’t give a fuck if it’s the fuckin’ job, Miguel! She got hurt on my watch!… This is my fault…”

“No. It isn’t, it’s that Kraven’s… though I don’t think we’ll need to worry about him anytime soon,” Miguel says, and Hobie glances at him. “Why?”

“You forgot to pack your punches in your panic,” Miguel sighs, and Hobie nods. “Fuckin’ good. Bloody bellend deserved it.”

Miguel shakes his head. “You should be able to go see her now. We needed to stitch her up and give her some blood transfusions so she’ll probably be a little… drowsy if she’s even awake. But you can see her.” Hobie immediately stands. “Where is she?”

Miguel walks him to your room, motioning to Hobie that he can go inside. Hobie walks inside the hospital room and rushes to your bedside. He grabs your hand, rubbing it with his thumb. You’re asleep, and he doesn’t even want to try and wake you up. But he can’t help but notice all the bruises and stitches all over your body. He can’t stop staring at your injuries, but the one that really sticks out is the bruising around your neck. He had the same, but he would have gone through it twenty times if it meant you didn’t have to. He’s crying again, but he doesn’t even make an effort to wipe the tears away. He just keeps staring at the injuries he couldn’t prevent. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

His head snaps to your face. Your voice is as hoarse as his, yet you’re still looking at him with a tiny smile. “’ow d’ya feel?” he asks, quietly. You sigh. “Bad. Head hurts really bad. Body’s sore. But it’s nothing I can’t handle,” you say, and he nods, looking away from you slightly as a new wave of tears comes over him. You bring your other hand up to his face, wiping some of his tears away. “Don’t cry, Hobie, I’m okay,” you say, and he shakes his head no. “You’re not okay. You’re ‘urt. I couldn’t ‘elp you…” he whispers, and you frown. “No. I should have helped you sooner.”

“Don’t you say ‘at.”

“Then don’t you say bad things about yourself,” you say, and he just looks down. “Hobie… look at me.” He raises his head, looking at your face. “I’m alive, okay?”

“But you almost—”

“Who cares what ‘almost happened.’ It didn’t happen, yeah? I’m here, breathing, talking to you,” you urge, and he shakes his head. “I care. Always gonna care, love,” he whispers, placing his hand on yours on his face, holding it there. You rub his cheek with your thumb, and he lets out a shaky breath. “I killed ‘im, y’know?”

“I’m so surprised,” you say sarcastically, and a ghost of a smile graces his face. But it disappears as fast as it came. “Really, though. ‘m sorry, (Y/n). This shouldn’ta ‘appened to ya,” he mumbles. You shake your head. “It’s okay, Hobie. You did your best,” you say, and he sighs. “Ya sound tired.”

“I am… apparently getting stabbed and cut multiple times makes you lose a lot of blood. Who would have thought, right?” you joke, and Hobie shakes his head. “Go to sleep, love.”

“Only if you join me.”

“Ya stable enough for ‘at?” he asks, hesitating just because of your recovery process. “I’ll be a lot less stable if I don’t get to hold you, Hobart,” you say, and he shakes his head. “I’m rubbin’ off on ya too much.”

“Impossible.” You scoot over, and he lays down. You wrap your arms around him as he places his head on your chest. Hearing your heartbeat is soothing to him right now. He gently wraps his arm around your waist, careful not to agitate your wounds. You rub his arm for a few moments before falling asleep. Now that he knows you’re okay(ish) and that you’re alive, he suddenly feels very tired. Maybe it’s just the lull of your heartbeat, but he falls asleep shortly after you.

Jess and Miguel look inside the room. “You interfered with a canon event,” Jess says, and Miguel shrugs. “I don’t like when spiders die.”

“Sure. That’s the only reason,” Jess mutters, softly smiling at the two of you. It was cute how in love the two of you were, even after a near-death experience on both ends. Peter B. Parker appears behind them, looking into the room and covering Mayday’s eyes. “Oh, shit— I mean shoot. Don’t tell your mom. What did I miss, you guys?”

───────────────────────────────────

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #spiderpunk x reader #spiderverse x reader #hobie brown #spiderpunk #spiderverse #atsv

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likedovesinthewindd · 11 months

Note

Request for reader taking Rues place in s1 ep2 when mouse pays a visit to Fez

ofc, hope you like!

fezco x fem!reader (season one ep 02: stuntin' like my daddy)

warning: drug use/abuse, coercion, violence, swearing, slight sexual language, mentions of overdosing, after effects of naloxone (narcan) and fentanyl like nausea, urinary retention, drowsiness.

wc: ±2465

a/n: requests welcome!

gif not mine, all credit to original creator.

The only time you'd ever really see Fez at a party was if he was dealing. He wasn't one who really enjoyed going out or being around a lot of people, but parties were one of the fastest ways to sell his shit, and a guy's gotta eat. On the days he had all to himself, he'd often be at home doing nothing.

The only thing he enjoyed more than relaxing at home, was relaxing at home with you. You seemed to have that effect on him; he enjoyed doing things more when you were around. He'd take you shopping because he knew you'd buy actual food and not just any random stuff with no nutritional value. He'd take you with him on random night drives through the city because you had the best playlists to listen to and he wouldn't admit it, but he secretly loved listening to the different genres of music you enjoyed. He always enjoyed having your presence around the house, and around him.

Right now, however, he really really wished you had stayed home. Not that he didn't want to see you, but he was about 5 minutes away from doing business with one of his suppliers (not one of the nicests guys either), and he didn't want to anywhere near when they arrived.

"Hold on, you can't be in here right now," he drawled nervously when he saw your wet frame enter the living room. "I just came to make you guys dinner, got everything for your favorites," you smiled as you made your way inside, placing the groceries you had bought on the kitchen table. You toed off your shoes and made your way to Fez's room. "Nah, you gotta go Y/N," he said following after you.

"Why, am I not welcome anymore?" you joked, looking through his drawers for dry clothes. You settled for a pair of old sweatpants and a t-shirt you had forgotten there, and swiftly changed.

"I'm serious, come back in a few hours but right now you gotta get the fuck up outta my house," he said seriously. You frowned at his words. Was he seriously going to kick you out in the middle of a rainstorm? "It's fucking pouring outside, Fez. I can just—"

"Nah you ain't listening, you gotta go right now before these motherfuckers come through," he interrupted you. By now you had grown irritated by his behavior. "Who are you talking about?" you asked angrily, walking past him to go sit on the couch in the living room. "My guy's boutta come through and I don't want you here when he gets here, you understand?" he said following you. Right. His guy, as in his supplier. You were on the verge of asking him what the big deal was if you just stayed out of their way for the few minutes, when his phone buzzed from the table he was previously sitting at.

You peered behind the back of the couch towards the table and then back at him. He did the same, and when your eyes met, you could see the anger mixed with fear on his face. "I could fuckin' kill you right now," he muttered before reaching for his walkie talkie. "Yo Ash, they here," he spoke into it before he started packing stacks of money into a paper bag.

By now you had grown a bit nervous at what was about to go down. Fez never allowed you to join him when he was doing any of his deals. He wanted to keep you as far away as possible from that side of his life, and right now you were about to meet one of his suppliers.

He walked over to the couch were you still sat frozen in fear, pushing his hands between the two cushions and pulling out a gun, checking to see if it was loaded. Your eyes widened before meeting his. "Look I'm serious Y/N," he said quietly, "just stay right there, keep your mouth shut and be cool. These dudes ain't fuckin' around." You could only nod in response, watching closely as he placed the gun back between the cushions.

☆☆☆☆

To say the big bald guy with the face tattoos currently standing behind you was scary, would be one hell of an understatement.

"So this your little bitch?" you heard him ask. You didn't dare turn around, nervously clasping your hands together in your lap to stop them from shaking too visibly. "Nah bruh, that's my girl," Fez subtly corrected him as the guy made his way around the back of the couch. He kneeled infront of the couch and extended his hand in greeting. "Well hello there," he said. You nervously unclasped your hands and placed one in his, which he took and kissed softly. You wanted to retract your hand from the feeling of his cold, dry lips on your skin, but you had no idea if that could potentially piss him off, and you didn't want to find out what he'd do if he got mad.

"My name is Mouse, it's a pleasure to meet you," he said. How ironic you thought, but you couldn't find anything humorous in the way his stare sent chills down your spine. When he walked away you looked over to Fez again, who was sitting right across from you. He gave you a small nod as you tried your best to calm down your racing heart.

Mouse started unpacking and naming all the diffrent drugs he had available. You tried not to look as shocked as you felt, but truth was you weren't used to all of it. Yeah your boyfriend was a drug dealer, but you didn't do drugs, and he's made it his life's mission to keep it that way You turned around and caught a glimpse of all the different bottles and pills all packed in big plastic zip lock bags.

"7750," Mouse's lackey Custer said as he finished calculating the price of everything at a quite impressive speed. Fez quickly got the paper bag with the money, throwing it to Mouse, who threw it to Custer. "Sure you don't want no Fentanyl?" he asked. "Nah man I'm cool off that shit. Too many OD's, man. I don't want the heat," Fez said calmly.

Mouse turned around to where you sat. "How about you pretty girl," he asked, "you ever tried Fentanyl?"

"No," you said quietly, still looking down at your lap. "Nah, she's good bro," Fez said as Mouse took a seat next to you on the couch and placing his arm behind you on the back of it. He used his outstretched hand to play with the loose strands of your hair. "You gonna let your boy talk for you?" he asked with a smile. You looked over at Fez, not knowing of you should answer him or not. "I don't know—"

"Don't look at him, look at me." You felt as though you might burst into flames if you did look at him. You turned your head slightly towards him, and you were met with a smile that made your stomach churn nervously. "You ever tried it?" he asked again.

"Yo forreal bruh, I don't want her fuckin' wit that shit," Fez said through a clenched jaw. You could hear the irritation and anger in his voice. Whether it was aimed at you for being here right now or at Mouse talking to you, you didn't know.

Mouse ignored Fez's talking, moving closer to you until his mouth was at your ear. "You know that feeling when you cum so hard you can't feel or hear shit?" he asked. You frowned, turning your face away from him and looking down at your lap once again. You didn't want to answer him, you didn't want to be talking to him anymore. "You like that feeling?" he added. You couldn't do anything but nod dumbly, afraid of what he might do if you ignored him.

"Well shit, you gon' love this."

Soon he was reaching for his pockets, pulling out a knife and a pouch of liquid Fentanyl, placing a small amount of the substance on the tip of the blade. He bought it closer to your face, and before you could think you were instinctively shaking your head and moving your head away from the knife.

"I don't— I don't think I should," you said softly. "What, you don't trust me?" he asked. "Yo for real man, she's good," Fez said desperately trying to diffuse the situation. He was praying that you didn't come close to that blade, he didn't want you using that shit at all. "Shut the fuck up bitch," Mouse said, still looking at you, "ain't nobody talkin' to you."

"Tell your boy I ain't talking to him right now. Tell him to shut the fuck up," he said to you. You looked over at Fez, the tears already burning behind your eyes. "C'mon don't be scared. It won't bite you." His voice bought your attention back to the blade that was still infront of your face.

"C'mon, try it."

Fez was shaking his head at you, praying that you weren't stupid enough to take up his offer. You were shaking like a leaf. You didn't know what to do, you just wanted to get out of this situation as fast as possible.

Without a second thought you placed your mouth on the tip of the knife and licked the substance off. Please don't let me die the words replayed in your head over and over and over as you felt yourself slowly and quietly slip into a diffrent state. After a while you couldn't even sit up straight anymore, and you found yourself softly falling on the couch cushion. Please don't let me die please don't let me die please don't let me die please—

"It hits quick," you heard Mouse's voice faintly as you tried desperately to hold onto some form of lucidity. Fez was watching you closely, trying to see if you were still conscious. "You like the way that feels?" he asked placing your leg over his lap. "Mhm," you managed to get out through lips that felt as heavy as concrete. "You wanna couple of patches pretty girl?" he asked and you replied with what you hoped was a yes. He got the patches from his jacket pocket and placed them beneath the waistband of your sweatpants.

