#reply to every single one of ur opens I LOVE THEM SM

[lifeiskentastic]

plsplspls write more sebastian fluff <33 i love ur writing sm

sorry for taking so long(

gn!Reader leads a drunken Seb out of his bar

Gif by @dilfgifs

A/N: Thank you all for your replies, you are so sweet 😭😭 I would reply to every single one of them but I started this blog as a side blog just to post one fic and I never thought it would go this far… anyway, thank you sm!

Summary: A friend (but not for long) Reader helps Seb after he gets drunk in his own bar;

Word count: small but concise 360 words;

Thanks for y'all again!

"How did you manage to get drunk in your own bar?"

Seb's head jerked around on your shoulder, nearly knocking you both to the ground. Still, it was a bit impractical to carry a drunken, grown man on the neck.

"I'm not drunk at all..."

The light laughter that followed these words indicated the opposite.

"Tell me that tomorrow morning."

After all, now that your friend had decided to drink himself into oblivion in his own bar, you would have to take care of him until the sun came up, until the first sober thought entered his head.

You would have been walking quietly through the empty, deserted park with Sebastian hanging on your shoulders, if not for the suspiciously strange silence from someone who had just spilled an entire bottle of whiskey into himself.

"Are you okay?"

You stopped and cautiously looked over your shoulder, meeting Seb's floating, mindless eyes.

"You look beautiful."

You blushed instantly, but kept your eyes on Sebastian. It's not that he's never complimented you before, it's just that right now he seemed so sincerely uninhibited and honest that your heart had to flutter.

"You too."

Seb's satisfied smile tripled in size. He relaxed his head on your shoulder, watching you from under his half-open eyelids.

There was something special about walking through the starry park at night, with the pungent smell of alcohol around Sebastian and his loving gaze fixed only on you.

You wonder how much of this will remain in Seb's memory after he sobered up? Well, judging by his sly look, he clearly knew how to keep that beautiful moment in his head.

"You're not that drunk, are you?"

"Oh." Sebastian's hands, which you had been holding to prevent him from accidentally losing his balance while faking drunkenness, closed on your cheekbones. "How did you manage to expose me?"

"You're a terrible actor." Although, in fact, you were glad that Seb's words and actions were done in good faith and with full understanding. "I can't believe you made me drag you."

"Ha-ha, I'm sorry, I was just enjoying it too much."

You couldn't help but agree.

P.S. Oh, what a plot twist!

#sebastian wilder x you #sebastian wilder x reader #sebastian wilder #lalaland fanfiction #la la land #fanfiction #fluff fic #ryan gosling #ryan gosling fanfiction #ryan gosling x reader #gn reader #x reader #fic

[mrs-monaghan]

https://www.tumblr.com/mrs-monaghan/717429147598749696/im-kinda-confusedcurious-about-something-weve

I saw this and had to reply! Ok so i feel like there is so many things we as I-army are not taking into consideration.

1: Reason For Tae’s Actions: Now it may seem very unlikely to us I-Army but it is possible that Tae really has no alterior motives with his recent Jk name dropping! It is very possible that he is just very excited about the fact that he finally gets to spend good quality time with Jk after they grew apart some years ago! Nothing he has ever said has in anyway implied he and Jk could be more than friends to anyone who is reasonable! Compare the things Tae says about Jk and the things Jimin use to say about Jk. Very different! Tae will tell us stuff like he was playing games with Jk, or that him Jk and some friends had a drink or that he was supposed to travel with Jk etc! Think about it. Are those not the same things you will tell people about you and your besty’s activities? Tkkrs are the ones who like to read alot into every little thing! Tae tells us Jk recommended a song to him, Tkkrs go listen to the song, analyze the hell out of the lyrics and say that was TK coming out! How is that Tae’s fault? Now for Jimin, Jimin told us Jk hugs him to sleep, He promised to go to the moon with Jk, “hyungs may think Jk is only a donsaeng to me”, “we haven’t showered yet”, Jk comes to my room 3 times a day, i want to go on a date with Jk, i want to go to the beach with Jk holding hands, Jk showers for 50 mins, Jimin also explains Jk sleeping habits saying things like “he starts by opening his mouth like this, then he goes like thisss, then be does thissss” Jk give me a kiss etc! Do you see the difference? Everything Tae says is withing friend/ besty levels but Jimin actually says alot of things which don’t need any analysis! The only reason some Jkkrs are upset about Tae’s name dropping is not because he actually says anything that implies him and Jk are more than friends, it is just because by constantly name dropping Jk, that gets the cult riled up an they start coming up with their ridiculous theories!

2:They might not be as aware as we think: Also, it is very possible that these boys are just not aware of how bad things are on the I-army side! Why do i see this? Now go watch the TK vlive from 2020, the carnation Live, on that Live, Jk sees Taekook and he yells out “Taekook” excitedly and then Tae goes Taekook? Looking a lil confused and then Jk tells him “they say we are Taekook”! Now they coined this names themselves years ago, but we had actually never heard them refer to themselves as Taekook b4 this live, so u might ask “if they made the name, why did it look like they couldn’t remember it? Well that is what is seemed like! Tae was clearly confused about the name so Jk had to tell him “they said we are Taekook” when he could have said “don’t you remember our name Taekook”? See the difference? It’s possible that they had forgotten because I don’t see why they would have reacted like that if they really remembered the name! So from this, i think they may know that their ship is the biggest in the world but they just don’t how bad things are on this side! Their SM might be curated to viewing and interacting with mostly korean and maybe Japanese fans! Jikook is the biggest ship in Korea, reason why they have Jikook themed restaurants or cafe’s in many places but you wouldn’t find a single Taekook themed Cafe, there are ofcourse Tkkrs in Korea but they don’t ship them as lovers, not after Tae’s get out of ur imagination anyway! It is just pple who love their bond and friendship but Jikook is what most koreans know. There is no way Jk will be fully aware of all the hate that Jimin gets because of TK and not do anything about it! No way! Even Tae, there is no way he will be aware of all the chaos his name dropping does and still continues! Tae is mysterious but I don’t think he is an evil person cuz only a truly evil person will do that!

3: Like Shaz said, perception: TK are just not perceived as a couple by a majority of koreans! There is literally NOTHING they do that could make koreans perceive them as such! They have hung out alot lately yes, but how does that make them a couple? Friends hang out alot! Jikook have hung out alot alone and with others, spent alot of couple holidays and holidays in general together, spent birthdays together, worn matching outfits on couple holidays, their tones with eo, their mannerisms with eo, them being spotted together alone eating at odd times of the night, etc! So when you compare the two, u see that TK really don’t do anything that could make koreans percieve them as a couple! Just Jk sitting in the comfort of his home and doing a Jimin centered Live thew K-army’s into a frenzy! That says alot!! Even the Jk is Taehyung’s wife Joke you said you saw on TV is just that, a joke! At the premiere Jk did look like Tae’s wife, with his hair and shyness and all😂😂. It’s the same way back in the day, koreans used to call Jimin Jk’s mom because of the way Jimin took care of Jk like a mother takes care of her child! Did that mean Jimin was actually Jk’s mom? NO!

So Tae and Jk being themselves is not in anyway calling for any attention on them because Koreans know and understand their relationship! Also even though you don’t want to hear it anon, TK can hang out as much as they want without fear cuz there is NOTHING to hide! Absolutely nothing! The government can dig all they want, sasaengs can dig all they want but they won’t find anything incriminating!

Now this might be an unpopular opinion but i still think i should mention it! I don’t really think Jikook are laying low because of the military! I really don’t! I don’t think they are laying low at all! This is just jikook in hibernation of sorts! It was different before because we always had content but not now! If they were laying low, Jk wouldn’t have done that Jimin centered live, if they were laying low, Jimin wouldn’t have hugged Jk like that in that BTB they just wouldn’t! Jk wouldn’t have replied to Jimin’s “I Miss U” on weverse and he definitely wouldn’t have spammed Jimin’s live with all the comments! When u think of these, u see that claiming that they are laying low doesn’t make sense! This is jikook in a state we haven’t seen b4 cuz we always had content! It’s different, unfamiliar and strange but it is them! Jimin doesn’t really seem to be hanging out with anyone these days! Seems he is getting his most deserved rest after working hard for 10 months on his album! It is also possible that he is still a lil busy with work we have no idea about! We all had no clue abt Angel part 1, and we don’t know what else he may be working on! Jk on the other hand is in his going out phase! He shouldn’t lock himself in just because Jimin doesn’t want to or isn’t able to hang out, thats not how healthy relationships work! He can hang out with other pple as much as he likes to and then go back home to Jimin or meet him when he can!

If anyone has really paid attention, JM and Jk together have never really been the two who like going out alot! Over the years we have seen them out a few time but lets be honest, where? We saw them on the streets walking, waiting for a taxi, at the train station, at the movies, ice skating etc, and they told us they both prefer to chill at home and Jimin really hasn’t been in his hanging out streak for the longest time! We have only seen him out when he absolutely needed to be, maybe for like supporting his friends or loved ones, or for work! Unlike Tae, Jimin really hasn’t just gone out with friends for bowling, musicals, concerts,ice skating in a good while! Its been way too long he did stuff like that and i think we forget this sometimes! Also, if u were Jimin and Jk, I would u rather hang indoors where u can be free to do what u want or would u rather spend all ur time out where u can’t really be urselves? Think about it! Jikook have always been home bodies, they used to spend alot of time in eo rooms or they go out to little discreet restaurants to eat or drink! That’s it! Tae is more the flamboyant onw who likes winning and dinning out but Jimin prefers the more simple places! So i really don’t think they are laying low! They are being more cautious for sure, especially with all the stalking going on especially with Jk but I wouldn’t say they are laying low!

You've made alot of sense anon, i'm not gonna lie. Let me first quickly applaude that.

Especially in terms of Vminkook and the fact that they may be missing the I-army hate train. While we dk if that's truly the case, I can admit that its highly possible.

Now, here is why I think they're laying low and how I think it might be partly because they were told to and partly because they also agree to some extent.

First of all, its established JK doesn't like when the company tells him what to do. Right? Clearly they're supposed to go live only after its been approved and JK is not supposed to drink when live and he does both those things. Then more or less says "what are they gonna do, fire me?" Then we have the GCFs. Say what u may but JK stopped doing them because he lost the passion for it along the way. And the reason this happened was because his GCFs turned into work. Suddenly BH was using him to promote summer packages, their trips, etc. Basically BH took over, it started feeling like work, it needed to be approved so JK couldn't even do what he wanted, and so I think he just said "fuck it." And stopped. I'm not speculating btw he said it himself

Then we have Jimin who used to be the king of twitter. Most active member and who did he used to post the most? His bae.

And the bigger they got, the more attention it ganerned and suddenly Jimin just stopped. When they were young Jimin said what he looks for in a girlfriend, is someone who loves taking selfies because he loves taking selfies. He said his future girlfriend must be willing to take lots of photos. And which member does he have hundreds of photos with? That's right. JK. So for him to just stop doesn't make sense to me. So I think he was told to tone it down or stop posting JK so much and so he was also like "fuck it. If I can't post what I want then I ain't posting, period."

What I'm I getting at? I think the company may have asked them to lay low.

Why do I think they're laying low? Because if they weren't they would be back to sharing cars and being spotted everywhere and they wouldn't be going out to eat at midnight and they would just be as loud as they were in the past. Yes, the invasion of privacy does also have alot to do with it. Someone stealing Jimin's mail is no small thing. They were after something. There's always someone after something. So Jikook have to be even more careful now because if anything gets discovered things won't be good for them inside.

"But Shaz, JK did a Jimin live" "But they've been commenting on each other's lives" I hear you. I do. But a) we've established JK will do what JK wants and b) Maybe sometimes they get tired of hiding and decide to be defiant a little bit. Who knows? It must suck to go from showing the world what u mean to each other to doing essentially nothing. Like 100 to 0, there was no in between. I can't see them being happy about this. Even if they agree its for their own good.

They each have their own places but I wouldn't be surprised if they're not living together 24/7 like in the past. I would bank on that actually.

Guys, you'll remember this in 2025 when they go back to normal and this isn't the case anymore. I'm telling you.

Y'all have already noticed there's specific pairings that are being pushed by the company. I keep going back to the Busan ad which btw has 105M views. Fucking hell

But how is it not strange to y'all that they used Suga and not JK? BH had to problem pairing Jikook in the past. Heck, they loved to capitalise on their chemistry. But when it comes to promoting Busan they use Yoonmin? Really? Instead of the two members who are actually from Busan? Make it make sense

Same people who did this

Suddenly don't wanna use the Busan boys to do a Busan ad. Yeah... okay.

Anon, we can agree to disagree on the laying low thing. But something smells fishy to me.

#ask shaz #bts ask #jikook #jimin and jungkook #jimin #jungkook #kookmin

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

eeeek chap 14 was amazing!!! kinda need y/n to still want to leave and azriel to be groveling for her to stay tho 😩 and plz someone bitch slap Elain 💀

I saw somewhere you said it’ll end at around 17 and I’m excited to see how it ends (would def be open to alternate endings too 👀 if u decide to write them! i feel like killian is the only male who hasn’t fucked y/n up so I’d be open to them being endgame HAHAH) but I’ll also miss getting on here every day just to check the new update for the series 😭 but anywho I will continue checking ur future fics out for sure!!