"Its gon' cost you three hundred," he said to you, but looking over at Fez, "C'mon, pay up pretty girl."

"I only have like, seven dollars on me," you said, slurring your words like a drunk. "I said three hundred," Mouse repeated running his fingertips along your leg. "I bought like, groceries and shit." You could feel the drool running out your mouth and down your cheek, but it felt like your body was nailed to the couch. You felt so relaxed, so good and fuzzy that you couldn't even be bothered by the drool.

"Yo Mouse, lemme pay for it man," Fez spoke up. "I thought you was too good for Fentanyl" Mouse said with a taunting smile. "What is it, everybody changing they motherfuckin' minds on me?" he asked turning to Custer who sat on the back edge of the couch laughing.

"She can't afford it, she gon' have to find another way of paying me. Straight up," he said, now rubbing along your leg. "Ok," you replied, thinking he was still talking to you. Fez wanted nothing more than to pull out the gun from between the two cushions and shoot Mouse right there and then. He could feel himself getting angrier with every stroke of Mouse's hand along your clothed leg.

"Yo man, jus' lemme pay for it. Got the money right here."

Fez stood up from the couch, and placed three hundreds in Mouse's hand. "Damn, your boy must love you. Its gon cost you six hundred now, man."

☆☆☆☆

After Fez gave Mouse his extra money he counted the bills before standing up to leave. "It's always a pleasure doing business with you," he smiled, pushing your leg from his lap and getting up from the couch. As soon as the door closed behind him, Fez stood up, taking the Fentanyl Mouse had left on the couch and calling Ash. "Flush that shit down the toilet, and go grab the Narcan, just in case," he said placing the pouch in Ash's hand.

He went over to the couch were you were still laying quietly and motionless, your one leg still hanging off the couch. He carefully pulled it back up the couch, maneuvering it to prevent you from rolling onto your stomach, and covered your body with the small blanket that layed by the couch's end. He sat by your head on the couch, softly stroking your hair and praying that you were okay. Your eyes fluttered open when you felt his soft touch on your head. "'M sorry," you slurred, trying to keep your eyes open, to stay awake. Your breathing was irregular and soft, and you felt a dull discomfort in your chest.

"It's ok," he said softly, wiping away the layer of sweat from your forhead. "I ain't leaving you."

When Ash returned with the Narcan you were quickly given some in each nostril and after a while your breathing returned to a somewhat normal tempo. You couldn't fight the urge to sleep anymore and soon you were closing your eyes and dozing off.

☆☆☆☆

You layed in bed next to Fez feeling like absolute shit. You couldn't fall asleep. The dull pressure in your bladder and the constant nausea made it impossible to get comfortable. You turned around slowly, to find Fez laying next to you, his eyes trained on you. He hadn't left your side since your little run-in with Mouse, and had you stay with him until you felt better. He even went as far as to ask one of your friend to bring you clean clothes from your house.

"How you feelin'?" he asked, voice thick from sleep. You only shook your head no, you couldn't even find the strength to talk. "You want some' to eat?" he asked softly. The mention of food made your stomach churn uncomfortably and before you knew it you were jumping out of bed and making a beeline for the bathroom for what felt like the millionth time.

You felt Fez's hand rubbing circles into your back softly as you threw up once again. "Let it all out, baby," you heard him say softly. He knew you hated throwing up, and he hated seeing you ill, so he tried his best to give you any sort of comfort.

After you finished you flushed the toilet and wiped your mouth. The cold tiles beneath your knees and the warm press of Fez's hand against your even warmer body grounded you. "I'm sorry for taking that shit," you said through quiet sobs. You hadn't even noticed you'd been crying. "Is alright," Fez said softly. He hated seeing you cry more than anything. "You'll be alright, okay?" he said, pulling you into a hug, "I ain't going no where. Gonna look after my girl."

#fezco euphoria #fezco fanfic #fezco x you #fezco x reader #fezco fic #fezco x y/n #fezco #fez euphoria #fez x reader #fez x y/n #fez fanfic #likedovesinthewindd

833 notes · View notes

starrysvn · 11 months

Text

place in me | jung wooyoung

pairing: chef!wooyoung x chef!gn reader

genre: angst, slow burn, fluff, ex2l

word count: 17k

warnings: angsty af, kinda toxic workplace, food, drinking, i know jackshit about cooking apart from hell's kitchen, masterchef and google searches, one (1) sex joke, reader is kinda dumb.

a/n: this has been in the works since march. i gotta stop procrastinating. anyhoww, i cited "m. butterfly" by david henry hwang and reworked one of my favorite quotes ever from "jane eyre" by charlotte brontë bc i luv her. hope u guys enjoy it <3

networks: @cromernet 🫶🏻

playlist: beside you by 5sos, finally // beautiful stranger by halsey, sparks fly by taylor swift, sorry by halsey, back to december by taylor swift, right where you left me by taylor swift, the winner takes it all by abba, haunted by taylor swift, amnesia by 5sos, place in me by luke hemmings

masterlist | navi

During quiet nights you worked best. It had always been that way ever since you were a student and you didn’t think things would change. Not when the kitchen was completely silent except for the slow rumbling of whatever you had on the stove and the swift swish of your chopping knife against the cutting board. You loved listening to music while cooking, but on nights like these, you preferred the muffled sounds of the city coming in from the cracked open window and the occasional humming that left your mouth.

It was peaceful enough to remember why you loved cooking so much. Not that you ever forgot but, lately, it was hard to find joy in your job. The hustle and bustle of the kitchen kept you busy enough to render your work almost mechanical, punctuated by the quick rhythm of orders coming in. All the loud noises around you sent you into a frenzy more often than not.

It was on nights like these - in the kitchen of your own apartment, off duty for the evening - immersed in the mellow atmosphere you created, that you wondered if it had all been worth it. The studying, the getting yelled at, Paris… If it had all brought you to this - working in a Michelin star restaurant you had only ever dreamed of setting foot in - but could never get you anywhere past it. If this was your final dream, your last ambition, then why did it all feel so heavy?

It was a question you could never answer. You took great pride in your work and in yourself for getting you where you were. You liked some of your fellow chefs, and the reaction your answer got out of people when they asked you where you worked. It lit a match in you, it felt like a pat on the shoulder to your younger self. But when you got home exhausted and so not ready to face it all again the next morning, doubt clung heavily to your mind.

You turned off the burner with a sour taste in your mouth you knew only your cooking could melt away. Sat down in front of your gamjatang, you took a big breath before diving in. You had avoided the dish like the plague ever since then, but somehow tonight your hands moved for you when reaching for the ingredients. The circumstances couldn’t have been more different than when you last cooked it; you weren’t hungover, it wasn’t four in the morning, and you weren’t halfway across the world with him.

A memory pushed and shoved to come to the forefront of your mind, one about warmth and love and understanding all washing over you in the tiny kitchenette of a Paris apartment where, with him, you tipsily laughed and slow danced to the music of your hearts beating at the same time.

It wasn’t surprising that it just didn’t taste the same. Recipe and execution-wise it was perfect, you couldn’t count the amount of times you cooked the soup. But it tasted off, somehow. And right now you didn’t have the mental capacity to analyze why. So you just ate in silence, a slight frown on your lips with every spoonful, grateful you only had to load the washing machine before going to bed, disappointed your peaceful night of cooking had been ruined.

–

“What’s got your panties in a twist today?”

Park Seonghwa was your favorite coworker. You two started working at Hwang’s at the same time and bonded pretty quickly. He was quiet and focused, a perfectionist when it came to his job and never really contributed to the migraine-inducing bustling crowd of chefs around you. He also would never dare to speak like this when you both were in earshot of the sous chef. You sighed. Apparently, you had woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning and proceeded to grill your junior chef Jongho with more bite than usual.

“Please don’t say that when Seo’s so close to us,” you flashed him a warning look which was met with a mischievous smirk.

“We all know you’re aiming for his spot, with the scolding you just did he can only be proud,” the sous chef in your kitchen had the reputation of being even worse than head chef Lee, truly the bane of everyone’s existence. You didn’t want to be like him.

“Oh, lord,” you shook your head, slowing down your chopping the slightest bit. You’d woken up with a headache after a fitful night of sleep, already frustrated with the world before even facing it. Missing the bus and clocking in late didn’t help either, not when you were greeted with a murderous glare from the head chef. You didn’t mean to be snappy with your junior, but things had inevitably piled up.

“I don’t even know if I want the position anymore,” you grunted under your breath, earning a soft giggle from Seonghwa.

“Careful saying that out loud, or the vultures will try even harder to take you down,” he knew better than to bump his shoulder with yours, lest he interrupted your furious chopping and ended up being the reason you lost a finger, but did it anyway. The sweet gesture comforted you, surprisingly you didn’t feel the urge to bite his head off.

“Let them,” you meant the words to sound a little less disheartened than they did, but all of last night’s thinking had seemingly gotten to you. Seonghwa gave you a confused look but could say little before being interrupted.

“Executive Chef Kim needs to speak to you,” the eyes of the whole kitchen were on you as a sort of stillness descended upon everyone. Even Seonghwa beside you looked surprised, even if less than everyone else. You knew in his head he was probably cooking up some joke about you being the next tyrant sous.

There were two ways this encounter could go: either fire you or promote you. A conviction that grew stronger when you entered the still-empty restaurant and sat at a table were not only the executive chef, but also the owner and manager, waiting for you. Why would they do this hours before opening?

“Thank you for joining us,” manager Na said as soon as you sat down in front of them. “As you may be aware, chef Kim and chef Lee have had their eyes on you as a possible candidate to replace chef Seo once he retires.” Her piercing eyes stared deep into your soul. You nodded, almost afraid to speak, wondering why in the world you chose to work for such intimidating people.

“I’m afraid you will not be taking that spot.”

A low blow. Somehow, even when you were neither too hopeful nor too enthusiastic about becoming sous chef, the rejection still hurt. It still sent a jolt of disappointment and self-doubt shooting through you. Were you not doing a good job? Were you not up to their standards?

“However,” you looked up again, your eyes now on executive chef Kim. “Mr. Hwang is opening up another restaurant.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” you mumbled, wheels slowly turning in your head. Manager Na smiled knowingly.

“I would like to give you the opportunity to become head chef in my new restaurant,” Mr. Hwang said. “I’m told by chef Kim and chef Lee that you would fit the position better than the one of sous chef. I trust their judgment.”

It took all you had not to let your jaw hang in front of them. Head chef? Had they lost their minds? Never had your mind taken the decision for you before you could even rationalize your thoughts.

“Could I think about it?”

“Time ticks fast here, you know that chef Y/L/N,” Manager Na’s intimidating eyes were on you again. “We’d like to have an answer in two days at most.”

With a curt nod, they dismissed you. You didn’t think you had ever made a beeline for the bathroom so fast in your entire life. Surely, you couldn’t go back into the kitchen looking like your cat just died. Everybody would know something was wrong, they would know that the position as sous was still free and you had been shot down. And there was little they could do better than kicking a man when he was down.

So you sat in the cubicle, trying to calm your shaking hands and regain composure. Act like nothing happened. Betray no emotion. Go back to dicing potatoes exactly one centimeter by one centimeter. Not a millimeter more, not one less.

Assholes. All of them. They couldn’t have chosen a better moment to tell you this than the most hectic night of the week. And now you’d have to work through it. Through the eyes trailed on you, holding questions and spite and jealousy. Through chef Lee’s and chef Seo’s yelled reprimanding, making sure everything was just perfect for the critic coming in.

Just one more night.

Never had you held on so tightly to such meager consolation.

–

“You look like you need a beer.”