Thank you sm love! 🥹all the support I’ve had for this has been incredible and I really do appreciate all the comments, reblogs, asks, etc 💕I wish I could reply to every individual comment on each part but then the parts would never get written! But I love reading them sm, every single one makes me smile 🥹

Thank you for reading and I cannot wait to post future fics as well! ❤️

#ask

[thewrldx]

Hi i love ur work! Can i request a vinnie smut wherein they just finished having sex n vinnie tells her to just keep his cum inside her (maybe leaking thru her lingerie idk) n then they go down to socialize with other hype members n it gets y/n n vinnie horny again bc its very sexy n all that + d ppl dont know whats up lol + y/ns being such a tease abt it AAAA can it also have lots of dirty talk 😮‍💨🏃‍♀️ thank u sm! I appreciate it.

behave | v.h

!warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral, dirty talk, daddy kink, spanking

navigation | v.h masterlist

“oh vinnie” you moaned out, “please fill me up”

“who?” he grunted in response, speeding up his thrusts.

“d-daddy” you stuttered out, unable to form complete sentences due to the pleasure.

“what do you want?” you didn’t respond, overwhelmed from the stimulation. he gripped your jaw forcing you to make eye contact. “answer me.”

“i w-want your cum so b-bad”

“such a pretty little slut, always wanting my cum. you want me to fuck my babies deep inside you? huh angel?”

“y-yes please.” you replied, feeling your orgasm approaching quickly. vinnie noticed and kissed your neck, trailing them to your ear lobe before whispering, “cum for daddy”

you felt yourself come undone by his words, raking your nails down his back and moaning his name. the clenching of your tight cunt was enough to send him over the edge cumming deep inside you, coating your walls.

he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavy and matching your own. he met your eyes and kissed you passionately before slowly pulling out. he glanced down at the pretty mess, tracing his fingers around your folds making you squirm.

“keep this cum inside of you.” he states sternly, getting off of the bed and throwing you the black lacy panties he had previously ripped off. “and you better behave when we go down to hang out with everyone.”

the way he spoke to you made you want him more and more. as he started toward the bathroom he made one last look at you. “understand?” he asks.

“yes vin.” you respond.

“good girl. now get over here.” you quickly slid your thong and shuffling to the bathroom. you stood in front of vinnie watching his eyes wandering over your body and stopping at your clothed mess. he smirked making you look down. his seed had soaked your panties and began to drip down your leg.

“you look so good right now gorgeous, i wish i could fuck the shit out of you all day.” his hand reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “but we have plans. get dressed.”

-

downstairs you began to socialize with everyone else, acting as if you didn’t just get fucked into the next universe. however, the feeling of vinnie’s cum dripping slightly out everytime you stood was making you impossibly horny again. you know you told vin you would be on your best behavior but you couldn’t help the feeling between your legs.

you walked over to him on the couch and sat next to him, he smiled gently and put his arm around you. you scooted closer to him before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“are you having a good time?” he asked, you nodded and put your hand on his thigh, trying to send him a signal. he ignored it.

“can i sit in your lap baby?” you stuck your lip out, pouting, making it difficult for him to say no. once on his lap you guided his hands to your hips and very subtly adjusted yourself so his member was against your core.

“what are you doing y/n?” vinnie whispered, tone of voice dropping.

“i was just getting comfortable relax.” you smirked knowing that you would get him to fold any minute now. you once again started to slowly grind yourself on him feeling his pants tighten beneath you. his hands grip your hips tightly. closing his eyes.

“upstairs. now.” he growls in your ear, gently pushing you off of him. you wave bye to your friends before slowly walking up the stairs being sure to sway your hips just right as you felt vinnie’s eyes on your every movement.

vinnie apologized to everyone making up an excuse about you not feeling well. everyone looked at each other and shrugged as vinnie headed up the stairs behind you.

in the room he shuts the door and clicks the lock slowly walking to you on the bed.

“you couldn’t ever wait an hour you little slut.”

“i didn’t even do anything-“ he grabs your face, cutting you off.

“don’t even finish that sentence baby girl. i told you to behave.”

his words were harsh and you knew you were about to get punished. the excitement between your legs was growing rapidly but you weren’t going to let him know that.

“i’m sorry vinnie.” you apologized he shook his head.

“you’re going to regret being such a tease.” he smiled, “you just want me to fuck you like the little whore you are don’t you princess? not behaving so you can have this dick right?”

“yes daddy.” you responded. he knew you like the back of his hand.

“good baby, now turn around” you gulped knowing what you were about get, and hesitated to do so.

“i don’t think i asked you a question. turn. around.”

you obeyed him turning around, his hands quickly ripped off your skirt leaving you in the soaked black panties from your wetness and his cum from earlier. he gently rubbed your ass cheeks, the coolness of the metal from his rings making you flinch.

“how many should i give you for being bad baby?” he asks.

“10”

“no baby” he laughs “little sluts get more than 10 spankings for being bad. how about 20?”

he didn’t even give you a chance to respond before his hand roughly collided with your ass. the sudden action making you gasp.

“count.”

“o-one.” you obeyed. as the words flowed out another slap was placed. the sound echoed off the walls.

“two.” another. “three” another.

it seemed as if the spanking was never ending. the pain was unbearable but at the same time the pleasure was. you felt yourself getting wet with every single slap.

“t-twen-ty” you moaned out. he gently rubbed his hand over your now red and bruised ass.

“you were such a good girl for me.” he says, trailing his hand down to your panties, pushing them aside. “do you think you should be rewarded pretty?”

“please.” you whimper, he then inserts two fingers into you soaking core. you moan at the much needed touch.

“you’re dripping baby.” he grunts, “you love being punished don’t you?”

he thrusts his fingers fast, and rubs your clit with his thumb. the feeling in your stomach builds embarrassingly fast.

“vin i’m gonna-“ he then pulls out his fingers, delaying you from your orgasm. before you could complain he sticks his fingers in your mouth.

“you taste so good baby don’t you think?” you suck his fingers tasting yourself. you can tell that this arouses him even more.

“fuck get on your knees”

you obey him, scrambling to your knees. you watch in awe as he strips himself. god he looks so good. he pulls out his hard member, stroking himself a few times.

“you just gonna stare or you gonna let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours?” you open your mouth wide in response. vinnie quickly pushes his tip to your lips in which you wrap them around.

you suck and lick at the pre cum before your hair is gripped and pulled back, forcing you to make eye contact with vin.

“no teasing.” he pushes your head back toward his member on which you take him in your mouth. he lets out a low moan in response. he begins to slowly thrust his hips, making his cock hit the back of your throat. your eyes water as you gag, black tears fall down your cheeks from your eyeliner.

“you’re such a pretty mess.” he groans, “i love to fuck this pretty mouth.” his thrusts speed up, you moan at the feeling causing him to twitch into your mouth. you reach up to play with his balls, pushing him over the edge.

“oh fuck babe.” he moans, shooting his load down your throat. you suck a little before pulling off with a pop and swallowing all his seed. he then pulls you up to mash your lips together. the makeout is sloppy, intense and full of lust. you are gently pushed back on the bed, careful not to break your kiss. you feel his member becoming hard once again against your thigh.

“you want this cock pretty?” he asks reaching down to rub it against your clit. you moan in response.

“use your words baby. i’ll give you want you want.”

“fuck please.” you whimper.

“please what?”

“please fuck me daddy, i want your dick so badly. i need it.” accepting your begging, he slams himself into you making no time for you to adjust to his size.

your moans are loud and pornographic, making vinnie confident. he leans down and begins to suck on your nipple. the sensation enough to send you over the edge.

“daddy f-fuck.” you moan out, “i’m going to cum.”

pulling his lips away from your nipple, he speeds up his thrusts before responding, “no.”

“please i can’t hold it anymore.” you beg, your orgasm approaching very quickly.

“you can and you will.” he grunts, “unless you want to be punished some more.”

his thrusts are fast but becoming sloppy letting you know that he’s close, you clench yourself around him receiving a low groan from him.

“do that shit again.”

you clench around his cock once more, the pit in your stomach going to release itself any minute now. he notices and leans down, whispering in your ear. “cum with daddy baby, i want you to cum all over my cock.”

his words instantly lead you to your release, you moan out his name and tug at his perfect locks as you cum. vinnie fucks you through your orgasm before twitching inside you.

“fuck angel-“ he cuts himself off with a loud moan, shooting his second load of the day into you. he thrusts it deeper into you before slowly pulling out. he watches as his seed spills out of you and leans down to press a kiss to your clit. you gently push his head away, sensitive from your previous orgasm. he smirks before holding your hips down.

“think you can cum for me one more time princess?” he asks, kissing on and around your heat.

“n-no.” you stutter out.

“that’s too bad.” his mouth is immediately connected with your pussy, tongue lapping at your clit. you scream in pleasure as you pull at his hair.

he inserts his finger in you, still sucking your bud and curls them perfectly hitting your sweet spot. your orgasm approaches very fast, feeling yourself already coming undone on him.

“i’m cumming daddy.” you shout, squishing his face between your thighs. he pulls away from you, looking at your sweaty exhausted body laying on the bed.

he walks toward to bathroom and comes back with a cloth. he cleans up the mess softly before laying down next to you. he rolls your body on top of his, your face connected to his sweaty chest. you trace your finger along his tattoos as vinnie strokes your hair. he pressed a small kiss to your forehead.

“i love you y/n”

“i love you vin.”

a/n: i hope this is something that you wanted! this is one of my longer smuts i made soo idk how good it is

#vinnie #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie smut #vinnie hacker #vinnie imagines #smut #request

[quindolyn]

hi love! I’m in love w ur blog, Could u do a marauders smut w an obedient sub james and a bratty sun reader and like punishment w dom remus and james? (sorry if that was confusing)

She’ll Never Learn || Poly!Marauders

Word Count: 3612

A/N: I kinda like this piece, we’ll see. In the course of writing this piece I was delayed a good hour because my laptop died on me and I broke my charging cable earlier today so that’s a whole shit show and I had to finish this on my school computer. That’s how much I love you guys. And a special thank you to everyone who bullied me, I still procrastinated for another 1-2 hours after that.

Warnings: face slapping, words like stupid and slut used, male penetration, exhibitionist kink, dom/sub, degradation, poly obviously, i’m tired please tell me if there’s any that I missed

Masterlist

Part 2

The fact you couldn’t do it was half the fun. For you anyways, the whole thing seemed to make James nervous, he’d broken a few rules here and there before but never had he been so conscious of the disobedience he was about to take part in.

“Our Daddies are gonna be mad if they catch us,” James grumbled as you pulled him up the staircase to the boy’s dorm, dragging him by the sleeve of his school issued button-up. 

Had he put up any resistance he would’ve easily been able to cease your assent up the staircase, his body strong and toned from Quidditch but he didn’t, he allowed himself to be pulled up the stairs to the dorm room he shared with Sirius and Remus.

“Well neither of them have to know, now do they?” You asked him as you opened the door to their dorm which they kept tidy for you, knowing that you couldn’t stand mess.

As you kicked the door closed behind you and toed off your shoes you caught a glimpse of the boy’s face as he studied your form unabashedly as you started expertly undoing the buttons on your top before shrugging it off your shoulders and letting it pool at your feet.

“Come on Jamie,” You cooed mockingly as you strode towards him, his eyes glued to your breasts, “If they don’t know about this then we can have fun, it’s so hard with them sometimes isn’t it, with them getting in the way?” You watched his Adam’s apple bob as you played with the scarlet material of his tie, teasingly tugging on it. 

“But if they find out-”

You cut him off by pulling him down by his tie, melding your lips with his, though he was considerably taller than you he bent all the way down to kiss you, becoming pliable in your hands as you ran your fingers through his raven tresses.

Lacing your hands together at the back of his head, interweaving your fingers with his fluffy curls you pulled slightly, resulting in the man’s mouth to open as a gentle groan tumbled from his lips. You smirked into the kiss, knowing that you had won as you backed yourself up towards one of the beds in the room, you allowed yourself to sit when your knees bumped up against the mattress. 

“Want this off,” You muttered, clumsily working on undoing his tie until you were able to pull it off of him. “This too,” You said, already starting on the top button of his shirt.

Having pushed the pesky garment off of his broad shoulders you took a moment to run the palms of your hands up and down the smooth muscles of his muscled chest. Goosebumps rose under your touch as he leaned in towards you.

“Good boy,” You murmured, throwing your head back against the pillow, knowing that the praise would do just the trick to convince him to break the rules with you. Corrupting him, now that was also a part of the fun for you, little old Jamie would’ve never fathomed doing something like this if you hadn’t convinced him, there was just something so undeniably hot about the way you could so easily manipulate him. The way that with two simple words we was a whimpering mess with his mouth latched on your nipple.

You whined as he lifted his mouth moving it to the other nipple both at the loss of contact and then the new found stimulation.

James didn’t hear the opening and the closing of the door from behind him, too focused on sucking on the delicate flesh of your tit but you did, Remus and Sirius had caught you. Smirking to yourself you realized that if you worked the next ten or so seconds correctly you would be in for a treat. 

“Jamie!” You moaned, dramatically thrusting your chest up into his mouth, “Feels so good when you suck my tit Jamsie, making me so wet.” Deciding laying it on extra thick was only going to help your mission: you wrapped your legs around James’ waist and started thrusting your hips into his. 

“Can you believe these two?” The dark haired man asked his partner incredulously, “Did you give them permission to do this?”

At the sound of Sirius’ voice James jumped off of you, a guilty look gracing his face as he immediately dropped to his knees in front of them, not even wiping the spit from his mouth.

“No Pads,” Remus responded, his eyes on James rather than Sirius, a frown took over his face as he moved his gaze to your half naked form, “Did you?”

“Nope,” Sirius replied, popping his p as he stuck his hands into the front pockets of his trousers, lazily sauntering over to where James sat subserviently on the ground, “Thought you were my good boy Jamie, what happened?” He asked in a sickly sweet sort of voice that had James in a puddle at his feet and you rolling your eyes back in your head, not noticing Remus’ piercing gaze set on you. If you paid close enough attention, the tension radiating off the man was suffocating but Remus had always been able to blend into his surroundings, making it all the more startling when he pounced.

James’ response came in the form of a pathetic little whine as Sirius turned his face up to meet him with his index finger, the boy was malleable in the other man’s grasp. 

“Come on, answer Daddy’s question, don’t be a brat,” At the very mention of the word brat James’ eyes snapped up to Sirius’, that was his worst nightmare, being a brat, failing either Sirius or Remus. It terrified him, and Sirius knew James like the back of his hand. 

“M’sorry, m’so, so sorry I didn’t want to break the rules but (Y/N) said that it would be okay, that we wouldn’t get caught and then she kissed me and-” He rambled, his hands nervously tumbling about each other in his lap, his gaze never wavering from Sirius.

“Pathetic slut,” You swore, stalking off from the bed to where Sirius stood in front of James, “You were just as into it as I was, both of us broke the rules don’t try to back out now, don’t be a bad boy Jamie.”

You opened your mouth to continue but you were cut off by a sharp slap to the side of your face as Sirius’ hand met your cheek.

“Ow,” You whimpered, clutching the side of your face in your hand as you glared at Sirius, taking a step back towards the bed, “What was that for?”

“Oh don’t act stupid, you know that you get punished when you break the rules Puppy. And calling James a bad boy,” His eyes softened as he tore them from you, moving them to gaze down at the boy who still knelt at his feet, “You’re not a bad boy are you Jamie?”

He shook his head silently, eyes locked onto Sirius’.

“He’s acting like one, throwing me under the bus,” You grumbled, still rubbing the side of your face. 

“Did anyone say you could talk?” Remus questioned you, his voice oddly calm as he strode towards you, in no time at all reaching your body.

He raised a hand to the side of your you were clutching, coaxing away your hand to replace it with his own. He ran the palm of his hand over the flesh before pulling it back to bring it against your face, more harshly than Sirius had.

The action pulled a whine from your throat as your flesh was abused by the calloused palm of Remus’ hand. In a second he had adjusted his hand so that it was gripping your jaw, using his hold on you there to tug your entire body closer to his person.

“You really expect us to fucking buy that,” He squished your cheeks together harder and harder with every passing second, “Jamsie has always been our best boy, you on the other hand Puppy, you’ve got a bit of a bratty side to you.”

“It’s not fair,” You tried to wiggle yourself out of Remus’ grasp, moving your hands to grapple at his wrist, trying to pull away from him but he was unmoving, not only being much taller than you but much stronger than you, your efforts were in vain, “He broke the rules too, he’s not your good boy he’s a fucking slut!”

“That’s it!” Sirius’ voice rang through the dorm, still positioned next to James who still sat on the floor now with his fingers entangled in the other boy’s dark curls, “On the bed, now.” His command left no room for argument as Remus let go of your face, but you just stood there, not moving until he gave you a not so gentle nudge towards the bed you had previously been seated upon.

You had to stop yourself from trembling as you sat upon the bed, it wasn’t that you were scared. No, this was exactly what you had hoped for, you were giddy.

“If anyone here is desperate, puppy it’s you, look at this,” Sirius sneered, pushing your legs apart so that your bare pussy was on display, just as you had forgone a bra you had decided to go without panties, anticipating this moment. “No panties,” He tutted, crouching down so that he was level with your pussy as he boldly ran a finger through your sopping folds, “You planned this didn’t you?” HIs eyes darted up to meet yours and with a single glance he knew.

“Course she planned it, Pads,” Remus chimed in from where he leaned against the frame of one of the other beds, “Are you just now figuring that out? Our puppy thought she could break the rules and we’d make her feel good, thought she’d enjoy her punishment.”

As his words washed over you you felt a wave of disappointment, they weren’t going to give you what you wanted.

Sensing your disappointment Sirius recaptured your jaw in his hand, “Don’t pout baby, you’re gonna take your punishment like a good girl, yeah?”

Putting on your best “James face” eye wide and pleading, lips pushed out in a small pout, head cocked to the side you extended a single hand to grope at Sirius’ crotch, squeezing his clothed member in the palm of your hand.

“Daddy,” You begged, knowing that you were breaking another rule, touching them without permission. 

Remus rolled his eyes and was at your side in the blink of an eye, wrenching your hand away from Sirius’ bulge, “You know you’re not allowed to touch without permission,” He scolded as though he was bored with your insolent behavior. “Did you forget?”

“No, Daddy,” You shook your head looking up at him as Sirius’ adjusted so that your head was turned towards the other man.

Remus’ hold on your wrist tightened, “Oh, so you just decided to break the rules?”

You stuttered, not quite sure how to answer his question, “I-I…”

“That’s what I thought,” He spat, letting go of your wrist so that it could land on your thigh, not bothering to look over his shoulder he spoke to James, instead keeping his eyes on you, “Jamie, can you pull up the armchair for me?”

Rushing to obey, James squeaked out a small “yes” before pulling the aforementioned chair to the foot of the bed before redirected by Remus to place it by the side of the bed. You couldn’t help but ogle the boy as he moved about the room, well developed muscles rippling under his skin as he stretched and twisted his body.

“Up,” Remus ordered you with a flick of his wrist towards the chair you were pulled from your seat and dragged to the chair by some invisible force. With another flick of his wrist you were positioned to his liking, legs spread and thrown over the arms of the chair, arms linked together behind your back and as you tried to tug yourself out of that position you found you were immobile. Remus and his fucking talent for wandless magic.

“I’m uncomfortable, Daddy,” You trilled, trying to move in your seat and failing tremendously. 

“What did we say about talking?” Sirius scoffed at you undoing the buttons on his uniform shirt one at a time until he was able to shed his clothing.

“Jamsie, could you grab me a vibrator, the purple one?” Remus asked as he too rid himself of his shirt.

Being the dutiful boy he was, James promptly handed Remus the small clit vibrator who idly played with the switch, turning it on and then back off for a few seconds before his stern gaze lifted to your form and a small smirk graced his face. 

“Pads?” The werewolf turned to look at the boy, “You wanna do the honors?”

Sirius grinned like an idiot as he slid the toy from his lover’s hand, slipping it onto your clit before turning it on, placing a light sticking charm on you as to ensure the toy would stay put. 

“No cumming unless we say so, do you understand Puppy?” Everything about him from the tone of his voice to his eyes mocked you as he spoke, letting you know he was having way too much fun with this.

You managed a small nod but couldn’t help but jolt at the sudden pleasure that coursed through you as the vibrations of the vibrator stimulated your clit. If you had been physically capable you would’ve bucked your hips up but that being impossible left the pleasure to only fester more as the itch to move intensified the ecstasy setting deep in your bones.

Being so distracted by the stimulation on your clit you almost missed as Remus took James’ face in his hands and meshed their lips together, pushing his tongue into the smaller boy’s mouth, Remus dug his hands in his hair. The moan that James released as Remus tugged on his locks must’ve made Sirius feel left out because in a second he was behind the two boys tugging Remus’ face away from James’, interlocking his lips with the taller man’s, he replaced Remus’ hands in James’ hair with his own.

“Daddy,” You whined, not addressing either of them particularly just wanting attention. 

“Shush, they’re giving me attention right now,” James said to you, looking to the other two boys for approval at his show of dominance.

Remus granted such, pulling away from his kiss with Sirius to extoll him, “Good boy Jamie, putting Puppy in her place.”

Getting the approval he craved at all times a gigantic grin cracked across his face, “May I touch you Daddy?” 

“Yes you may, good boy.”

Not wasting a single second, as eager as ever, James lunged towards the larger boy, attaching his lips to his pulse point, gently sucking small marks that bloomed in brilliant shades of blue and purple along the side of his neck.

The distinct clink of metal drew your attention to Sirius where he stood undoing his belt allowing him to drop his trousers, leaving him only in a pair of dark grey boxers which proudly displayed his prominent bulge. 

Sirius didn’t even spare you a glance as he moved back towards the pair, pressing his erection against James’ back while shamelessly groping his firm ass. James threw his head back onto his shoulder, abandoning Remus’ neck as the erection pressed into him and the hands on his ass overwhelmed him.

“Want inside him Rem,” Sirius groaned while he laved his tongue up and down the expanse of James’ neck, “Need inside of him,” He corrected himself.

“You think you’re ready for us Jamie?” The lycanthrope murmured in his ear, “Are you ready to take our cocks.”

Despite your most valiant efforts a moan escaped from your mouth at Remus’ words, watching James get fucked was one of your most favorite things, he was so beautiful stretched out on one of their cocks, a sobbing, moaning mess as he was split in two. But usually you got to touch him, or Remus, or Sirius, or at the very least yourself. 

The idea of not being able to touch yourself was absolute hell. Throw in the vibrator attached to your clit and your explicit order not to cum you were absolutely fucked as pleasure began to simmer in the pit of your belly, making your orgasm seem less and less far off.

You watched, practically drooling, as your boyfriends disrobed allowing their hard cocks to spring out against their stomachs, each distinctly different from the other but completely mouth watering in their own way. Your boys were perfect, all the way down to the tips of their pricks but something about seeing them in all their perfection and not being able to touch them made you a surprising mix of angry and turned on. Especially when you considered that it was them who had put you there, tied up and horny.

“Can I join Daddies, pretty please?” You begged as you watched James situate himself on the bed on his hands and knees, pushing his ass back towards Remus who was settling in behind him. “I’ll be a good girl I promise!”

“You wanna be a good girl?” Sirius mocked, pumping his cock in his hand to get it harder.

You nodded your head pathetically, giving Sirius the best puppy dog eyes you could muster with the haze settling into your mind.

Remus spoke before Sirius could, his eyes focused on the pool between your legs, “Can’t take you seriously when your pretty pussy is on display for us like that, makes you look almost as pathetic and desperate as you are.”

You groaned at the degradation, turning back to Sirius, even if he did agree to free you you would still need to convince Remus but it would at least be a start.

“If you wanna be a good girl you’re gonna sit there and be quiet while you watch us fuck Jamsie.”

Feeling defeated you wished you could drop your head into your hands, but the full body bind that had been placed on you made it hard to so much as blink.

You watched, despite yourself really, with bated breath as Remus pushed into the warmth of James’ opening, having used a lubrication spell to prepare him. The moan that the boy released went straight to your pussy and made it hard for you to think clearly as you watched him drop from his hands to his elbows before Sirius helped him back up so that he could push his cock into his mouth.

Screw waterboarding, this was a special kind of evil, cruel and unusual. With every sound of skin slapping against skin, the wet gagging noises that came as Sirius forced his cock further and further down James’ throat accompanied by the vibrator still stimulating your clit, it had your body going into overdrive to work to suppress your oncoming orgasm to the point where is was painful.

Before either of your three boyfriends showed any signs that they were even close to their orgasms you were screaming, “Please let me cum, I’ll be a good girl I promise please! I’m so sorry, please forgive me!” 

You sounded piteous.

“Shut up,” Remus threw at you as he picked up his pace in thrusting in and out of James, drinking up his moans like they were the only things keeping him going.

“Please, I’m gonna cum I can’t stop it please!” You cried out, tears rolling down your face at the effort it took you to suppress your climax. You weren’t lying, your orgasm was approaching you without remorse and no matter how hard you tried to fight it, it was by far a losing battle.

You held on for as long as you could, trying to use the lights and sounds in the room to tether you but before you were completely overwhelmed by the pleasure boiling up in your stomach and rising up your spine you screamed, “I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry Daddy, wanna be your good girl!”

As most of your orgasms were this one was absolutely overwhelming, flooding your senses with pure, unadulterated pleasure until all you could focus on was the warm feeling that washed over you and the ache in your cunt as the vibrator continued its assault against your pussy.

The added stimulation made it harder to come back as your climax subsided and the noises and voices that had once sounded muffled, as though you had been under water were clear as they reached your ears.

The first thing you heard as the fog began to lift from your head was a familiar but far off voice, “She’ll never learn will she?”

“Doesn’t look like it.”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete @pauloonig @oliviashea05 @gxtitobxby

#harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #marauders x reader #harry potter imagine #james potter #james potter x reader #marauders fanfic #marauders fanfiction #Remus lupin #Remus lupin x reader #Sirius black #sirius black x reader #james potter fanfiction #James potter smut #remus lupin fanfiction #Remus lupin smut #sirius black fanfiction #Sirius black smut #poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader

[ssickabit]

Hyunjin corrupting his cute gf who is usually bratty (also I love ur writing, and how you write in third person)

aaaaa thank you sm 🥺 im more comfortable using 3rd person pov in case you want to know :D

this contains fluff and also, angst, i hope you don’t mind that haha. enjoy!

[9.47 pm]

“where were you?”

Hyunjin’s voice was hoarse, making her stopped in the place. she blinked for times, then dropped her bag to the couch. “uh, i was working on my lastest project at town’s library.”

he chuckled, more likely to be mocking one. his expression now changed to the serious one. “i told you i will be home at 6 right?”

she let out a ‘tsk’. “i know.”

“why don’t you go home early?”

“i told you i was working on my project okay,” she replies with a higher tone. she huffed as she took off her coat. “why are you like this to be honest.”

Hyunjin watched her ignoring him, once again.

sure, he bought her alot of expensive things; sure, he brought her to the fanciest restaurants and parties; sure, he treated her like a queen but sometimes her attitude wasn’t the best. not to mention how their time management is so fucking bad, so they barely meet each other in daily.

he really to let out his frustration at work, but being home made it worse.

he almost throw his phone at the table, receiving the “what the fuck is wrong with you?” from her.

he turned his body to her, who’s opening her bag to let out some things.

“what the fuck is wrong with me?” he asked, “should’ve asked your fucking self about it.”