Seonghwa’s voice broke the silence of the back alley. After closing, you decided to stick around instead of fleeing home like you usually would. It had been a while since the last time you sat outside the back entrance of the kitchen, alone with your thoughts after hours of noise.

“I need vodka,” you voiced, not looking up as he took a spot beside you.

“That’s stooping so low, what’s wrong?”

You knew the question would come. Somehow he had not asked anything when you entered the kitchen again with a blank face. A murmur had slithered past as you took your place and started working again. But Seonghwa had just shot you a look, resuming his work as well.

“They want to make me head chef at Hwang’s new restaurant.”

“But that’s great!” He was looking at you with those big, wide, excited eyes of his and a genuine smile on his lips. One would think the offer was made to him. You were almost sorry you had to wipe that happiness away.

“I don’t know if I want that…”

“What do you mean?” He looked puzzled, but not surprised. You sighed. How did you explain this without sounding crazy?

“I mean… I-” you grunted, hands in your hair. “When’s the last time you felt like cooking?”

Seonghwa stared back with a slight frown in his brow, eyes bouncing around your face in an effort to understand.

“Like, really cooking. Without walking into the kitchen and wanting to throw up, or dreading opening time and all the yelling. I know it’s how it is when you work for such big names but fuck. Everything’s too fast and I… it feels like I don’t care anymore, Hwa. They took my passion and stomped all over it.”

“Didn’t you want to be a high end, gourmet restaurant chef?”

You stared, mouth hanging open. Of course, you did. It was your biggest dream, your one ambition. It was excruciating that all the pressure was making you break, making you think that you weren’t cut out for this and you had wasted your time.

“I did, I do.”

“But?”

“But this isn’t it. This feels like a survival show, where everyone’s out for blood. I understand competitiveness, but I can hardly breathe when we start cooking. Chef Seo is a literal nightmare and I don’t think I can do it anymore in a place like this.”

“I see…”

“You think I lost my mind,” you let your head tilt back, eyes on the starless night sky.

“Maybe you did,” Seonghwa said. “That doesn’t mean you’re wrong.”

“I’ll be honest, I never thought I’d hear you like this,” he continued. “You hold such pride for what you do and how you do it. I think Seo might yell at you just because he’s irritated he’s got nothing on you. Half of the people hate you for how well you manage.”

“Gee, thanks,” you scoffed.

“My point is,” he bumped his shoulder with yours. “That it’s indicative of how much this place fucking sucks if they got you breaking. A Michelin kitchen, or any kitchen for that matter, shouldn’t burn out their best chefs.”

“Jongho is so brave for junioring here,” you deflected, allowing his words to soothe your burning wounds.

“Hey, we did that too!”

“Yeah, and look at where it got us,” you giggled, smiling for the first time tonight. Seonghwa huffed out a laugh.

A beat of silence passed. You were glad for Seonghwa. Even though you often joked he was just your favorite coworker, you considered him a dear friend. One of your only friends for the matter.

“What are you gonna do?”

“I’ll quit,” you heard his surprised gasp and chuckled. “And I’ll refuse the position. I know head chef sounds better but I know them. Manager Na and Mr. Hwang will only hire straight up assholes and I’d have to deal with it, and not even as executive chef.”

“We’re not assholes!” his hand sat on his chest in mock offense, you giggled.

“We look like assholes and do our job quietly and damn near perfectly, that’s why we’re here.”

Mumbling something along the lines of I guess so, Seonghwa accepted the heavy truth. In the quiet alley, sitting with your friend, you felt okay. The murmur of the busy city filled your heart as you quietly giggled and remembered your first days working at Hwang’s. Goodbyes were always hard on you, but not this time. You expected gut-wrenching pain and tears and the heavy burden of failure on your shoulders as you accepted your decision. But none of it manifested, not when Seonghwa had snuck one of the most expensive bottles of wine out of the kitchen and launched himself in a perfect rendition of Chef Seo’s latest meltdown. Maybe taking a step back didn’t mean failing, something you never would’ve believed mere months ago.

The sound of freedom equated to the one of your blaring alarms each morning. It had been two weeks since you had quit your job, but you still refused to get a good night’s sleep. Well, except the night you told Seonghwa and you ended up drunk off your faces.

You rolled over, turning off the annoying alarm, ready to start another day of not knowing what to do. There were few things you enjoyed doing, apart from cooking, when all you were left with was free time and silence. It was nice getting out of the house in the early spring morning to buy groceries, go for walks, and swing by your friend’s flower shop, but it got old quickly. Mostly, you didn’t like how sometimes, while cooking, memories you tried to never think of seemed to resurface on their own.

When you finally got to the kitchen and there was nothing but eggs in the fridge – it was shopping day – you settled on an omelette for breakfast. Only, halfway through cooking, your mind wandered back there.

When Chef Berrien asked you to make an omelette you wanted to laugh. You didn’t though, not when you saw the serious frown he was sporting. He was being serious? The absurdity of the situation made you question if dropping everything you had back at home just to fly to Paris to master your craft had been worth it. Maybe your mother was right, maybe you were crazy.

“Omelettes are the easiest thing to spoil,” he stood resolutely in front of you all. “Only good chefs make good omelettes.”

Oh god, your mother was right.

“Good luck,” a smug voice sounded from beside you.

If there was someone who could push you over the edge Chef Berrien shoved you to, it was Jung Wooyoung. In just two weeks of sharing your working station with him, you discovered that his bubbly personality clashed with your silent brooding. You preferred to work in silence and, apparently, he thrived in chaos.

“You too,” you grumbled, getting your few ingredients ready. How in the world were you supposed to prove your worth with a fucking omelette? You closed your eyes and sighed, getting to work.

“That definitely looks… simple,” Wooyoung mumbled as Berrien walked through the cooking stations, pulling faces at every dish. You looked down at yours - a plain, french omelette - then at his - all prettily plated and definitely cheese filled - and bit your tongue.

“He asked for an omelette, not a Michelin star worthy breakfast,” you hastily whispered, wishing he would just shut up for once.

“Aren’t we training to be Michelin star worthy chefs?” came his rebuttal, getting on your last nerve with that pretty smirk of his.

Pretty?

You scoffed and shook your head, straightening your back and clearing your throat as Berrien came close to your station. When the chef’s eyes landed on your omelette, a slight frown pulled his lips downwards. As he walked away, you did your best to ignore Wooyoung’s silent snicker and the burning in your cheeks. After the evaluation, you kept quiet for the rest of the day.

It sometimes happened that you would close off to the rest of the world, and focused only on what you were thinking and the task at hand. Most often when you were cooking, which both helped and hindered your work. As much as you needed to focus on what you were doing, you also needed to listen to orders while doing it. You hoped to get better at managing it, it was why you were here, after all. Though, for now, after a full day surrounded by people, you were happy sitting alone with your back resting against the backdoor to the kitchen.

“Is the silent treatment payback for beating you today?”

The door flew open, making you lose balance for a second, then came his question.

“You didn’t beat me, Wooyoung, this is not a competition,” you sighed, keeping your eyes set on the wall in front of you rather than on his figure sitting down beside you.

“Sounds like something a sore loser would say,” he bumped his shoulder with yours, no doubt with a shit-eating grin on his lips. That did it.

“Just because your omelette got a nod and mine got a frown, it doesn’t mean yours was better!” You all but exploded, finally looking at him. Indeed, he was wearing a smug grin.

“Well, Chef Berrien would disagree,” you scoffed as he looked at you with shiny, distracting, eyes. Was it the light from the lamppost reflected in them or had the lack of sleep finally got to your brain? You shook your head, ridding yourself of the thought.

“Fuck you too, I guess,” you finally said, turning back around, earning a laugh from him.

You didn’t want to stop and think about why his laugh pulled a snicker out of you, making you feel so light and at ease.

“Does this mean you’ll go back to talking to me then?” He asked, sounding a little small. “You’re not mad?”

Something pulled at your heartstrings, hearing him ask something like that. Did he really think you were mad at him? You probably looked like an asshole for the rest of the day after Berrien barely passed your omelette.

“I’m not,” you said much faster than you anticipated. “I never was.”

“That’s good,” he smiled, and you weren’t sure you liked the warmth that blossomed in your chest.

You avoided thinking of your training in Paris with all your might, and he was the reason why. But it seemed that now that your whole world had turned upside down, your brain could do nothing but. Add that to the list of things you hated about unemployment. A funny smell pulled you from your thoughts, eyes focusing back on the almost burned omelette in front of you. Mumbling curses under your breath, you turned off the heat and plated it. This was why you never let your thoughts take over.

You ate your spoiled breakfast in silence, deciding to get started with your day and your grocery shopping, mentally listing all the food you’d need. Anything, really, at this point to keep your mind occupied with something that wasn’t him.

It was still hard for you to wrap your head around what Jung Wooyoung meant to you. Or rather, you knew perfectly well and tried to avoid it like the plague. He was a closed chapter you didn’t want to revisit simply because it hurt. Because there was a point in time where he meant the whole world to you, where he was your whole world, and you decided to burn it all down only to choke on the ashes of what it used to be.

You left wondering if he was still writing pages or considered the story closed and done as you did. Like you had to not to drown in guilt.

While walking down the street, warm sunlight caressing your face, you asked yourself why it was all coming back to you now. A hollow of confusion had opened up in your chest, and of its own volition your heart chose to fill it with such memories. When Wooyoung came into your life, he did so by taking it by storm; randomly, upsetting all you had ever known, and maybe at the wrong time. That didn’t mean he didn’t leave a sign, a permanent one, on your heart. And now that you were crawling in confusion, he was barging in once more.

Wooyoung was late. It was teamwork evaluation day and your project partner was nowhere to be seen. Chef Berrien had sent daggers flying your way upon seeing the empty side of your workstation, not waiting a second longer to start the class. You wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole and also to strangle Wooyoung on sight. There must’ve been a logical reason why he still hadn’t shown up when you were supposed to finish your three-day project. If the fucker left you alone to finish cooking lièvre à la royale, you were seriously going to give him the scolding of a lifetime.

Anxiety started to claw at your stomach, twisting it in knots and tugging at them in a way that made it harder to breathe. Under the chef’s pointed gaze you could only stay as still as possible, hoping he’d prolong his very unsubtle speech about tardiness until Wooyoung got here, praying he would, and yet cursing him in your head.

He still hadn’t shown up when he gave the class permission to start working. You sighed in frustration, walking to the fridge to retrieve the hare you’d cooked the day before with trembling hands. Back at your station, you realized that working while checking the door every three seconds would get you nowhere, and you weren’t about to fail the assignment even if half of your team was missing.

When the meat was finally cleaned of the jellied liquid it had sat in overnight, and you were preparing to cut it into exactly eighty grams slices - not one more, not one less, Berrien's voice sounded in your head - the door to the kitchen burst open.

In came a panting Wooyoung, his white chef jacket buttoned up a little crooked, who tried to make his way to your station unseen. It didn’t work.

“Jung,” Berrien’s voice resonated in the hot hair of the kitchen, making everyone stop working for a beat. Too bad no one had time to spare. You started slicing. “I don’t appreciate tardiness.”

“I’m very sorry, Chef-” he held his hand up next to his face, shutting up your partner.

“You may start cooking,” you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding the whole time, shoulders almost sagging in relief. “But don’t think I won’t keep this in mind during evaluation.”

The frustration you’d tried to keep at bay so far flared up once more, and your grip on the knife tightened. Wooyoung silently made his way next to you, washing his hands carefully and using the time to assess how far you’d gotten into the process. You didn’t utter a single word, fuming quietly as you focused on your task and he picked up on his.

You couldn’t afford to lose time bickering now, and for the first time in a while, you cooked in complete silence, the air around you tense and devoid of the usual jokes he would throw around to lift your spirits. No banter, just instructions and cooking for the next five hours.

Despite everything, Chef Berrien couldn’t hide how pleased he was with your dish, which didn’t end up at the top of the class only because of Wooyoung’s mishap. As soon as the chef dismissed you, you fled the kitchen.

“Wait!” Wooyoung’s voice called after you, who were already outside and determined to escape to your apartment to avoid cussing him out in front of your fellow chefs, who had already thrown confused glances at you the whole day.

“Hey, hold up!” He caught you by the wrist, spinning you around. If he wanted to do this here, who were you to deny him?

“What.” Wooyoung almost flinched at the harshness of your voice.

“I’m sorry I was late, I really am, I just-”

“Save it,” you cut him off. “Day’s over, damage is done, and we ended up with an alright grade. I don’t want to fight.”

It was true. For how mad you’d been, you didn’t want to make it worse. You could tell he was sorry by the way he’d cooked in silence, waltzing around you as if you were a bomb ready to go off at any minute. It had taken all your strength not to. You made to turn around and walk away, but he was determined to make you listen to what he had to say.

“Can you come with me?” He sounded defeated despite the determination in his eyes. All you really wanted was to go home, wash up and rot in bed. You were tired, physically and mentally drained by the day. But your friend – because how could you deny that Wooyoung had become more than a simple classmate in the last month? He’d quietly snuck up on you, surprising you with his cheerful smile and awful jokes, and slowly but steadily carved his own spot into your heart, now beating to the rhythm of his screechy laughter and kind words – was pleading you with his brown, burning eyes and how could you say no?

Sighing in defeat, you nodded, readjusting the strap of your backpack on your shoulder and watching as his frown turned into a soft smile. Wooyoung took your hand in his, going back into the building, and guided you up the stairs. Transfixed, you stared at your hands; his felt slightly rough from all the cooking but still soft. You ignored the warmth the simple gesture sparked in your heart and followed quietly; you could only hope he wouldn’t get the two of you expelled.

Finally, you got to the last flight of stairs, legs burning and chest heaving. You hoped he had a good reason to be dragging you up six flights of stairs and potentially getting you in trouble for trespassing. He ushered you to the small balcony, apparently mostly used for storage, and nodded to a shaky ladder perched onto its wall, leading to the roof. You often did this at your apartment too, the one perk of living on the last floor, but suddenly your mouth went dry.

“How did you even have the time to find out about this-'' you climbed the small way up, thanking your lucky star that the building at least had a flatter roof compared to yours. But the words died in your mouth when you finally got your bearings and looked around.

Wooyoung emerged as well, now leaning against one of the chimneys. You sat down, amazed at the view all around you; as the sun set in the West, tinging the bluish sky with hues of warm orange and golden light, you spotted the Sacre Coeur sitting North and the Eiffel Tower immersed in a pink blush down South. A light breeze passed by, blowing a strand of dark hair into Wooyoung’s eyes, taking your breath away. Paris was quite the show from up there.

“I really am sorry,” slowly, he made his way over, sitting down next to you as he cast his eyes onto the breathtaking view in front of you. “I overslept, couldn’t find my keys, then had to rush here and… I’m sorry.”

You scoffed, not believing he almost failed the both of you because he didn’t hear his alarm in the morning. Actually, you could believe it, because it was such a Wooyoung thing to do. You couldn’t stay mad for long though, not when you turned to look at him and simply seeing his face bathing in the golden sun made your heart stutter in your chest. Not when his sorry eyes were melting like honey in the light.

“I wanted to punch you in the face when you came in late,” overwhelmed by his gaze, you looked away. Faintly, you heard him scoff beside you. “But I was also relieved. I didn’t think Berrien would let you cook.”

“I was ready to beg on my knees,” you snickered, Wooyoung elbowed your side. “No, really, lièvre à la royale is a bitch, I wouldn’t have let you cook it alone.”

“Then why did you sleep through your alarm? I was seeing red and had a knife in my hand, do you have a death wish?” You joked, heart singing when you made him laugh.

“Hey, I had trouble sleeping last night,” he defended himself, hands up as his laughter died down. With a furrowed brow and inquisitive eyes, you finally looked back at him, studying his face. Only then you noticed the purplish circles under his eyes, just a bit darker than usual.

“Why?” You asked, trying to sound less worried than how you felt. It was Wooyoung’s turn to avoid your eyes and look out at the Parisian skyline, starting to twinkle in the fast-approaching night.

“I- well,” he sighed as you kept looking, feeling the air around you shift. The way Wooyoung was struggling to come up with an answer had you feeling like you were standing at the edge of a cliff, buzzing with expectation, hanging onto his every word. You didn’t ponder too long on why your heart was racing or why you felt like you could barely breathe. Finally, he looked at you.

“I like you.”

Now you truly did find it hard to breathe.

“I like you so much I can barely focus when we cook, and it’s never happened to me before because I love cooking and I always pay close attention to what I’m doing. I also don’t want to lose a finger, you know? But now you’re around and it’s like I can’t help but look at you. You’re so bright and so passionate, and when you’re chopping vegetables you scrunch your nose a little and it’s one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen-”

In seconds you had your lips on his, pulling him closer with a delicate hand on the back of his neck. Wooyoung froze for only a millisecond before kissing you back. His lips were so pillowy and soft, you kissed him slowly, like you had all the time in the world. Lightly, his hand traveled up to rest on yours, which had moved onto his cheek. Kissing him felt like coming home after a long day. Warm and pleasant like the flame that swallowed your heart, chasing away the menacing grip fear had on it.

Wooyoung pulled away first if only to plant a small peck onto your lips before smiling.

“I was speaking,” he said.

“You were rambling.”

You both started laughing, hearts singing.

“What I wanted to say is that you shine in your own light and I can’t help but bask in it.”

The way he was looking at you, in ways no one ever could, could have melted you right then and there. You felt the flush rise to your cheeks, the hand that still rested on his cheek trembling lightly.

“I like you too, Jung Wooyoung,” you smiled. “More than I think I should.”

The quaint flower shop came into view, dispelling the memory, and a soft smile opened up on your lips. It didn’t look like there were any customers, so you stepped in. The colors of the pretty flowers that covered every inch of the walls always managed to put you in a better mood. You walked up to the counter, ringing the bell.

“Coming!” You heard from behind it, somewhere in the back, with a little shuffling and a loud thump. You jumped on your spot, giggling.

“You okay, Sang?” You asked, trying to peep. Your friend emerged a second later, clad in a white shirt, jeans, and his green apron, blowing a piece of his black fringe out of his eyes, a vase full of sunflowers in his hands.

“Oh, hey, what brings you ‘round?” He smiled, setting the vase on the counter.

“Just dropping by before going grocery shopping,” you shrugged, smiling back before you started playing softly with the leaves of the flowers near you. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good, I should be asking how you are,” he raised a brow, crossing his arms over his chest, “it’s the fourth time you visit this week.”

You rolled your eyes, used to his antics, standing to help when he nodded at you to follow him. The quietness of the shop eased your thoughts more often than not, plus, you enjoyed the company of your friend. Yeosang lived in your same apartment building and opened up his shop early in the morning, around the same time you had to leave for work. Oftentimes you shared a coffee before your obligations called. He complained about horrible customers and you complained about your horrible coworkers.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something,” busy with an arrangement, he nodded you to the water lilies to his right. You reached for them with an arched brow, passing them. “A restaurant is opening down the street, if you’re interested in paying rent this month.”

You huffed a laugh, pretending to be offended.

“I’ll have you know I save my money, thank you very much.” He stood again, having finished his composition, watching you with an amused expression. “But I appreciate it,” you conceded. Yeosang smiled now, going back behind the counter as you followed.

“You should really check it out, even if it’s just temporary. It’d do you good,” a customer walked in, interrupting your chat. You nodded, leaving him to his work, shooting him one last smile before walking out. His cheerful Have a good day followed you out of the shop and into the now busier street.

Yeosang was right, you knew that much, but you still hesitated as you left the flower shop. There was uncertainty in your steps as you dared to walk down the street, looking ahead to spot the restaurant. Maybe you could go later that day, you could start with something easy like the grocery shopping you needed to do, to ease your nerves.

That was better, you decided, easing yourself into the day with your routine before upsetting it by facing something new. With newfound vigor, you resumed your walking, headed to your favorite greengrocer. A walk that lasted barely five steps, before you collided against another passerby.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t-”

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to-”

As apologies spilled past your lips, your eyes finally caught sight of the person you so rudely slammed into. When you did, you stopped talking, just as your lungs stopped breathing for a long second.

His dark hair looked a little longer, and his smile was just as you remembered, if not a little softer. Breathtakingly dashing like the first time you saw him, even in his worst moments. Because the last time you saw him, things weren’t pretty. You threw around words you didn’t mean only to disappear from his life. Both of you were crying, eyes red and puffy, voice broken as you spoke. You thought you’d never see him again.

To your dismay, you realized right then and there that you weren’t ready to face him yet. You never prepared for the moment it would all come back, simply because you never thought it would.

“Thought I’d never see you again,” Wooyoung huffed, his polite smile falling in seconds.

“Yeah, me too,” you croaked, still in shock.

The moment stretched on for what felt like minutes, and was only probably seconds, as you desperately tried to come up with something to say, something that’d make sense. But your brain came up empty-handed, because what if he hated you? He should hate you. What if he just told you to fuck off and left? Just like you did years ago.

“So, what are you up to?”

And yet, here he was again, taking your life by storm. There was no way he was standing there, in front of you in the middle of a busy sidewalk, asking what was of your life. You blanked, producing a sort of confused and surprised noise. He had to be joking. You watched as a little amusement flashed in his eyes, the corner of his lips twitching upwards.

“Would you like to catch up over coffee?”

Your eyes must’ve been wide as saucers, not a single second of this was making sense to you.

“U-uh… Sure,” you shrugged, despite yourself.

Was this his way of showing you he was unbothered and had moved on? His long-awaited chance to brag about where he was in life? You didn’t know him as someone who would do that, but perhaps you deserved it. Maybe this was karma.

Awkward. It was all so painfully awkward: walking in tense silence beside him to the coffee shop down the street, trying to make small talk about the weather, stumbling over your words when ordering coffee, waiting for him to join you at the table near the exit. Just in case.

“You’re back home?” You finally asked as he sat down in front of you, desperate to find something, anything, to talk about and fill the silence that hung menacingly over your heads. After all, he wanted to catch up. Wooyoung nodded, slowly sipping his drink.

“Oh, you’ve been traveling then,” you mumbled, playing with your coffee cup, not daring to look up at him again.

“I was, yes.” It was hard to wrap your head around what was happening. In another life, this would all have been familiar. It could have been. Sharing a cup of coffee on a Thursday morning, talking about whatever, sharing cool recipes, and planning how or when to try them out. His presence wouldn’t make you want to simultaneously vomit and run and hide. Dug your own grave, huh?

“Only big names I imagine,” you forced a smile. He shrugged with a huff, a little bashful perhaps. It was all you needed to know you’d guessed right.

“What about you? What brings you here?” Wooyoung asked, pulling you out of your reverie. Despite the small, polite smile on his lips, his eyes were unreadable. Though, deep down, you knew the answer he wanted to hear. That you traveled all around the world and did big things - still were - and worked for big names. Achieved your dreams at the expense of his. The lump in your throat made it hard to swallow, to speak.

“Worked at Hwang’s for a while…” you managed to say through the bitterness. Wooyoung’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, jaw hanging open.

“Really? Wow, that’s… amazing! Doesn’t it have two Michelin stars?” Some of your guilt evaporated at the surprise and excitement in his voice, a lightness that was quickly crushed by your own disappointment.

“How’s it there?” There it was, the million-dollar question. You scoffed, bitter, looking at him, watching his face fall a little.

“I quit.” You shrugged.

“You? Quitting? What happened to the Y/N I knew?” Wooyoung was surprised, that much you could tell, but there was something else brewing in his brown eyes.

“Dead, gone and buried, apparently.”