“you could have just told me what the fuck is wrong rather then being difficult like this hwang hyunjin,” she replied.

he let out the “i can’t believe you said that to me” face. he cocked one eyebrow then shouted. “see? who the fuck should’ve shut their mouth here? you. now continue whatever you were doing rather than being so fucking ignorant like this, you smart-mouthed slut.”

the silence creeped between them after Hyunjin went to their shared room. she sighed, trying not to mad and cry at the same time. this project is more important then being in a fight with a person like Hyunjin—she know it right.

she woke up when something poked behind her.

Hyunjin’s arm accidentally hugged her from his side. she tried to so hard to turn herself without waking him up.

fuck, she thought, his morning boner.

not like it’s something abnormal, but it’s just too distracting for her. she sighed as she got up from the bed, trying to make something to warm her body. last night was the first fight that they had in such a long time of their relationship and she felt bad about it. she knew she shouldn’t have been acting like that.

in the other place, Hyunjin woke up feeling needy.

he groaned, then went to the kitchen. he hugged her from behind, placed his face in the crook of her neck, then kissing it.

it was shocking for her, despite the fighting that they did last night.

“you didn’t leave?” she asked.

“nope,” he sighed, “studio was frustrating. i decided to take a day off.”

she nodded. she handed him the morning tea.

“what are you gonna do?” he asked.

“uh, take a shower?”

he smirked.

just as she took off every piece of her clothes and went it to the shower, he joined. he already naked—not like it’s their first time seeing each other naked. he was behind her as the water fell down, making their bodies wet. she loves it when Hyunjin slick back his blond hair with his fingers, and how he closed his eyes and lifted his chin as he trying to make the water run down his face.

he pulled her closer to him, hand in her waist.

“stop looking at my dick,” he said.

he caught her red-handed. their heights differences are so obvious as he looked down to her. “i-i’m sorry-“

“have you ever sucked a dick before?”

she looked up and stare into his eyes. “n-no,” she shook her head.

he licked his bottom lip. “wanna try with mine?”

sex wasn’t their regular thing because of his hectic schedule. he’d fuck her right everywhere he at but he didn’t do it anyway.

he took her virginity while ago.

and the ‘we both got so wasted, wanna have sex?’

“like, right here?”

“isn’t it obvious?”

she went on her knees and looked up to him with doubts. his cock is so beautiful, she thought. “it’s not gonna suck itself,” he answered all of her questionable gaze that she threw at him earlier. “come on, use you hand, tongue and mouth.”

she grabbed his cock then jerk it slowly. she began lick his tip. as their gaze met each other, she went bold. she kissed it, teasing the tip that went so angry, begging her to put it in her mouth. the way she roll her tongue and lips over it, making him stuck in this euphoric feelings. “look at you,” he chuckled, his breathing was heavy, “sucking my dick like a porn-star.”

“shit, shit, shit—“ he panted as she slid his length into her mouth. he grabbed a fistful of her hair with his hand, guiding her. “u-uh, less teeth then it’s okay,” he told her. she hummed, the vibration sending chills into his body. he growled as she kept doing what she have been doing. the way her fingers, her tongue and her lips teasing him; feels like he’s going to the cloud nine.

she bobbed her head faster as the time pass by. “h-hey,” he interrupted as he felt everything is going too far.

the mix of the drool and his pre-cum making her looks so pretty right now. “got up,” he said.

“w-why?” she asked.

“i don’t want to cum in your pretty mouth yet,” he answered as he helped her to got up. “can i fill you up instead?”

she nodded quickly. he chuckled then kissed her, trying to taste her mouth who just sucked his cock while ago. after they pulled out, she began to turn around, her face facing the wall.

“wait, what are you doing?”

“i thought-i thought you gonna take me from behind,” she softly answered.

“baby, no,” he shook his head, “i want you to look at me as i fuck you. okay?”

she obeyed. before she can proceed anything that happen, he slipped two of his fingers into her slit, feeling the wetness at the first second. her mouth opened—she was silent, but her eyes screw shut as she pumped his fingers into her. “are you wet just from sucking me?” he asked.

“y-yes,” is all that she can answer.

he smirked then pulled his finger out. the emptiness inside her making her whined. “you’re lucky that im gonna fuck you hard against this wall, how does it sound?” he whispered into her ear. she grabbed his hand, then began sucking onto his fingers. he can feel the arousal being sent into his cock, once again.

he grabbed his cock then teasing her with his tip. she whined into his ear, trying to make him fill her up quickly. “can’t wait for me to fill your tight pussy with my cock, darling?” he asked. he let out a low groan as he slid his length in. he gave her seconds to adjust herself. she can feel his cock throbbing inside her, making her walls clenched as the response. he looked down and hissed as he saw how her hole swallowed his cock perfectly.

he lifted one of her with his hand, keeping it up like that so he can have better access to her pussy. “hyunjin,” she mewled as he began to pound into her without any warning.

“your pussy feels so good around me baby,” he panted, “fuck, what a dirty slut you are.”

the sound of skin slapping as the glass around fogged around them is the only sound they can hear beside the choked moans that passed from their lips. “c-can i cum hyunjin?”

“beg for it,” he said.

“please? i-i can’t take it anymore—“ he cut her off as his thrust became deeper and harder.

“come on, i know you’re better than this,” he replied, with a loud groan following his voice. she cried to the overwhelming feelings that he made only for her. she dig her nails into his back, teeth grazing over his shoulder and neck. “look at me,” he demanded. “look-fuck, look at me as you cum.”

and she did even it was hard for her to open her eyes. he kissed her roughly to suppress her from crying. her walls clenched around him—the euphoria sent him over the edge. he pulled out, then jerked himself. she watched how he shot his seed into her stomach, moaning loudly.

he kissed her then. it was soft, not rushed, just lips collided to each other.

her memory played how he kissed her in the middle of sex. things Hyunjin would never do, but he did it. she knew he is the type of finish everything fast. but the way he kissed her, reminded her that she is his.

Hyunjin is afraid to admit that he is in love with the girl in front of him. he kissed her cheeks before they continue the shower session that was paused while ago. he pulled her closer to his figure, embracing every single inch of her. she rested her head on his chest as the water ran down their bodies.

“you know i didn’t mean it last night,” he said, breaking the silence between them.

she hummed in response.

“you know that i love you right?”

she looked up to him. “d-do you want a round two?”

“no!” he laughed to her innocence, “god, no. i just wanted to say that, okay? also, i’m sorry for last night.”

she wanted to disappear—she just can’t handle this lovely moment of them. she can hear the sincerity in his voice. she kept looking down to her feet,  making Hyunjin lifted her chin with his hand. “hey, what’s wrong?”

she was crying. he was in shock for a second. he hugged her seconds after. “hey...” he whispered.

“i-i love you too, Hyunjin,” she said through her tears, “i love you too much, and it hurts sometimes.”

in this moment he knew he fucked up. “i miss you, but sometimes i don’t know how to say it because you’re always busy with your works...”

he listened. he felt like his heart shattered in pieces now. “that doesn’t mean i don’t like it—i support you no matter what, because it’s your dream. it’s your passion, and i’m so proud of you.”

“hey,” he cleaned his throat, “i’m sorry, okay? i hope you know that i just don’t want to lose you. i’m sorry that sometimes this is difficult for us, but i’m so grateful that we can make it this far.”

she tried to calm her breath, as he caressed her back slowly. “i’m sorry sometimes i’m not a good girlfriend for you.”

“no, you’re not. you’re perfect for me.”

she didn’t let go of him. and she wouldn’t. Hyunjin knows sometimes they’re toxic for each other, but she is the one that’s on his mind, every time. Hyunjin might be the pop star everyone knows, but when he is with her, he knows he is just an ordinary human and he hope she knows that he is thankful to have her as his safe place.

“i love you,” he whispered one again. “and i always be.”

#stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids hard hours #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz smut #skz hard hours #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #hyunjin scenarios

[ickle-ronniekins]

chemical reaction

request from nonnie! “hiiiii! love ur writing sm ! could I request a fic with George maybe like an enemies to lovers kind of thing? or maybe like she’d hated him and he’d actually fancied her the entire time or something? thank you!!”

pairing: george x fem!reader (no specific house)

word count: 5.7k whoops sorry

A/N: i LOVED this request; i don’t think i'd ever really written an enemies to lovers fic before.. maybe once, so i adored this. wish this could be me and him rn tbh. also, had to put a hand through the hair in there ~shoutout to my gals~ anyway, please leave feedback, comments, reblog, share with your friends if you wish, thanks!

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @waschbiber @dreamer821 @feffffffy @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @sleep-i-ness @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole @angelinathebook @highly-acidic @purplefragile @90shermione @zreads @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hollands-weasley @andromedaa-tonks @bbstrawberry0421 @princessof-theuniverse @cappsikle @mytreec @imseeinggred @idont-knowrn @flyingserpxnt @auroraboringalis57 @godricsswords @jejegu | message me to be added, loves!

There was no denying the indisputable chemistry between you both. Everyone could see it. It was pretty difficult to miss, actually, especially when the two of you spent nearly every single lesson at one another’s throats.

“I’m warning you, Weasley -- stay as far away from me as you possibly can. I don’t want you and your misplaced priorities anywhere near me.”

“Wow, it is a pleasure to be insulted by you. Really.”

It all started in your third year. The very misguided and frivolous George Weasley and his brother, Fred, had decided to be prats in your Potions lesson. You’d never really had any interaction with them before that; you were their absolute and complete opposite. You’d preferred to spend most nights borrowing any and all books from the library and reading through them as quickly as you could, or spending your afternoons with the Dueling Club to further your studies with spells, charms, and incantations; whereas the two of them were always setting off fireworks in the Astronomy tower, or whatever the bloody hell two thirteen-year-old pranksters did.

Potions had been normal that day -- Snape had his usual displeased scowl painted on his face, and you were continually checking the clock and counting down the seconds until you could leave and speed off toward your History of Magic lesson. That is, until George had purposefully put the wrong ingredient into his cauldron, causing a spark, resulting in an explosion quite larger than they’d presumed and a ghastly horrible sight: one of your eyebrows burning off completely.

You’d been outraged; while the majority of the class had been too startled and shocked to let a laugh escape their lips, the twins had absolutely no issue erupting into a fit of obnoxious giggles, obviously incredibly pleased at their error. Snape had even cracked somewhat of a grin (if you could consider the edge of his lip slightly curling upward in a sort of mock expression a grin), but he still threw all three of you into detention. You! In detention! For getting your bloody eyebrow burnt off by a juvenile boy!

You and George hadn’t been the fondest of one another since.

In an attempt to separate yourself from him, you’d completely changed course -- McGonagall had been able to help you switch out some of your lessons for others. You didn't really want to take Divination, but if it meant being away from him for an hour and a half of your day, then so be it. You were going to have to be okay with your choices.

Until you heard the sardonic, cool wash of his voice from behind you.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

He sluggishly fell into the seat next to you; (of course, it being the only open spot left as he’d arrived precisely two minutes after the bell signaling the start of the lesson) he propped his feet up on the table in between you both. With your mouth still agape and brows threaded together, you angrily shoved his feet off of the table and slammed your spellbook down in place of them. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?” you huffed, folding your arms across your chest. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be right now? Like setting fire to a third year’s eyebrows? Or detention, perhaps?”

He scoffed airily. “Oh, hilarious, darling -- really; right fantastic joker, you are. No, you see, contrary to popular belief, I don’t spend every waking hour cleaning out cauldrons, or --”

You cut him off, “Oh, and here I was thinking that you’d make a perfectly adequate cauldron cleaner if a full time opportunity were to present itself.”

He didn’t skip a beat. “-- or setting fire to third year’s eyebrows.”

“No?”

“No,” he replied throatily. And then, that all too familiar smirk of his. “Only to those who deserve it.”

You were about to snap back with some snarky retort, but thankfully Trelawney’s very soft-spoken voice floated through the room and managed to calm you down a bit. It didn’t stop you from sneering at George completely though, as he relaxed back into his chair and grinned to himself like an idiot.

You yanked your spellbook off of the table and turned to the desired page; you didn’t really fancy the idea of doing more research on crystal gazing, palmistry, ornithomancy, and tessomancy, but seeing as N.E.W.Ts were coming up, it only made sense that Professor Trelawney would make you revisit these desired areas of study.

“Gaze into the beyond!” she cried, “and tell your partner what you see!”

George very obviously rolled his eyes as you peered closely into the crystal ball. You couldn’t see anything except smoke, and so you furrowed your brows even more, as if to will yourself to concentrate. It was no use. You hated this subject; you’d only taken it to get away from him, anyway! He scoffed at the sight of you concentrating fiercely. “And what is it,” he asked you in an uncanny expression of your professor, “that you see?”

You shot him a glance and backed away from the crystal ball, scribbling something down on your parchment, and then turning your attention back toward him. “I see myself trying to lower my blood pressure and focus on my work,” you said cheerily, “because the idiot sat across from me is being an even bigger git than normal.”

“Wow,” he replied, his voice fierce with mock surprise. He widened his eyes and nodded his head fervently. “You’re really rubbish at this, aren’t you?”

His quips made your blood boil.

It felt as if it were hours before the lesson had ended; when the bell rang mercifully, you packed up your things in a rush and nearly sprinted out of the classroom, without a last glance or a word to George. This was going to be a long bloody year.

-- -

“So what’ve you been learning in Divination, Georgie?”

You groaned and placed your head directly on top of your parchment. Why is it that they always seem to end up where you are? This was the library, they had absolutely no business being here. This was your turf, and it always had been.

“Little of this, little of that,” George replied to his brother, his voice merry. “Been revisiting some old tasks to prep for N.E.W.Ts. Oh, that reminds me -- I was crystal gazing the other day.”

“Yeah?” Fred’s voice heightened. You could hear the smirk and the eyebrow raise. “And what did you see?”

“Well, it was kind of difficult to tell,” George said, “my huffy, stuffy partner kept distracting me with her bloody obnoxious sighs every single time I so much as blinked in her direction.”

You slammed shut the very large book you were reading as the twins and their friends erupted into laughter, swiveled your way through students, and returned the book to its proper place on the shelf. To your delight, Madam Pince was not too keen on noise in the library, and immediately began scolding them. This didn’t stop George from sending you a wink and a shake of the head before you vanished in the corridor. Merlin, he was going to drive you bloody mad.

-- -

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Had your friends gone absolutely bonkers? He fancies you. You couldn’t seem to shake the phrase from your head no matter how hard you tried -- it was that outrageous and that hilarious.

There was no way that George Weasley fancied you -- for one, the two of you could not be more different. Secondly, if he really did, and he was still busy treating you like he loathed you, then that could mean only one thing: that he had the personality of a five-year-old. Yes, like that of a five-year-old boy chasing and pushing and teasing a five-year-old girl on the playground at primary school. And then, you figured, he was just as immature as he seemed.

“Perhaps you could make it a less.. hostile environment,” your mate told you one afternoon over lunch. “Clear the air a bit.”

“There’s nothing to clear,” you told her gruffly, picking at your sandwich. “He’s a git -- always has been, always will be.”

She began to laugh. “But you don’t really know that, do you? I mean, yeah, sure, he was a right prat during third year, but you’ve bloody hated the guy since then for laughing. Laughing. It’s not like he did it on purpose, you know. It was a mistake.”

You turned toward her in surprise. “A mistake that caused my bloody eyebrow to burn off!”

“And look,” she replied cheerily, “it’s grown back!” You groaned; why was she doing this? Make it a less hostile environment. The only way that could happen is if you and George were miles, if not worlds, apart.

“Maybe try.. having a conversation, yeah? You may have something in common,” she continued on, noisily slurping the rest of her pumpkin juice. “I’m just saying; you don’t have to love the bloke, but you don’t have to hate him, either. Make this atrocious Divination lesson less dreadful for you both by just being civil.” She slung her bag across her shoulder and tapped you on the shoulder. “Have got Charms -- just think about it, okay? See you,”

Civil. You supposed, as you took a very deep sigh and finished off the rest of your drink, that you could attempt to do that. Just then, a very loud bit of raucous laughter echoed across the Great Hall, coming from none other than the Gryffindor table, where George and Fred were no doubt showcasing one of their products for their shop they were so confident they’d be able to open and run. The commotion from the table only seemed to increase, and you took yet another very deep, gruff sigh. Civil. You could try. But Merlin, you’d have to try really very bloody hard.

-- -

When George sat down across from you a few days later, you’d been back and forth between the idea of being courteous and being rude more times than you could count on two hands. And luckily for him, you’d just flopped back to the idea of politeness.

You stuck out a hand and he looked at you quizzically. “Merlin -- have the fumes in here gone to your head or something? We’ve known one another for years.”

Civility, you thought. You stood your ground. “Can we just.. I dunno, start over? This lesson is already terrible enough without us nearly killing one another. I, for one, don’t want to dread this any more than I already do. So what do you say?”

You couldn’t tell right away if the arch of his eyebrows meant he was genuinely considering this or if he was fighting back a very haughty laugh so as not to spark an argument. But then, surprisingly, incredibly, he took his hand in yours and shook it firmly. “Alright then, Y/N,” he said professionally, “I suppose I can do that. But no bashing my methods of study,”

“No burning off my eyebrows,” you retorted.

“No worries there,” he replied, sneaking a small smirk at you as he opened his spellbook, “nothing to blow up in here.”

For the first time in nearly four years, the two of you had made it throughout an entire lesson without yelling at one another. It was both surprising and refreshing. And although you both continued to make small digs at one another, and he certainly continued to test your patience, you realized that maybe your mate was right.

It turns out you did have some things in common, actually.

“Why the bloody hell haven’t you tried out for Quidditch then?”

George was still beaming over your story of how you’d miraculously caught a Snitch at the very young age of seven in your backyard with your siblings. You’re not exactly sure when Quidditch had come up in the conversation, but somehow it did, and the two of you were now packing up to head to your next lessons.

“I dunno,” you replied truthfully, “it was never really my thing. I much rather prefer dueling than playing Quidditch.”

“Word of advice,” he said, shoving his Divination spellbook back into his bag, “never tell your housemates that you’re a Quidditch wizard. They will kill you dead you for not going out for the team.”

Just then, Professor Trelawney came scurrying over to you both -- her eyes wide and hair a tousled mess. “Mr. Weasley!” she cried excitedly, pointing down at the crystal ball, “what have you seen today?”

He looked at the professor, the ball, and then at you, a simple smile on his lips, sort of a half-smirk half-genuine sort of look. “Friendship,” he said simply.

Dumbfounded, Professor Trelawney began nodding fervently to herself and mumbling things neither of you could understand -- utter nonsense, really, and moved onto the next pair of students before they could leave. You folded your arms across your chest and raised an eyebrow. “Friendship, hm?”

George shrugged and placed his hands inside his pockets before starting toward the door. “And to think,” he said, “all you had to do was not loathe me so much.”

“It’s harder than it seems, George.”

“That’s mean,” he teased, bringing a hand to his chest in mock hurt. Then, genuinely, “we’re kind of best mates now, aren’t we?”

You choked back a laugh and held up a finger to him. “Erm, easy there -- wouldn’t go that far.”

He shook his head and began tuttering. “Dear, dear Y/N.. rubbish at both Divination and at lying.”

You threw a cushion from one of the chairs straight at his head before you both headed off in your respective directions. Best mates. Merlin. It was one lesson you’d both sort of gotten along in. He certainly was exaggerating a bit, wasn’t he? Even so, you couldn’t help the very small grin that spread itself across your face as you walked merrily toward Defense Against the Dark Arts.

--

You were having a particularly rough day.

You’d started the day off by waking up behind schedule, rushing through breakfast, and running in late to your morning lesson. You’d managed to completely bungle whatever nonsense Snape was having you concoct in Potions, losing a generous amount of points from your house. You’d slipped down the steps and given yourself a nasty bruise on your arm, and you were pretty sure that you were getting a cold -- and right before the winter holidays, at that.

So when you sluggishly made your way into Divination and George immediately began to tease you, you were not having it.

“Uh ohhhh,” he said in a sing-song sort of voice, “someone having a bad day?”

You knew he probably meant it as a joke and nothing more, but you were too pissed off to care. Was it the glassiness in your eyes? Your red nose? Your disheveled hair, or the fact that you’d hardly found the energy to straighten your tie? You growled, “I am not in the mood, George.”

“Blimey, alright, I was just --”

“I know what you were doing,” you scowled after a sneeze, “and I’d really just like to get through this lesson in one piece, if you don’t mind.” He put up his hands in surrender and sealed his lips shut. You sighed. “I’m sorry, I’m just not feeling the greatest today -- d’you mind if we just focus on the work?”

Today you were focusing your studies on palmistry. Not your favorite. It was an incredibly long, mundane lesson.

Later on, George asked you, “D’you want me to ask Trelawney if we can finish up early since you’re feeling ill?”

“Please.”

You closed your eyes for the few seconds George was gone; when he returned, he sat back down in his seat with a rather confused look etched on his face. “She, erm, told me no can do. I’ll just have to really.. ‘cleans my aura’ after this.” He used air quotes and actually had to hold back a bit of laughter. “It’s fine, I reckon. I’ll read yours. You don’t have to do mine.”

You reached out across the table as far as you could; your entire body was hurting. You didn’t want to be sneezing and achey during the Christmas holidays! You were busy pouting when George took your hand in his and began examining closely. You found yourself feeling surprised by a few things -- one, the tender touch of his fingers grazing your palm; two, how soft his skin felt against yours; three, the way your breath had hitched in your throat at the mere contact.

The feeling of his pointer finger tracing over your life and head lines on your palm sent shivers down your spine; perhaps it was an oncoming fever? You weren’t sure, and you didn’t know if the fogginess clouding your brain was the head cold or Trelawney’s classroom or the sheer intensity of the moment between you and this redhead. Somehow, though, when George looked up and locked eyes with you, you had this strange feeling that he was feeling the same things you were. Pure shock. Pure surprise.

“So, erm,” you began, clearing your throat and stretching as far away from him as you could, “what’s it say then? What’s going to happen?”

George hummed appreciatively and looked back down at your hand once more before letting go. “Some type of.. chemical reaction. In our Potions lesson. Bubbling cauldrons, and all that.”

What? Were the fumes getting to him too? He never looked so serious in all his life! Maybe he needed a trip to the hospital wing to uncloud his own head --

“Sorry? George, what’re you on about? We don’t take Potions together.”

“Oh, you’re right,” he replied, shaking his head a bit and forcing down a smile. And then, much to your surprise (and delight, perhaps?) he said something you were pretty sure you dreamt up: “--reaction must be between us, then.”

If his knee hadn’t been touching yours under the table, or you hadn’t felt the stuffiness of your head cold take you over, you would’ve been sure that it had all been a dream, or perhaps the haziness of the classroom making you hallucinate. But no. He’d said it. He’d said it quite seriously, with his signature smirk and hand through the hair right afterward.

The bell rang, startling you, and he stood up slowly and slung his bag across his shoulder. You fumbled with your books, both exhausted from your oncoming illness and dumbfounded by his comment. “Mum swears by green tea,”

“Oh, erm, sorry?”

George laughed. “Green tea. My mum says it always helps during the colder months. Pretty sure they’ve got some in the kitchens.” He started toward the door, but waited for you. You both parted ways near the Great Hall. “Rest up, alright? Don’t need my partner missing out on the very exciting, albeit outdated art of palm reading.”

You laughed a bit. “I’ll be sure to, George.”

“And remember,” he pointed at you, “lots of green tea. A Molly Weasley recommendation.”

You couldn’t help the gentle smile that tugged at your lips. “Tell her thanks for me.”

-- -

Two days later and you were feeling as good as new. George had been right -- a few cups of green tea everyday, and it seemed to have cleared your sinuses right up. His mum was a right genius.

There were only two more days of classes before everyone was going to pack up and leave for the holidays. Although you’d be back after the new year, it still felt odd going home; you missed Hogwarts so desperately whilst being home. Something about the castle, illuminated by dazzling decorations and lights and ornaments -- it was rather stunning, actually, and always left you yearning for more.

You were busy scribbling down the very last bit of your Charms essay in the library when you heard your name. Oh no! How long had you been there, working away? You groaned and quickly wrote your name on the top of the parchment and bolted from the back of the library. Then you stopped in your tracks as goosebumps rose on your skin, and you listened:

“Do me a favour, Weasley, and just admit that your brother is mad for her.”

It was your mate. What was she doing, here in the library? Wasn’t she supposed to be in Herbology? You quickly skidded your way into one of the empty aisles, listening intently to the conversation unfolding just a few feet away from you in the aisle next to yours. And then came the unmistakable sound of Fred Weasley’s very dry sarcasm:

“Who? George? My twin? Mad for your friend? No, there’s no way.”

You could almost hear the smile that split his face. Your breath caught in your throat, and you struggled terribly to stifle a cough. What were they on about? There was no way, just absolutely no way that he really did fancy you. You thought your mates had been joking a few weeks back; you’d taken them up on their suggestion to be polite, but that was merely it. Friends? Maybe. A couple? Bloody hell, absolutely not.

“Could you be bloody serious for one moment?”

“I reckon I do not have a serious bone in my body, I’m afraid.”

Ignoring this, your friend continued. “How long?”

“Hmm,” Fred began. You imagined that he was probably looking toward the sky, as if searching for his thoughts so he could pull them directly out of thin air. “Well, let’s see. Pretty sure the day Y/N screamed bloody murder at him in Potions, he’d fallen very quickly in love, even though he never admitted it to anyone. I’ve known it, though, because the poor bloke wears his heart on his sleeve. So about four years, yeah.”

“And he just couldn’t quit the merciless teasing, could he?”

“It’s like you don’t know us at all.”

You couldn’t listen anymore. You quickly shuffled your way out of the library and all the way to your common room until you were safely in your dormitory and could yell into the void. Why on bloody earth would he have been acting so rude if he actually fancied you, even if he had been trying to keep his feelings a secret? But then his comment from the other day flooded your mind, and you soon found, as you mulled them over, that a lot of his comments toward you could be taken in a flirtatious manner if you hadn’t been so obsessed with hating him so much. Perhaps, looking back, he’d been basing his repartee off of your desire to make your distaste of him very well known.

What would have happened if you’d taken that misfortune in Potions in stride? Would you two have been alright? Acquaintances? Friends? Maybe even..

You felt a small jab in your stomach.

It’s as if the conversation you’d overheard had made you do a complete one eighty. Four months ago, the idea of spending any of your time with George Weasley nearly sent you into a tizzy. You absolutely abhorred the idea. The sight of him alone made your blood boil, and any and all interaction with him would have made you miserable to the point of constant sulking. But now?

It was sort of hard to get the guy out of your head.

You found yourself constantly replaying all of your interactions with him over the years back each night before bed. Of course, there hadn’t been too many, seeing as you’d done your absolute very best to avoid him at all costs. But the ones that had happened.. perhaps there was something other than disdain in his voice. Maybe you’d just chosen to hear it as disdain, because you didn’t want to admit to yourself what was actually true.

You didn’t know what happened between that time he’d first read your palm and what you’d overheard in the library, but something had changed.

Lots had changed.

His words echoed in your ears.

Maybe there was some type of chemical reaction going on.

-- -

When you walked into Divination the next morning, you weren’t very surprised to see George already sitting there. He’d started coming to lessons earlier and earlier, to the point where he was getting there before you. It was refreshing, actually. You’d always thought he didn’t really care about work; he’d proved you wrong, though, and you were glad.