Your words were nothing but bleak, with a little bitterness still in them. Sure, you did what was best for you and you were proud, but you couldn’t help but feel like you had let him down. And wasn’t that absolutely, wildly foolish?

“They offered me a job as head chef in their new restaurant, but I turned that down as well,” you rushed to explain, feeling like you had to, missing his furrowed brow.

“That’s…”

“Crazy?” You offered, cutting him off. Wooyoung scoffed.

“Well, yeah, but there must’ve been a good reason,” he shrugged. “You don’t have to justify your choices to me, Y/N.”

Your breathing faltered at his words and the fragility they held. Wooyoung had muttered them so softly, you could’ve lost them in the bustling atmosphere around you, and somehow both stabbed and healed your heart’s wounds.

A moment passed before he cleared his throat, speaking again.

“So, you’re unemployed,” you almost couldn’t fathom how quickly he got back to bubbly and upbeat. You nodded, still stunned.

“Great, me too.” Wooyoung smiled while you blinked repeatedly. Was he… happy?

“My friend told me about this one restaurant opening down the street-”

“They’re not opening,” he said, watching as your face fell. “Not yet at least.”

You furrowed a brow, confused, about to ask what he meant when he cut you off again.

“I still need to find a co-owner.”

For a moment, you didn’t hear the car, just outside, honking at a group of teenagers crossing the street despite the redlight. You missed the way a barista made a glass fall and shatter eliciting surprised gasps around the shop. You only saw Wooyoung in front of you, his expression between smug and daring to hope, eyes shining with a little fear. All you heard were the words that left his mouth and what they implied, along with your heart ringing in your ears.

“What do you want to do? Why did you decline the head chef position?” You blanched, head spinning, brain scrambling to form coherent words. His eyes burned with a fire in them that screamed determination, one you were used to seeing as he challenged a dish he was afraid to ruin. A fire you used to love so much and that, you found, still made your breath hitch.

“I-I just want to make good food and not run a kitchen of overworked, stressed, miserable and spiteful people,” you settled on, not daring to look away, not even when he leaned back in his seat, a smirk on his lips.

“How’d you like it to open a restaurant?”

“Let’s open our own restaurant,” you laughed at his words, turning your head to catch his enthusiastic smile and bed hair all over the place. He was so beautiful, bathing in the morning light of your room, that your heart jumped and hurt and sang all at once.

“What?! Is this post-nut clarity?” Wooyoung laughed, pulling you with him.

“Way to ruin the moment, love,” he quieted down. “I’m serious, though,” he was looking at you with amusement dancing in his eyes, and such adoration that sometimes it was hard to fathom it was directed at you.

“Mixing feelings with work is the recipe for disaster, Jung,” you found yourself saying, giggling when he pulled you into him, his hands leaving goosebumps in their wake. It was quiet for a while and you reveled in the warmth of the moment. Wooyoung often made you feel like anything was possible, like right now, huddled in a tangled mess of limbs and sheets despite the impending class you needed to leave for.

“I think we’d make it,” he whispered, quite believing the words he was saying. “And if it all starts falling apart we can hire chefs to cook and be the owners. Live somewhere tropical, rebuild our relationship…”

“That’s so sad, we wouldn��t be cooking at all!” you laughed, hiding in his chest and hearing a fake offended hey! from him. “You dream too big, Woo.”

“And you dream too small, my love.” He guided your face in front of his with gentle hands, bumping his nose with yours before kissing you until you were left breathless. When you pulled away, you finally saw the stars dancing in his eyes.

“I do have dreams,” you almost whispered, treading lightly on your own aspirations, opening up your heart for someone else to see. Someone who would understand and not call you crazy. Wooyoung nudged you, an expectant smile on his lips. “I want to travel all around the world and learn from the best of the best. Life’s a classroom, I don’t think I’ll ever want to stop.”

“Never?” he asked, not quite surprised, but more like impressed. He understood. You let out an elated giggle, almost cursing yourself for behaving like a schoolgirl.

“Never.” unable to resist, you pecked his lips once.

“That’s a wonderful dream, love.”

One of his hands came up to rest on your cheek, cradling it gently, looking at you as if you were the most prized possession of his. All over, warmth wrapped you up, and rose to your cheeks that he was still grazing his thumb over, light as a feather.

“I want to open a restaurant someday, ” he whispered, so close to you, looking into your eyes and sending sparks flying in your chest. “But I think I might just follow you to the ends of the world.”

His lips crashed on yours once more, sending your heart racing more than his words had. This might’ve been the closest you’d ever felt to heaven, with Wooyoung wrapped around you, canceling any and everything else. You knew, right then and there, that the fall was going to hurt like nothing had ever before.

Consommé was the most devilish dish you’d ever had the displeasure of cooking. And yet, its intricate cooking process demanded every last bit of your undivided attention. That was why you were sweating away in the kitchen, trying to achieve the perfect result through your rusty memory of the process, although you had no need for it. Well, except not thinking of your morning. You’d rather remember Chef Berrien’s voice as he dictated the recipe and the endless ways you could ruin it, than your encounter with Wooyoung.

A shiver ran down your spine, tingling all the way, when his words, the ones from earlier and the ones from back then, echoed in your mind; clashing, fighting, and leaving behind scorched earth.

You could hardly believe this was your life right now. Accepting would mean tying yourself down to this place, to Wooyoung. You let the thought simmer in your head, waiting for the familiar claustrophobia to bloom in your chest, suggesting you to run and never come back.

It didn’t come.

Instead, the thought of leaving pulled at your heartstrings. You liked it here. You liked your morning coffee shit-talking sessions with Yeosang, you liked meeting up with Seonghwa on his days off, you liked your greengrocers and the walk back through the park near home. You liked your apartment, you finally liked the disposition of your tools in your kitchen. You liked the thought of working with Wooyoung.

You dropped the ladle, splashing your skin with the hot soup. You hissed in pain, clutching your hand to your chest before assessing the damage. You walked the short distance to the sink, running your hand under cold water.

Well, you thought, there goes the clarification process.

You skipped breakfast with Yeosang that morning. For one, you were late despite the alarms, and, most importantly, you needed to talk yourself into actually meeting Wooyoung at the restaurant. The day before you’d left him with the promise of letting him know about the offer. You preferred not to think about how, for just a moment, you could see the determination falter in his eyes. Again. Wooyoung saved his number in your phone before letting you go.

After taking care of your slightly burned hand, you stared at your phone for all of twenty minutes before finally crafting the perfect text saying you’d meet him at the restaurant at ten.

And now, five minutes to ten, you were running down the street, dodging people left and right, trying to get to the closed-down restaurant. You couldn’t count the amount of sorry’s you’d thrown around when accidentally running into someone. Finally, the sign came into view, and so did Wooyoung.

“You made it,” he sounded vaguely surprised and you tried not to let it get to you, or to let it show on your face.

“So,” you cleared your voice after nodding. “How’d you find out about this?” He gestured for you to follow towards the entrance, producing the key from the back pocket of his black jeans.

“I used to like this place,” he easily opened the door, leading you inside the empty restaurant. From the outside the restaurant didn’t look like much more than a hole in the wall, but the inside was spacious enough. A small restaurant, fitting maybe twenty tables at best, but you liked the idea. By the looks of it, it must had been recently renovated. Wooyoung switched the lights on, allowing you to see better. “When I got back the owner told me he was thinking of closing, and I asked if he wanted to sell. He made a pretty good offer.”

“Huh,” you were still looking at the anonymous white walls and the few sleek black tables left behind, making your way to what you knew to be the kitchen. Stepping in, you gasped. It was perfect; an island kitchen slightly bigger than you’d imagined. Almost gleaming in its silver glory it stared back at you, inviting you in. You didn’t even mind the checkered floor as you walked across the space and took it in. Wooyoung stood by the door, leaning against its frame with his hands in his pockets, watching. It looked like he was holding his breath, and you knew why.

“What do you think?” his voice was just a little bit hesitant. You turned around with a smile.

“I love it,” you offered, noticing how he seemed to ease up the slightest bit.

“Ah, I knew you’d fall for the island kitchen,” Wooyoung scoffed, walking into the space as well.

“Not my fault it’s the best type of kitchen,” you raised your hands, hearing him snort.

“Debatable,” he muttered, now standing in front of you. There was amusement dancing in his eyes, a spark you realized just then how much you’d missed.

It hit you then, square in the chest, how much you really just missed him. He still seemed to know what you wanted even before you knew yourself. It happened then and it was happening now. Being in the kitchen with him felt electrifying, your hands itched to start cooking. You looked around once more, seeing yourself bustling around in this kitchen, Wooyoung at your side.

Never once did you regret the choices you’d made; your love for food had brought you all around the world, learning and cooking in the most beautiful kitchens, earning your praise felt like the biggest reward. Believing in yourself and your skill, your craft, and being able to perfect it was all you really needed. Maybe it was time to stop and breathe for a while, and put your experience to use. Because, no, you never regretted where your choices took you, except losing Wooyoung. Your compass, the one who never lost sight of your heart.

“Let’s do it.”

Wooyoung looked at you as if you’d grown a second head, letting out a surprised sound.

“I saved quite a bit in the last few years and we could ask for a loan. Quite frankly, I’ve always wanted to run a kitchen on my own terms,” you could hear it in your voice, the ambition faintly coming back to it, something you hadn’t heard in a while. You smiled seeing Wooyoung straighten up.

“We’d be running it together,” he lifted a brow, crossing his arms over his chest. You mirrored his stance.

“That’s good with me,” Wooyoung smirked.

“Then let’s do it.”

Oftentimes you asked yourself how you ended up here. You believed it almost impossible that you were, once again, sitting in front of Jung Wooyoung at an ungodly hour of the night, eating food you’d made as the radio softly played in the background. What was even less credible to you was how you were sitting in your restaurant, yours, discussing menu plans.

A month strong into the planning and designing, you were proud to say that you and Wooyoung were… friendly. Like coworkers were. Almost like long-lost friends would be. But it was fine because you got to stress Yeosang nearly every morning about how sometimes you both would slip into old habits and bicker like you used to and how that would confuse you. Then you’d talk Seonghwa’s ear off one night a week in front of your drinks, rambling on and on about how you’d catch yourself staring at him, blushing like an idiot, stumbling over your words.

Safe to say that your friends were tired, but deep down it surprised and comforted them to see you come back to life bit by bit.

It was all hard to wrap your head around because the last time you saw him still burned in the back of your mind. It was the giant elephant in the room you could never address, you could never pretend to not see. But Wooyoung was great at turning a blind eye, you realized. And you couldn’t really blame him either. You never expected to be in this sort of situation, you had quite literally run from it.

But you were afraid of misstepping, of crossing a line.

So, now, there you stood, at a crossroads; talk about it and watch this newfound truce crash and burn, or pretend like everything was fine. For now, discussing the menu with your co-owner would have to do.

“I think we should add that!” Wooyoung all but yelled, slamming his chopsticks down.

“And I’m telling you that I know the area!” You rebutted, swallowing your bite, before carrying on with your point. “There’s at least three other restaurants that do that, what’s missing is a gourmet place.”

“Will you let it go?” He sighed, throwing his hands up in the air. “If we get there, we get there, if we don’t, then we’re still making fantastic food!”

Wooyoung had a point, you knew he did. A valid one at that.

“You’re insufferable,” you conceded, rolling your eyes and resuming your eating, trying to hide the smile pulling at your lips.

“You love it,” he winked, picking up his chopsticks.

And just like that, he threw you back into your loop. How could you simply let it go when this felt so familiar? When it reminded you so much of how you were? Light and carefree. Happy. You hadn’t noticed your eyes roaming around his figure, taking in his long dark hair pulled back by a ponytail, the way his eyes seemed to shine in the dull light coming from the stupid lamp he’d insisted on bringing in.

This was his dream, wasn’t it? You remembered, because how could you forget the endless hours he’d spend talking about his own restaurant, managing his own kitchen, creating dishes, and cooking his favorites? You could tell by the small smile he sported as he ate, looking around the room with star-filled eyes.