You both fell into your routine quite easily, ignoring the very theatrical talks coming from Trelawney as she made her way around the room to observe each of you through her her very large spectacles. You felt a bit of a pull at your heart that this would be your very last lesson together before the holidays -- you relished and also sort of dreaded the idea of being very far away from this foggy mess of a classroom for a few weeks time.

“You’re awfully quiet today. Feeling better?”

George’s voice took you by surprise, because you’d both been working rather diligently on the finishing touches of your essays. You cleared your throat and stunned yourself at how softly your voice sounded in your own ears. “Yes, yeah of course. That tea worked wonders actually -- your mum’s a genius.”

George laughed softly but didn’t look up from his parchment. “Yeah, she’s a wonder, she is.”

“Has to be,” you replied, tracing over the letters of your name, “with seven kids and all. Has to be on top of things.”

“I reckon you’re right.” He finished whatever he was writing and looked up at you with a smile, and when you skittishly glanced back down toward your parchment, he asked, “are you sure you’re alright?”

“Mhmm,” you replied, biting down on your lip. Your feet were thumping rhythmically against the floor. And then the words were said before you could register just exactly what you were doing: “Heard something about you.”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “Whatever it is, I swear I didn’t do it.” Then he paused, thought for a moment, and opened his mouth to speak again. “Alright..maybe I’ve done it.”

A small chuckle settled in the air between you both when he finally looked up from his parchment and locked his gaze with yours. “Sorry. What did you hear?”

You considered making something up, for now you were panicking, and you hated feeling panicked: but then again, you were in pretty deep already, and what did you have to lose? “It was from your brother, actually. Fred.”

“Oh, Merlin.”

“Yeah, said something interesting,” you continued on, focusing your eyesight solely on the parchment in front of you. You resumed tracing the letters of your name over and over, just to give yourself an excuse to not look at him as your cheeks surely flooded pink. “Said you actually haven’t loathed me this entire time?” It came out as more of a question.

“Really?”

“Actually, if my memory serves me correctly..” you dragged out every single word, still unsure if you were going to go for it. And then you did. “I’m pretty sure he actually used the word.. fancy.”

You half expected George to throw up his arms in a fit, exclaiming that Fred didn’t know what the bloody hell he was on about, and of course he’d actually disliked you this entire time. You also half expected him to burst out and cackle himself silly, because the sheer idea of a guy like him fancying a girl like you just tickled him. But instead, he licked his lips and peered at you with a type of compassion in his eyes you’d never seen before. Then he wiggled his eyebrows and offered, “He’s smarter than I thought. And to think.. I’d never even told him how I truly felt.”

Okay, surely you’d dreamt that. But nope; nope, he’d said it, yet again, causing the butterflies to dance animatedly around your stomach. You opened your mouth to speak as he smiled softly at you, but then Trelawney came bouncing over, completely interrupting the moment. “Oh, my dears! Friendship was on your horizon, you say; now, look into the beyond and tell one another what lies ahead!”

She bounced quickly over to the next group, and you took to looking inside the crystal ball; but any type of focus you’d had before had flown out the window now -- there was no way you were going to be able to properly function, because as it turns out, your very worst enemy had actually liked you this entire bloody time.

George leant in closer so that he, too, was hovering over the crystal ball, your foreheads almost touching. You could feel his breath on your neck. His voice was low and cool, “What’s the future say now, love?”

“Friendship,” you somehow spit out, your throat and mouth suddenly as dry as the Sahara desert. “Maybe more, actually.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,”

And then the sound of glass shattering against the hardwood floor across the room startled you both, causing you to pull away from one another and catch your breath.

Moment over.

-- -

The Great Hall was bustling with students chatting animatedly and loads of luggage carts and parcels of presents. You’d just finished your final lesson before the holidays (Charms -- ending on a high note!) and you were very relieved to be on a break from your studies for a few weeks time and to be heading home.

The Great Hall was filled with people, but not the familiar one you were looking for.

Perhaps the conversation you were hoping to have could wait until after the holidays; although you didn’t know if you’d make it through three weeks of wondering what and if without spontaneously combusting.

You tugged your luggage out into the corridor to board one of the carriages to the train when you spotted him standing with his siblings, surrounded by luggage carts and huddled up in his Gryffindor robes and scarf.

Before you could find the courage to walk on over to him to wish him a happy Christmas, it seemed as though he was able to read your mind, for he excused himself from his siblings and made his way over to you, causing you to back up a few inches and press yourself directly into the wall.

You both hadn’t had a chance to chat since your lesson yesterday, since you’d found out the truth, since you’d ran out due to your nerves and George’s cheeky grin.

“So, erm -- sorry I ran out yesterday. Was a bit.. flustered, is all.”

You could’ve said anything else, but these were the words that chose to escape your lips. Bloody hell. You internally scolded yourself, but the expression George’s face didn’t change.

“Flustered?” he asked, confusion crinkling the edges of his eyes. “About what?”

“George, come on.”

“No, please,” he placed his hand on his chest, “You’re going to have to remind me. Yesterday’s events are all a blur, I’m afraid.”

He smirked, and you suddenly felt your blood begin to boil again. He was going to make you say it, of course he was.

“You know,” you started through gritted teeth, “our little conversation in Divination yesterday afternoon. About your... feelings.”

He nodded dramatically and clicked his tongue. “Right. That conversation. You know, it’s funny,” he began, placing his hands inside his pockets and moving closer to you, “I really dislike crystal gazing. I find the more accurate readings come from palmistry.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” he replied flatly, as if it were obvious. He took out his hand and placed in front of you. “Look here. I reckon you’ll be able to read the future quite clearly.”

You took his hand in yours, and immediately felt as thought you were out of your element. Yet, you began to trace the lines gently with your forefinger. You weren’t reading any bloody future; you were merely trying not to let the very steady pounding of your heart be so evident in the rising tension between you both. You found yourself, actually, pulling ever so gently on his hand, as if to bring him closer to you. You could easily reach out and trace the outline of freckles on his nose.

“See anything intriguing?” he breathed.

Something about being around him made you feel simultaneously more nervous than you ever had been and more confident; you were feeling so self-assured that you actually said something before you could overthink it. “Yeah, actually, looks here like you’re about to kiss me,” you said breathlessly.

How odd, you thought, that just mere months ago the man in front of you was none other than your absolute mortal enemy, and now all you wanted to do was spend the holidays locked away with him in a broom cupboard.

A cheeky grin split his face and he moved another inch or so closer; just centimeters to go, and his lips would be fully pressed to yours, the chemical reaction bubbling over perfectly. “Is that so?” he asked quietly, very slowly moving his way forward. He lifted your chin with his hand so your face was angled up toward his, and he stopped just as his lips so very softly brushed yours. It didn’t even seem real, honestly. Just then, one of the Weasleys shouted to George that their older brother was here to fetch them, and he you felt his smile brighten ever so lightly against you. Damnit! And instead of finishing what he’d started, he merely ran a finger across your chin, down your neck and over your collarbone and whispered, “Happy Christmas, love,” before pulling away.

What in the bloody fuc--! Was he kidding? Not only had the reaction bubbled over, but you now felt like exploding at how much of a prat he was being. He’d already made you say such silly things, and now he really had the audacity to almost kiss you and then pull away?

“You’ve got to be joking,” you said under your breath as he squeezed your hand. “You’re going to kill me.”

He wiggled his eyebrows seductively. “Have got to leave you wanting more, don’t I?”

You scoffed loudly and took a very deep, very overdue breath to regain your composure, but not before he leaned in and caught you off guard by pressing his lips to yours and gently melting into you. A slight sigh escaped you, and before you could register just what it felt like to have his lips on yours, you both broke apart -- he winked merrily at your wide eyes and made his way back toward his siblings. “You still going to be a right prat in three weeks time?” you teased, folding your arms across your chest as he tugged a beanie over his head.

“Oh, there’s no doubt in my mind, love,” he said as if it were obvious, “you still going to let me read your palms and drive you mad?”

You grinned a bit more and shook your head, tugging your own scarf around your neck as he was pulled by his siblings out of the castle. You breathed deeply, brought your fingers to your lips where his had just been, and said to nobody in particular, “Oh, there’s no doubt in my mind, Weasley.”

#george weasley #fred weasley #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #george weasley x reader #george weasley reader insert #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fanfic #george weasley imagine #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins fanfic #weasley twins fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #hp imagine

[jenoptimist]

you may have only gotten half a pudding cup but you got yourself a real life Disney Prince, so who’s the real winner?

✮ Pairing: kunhang x reader (gender neutral)

✮ Genre: fluff

✮ Word count: 5.8k

♡ Yakult says: hendery!!!!in!!glasses!!!!!!! pls i love him sm 🥲

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

There was a phone number in you calculus textbook that you were one hundred percent sure you never wrote down. Not that you could, anyway, considering that it was a library book. Well, no, techincally you could write it in but you wouldn’t dare. The longer you stared at the handful of digits, the more you freaked out. You absolutely could not afford to be fined! The whole reason why you borrowed it from your college library was so that you didn’t have to spend money in the first place!

After gathering your materials and stuffing them into your bag, you hurriedly left your local library. You fished your phone out of your pocket, scrolled through your – admittedly pathetically short – list of contacts and called the person who you suspected wad the source of your small dilemma.

“‘Sup?” Yangyang greeted.

“Be honest with me,” you said seriously, immediately cutting to the chase, “were you the one who wrote the number?”

There was a beat of silence, and then, “what number?”

“You know,” you urged as you neared the apartment complex that the two of you lived in. “The one in my calculus textbook? I borrowed it from the college library and I don’t want to get into shit if they find it.”

“That wasn’t me!”

“Oh really?” You asked in disbelief as you hopped into the elevator and punched the number to your floor. After what you dubbed as, ‘The Spaghetti Incident of 2018’ you could never be too sure with him. When he replied that he didn’t, you asked him another two times. Throughout your friendship with Yangyang, you found that the trick to getting him to admit the truth was to keep badgering him until he either: got fed up or thought that whatever he did was no longer funny.

“I swear on my Hot Wheels!”

You hummed in consideration. His Hot Wheels collection was his utmost pride and joy - second only to his large sneaker collection - especially since he owned a handful of exclusive and rare ones. They were all displayed neatly on several shelves on one of the walls in his bedroom. They were even color coordinated and everything! Sometimes, when you went to offer him some food, you found him staring at them with a wide smile, his eyes full of admiration.

“Oh,” you frowned as you grabbed your keys from your jacket pocket but before you could slot your key into the lock, the door opened. Yangyang, the dork, greeted you over the phone even though he stood in front of you, a boyish grin displayed on his face. You rolled your eyes, not able to smother your smile as you hung up and stepped inside, locking the door behind you. It was noticeably warmer than usual and the apartment smelled if something toasty, which only meant one thing. “Pizza?” You guessed confidently.

Just as he gave you an affirmative, the oven began beeping to signal that it was finished. As Yangyang brought everything to the coffee table in front of your couch, you slipped off your shoes, dropped your bag and shrugged your coat off. While he cut the pizzas into almost even slices, you grabbed two cans of soda from the fridge.

Although it was still piping hot, you couldn’t help but take big bites. Your slice of doughy goodness was diminished within seconds. Solving calculus problems did thay to you. It was your least favorite module of the semester and brought on a headache whenever you left your lectures.

“This is so good.” You remarked as you took another slice. You loved a good margherita from Dominos but there was nothing like a frozen pizza from your local supermarket—the additives was probably what made it delicious, the cheap price just happened to be a bonus. Yangyang definitely felt the same, seeing as how the two of you devoured both pizzas within minuts, silence taking over the room.

You took a sip of your soda after popping open the top. “I”–you didn’t like the mischief that danced in uour room-mate’s eyes–“dare you to call the number.”

In your haste to swallow it, the soda passed through your throat uncomfortably, as if it were a large stone. “Nuh-uh.” You said with a shake of your head. There was absolutely no way you were going to call that number! You were just going to forget that it was even there. Or maybe you would return the book and hope that the next unfortunate student who will borrow it would be the one to pay whatever fine they had for ‘defacing public property’, as the college liked to call it. You didn’t know how many people had a calculus module in their course but you sure hoped that it was a large number.

“Awh come on, y/n!” At the firm shake of your head, he folded his arms and pouted slightly. A moment of silence passed and then, “I’ll give you a twenty.”

You took another sip of your soda as you mulled it over. “How about a ten and your last mango pudding cup for a text?”

Yangyang sucked a breath through his teeth. “That’s a tough bargain.” You shrugged, he hogged the other five pudding cups for himself so if he really wanted you to call this mystery person, he would have to give up the remaining one. “Okay, what if I give you fifteen and we split the pudding cup.”

“Better than nothing.” You conceeded after a second of thinking it over.

Yangyang’s grin stretched from ear to ear as he held out his hand for you to take. Once you shook it, the two of you quickly cleaned up. Not even ten minutes later, the last pudding cup and two spoons were on the table along with the textbook, opened on the page with the number on it. Yangyang leaned closer to your shoulder, his head practically resting on top of yours as he watched you type in the number and text.

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

hey! i found ur number on a textbook i borrowed from the library so i thought i’d say hi i guess?

“Now we wait.” Yangyang said as he returned to his seat and opened the pudding cup. He handed you your spoon and the two of you dug in, eventually fighting for the last bit.

The reply came when you and Yangyang were watching Into The Spiderverse. Neither of you paused the movie when you heard the notification sound your phone let out—you had seen it countless times; twice when it was in cinemas and every so often whenever it was on Netflix.

You were slightly nervous about the reply, which was silly considering that you didn’t even know the person, but you opened up the text anyway so that it would be over and done with.

from: 13X XXXX XXXX

Hi. My friend just told me he wrote it in there before I transferred. I’d be grateful if you could rub it out or use correction tape to get rid of it. Also, please delete my number.