You didn’t know quite how you fit into this. You never amounted that one conversation, years ago in your Paris apartment, up to anything more than daydreaming. Though, right now, the moment felt tangible, you could grasp it in your hands if you wanted to. He'd given you a new dream to chase right when you thought you were over.

“You’re looking at me weird,” Wooyoung waved his chopsticks in a circle around your face, eyebrows furrowed.

“Sorry,” your eyes fell back to the almost empty plate, moving the last bites of food around.

“I didn’t say it was bothering me,” his voice was lower, almost a whisper, and you felt your heart drop. When you looked up, you didn’t know what to make of his expression. It looked like he was contemplating his following words, and you were all but hanging from his lips. He stayed quiet, eyes downcast on his plate, and shot you a short smile.

You let the radio fill the silence between you, allowing the thoughts to pester your mind. Though, like a cup overflowing, there was little you could do to cage them and push them down.

“Wooyoung, were you-” his eyes rose to meet yours, and you stopped for a second, mulling the question over, savoring its bitter taste in your mouth before spitting it out as if it were a seed that ruined your bite. “Who were you going to open the restaurant with?”

His wide eyes told you all you needed to know, and yet his stunned silence pulled another set of words out of your lips.

“You said you needed a co-owner first…” you rasped, almost shocked you were still talking through the cotton in your mouth. Wooyoung set his chopsticks down, trying to hide the way his hands started trembling, sighing.

“We made a good team, didn’t we?” his voice was quieter, wondering. He shot you an uneasy smile, so short and so small you almost missed it. “I know you’re a great chef and we want this to be a great restaurant.”

“Yeah…” you whispered, feeling the weight of memories unloading on both your shoulders, their presence demanding the unwanted plunging into deep, murky waters. “Does it have, uhm… does it have anything to do with-”

“Let’s not open that can of worms, mh?” He cut you off immediately, sounding a tad harsher than he had before, rubbing salt into your matching wounds.

“I just-” It felt like you were gasping for air, grasping at any lifeline you were afforded, lost in the swirling sea that were his pained eyes.

“I know.”

A mangled victory, or a loss, the way his voice sounded resolute. It allowed no space for you to counterattack, to try and pry any other thought out of him. And you accepted it, simple and plain, with no complaints. You had no right to. Nodding, you averted your eyes, affording him space.

“I-” Wooyoung sighed, running a hand through his hair. The conflict in his mind was reflected on his face clear as day. Before his eyes were back on you, they looked around the room. “I missed you.”

Bearing his heart, that was what he was doing. It felt like, despite everything, he was still offering you a small piece of it. Your breath caught in your throat. Three words that held huge implications and a heavy past. One right answer, a truthful one, that could sound highly hypocritical of you. But you had to say it.

“I missed you, too.”

Wooyoung smiled, small and tentative, but still as warm as sunshine. You smiled back.

The night was as cold as you felt despite having his arms wrapped around you, offering you shelter from the biting wind. Tonight the twinkling lights of the city below you couldn’t offer their usual comfort. You knew what was going to happen as soon as you opened your mouth to speak; you’d be breaking his heart along with yours. But you had to, hadn’t you? Wooyoung would understand.

“Don’t you want to stay here forever?” He mumbled in your ear, his warm breath making you shiver. You kept staring out at the Parisian lights, heart sinking with every beat.

“I-” you sighed, squeezing your eyes shut, wishing there was a way to prevent the hurt you were about to put him through. Never mind about yourself, all you cared about was him. Always him. Then why are you doing this? Sounded something in the recess of your mind. You shushed it. The lump in your throat formed out of the blue, making it hard to utter the next words.

“I wish I could,” you whispered, hoping your words would get lost in the wind, bracing for impact when you felt him tense and pull away from you. A gust blew by, chilling you to the bone now that he wasn’t holding you anymore. The look in his eyes sparked burning regret in your heart, setting it aflame.

“What do you mean?”

He had taken a step back, confused eyes searching for yours. You couldn’t bear to look at him, not when you were about to break all the promises you’d made right along with his heart. What a coward.

“I was offered a job in New York,” you began, hearing his sharp intake of breath. “I took it… I leave next week.”

When you finally mustered enough courage to look back at him, you saw betrayal shining clear in his eyes, swirling in disbelief, his mouth slightly parted in surprise. It was almost as if you could hear his thoughts, and each of them cut a deeper wound.

How could you? Why didn’t you tell me? I would've been happy for you. We could’ve made other plans.

“Were you just going to disappear from my life forever, then?” He spat, a little angry, a little sad.

“No, Wooyoung, I-” you tried to reason, knowing very well that no excuse would hold. He scoffed bitterly, hiding his hands in the pockets of his jacket like a hurt kid. Already hard to talk through the burning in your throat, the tears springing in your eyes didn’t make the task any easier.

“Save it,” he cut you off, shaking his head. “I should’ve known. I hope you’ll find what you’re looking for there,” he made to go, but you couldn’t let him, not yet.

“Wouldn’t you have done the same?” He stopped dead in his tracks; you’d said the wrong thing. But you couldn’t hide your hand now that you’d thrown the stone. “Is it not our dream to learn and travel when all of this is done?”

Wooyoung shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it, and to some extent, you couldn’t either.

“No, I wouldn’t have, Y/N. It may be your dream but it isn’t mine. Not anymore, not since I met you. So, yeah, I would’ve given it all up,” he all but yelled, each word was like a punch in the gut. Despite the noise of the city below, the beat of silence that lingered sounded louder than any of it.

“Go to New York, love. It’s your dream after all,” he conceded, voice dying down and broken, softer, like some sort of realization had dawned upon him. He blinked away his tears, still, you refused to let yours fall.

In a second he was close to you again, his smell and warmth engulfing you once more. A sob broke through you when you felt his arms wrapping around you tight, and another was pulled from you when one of his hands came to softly rake through your hair. Wooyoung surrounded you with all he was, holding you tight, almost as if he loved you. Almost, you thought, because you knew the difference, for you had felt what it was to be loved – truly loved – by him. But you went and broke it. Now, you had to put love out of the question, and think only of duty. You had made your choice, after all, and he knew it too.

“Goodbye,” in an instant you were left on your own, cold, and watched as he walked away from you, his whisper resonating in your soul, breaking it with each echo.

If you chose to follow your dream, then why did it hurt so much?

Sundays used to be your day off. You’d wake up at midday, usually to a ray of sunlight harshly shining into your face until you could no longer bear its warmth. You’d roll out of bed and lazily proceed to tidy your apartment and rot on the couch for the remainder of the day. Now, though, you were a restaurant owner and Wooyoung insisted you should stay open on Sundays because two out of three of the restaurants in your area were closed. So, you rolled out of bed, taking just one second to admire the first rays of sunlight shining through the fading, dark night sky. You sped through your routine and breakfast, having sacrificed that slot of time in favor of five more minutes of sleep.

Despite the fast-approaching summer, the morning air was still rather chilly, and much quieter than the rumbling of cars and city rustle that you were used to. You didn’t have to squeeze past sleepy teenagers and angry old ladies on the bus and got to choose which seat to sit in. You didn’t mind early Sundays.

In no time you’d open the restaurant. Today you’d convinced Seonghwa and Yeosang to drop by for lunch; you needed them to test out the menu you and Wooyoung had carefully crafted. Of course, at the mention of free food, both of them agreed, so there wasn’t much convincing involved after all. A sort of test run before the grand opening.

The restaurant stood before you in the quiet street, looking close to the eye. You smiled proudly, producing the key from your bag, opening the door, and closing it behind you after walking in. The room was quiet, the only indication of someone being in there was the rustle and faint light coming from the kitchen.

“Hey, Woo,” he was already there, setting out pans and pots. You walked in, reaching for your jacket.

“Hi!” Although his head was hidden in a cupboard, you could hear his cheery voice loud and clear. “Are you ready?”

When he emerged, he was sporting a happy smile, contagious enough to make you chuckle.

“As I’ll ever be.”

Wooyoung smiled at you, beckoning you over to the station where a copy of the menu lay. You sure had your work cut out for the day. Up until then, between the furnishing and taking care of the more bureaucratic aspect of opening a restaurant, cooking together hadn't been common. You were thrilled to finally share the kitchen with him again.

“Hey! The rolling pin is there to keep you off my half of the counter,” you huffed, trying your best not to let your irritation show. Not while you were trying to close dumplings perfectly.

“Oh, come on!” He protested, “I can’t believe you’d still do that, look at how much space we have!”

“Yeah, and somehow, you’re still taking up most of it,” Wooyoung grumbled under his breath, finally moving a few of his bowls and pans to make space for you.

“Gee, thanks,” although you weren’t trying to rile him up, you still ended up falling back into old habits.

“Oh my-” he rolled his eyes at your sarcasm, moving a couple more things, “You’re the bane of my existence.”

“You literally asked me to be your co-worker!” You laughed, shocked, but amused.

“And there’s not a day I don’t regret it,” with his nose in the air, trying and failing to hide a smile, Wooyoung resumed his meat slicing. You scoffed, not really offended. It was so easy to breathe when things felt as light as they did. A smile threatened to open up on your face, but you had an act to keep up.

Silence used to be rare between the two of you, yet you liked it now. There was no awkward space to fill anymore, not a single word to be wasted. You worked in tandem, like a well-oiled machine, chuckling at Wooyoung’s occasional jokes and exchanging instructions. It felt good. It felt like it used to.

“Are you nervous?” You asked him as you finalized the prepping for the second course. Wooyoung looked up, flashing that smile of his that could rival the sun.

“Not really,” he shrugged. “Are you?”

You nodded, avoiding his eyes and focusing on the bowl under your nose. The sauce you prepared to marinate the fish had a pungent note it shouldn’t have had. You didn’t notice him slipping closer to you, right at your side. Wooyoung was leaning on the counter, facing you.

“You’ve got nothing to be worried about,” his voice aimed to soothe, and it did, sweet like honey. “Are you or are you not one of the best chefs in town?”

You looked up at him, scoffing, ignoring the heat on your face that his closeness brought along.

“See, now you’re exaggerating!”

“I’m not.”

“Are, too!” A soft laugh escaped the two of you, and when he looked at you, eyes so full of hope and happiness, your breathing stopped for just a second. “But you’re right, it’s gonna be okay, I’m just… I don’t know, I want them to like what we made.”

“They’re gonna,” he shrugged. Only when you gave him a questioning look he answered. “Because we made it.”

It looked like Wooyoung still knew what to say and when to say it to put your nerves at ease.

“Can I have some more?”

“Me too!”

“You can’t ask that!”

“Says who?”

“Alright, we’ll make it,” Wooyoung quelled the discussion that was about to start quickly, coming back into the kitchen with empty plates.

Two of his friends had joined yours for lunch, not that the food was lacking, but it seemed that Yeosang and San had promptly bonded over their love for one particular dish. Gamjatang, which wasn’t even on the menu, the two were just bottomless pits, apparently. The only one coming to your aid with restaurant etiquette was Seonghwa, whose reprimanding went unheard. Hongjoong stuck to silent side-eyeing, which barely helped.

“Should we consider adding it to the menu?” Wooyoung joked, coming over to the stove where you stood, already heating up what was left of the broth from the previous batch. You thanked your lucky star you had some ready, or else they’d had to wait hours to eat.

“Let’s make it available only after eleven, though.”

He laughed, reminding you how you closed at midnight while washing and cutting up the mung bean sprouts, crown daisy leaves, perilla leaves, and green chilies you needed to add later on. You went for the pork bones, potatoes, and cabbage leaves.

Wooyoung set his bowl of vegetables close to the stove, ready for you whenever.

“Do you need more seasoning base?” He asked as you put your portion of ingredients into the pot.

“Yeah, there’s not much left,” you looked at him, waiting for your word to start. “Thanks.”