You pursed your mouth at the response. It wasn’t as if you were hoping to be best friends or anything but the prospect of befriending someone had definitely excited you. You had college friends but that was liferally what they were: friends who you only saw in college. None of them hung out with you outside of college and whenever you did offer, they would either say yes to humour you – which, unfortunately, was blatantly obvious – or came up with an excuse. Which sucked, for obvious reasons but you would survive. The only people you had actually managed to successfully befriend were Yangyang (because he was looking for a room-mate at the time) and his best friend, Dejun.

“Uh-oh,” came Yangyang’s voice. “What did they say?” He was quick to read the text after you turned your phone to show him the screen. “Whoever it is, they’re very, um,” he paused for a moment while he thought of a fitting description, scratching his head, “grammatically correct?” At your nod of agreement, he added, “at least he said ‘please’.”

You shrugged as you typed a quick reply. “I guess.”

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

sure thing

from: 13X XXXX XXXX

Thank you.

The two of you refocused your attention to the movie, the texts completely forgotten once you received his reply. Later that night, you did as you were requested and used correction tape to hide the number—which was written in neat, tiny green ink. You were aware that covering the numbers in correction tape would also be considered as ‘defacing public property’ too, but it was for the sake of the stranger’s privacy. It seemed as though you were the fiest to contact the number but, still, if you were in their position, you wouldn’t like your number to be in public property either.

As for the text, you took a screenshot of it for Yangyang, who asked for it so that he could show Dejun while he typed away in your groupchat, and then erased the number from your phone.

*

Two weeks later, you found yourself sitting at the study desk in your room, staring helplessly at the blank answer boxes of the calculus assignment you had been told to complete and submit before the end of next week. You wanted to cry in frustration as you redirected your gaze down to your notebook where you had been trying to solve the equations. The entire page was a mess and your desk was coverd with eraser bits. It had gotten to the point where some parts of the page had gone grainy, like it always did when you repeatedly erased something on the same area. There wasn’t a single problem that you managed solve—no matter how hard you tried. It was pathetic, really.

With a sigh, you decided to take the break that you had put off, not wanting to take one until you solved a problem (ha!) as a reward. Maybe you would rewatch the entire Twilight saga again (Dejun had managed to convince you to read the series a couple of months back and the movies had become something like a guilty pleasure of yours,) because it was clear that you were going absolutely nowhere.

Just as you had started Eclipse, you heard the door open but didn’t bother moving from your spot. In fact, you hadn’t moved since you started your movie marathon a few hours ago because you were all too comfortable buried inside your fluffy blanket on the couch.

“Perfect timing!” Dejun’s rich voice bellowed, “it just started.” There was the sound of socked feet running towards the couch and then he lifted your legs, sat down and laid them down on top of his lap.

“Hey Dejun.” You greeted, raising your hand for a high five.

When he slapped his palm against yours, he asked, “how’re you doing?”

Just as you opened your mouth to answer, Yangyang spoke up. “Judging from the Twilight marathon that’s going on,” there was a hissing sound of a can opening and the audible sound of him taking a quick sip of whatever canned beverage he was holding, “not very good.”

“Hey!” You exclaimed but your your friend only shrugged, smiling amusedly. “He’s right though,” you grumbled, “I’m really struggling with calculus at the moment.” Struggling was an understatement. You really wanted to pass it because you definitely didn’t want to repeat the exam. That would be a nightmare.

Dejun looked at you sympathetically before he made an affronted noise in his throat, one that you felt deeply in your soul as he turned to face Yangyang. “The Twilight saga is a cinematic masterpiece and you absolutely cannot change my mind.”

“Okay,” the blond replied, clearly up for the challenge. “But it’s not better than Shrek now, is it?”

“Shrek?” Dejun repeated incredulously. “Shrek is an iconic classic but the Twilight saga? Definitely on a different wavelength. The scene in New Moon where Bella just sits on her chair looking out the window soullessly? Perfection! It was a fantastic book to movie adaptation. And don’t even get me started on—”

“As thrilling as your debate is becoming,” you said, interrupting the point that the brunet was about to make, “I’d really love to continue the movie so I can hear young BooBoo Stewart say, ‘newest, bestest, brightest’ to help me feel a crumb of joy.” You were unable to find it in yourself to feel guilty about cutting in. They could take their debate somewhere else while you continued to wallow in your feelings of failure.

The pair read your mood easily and shrugged at one another in concession. Dejun patted your leg lightly in comfort as Yangyang jumped on the couch to sit on your other side, giving you a quick side-hug before focusing on the movie. It was silent up until Rosalie finished telling Bella her the story about her past.

“I’ve been thinking,” Dejun spoke up.

“Uh-oh.” Yangyang muttered playfully to you, his voice purposefully loud. You huffed out a laugh before lightly digging your elbow into his side, knowing that he’s had an awful share of ideas in the past.

Dejun stuck his tongue out at him but continued with what he began saying instead of retaliating. “Why don’t you text that person? The one whose number was in the textbook you borrowed? They must have done the module or something.”

You considered what he said seriously, even pausing the movie so that you could discuss it with him. “What if they didn’t though? What if it was their friend who borrowed the textbook? They did say that it was their friend who wrote it there.”

“Then you could just ask their friend for help.” Yangyang piped up. It was a statement that you couldn’t counter but that didn’t mean that you wouldn’t try to.

“I don’t have their number anymore,” you said to them. “They asked me to delete it, remember?”

“And that’s where you’re wrong,” Dejun told you as he reached into one of the pockets of his jeans and fished out his phone. Yangyang leaned over slightly and the two of you watched as Dejun quickly swiped his finger up his phone. “Here you go!” He said brightly, turning his phone so that you were facing the screen. And there it was: the screenshot that Yangyang asked you to take so that he could send it to Dejun. There was no way you could weasel your way out of this situation now.

“Okay,” you relented, “I’ll text them after we finish this saga.”

“If you text them after this movie, I’ll pay for take-out.” Yangyang bribed, eager for this idea to take place.

You weighed out the pros and cons briefly before agreeing with him. It would be a win-win situation: you would get take-out and a possible tutor. It seemed as if time moved quicker because the movie felt as though it finished within a few minutes. As Yangyang dialed the number for a local take-out place, you slowly typed out a text, him and Dejun watching you with hawk eyes.

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

hi! it’s me again. i know you don’t know me but could you please help me with calc? or your friend, whoever borrowed the textbook. please. i feel like my brain is melting

You flung your phone on the table, laid back down on the sofa and released a long sigh. It would be a lie if you said that you weren’t hoping that they would say yes. You were trying your best but it was as if your brain refused to coorperate with you when it came to calculus. If only Yangyang or Dejun were enrolled in the same course as you. It was often that you thoughr that wistfully, especially during times such as this.

It was when you were about to shove a huge lump of lo mein into your mouth that your phone lit up, indicating that you received a notification. You stuffed the noodles into your mouth and grabbed your phone off of the table, dropping your wooden chopsticks into the rest of your dish.

“What did they say?” Dejun asked as he bit into an egg roll.

“Depends,” you read out. “Would I get paid for it?” You practically exclaimed the last part. It was fair that they were wondering about payment after all, who would want to tutor for free? The thought of the amount in your bank account had you cringing, you couldn’t afford to pay for a tutor at the minute. Although, you couldn’t afford to fail your module, either. So it was a lose-lose sotuation. You sighed before shoving another chopstick full of noodles into your mouth as you thought of a reply, eyes never leaving your screen. “How can I say, ‘no I cant’t but I really need your help’ without sounding desperate?”

“You can’t.” Yangyang replied matter-of-factly, chewing on his mapo tofu.

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

no but u’d have my gratitude forever???????

from: 13X XXXX XXXX

Oh.

[typing. . .]

I’ll have to think about it.

[typing. . .]

Just kidding! I’ll help you out, free of charge. Would you like to do it over the phone or meet IRL?

You cheered loudly when their last text delivered. “I’m guessing they said yes?” Dejun said, smirking smugly. You nodded, grinning widely as your fingers flew on the keyboard in your phone.

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

omg ur a lifesaver!!!!! maybe over the phone?? it’ll probably be more convenient foe the both of us :)

from: 13X XXXX XXXX

Gotcha. We can discuss our schedule sometime tomorrow.

*

Your tutor, Wong Kunhang, was surprisingly really helpful. He was much more friendly than you thought he would be, immediately introducing himself after greeting you over the phone. For the entire three hours that the two of you were on the phone, he was nothing but the epitome of patience. Not only that, but he explained everything in a way that you could easily understand and even cracked a lame joke or two to break the tension whenever he noticed that you were becoming incredibly frustrated. By the end of the session, you felt microscopically better about calculus. While you couldn’t say that you were especially ecstatic for the upcoming lectures and assignments, it was safe to say that, while you had a long way to go, things were sort of looking up.

from: Wong Kunhang (tutor)

Same time next week?

to: Wong Kunhang (tutor)

definitely!!

[typing. . .]

also if ur comfortable with it can we pls video chat instead?? i think it would be much quicker than us sending each other pictures back and forth

from: Wong Kunhang (tutor)

That’s a good idea! I can’t believe we didn’t think of it earlier ahahaha.

*

As you worked through the practice problems that Kunhang prepared for you, you couldn’t help but sneakily stare at your phone to catch a glimpse of him repeatedly. It sure came as a surprise when it came time for the video call and you found yourself face to face with a Disney Prince who came to life. There was no other way to sum up how handsome he was. He somewhat reminded you of Prince Eric—what with his black hair, wide, bright eyes and kind smile. It wasn’t as if you thought or expected that he would he unnattractive. In fact, you hadn’t really wondered about what he would look like at all since you had a long list of priorities. None of which included thinking about whether or not you would find your tutor attractive.

But still. Kunhang was definitely one of those people who were blessed with beauty and brains. One of the Universe’s favorites, if you will.

“You good? Are you stuck on something?” You started at Kunhang’s voice, eyes flying from your phone to your page and back to meet his expectant look. You murmured a negative and resolutely kept your gaze on your work for the next half an hour to avoid a repeat of what had just jappened.

*

After nearly two months, the tutoring session had become a bi-weekly thing. Sort of. Somewhere in between you whining about every question but toughing it out and him encouraging you while also lightly teasing you, you and Kunhang became friends. One of the two sessions somehow always ended up with the both of you chatting, completely abandoning the unsolved equations in favor of getting to know one another, or, mostly recently, switching back and forth between the show that the two of you suggested to one another.

This week you would be tuning into his suggestion, Love Death + Robots. Kunhang would talk every now and again during some parts, especially when it came to his favorites, but you found that you didn’t really mind. Not when he sounded so (adorably) excited about it. The series itself was pretty good so far albeit short – six episodes in total, and the two of you were already on the fourth one – which meant that the you that you recommended (The Office because you were astounded that he hadn’t watched at least one episode) would soon become the primary source of entertainment since the two of you were only on season three.

As you stood in the snacks aisle, internally debating one which type of popcorn you should purchase (salted or buttered? the microwaveable kind or loose kernels? also, which brand? there were so many options, maybe too many,) your phone vibrated in your pocket. Swapping your basket from your non-dominant hand to your dominant one, you pulled out your phone and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” Kunhang greeted back brightly, “uh, so listen, I know we have our thing later but one of my sisters is moving out of her apartment and she asked me to help. Is it okay if we cancel?” The poor guy sounded super apologetic.

“Yeah, totally! Help her out!”–briefly, you thought about offering your assistance before deciding against it because that would be awkward and weird. Weirdly awkward. Awkwardly weird. Whatever–“I mean, it’s not like what we do is a set thing, anyway. I’ll probably ask the guys to hang out instead.” You eyed your basket full of snacks and made a mental note to grab the particular brand of potato chips that Dejun liked, already predicting that he would agree.

The silence that followed seemed to stretch on for hours on end. You would have assumed that the line dropped or went dead for some reason but you could definitely hear some shuffling sounds on the other side and, in a totally non-creepy way, Kunhang’s breathing.

“Right,” he finally replied, drawling the word out. There was another silence that felt extremely awkward. You wondered what facial expression he was making at the moment. It could have possibly clued you into what he as thinking. “Well that’s all I wanted to say I guess.”

“Oh,” you mumbled and then after a beat, you followed up with, “do you prefer salted or buttered popcorn? I’m trying to choose right now but I can’t decide.”

“Definitely salted. Buttered always leaves my mouth feeling weird.” You hummed while trapping you phone in between your ear and shoulder so that you could grab the generic box brand of microwaveable salted popcorn. The conversation carred on without anymore awkward pauses. You picked up a couple of items that he recommended every now and again, trusting his judgement. “Hey, you know what we should do?” Kunhang said as you queued up for the self-service checkout line, eyeing the items on display. When you hummed in response, he followed with, “we should hang out next week. In real life. We could do it on Sunday so you’ll still have one day of tutoring.”

It felt somewhat embarrassing that you agreed so quickly to his suggestion. You definitely should have played it cool but you had been meaning to ask him the same thing for a while now, so you were glad that he suggested it. “We can meet up at a café or something! Maybe have lunch? I’m paying, though!” It was only fair since he was helping you out for free.

“Lunch sounds good.”

“Great!”

“Great!” Kunhang mimicked, just as enthusiastically. “I’ve got to go but I’ll text you later?”

Both of you said your goodbyes then hung up. After tucking your phone back into your pocket, you made your way to the till that just freed up and began scanning your items. Once everything was paid for and bagged, you retrieved your phone to shoot a quick text in the group chat with Yangyang and Dejun, asking them if they felt like watching a movie franchise with you. They agreed, but only after Yangyang asked if ‘you’re weekly date with Kunhang got cancelled’ which earned him a picture of you flipping him off.