He smiled, getting to work quick.

As everything simmered and cooked, the two of you stood in front of the stove, silent, side to side. Outside, you heard your friends all talk and laugh, but they sounded miles away. Once again, you thought you knew what was running through his head. The night when he taught you how to cook the dish, the way he followed your every step with an encouraging smile. How your heart fluttered when he kissed your lips right after his first bite, saying that there was no way he was ever going to cook it again if yours tasted much better. How one night you tipsily tried to cook it together, almost spilling the batch of broth you saved in the fridge and ruining it all, but could only laugh until your stomachs hurt because somehow it was the funniest thing ever. After all, they plagued your thoughts as well.

When the timer went off and he looked at you like a deer caught in headlights, you smiled, trying to ease away the tension that had bubbled up, going to kill the flame and plate the dish.

You passed him a full bowl with shaking hands, praying he didn’t hear the way your heart was hammering in your chest.

“Maybe you should take away the wine,” Seonghwa sported a light frown on his lips when you made your way to the table with the other bowl in your hands. You furrowed a brow, noticing the way San and Yeosang were giggling a little too loudly, and how the former was particularly flushed, only after setting the dish in front of him.

“Good idea,” Wooyoung snickered, scurrying back into the kitchen with the bottle. You watched him go, debating if to follow or give him space. You decided to stay, asking your guests how they liked the food.

Seonghwa ended up giving you precious input and feedback, over the laughter coming from the opposite end of the table. It made you smile. Despite how interested you were in your friend’s recap of the things he appreciated the most about appetizers, you couldn’t help but glance a little worriedly at the kitchen doors from time to time. Wooyoung was still in there.

“Alright, we should go,” Hongjoong, who had simply complimented your cooking with a polite smile, spoke up after a while. San protested a little but stopped his efforts to stay pretty quickly when his friend said he was going to have no ride home.

The two made their way to say their goodbyes to Wooyoung in the kitchen, leaving you with your friends.

“We should go, too,” Yeosang stood, walking over to the doors with you and Seonghwa.

“Thank you guys for coming,” you quickly hugged them both. “Drop by whenever.”

“You know I will,” Yeosang giggled, making you smile.

“Keep it up!” Seonghwa said, walking out first. You waved them both off, and when you turned around, you were faced with San and Hongjoong. The former complimented your food, saying he’d bring over friends and family, rambling a bit. You giggled as he spoke, thanking him.

“Thank you for having us, the food was delicious,” Hongjoong watched over San making his way out of the restaurant after saying his goodbyes, turning to you with a small smile. “Can I ask one thing of you?”

Your brow furrowed, but you nodded quickly. He sighed.

“I know you two have a complicated past,” he started, sending a jolt of anxiety through you. “And I see you’re doing great despite it, so, please, just… don’t hurt him again.”

“I would never,” you were furiously nodding, suddenly your throat felt a little dry, hands all clammy.

“Thank you,” Hongjoong smiled, walking out as well, leaving you dumbfounded and staring at their disappearing figures.

You waited in silence for a while, mulling his words over in your head. When you turned around and saw Wooyoung leaning against the kitchen door’s frame with a bright, wide smile adorning his lips, the sight almost gave you a heart attack. He laughed loudly seeing your spooked reaction, making a smile appear on your face. His laughter only served to make your heart stutter like butterfly wings, having barely recovered from the surprise, making you giggle as well.

Wooyoung looked so happy that you felt you could burst at the seams.

“They liked it!” You could barely contain your excitement as you locked up and started to make your way over to him, almost with a skip in your step.

“They did,” he smiled back, eyes scanning your figure until you were right up in front of him. Not even thinking twice, you let your arms sneak around his shoulders, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. You even swayed side to side. Wooyoung laughed happily, his own arms around your waist to pull you closer.

“I’m so happy,” you murmured when your excitement quelled. Your chin was resting atop his shoulder, and his on yours. When he spoke, quietly, you could hear the smile on his lips right against your ear.

“I’m glad,” he said. “Me too.”

It was quiet. For the first time since that morning there were no friends laughing at the table, no bickering in the kitchen along with the sizzling of the pans, chopping on the cutting board, and rumbling of the pots.

Just you and him.

Your heart was still racing, over the moon for the success of your menu, but also quickened by his close proximity. Once realization struck that you’d pulled him into you, you were quick to let go, though his arms around your waist wouldn’t let you wander far.

“Sorry, I-”

“It’s okay,” the look in his eyes was enough to send your heart to your feet, air stuck in your lungs, and take you back in time, just for a second. It was all it took for you to want to pull away from him as if you’d gotten shocked. You found that you couldn’t. Not when Wooyoung held you a little tighter, searching for anything in your eyes that would prompt him to stop leaning even a breath closer.

Frozen in time, in your spot, your grip on his kitchen jacket grew impossibly strong.

When his nose softly brushed against yours, as if he’d sensed your mind wandering far and wide and wanted to bring you back to him, and you saw how his half-lidded eyes were holding a simple question, you pulled back.

“Should we get to cleaning up?”

Wooyoung’s eyes closed, for a fleeting second, before he started nodding.

“Yeah, we’re gonna be here all night,” he cleared his voice, arms falling from around you. He offered a smile so small that it barely showed, the moment gone as soon as it came. You watched as he disappeared behind the kitchen doors, shoulders dropping and eyes falling close.

You gave yourself a moment, just one, to relish in his closeness. The closest he’d ever been to you in years, something that used to be so familiar and still sparked the same goosebumps, the same erratic heartbeat. You sighed, following after him.

You couldn’t sleep. You hadn’t for a good week.

Between the imminent opening of the restaurant and the newfound awkwardness between you and Wooyoung, your head was so full of swirling thoughts that, as soon as you closed your eyes, it prevented you from enjoying one singular night of rest. They just kept going, growing into a never-ending spiral of what-ifs and exploding into a hurricane of beating yourself up.

By now you’d given up on trying to make sense of your feelings. All you knew was that you wanted to keep Wooyoung to your side, co-worker, friend, or lover, it didn't matter. Now that he was back into your life, you didn’t want to risk losing him again. Though, it got increasingly hard to ignore how you wished he would stay with you once you closed the restaurant. How you wanted him to hold you like he used to, how you wanted to tell him every day just much of your love and devotion he had.

It was still dark outside when you closed the door to your apartment behind you. Almost without thinking, you’d thrown the covers off of yourself and gotten out of bed, put on the first clean clothes you found, and got out of the house. The cold, crisp air of the night hit you right in the face, waking you up like an icy splash of water would have. You pulled your jacket closer around your body, starting the walk to the restaurant. The keys jiggled in your hand, one of the few sounds in the lonesome streets.

Your heart had decided the way for you before your mind could catch up.

You’d always found solace in cooking. It allowed your mind to relax, and think about what was right in front of your nose, slicing through all your doubts and worries like a knife. With each step you followed, each accomplished passage towards the perfect result, you felt lighter and lighter. Then Wooyoung came along. Never could you have predicted that something else in your life would’ve been able to bring you the same comfort and brightness as cooking.

Whatever peace and happiness you’d found in your passion, you’d also found in him. He set you alight. You’d been dumb and wrong enough to think that the feeling that came along with him could be replaced.

But how could it? Once you let go if it, of him, Wooyoung had haunted all of your what-ifs. All of your darkest nights could only brighten up if you thought of his infectious laugh, his soft kisses, and his kind words.

Reaching the restaurant brought you back out of your thoughts. You were here now, by some fateful design, with him again. You’d do anything not to lose your brightest star again.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You closed the backdoor behind you with a jolt, not expecting Wooyoung to be sitting at a table, illuminated only by the light coming from his beloved lamp.

“What’re you doing here?”

Ever so slowly, you made your way to him, trying to calm your racing heart. He raised his shoulders, avoiding your eyes a second later, shrugging as if he had no answer to your question. You sat with him, noticing just then the few papers scattered on the wood.

“What’s on your mind?” The question fell from your lips in a quiet whisper, almost afraid to disturb the silence hanging in the air. You still knew him, after all, maybe even more than you gave yourself credit for. He sported that furrow in his brow, the one that lightly creased his smooth skin, that only showed up when something had been bothering him.

“I-” he sighed, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, they didn’t waste a single second to find yours. Your mouth went dry.

“You know what I hate most? That sometimes I hate you, sometimes I hate myself, but always I miss you. And I never stopped torturing myself with the same questions over and over, why would you go? Did our dreams mean nothing to you? Did I mean nothing to you?” A bitter, void laugh fell from his lips. “But you’ve gotta move on, right?”

Oh.

Heart in your throat, you were left speechless in front of his innermost thoughts. Thoughts you never imagined could be plaguing his mind still. But how could you miss it now? His eyes were begging for answers, after all this time, as if the dam had finally broken. You couldn’t bear to see them be so pleading, so misty.

“That’s not true, I,” the words died in your mouth as you choked on them. “You must know it,” reduced to a whisper by the weight of truth, you tried to salvage what you’d so carefully rebuilt.

“Do I?” He sounded so helpless, your brain scrambled in all directions to find a way to convey how so untrue it all was. “You left me, Y/N, and sometimes I'm still there.”

A gasp left your lips, his words squeezing the air out of your lungs.

“We’re doing it now, isn’t it enough?”

Wooyoung shook his head, shoulders dropping in disbelief as he scoffed. Despite the dim light, from across the table, you could see his red-rimmed eyes begging you to catch on. You did, you had the second he started speaking, but you’d still said the wrong thing.

“You’re so dense,” head thrown back, hands on his face, you waited for him to speak again. “Tell me why did you go.”

Not a question. Up against the wall, you felt the way your heart fell to your stomach, how nerves were tugging at it painfully. He needed this, and you were willing to give answers.

“I didn’t think,” you started, feeling so small under his gaze. “The only thing on my mind was that I’d made it. Selfishly, I thought you’d understand. I… I never meant to hurt you, and I know it sounds like bullshit, but it’s true. And when you told me to go, for a split second, I thought we could make it. I realize now how stupid I was. How there were at least ten ways in which I could’ve handled it better. I wish I’d fought for us,”

“I’m sorry. I really am, I-” Unshed tears started to run down your cheeks, wetting your mouth with salt. “There’s nothing I regret more than letting you go.”

“We were meant to be, love,” his broken whisper was a sinking stone in your chest. Lifting your eyes to meet his, you saw the tear tracks on his desperate face matching yours.

“But we were not meant to last,” there were few ways you could describe how your heart was hurting as you muttered the words, hand reaching forwards on the table. You didn’t think Wooyoung would hold on to it until he did. Fingers intertwined, you both held on painfully tight as if by letting go you’d get lost in the current the sea of your words had provoked. Each other’s buoy in a storm of unsaid words and unresolved, muddy feelings, so strong that with nothing they could tear you apart.

You cried immersed in the dark silence of the restaurant hall, the place that crowned your dreams, listening to the other’s quiet sobs.

“I’m sorry, forgive me,” you choked out again, trying to find his face past your tears. Wooyoung reached out to brush them away, his hands just as soft as you remembered, if not more careful. The moment his skin grazed yours, a shiver ran down your spine, electrified by such simple contact. His hand lingered for a long second, cradling your cheek before all you felt was its cold absence.

He stood up first, only to walk around the table and stamp a kiss on the crown of your head, his hand holding your shoulder. You froze, barely hearing how he murmured something about seeing you in the morning, barely breathing. What you did hear was the closing door, a sign you’d been left alone with your thoughts in the dimly lit room, knowing your ignorance had broken his heart again.

You didn’t know how to fix it.

Standing and cooking side by side felt off again. You were walking on eggshells, treading on a fine line to avoid ticking off another bomb. If the weight of apologizing had been lifted off your chest, something much heavier now resided upon it. Knowing something had changed yet again, all because of how you’d acted. What you’d said.

“You want to make ramen noodles? From scratch?”

In the middle of cleaning up part of the station, you couldn’t help but let surprise seep into your voice. Wooyoung stared, nodding.

“I thought we already made enough to last us at least two days…” You let your words fade out, not wanting to start an argument. His jaw set and you realized your efforts had been in vain.

“I’d rather be safe than sorry, at least until our new hires come in,” he shrugged, going to preheat the oven. He really was serious.

You wondered why he was going through with this; you ran out of kansui, which was already hard enough to find, let alone expensive. In its absence, you’d need to prepare a substitute for it: baking soda that had to be baked in the oven for at least an hour to act properly instead of the kansui. It was such a waste of time when you had more pressing matters to attend to. Ones that didn’t need the help of your brigade.

Breathing in deeply and deciding that keeping peace was essential, you assessed how Wooyoung was just lining the baking sheet with parchment paper and spreading the baking soda over it. You went to retrieve the whole wheat and bread flours you’d need in an hour, trying to keep frustration at bay. You’d think about the salt and riboflavin later. When you came back with the sacks, Wooyoung was already cleaning the rolling pins and pasta machine. With a grunt, you set them down on the counter, watching as he jolted in surprise.

“I’ll go call our supplier while we wait on the oven,” you really didn’t mean for your voice to sound so clipped. He seemed not to care, simply giving you a nod and going on with his task.

You left the kitchen almost stomping your feet in frustration, sitting down at the table furthermost from it. Whatever game Wooyoung was playing, it needed to stop now. You had tried time and time again, in the last few days, to get anything out of him. To try and patch things up and salvage them as best as you could. But you guessed he needed time, and with the opening just around the corner, you decided it was best to let him be. As long as you could work well together, everything would be fine.

Except the wall he’d put up was so high that you felt it was impossible to climb it or break through.

The sound of the door opening brought you back to reality, reminding you that you needed to find the supplier’s contact and call, murmuring something about being closed to whoever had just come in.

“I figured,” the voice made every hair on your skin stand, plunging you back into prickly, cold, anxious times. As you looked up, you could barely believe your eyes.

“Mr. Hwang,” his name left your lips in an incredulous whisper.

“It’s been a while,” he looked around, coming in. His eyes were inspecting thoroughly everything they could lay themselves on, scrutinizing all that might be out of place, or all that wasn’t, and had the ability to spark envy in an enviable man. “Nice place.”

“How may I help you?”

“I have an offer to make you.”

Wooyoung nearly stumbled on his feet. When he’d walked out of the kitchen to see if anything had come of your call with the supplier, the last thing he’d expected was seeing you sat at a table with your old boss, having a chat, exchanging laughter. He’d quickly retreated, leaving you to it, seeing red. He didn’t need to know what was going on, nor did he want to. Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself as he stared, unable to do anything else, at the timer of the oven ticking by. Every second you sat out there, was a second he needed to reason with himself and find out what the menacing grip that held his heart was. All Wooyoung knew was that he wished you’d walk through the kitchen doors, a bright smile on your face, ready to get back to work.

And when you did, he couldn’t quite figure out the look on your face. He was dying to ask what Hwang wanted, no matter what it was, he needed whatever words you’d utter to soothe his burning curiosity. But you never spoke, keeping up your diligent work even past the timer dinging, through the kneading of the dough, its thirty-minute rest, and the several compressions through the pasta machine. He observed you carefully, like he always had, as you used a long knife to cut the noodles by hand as he was occupying the noodle cutter of the machine. Were you slipping through his fingertips again? His eyes on you had always felt like an encouraging, gentle caress. Always looking after and out for you. Wooyoung never noticed or wasn’t fully aware, that sometimes they still did. More often than not you felt the need to step away, or look away, under his gaze, caving in under his affection.

You felt that you didn’t deserve to be looked at so tenderly, not anymore.

He searched for words to say as the several pieces of dough were turned into noodles, but nothing came to mind. Nothing sounded right, not even in his head. Wooyoung let silence win this battle, preferring to let the whirring of the machine and the slicing of your knife talk, trying to work out all the tangled threads that were his thoughts. It was easy to mess up the noodles and have them stick together in an unsalvageable way; then you’d have to make them into dough again and put it through the machine, compressing it until it was ready to be cut up. He tried to treat his thoughts with the same care as noodles to avoid starting over. But Wooyoung wasn’t having the same luck.

Your muttering from the other side of the kitchen prompted him to look your way, struggling to find some space in the refrigerator for your sheet-pans. He hid his smirk, tossing the last of his noodles with cornstarch.

“Why?” You turned around, hands on your hips, irritation barely at bay. Wooyoung raised a brow, doing his very best at pushing your buttons.

“Why did we make so many fucking noodles when we are stocked full?”

“Because we need them,” he shrugged. “They’re tedious to make from scratch, it’ll make our lives easier.”

“Then you make space for them,” you huffed, hastily walking over to the dishwasher to start filling it with the utensils you’d just finished using.

“What did Hwang want?”

Wooyoung bit his tongue, watching how your back straightened at his question. He’d tried to sound casual, but the question turned out to be anything but. He couldn’t keep it in anymore, the longer he did, the more his nerves tested his peace of mind. Wooyoung watched as you froze, halting your movements, before turning to face him again. The furrow of your brow as you raked your eyes over him accelerated his heartbeat in mysterious ways, waiting with bated breath for your answer.

“Nothing important,” but it was to him. Wooyoung’s thoughts had taken him places he didn’t want to revisit. His heart had been swallowed with an all-consuming and unkindly familiar pain at the idea of you leaving him behind. Hwang had offered you a lot in the past, afforded you to realize your dreams, he knew that much. What could he give you, then?

“Then why did you take so long talking to him?” One way or the other, Wooyoung had to exorcize the sinking feeling in his chest along with the overpowering green monster resurfacing with all its might. The only way afforded to him now was to venomously spit his words to you.

“I’m not trying to put us in a hard place with our number one competitor,” you closed the loaded dishwasher behind you, coming closer to him, clouding his senses. He scoffed with a roll of his eyes and you lifted a brow, crossing your arms.

“Fine, be that way,” you carelessly threw the towel that was resting on your shoulder upon the counter. “He came back to try and persuade me to work for him again.”

And there they were, the words Wooyoung had feared the most. Someone who would whisk you away from him again as he watched helplessly, feeding into his fears.

“I said no, Woo…” your voice put a halt to every thought drowning him, your eyes full of the same softness your voice was. Giving up the fight, extinguishing the fire of his worries, at the cost of your disappointment. You swallowed the bitter bite. “Did you really think I’d go back, that I’d leave this? That I’d leave you?”

His silence was answer enough. You nodded, pressing your lips together.

“Well, I wouldn’t.”

You weren’t going to let him think like that, not now.

“I wasn’t happy there, and there’s not a single thing he could offer that would make me as happy as you do.”

Wooyoung watched, stunned into silence, while you got rid of your jacket and murmured something about still having to call the supplier. The timid smile you gave him, eyes full of warm hope, moved something inside him that had been slowly waking up ever since you bumped into him down the street months ago.

For so long, he’d tried to move on. In the end, it turned out that you wanted different things from him, and he had to accept that. Wooyoung couldn’t convince you to stay if you wanted to leave. So, with his heart aching and bursting at the seams with the hope that eventually you’d be back, he let you go. There was no way he could describe how he felt when he saw you again. Surprise struck him, leaving him disoriented for a long moment before his mouth spoke for him. As if his body had reacted to the presence of yours, remembering what it felt like to have you close.

No, Wooyoung wasn’t surprised that he so readily welcomed you back into his life. You were trying, that much he could see, but he was, too. There was a battle going on inside his head that left him frustrated and confused when it came to you, to his feelings for you. His thoughts laid their armor down only in your presence. His heart knew you were the only one he’d ever truly loved. A love that bloomed at the wrong time, a fragile flower that didn’t survive the winter. Wilted and withered, you’d left him to mend the gashes.

He did, only if it meant learning how to be without you, burning with the hope that one day, if the time was right, together you could grow flowers anew.

The chance was right there for him to take, and yet. It had taken him just a couple of hours after closing the kitchen to decide he needed to see you, and set things straight once and for all.

“What are you doing here?”

The sun was just about to set, gilded light flowing into your apartment from the window, bathing you in its gold. Wooyoung’s breath caught. For a fleeting instant, nothing else existed besides your confused pout and his erratic heartbeat.

“Can we talk?”

You nodded, opening the door wider to let him in, gesturing for him to follow to the kitchen. The sweet aroma hit him first, enveloping him, and he saw the cutting board in the sink after. It didn’t take him long to figure out you were making blackberry jam.

“You’re stressed,” the words left his lips before he could realize he’d spoken them, your head jerking in his direction as you kept stirring the pot, only to nod right after.

“Well, yeah, the opening’s just around the corner now and we-” your eyes fell back on the stove, briefly avoiding his. “What did you want to talk about?”

Wooyoung hesitated. He didn’t know. Rather, he was sure he needed to make things right. Clean the suffocating air of uncertainty when it came to you and what you were to him. What he was to you. You two were always good at dancing in the dark but now, in the light of day, it was hard to fall back into rhythm.

“I’m sorry about the noodles,” he bit his tongue. Way to start.

How could he say what he wanted to when his head was on fire? Still, you were there, waiting, occasionally stirring your jam, making his heart skip. Wooyoung sighed.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of you leaving.”

Your hand halted its gentle movements, he saw your knuckles turning white.

“Wooyoung-”

“No, let me say this,” he was pretty sure his lungs almost failed him when you turned to look at him, wide eyed, hanging onto his words. “I don’t really know how to act around you. At first, I wanted to be mad. Just a little bit, but found out quickly that after the anger was gone, there wasn’t much left. Just the part of me that wondered if you’d ever come back, if you missed me like I missed you. And if I push all the confusion back, it’s as easy as breathing. I never expected to want you with me as much as I do.”

You turned off the flame, walking closer.

“I never meant you any harm,” you were picking at your fingers, almost subconsciously, just like Wooyoung’s hand reached out to twine with yours, halting your nervous motions. “I‘m sorry that I let you down, and that I hurt you.”

“I know,” he squeezed your hand with a small sigh, eyes cast on them. “We weren’t meant to last.”

The words bitterly echo in the quiet kitchen, almost lost in the burbling coming from the stove. Wooyoung was tempted to let go of your hand and walk out the door, fragile like a house of cards, as if it cost him his whole heart to tell you the truth. To expose his confusion in fear it may be an imposition.

“No, Woo, not when I was so confused and only put my dreams first. Not when we had so much that we would’ve held each other from,” your watery smile hit him square in the chest, your words feeding his worries. “But I think we were always meant to be. I still… I’ve always held so much love for you.”

Wooyoung stopped breathing, letting the sweet taste of your words wash over him.

“Can we start over?” you asked, tentative, searching his face for any sign that you may have crossed a line. “I want to be by your side, at your pace, we’ll be whatever you want us to be. I wasn't ready then but I am now, and I know it'll take time but I want you to know that I'll be there. No matter how long, I'll always be there.”

The unruled hope, that he’d been fighting to keep at bay, finally broke free and sparked a fire in his chest that swallowed up his heart, holding it in a fierce grip, burning. Your hopeful, misty eyes told him more than words could, more than he could ever dare to imagine. He had longed to see them from this close again.

“Didn’t you say that mixing feelings with work is the recipe for disaster?”

Behind the carelessly amused shrug of your shoulders, your untamed smile shined with bright happiness. The hand that wasn’t holding his tentatively rose to cup his cheek and Wooyoung wasted no time in leaning in and basking in its warmth.

“I think we’d make it.”

Your promise was enough for him. Wooyoung rested his forehead against yours, finding home in your sweet perfume once again. You were finally back into his arms, to hold and to love. Once your lips met his hesitantly, almost afraid at first but feverishly at last, the sweet and pleasantly tart taste of your kiss assured his head and heart that everything would be alright.

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