*

“Today’s the big date, huh?” Yangyang asked teasingly as you checked your appearance in the mirror once more, sprawled out on the couch as he made his way through his third mango pudding cup. From beside him, Dejun and Yukhei – the newest addition to your friend group since he and Dejun had to do an assignment together – gave your form an assessing once over.

Dejun, smiling mischievously, said, “obviously, can’t you tell by how nicely they’re dressed.”

You mock glared at the pair while Yukhei lightly slapped Dejun for his comment. Then he, bless his heart, beamed at you and said, “you look great!”

“Thank you,” you replied, smiling sweeting at him before addressing the other two, you firmly said, “and it’s not a date. We’re just hanging out, like the three, now four”–you corrected, glancing over at Yukhei–“of us do on a regular basis.”

“Oh, are they just a friend from your course then or something?” Yukhei asked curiously while Dejun and Yangyang hummed in unison, disbelief clear in their tones.

“No, it’s this guy, he helps me out with calculus. We’ve never met in person but he’s really nice.”

“I should hope so,” muttered Yangyang, peeling the seal off another mango pudding cup. “You’ve been crushing on him for a while now, so it would be a bummer if he wasn’t.” He said through a mouthful.

“Am not!”

“Are too!” Dejun countered for him.

“Am not,” Yangyang mimicked. “So what about all the times you’ve mentioned him then, huh?” And then he placed his pudding cup on the table, clasped his hands together by his cheeks and, in a voice that was meant to sound like yours, said, “‘oh, Kunhang told me this stuff is really good, we should try it out!’, ‘Kunhang is so smart!’, ‘can you believe Kunhang volunteers at the animal shelter and the nursery home as much as he can? Isn’t that so sweet?’, ‘Kunhang has such a Disney Prince smile!’. You gush about him all the time, it’s kinda sickening.”

You threw your arm out at him as you looked towards Dejun, hoping for some back up but you should have known better. They were your best friends after all. Dejun simply shrugged as he snatched a pudding cup from the coffee table and said, “to be fair, you do gush about him a lot. And! Whenever you text him, which most of the time, you get this goofy smile one your face.”

“Huh,” Yukhei mumbled, his tone full of thought. “This guy sounds a lot like one of my buddies.” The three of you looked at him with wide, curious eyes. When he noticed, he added, “it’s probably just a coincidence?” Although his tone suggested otherwise.

“Probably,” you replied as you grabbed your keys and shoved them in your pocket. “I’ve gotta get going or else I’ll be late.” You said as you made a beeline towards the door and slipped on the shoes you thought best suited your outfit. “Don’t wait up!”

“Why?” Yangyang replied just as you were about to close the door, playfulness evident in his voice, “I thought it was just lunch.” The other two cackled at that but you flipped him off and left the apartment, trusting that one of them would like the door behind you.

It was fortunate that you managed to catch the bus on time. After paying the appropriats fare, you made your way towards the back, earphones plugged in so that you could listen to some music along the way. Once seated, you took out your phone sent a text to Kunhang to let him know that you were on your way. His response was immediate, informing you that he was already nearby because his sister had asked him to run an errand for her, and asked you to text him when you were close.

Horizon was a cute little place that served as both a café and restaurant. It was sandwiched between a thrift shop and music store but, surprisingly, didn’t look the least bit out of place among the buildings. As you walked closed to it, you saw Kunhang standing by the entrance, bopping his head as he used his phone.

“Kunhang!” You called when you were close enough, after taking off your earphones and stuffing them into your pocket. Judging from the way he jolted slightly, you startled him. “Hey,” you greeted warmly when he removed his earphones. “You could have waited inside.”

Kunhang shrugged, a brilliant smile etched onto his face, “I thought it’d be easier if we walked in together.”

When you entered, you thought that you would have to find somewhere else to eat due to the amount of people present, but the staff who was waiting by the door only asked if you were eating in and then lead you to a table in the far corner of the room, right beside the window.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, y’know, in person.” Kunhang said as he browsed through the menu.

“You too,” you replied, peeking up from your own menu to find him wearing a hint of a smile. “I can’t believe it took us this long to be honest.”

Kunhang chuckled at that and nodded in agreement.

The meal seemed to fly by even though you left Horizon a little later than expected. You were still laughing as you headed out, thanking the waiter that served you one more time as you passed by him, at a story that Kunhang recounted that took place during his childhood. Although his texting style suggested otherwise, Kunhang was hilarious—which you knew already since he often made you laugh whenever you were on the phone with him, it was just a different feeling compared to the experience in person. You were almost sad at the thought of your time being over with him, until he jammed his hands into his pockets and, rocking back and forth on his herl, asked if you wanted to go get some ice cream since he knew a really good place nearby. And who were you to say no to that offer?

After fighting, again, over who would pay, the two of you roamed around for a bit, slipping into this store and that to window shop. Only when the stores began to close did you realize how late it had gotten. It wasn’t dark out, not yet, and you were surprised that several hours had passed since you first met up with Kunhang.

“Ready to call it quits?” You asked as the two of you began to make your way to where you would wait for your bus.

Kunhang shook his head and pointed somewhere behind you. “Let’s go to the playground over there. Race you.” And with that, he took off, leaving you to stare at him dumbfoundedly until your brain registered what he said and you ran after him.

“Cheater!” You huffed when you reached him, hands on your knees as you caught your breath.

Kunhang did nothing but through his head back and laugh at you. Attractively. It was something to ignore—his attractiveness, that was. But it was awfully difficult and all you could do was hope that he didn’t notice how you were looking at him. You couldn’t help it! Even though his outfit was relatively basic – just some gray-brown sweatshirt, black joggers and a pair of white sneakers – he looked effortlessly good. And it wasn’t just his appearance that made him attractive, either, oh no, because that just wasn’t enough. He also had to have an amazing personality.

“Let’s go over there,” he said after he sobered up, nodding towards the spring riders. “No racing this time.” He added with a wide grin. You weren’t able to suppress your own grin quick enough, rolling your eyes as you shoved his shoulder.

“I’m glad we met up today,” you admitted sincerely as you rocked back and forth on the spring ride. “You’re even better in person.”

Kunhang stopped rocking on his spring ride and looked at you. “I’m glad we met up today, too.” He told you with a smile that turned into one that was more sweet and shy as he said, “we should do it again some time, y’know, when we aren’t flooded with assignments and stuff.”

“Totally!”

“How about, maybe,”–Kunhang’s tongue darted out a sliver of his to wet his lips–“as a date?”

You stared at him in shock which he met head-on, that sweet, shy smile of his still present. You could feel a smile threaten to rise and you allowed it, messing with the hem of your top as you nodded in agreement. “That would be nice.”

“Really?” He asked, his tone both excited and unbelieving. When you assured him that you would be really looking forward to it, he said, “that’s– that’s great! I can’t wait, either.” Then, he jumped of his spring ride, held out his hand and pressed a feather light kiss to your knuckles like the Disney Prince he was when you placed your hand in his.

“We should probably head home.” You said, hand still in his. Kunhang never let go, so you figured he was okay with you interlocking your fingers and swinging your hands back and forth.

Like the gentleman he was, he waited for your bus with you and waited until you got on it, blowing kisses at you through the window. Your smile was so big your cheeks began to hurt as you pretended to catch the kisses.

(Later, after you had told Yangyang about how the day went swimmingly, you received a text from Kunhang and couldn’t help but huff out a small laugh. Your room-mate shot you a curious look so you let him read the text.

from: kunhang 💘

You know Yukhei?!?!?!!!!)

#this took a much different turn than i thought it would andnsk #but i hope it was worth the read #also question: do my fics ever sound like a self-insert???? like i mean not reader insert but like y/n is me if that makes sense???????? #cause i sure hope it doesnt omg its not meant to be i promise #i’ve been thinking about it recently cause of this tiktok i watched 😫 #but yeah anyways i keep listening to first love + good time on repeat #when mark says ‘ur my my’ and ‘tell me tell me’ and sichengs parts in good time 🥲🥲 #sicheng’s parts in good time has been my sole reason for existance lately #i felt it so deeply that AND his insta post from 2 weeks ago affected me so much that i started a draft for him #but i also have drafts for other members that im like hmmmmmmm #although i havent done a sicheng fic since i wrote that pocket!sized sicheng fic and also the smau i started #(and kind of abandoned but i’ll get back to it in the summer maybe) #also 7dream cb 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲 #i’ll keep rambling if i don’t start typing the Official tags so here they are: #wayv #wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv au #wayv fluff #wayv hendery #wayv kunhang #wong kunhang #hendery fluff #hendery imagines #hendery scenarios #nct #nct au #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct hendery

[saintobio]

I'm eating sandwich on our dining table while reading chp 5... My heart went-💔 when I know that Sera will be there and-(gosh I can't type his name now IT HURTS) he's looking for her this whole time and then when he's trying to put those shoes on her-😭💔 I run to my room just as mc running away from them not to witness how sweet they are (also to hide my sobbing face from my family here😐) (╥﹏╥) and thank goodness there's Toji my ghhaad-😭 I was screaming internally that he should take y/n far away from that man, take this pain away, forget that husband lmao... But then surprisingly, this husband does care for y/n because he didn't leave y/n side til morning and that's... Unexpected or just to show his goody sides😐 then Sera showed up and I-😐 can't wait for the husband's pov and some hidden explanations🙂 this chap is mixed of emotions... But I'm ok2 here🥺 truly what a wonderful writing and chap again ai-san~💛 thank you sooo much bby now take a rest and stay safe there~💛

Anonymous said

omg, reading the sn update was such a rollercoaster !! sobs

it would be so cute if toji & y/n got close and she becomes the cool, fun aunt or friend (?) for megumi—is it okay to ask how old he is in this series?

++ with their friendship, i’d imagine that y/n would always be like, “wow, it’s really not that obvious.”

then toji would fall for it every time and snort, saying, “what, that i’m almost forty?”

then y/n would reply, “no. that you’re just thirty-five.” LMAOOO

pls i just wish she gets a confidant along the way 🥺 she deserves the world honestly pls she’s so precious!!! hrhfhrhf. thank you for the update, btw! this silent reader right here enjoyed it a lot. 🤗.

Anonymous said

you probably wont understand this but caralho sincerely not ta fazendo eu ficar biruta de vdd

your writing is sooooo good fr i just woke up at 3 in the morning and rn its 5 in the morning and im so auhahahwuuwuqhshsihsjsbbsjshdiwheh because of sincerely not

Anonymous said

I was holding up fine with the shoes fuckery he pulled but omg him calling us "attention seeker" REALLY fucking hurt me so much lmao. Imagine the next time we actually have much sharper, stabbing chest pains which are more frequent and also last a bit longer and WHEN satoru starts actually caring a little and asks if we're okay, we just go, "oh this?? The doctor said it's a severe case of me attention seeking ^-^ Don't mind me baby, you go chase your happiness! :)))" (THAT TOO WHILE IN PAIN) - ⛈

Anonymous said

i hateeee ongoing fics i swore id never read them because the waiting makes me go insane or i forget to read updates but since i discovered u, i literally just cant stop myself from tuning in every single fic—even if its a character i don't usually simp for 😭 i love ur work sm omg

@chaveisa said

i just binged what you have of sincerely not so far and all i can say is i’m in so much pain. you are quite literally one of my favorite writers on this platform and you wreck me so bad with the angst but it’s all angst i love. truly love how you’ve written gojo in this one and can’t wait to see what you have in store!

ps— i found you through wastelands and when i tell you i was wrecked for a solid week >~< truly keep up the good work bb🖤

Anonymous said

ohhhh the asks are open 😳 i just wanted to say that sn is a fuckin masterpiece. reading the latest chapter (about that the shoes that princess diana wore) i really think that y/n-gojo- sera situation is similar to diana-charles-camilla's story. oof i really hope that isn't some sort of foreshadowing cuz EYE-🚶‍♀️💨

Anonymous said

hmmmm i love me some good heavy angst gojo fics.... BUT WTF WAS SINCERELY YOURS HOLY SHIT I'VE JUST READ IT IN ONE SITTING AND NOW MY NOSE IS CLOGGED 👁️👄👁️

@juniorhooter said

FR im scared to start Sincerely Not,, i still have wounds from Wastelands and idk if my heart is ready. Like im seeing all these ppl mad at gojo. I haven't even read it yet, and im mad at gojo. I dont fully know whats happening yet but get with #WeHateHoejoSlutoru and #WeLoveTojiFushiguro. I'll read it eventually... soon... maybe, if im feeling self-destructive. But in the meanwhile, good luck to everyone else going through the turmoil :))

@blossomingwaifu16 said

OMG THE ASKS ARE OPEN AGAIN!! My friend sent me Sincerely not (beacuse she knows I'm a masochist and love hurting myself- 💀) and damn! it did not disappoint- also reading it made me realise how petty I can be 😭 like everytime Gojo was being mean to the mc I'd be like "fuck you gojo your girlfriend is way nicer then you I'd rather fuck her bitchboy" and that's coming from someone straight 💀 but in chapter 5 I was like "fuck ya'll I wanna be single again-" IT WAS A ROLLERCOASTER of emotions and I'm here for it! And oh boy the scenarios I have in my head to make gojo suffer 😈. Anyways I love the writing and could I please be added to the taglist!? I've been meaning to ask but your asks were closed 😊

3rd anon what does that mean jssndj but omg thank u guysss aaaaa i’m sorry i’m unable to respond individually as i also have lots of asks to answer still but i appreciate ur messages <33 i enjoyed reading all ur reactions so far!! :’)

also, all taglists are full! i’m sorry.

#saintobio.asks #series: sincerely not

[gwoongi]

dancer in the dark (pt. 1)

jeon jeongguk / reader genre: rockstar/pop-punk au, smut, angst & fluff rating: explicit words: 33k warnings: slowburn, explicit sexual themes, alcohol use, recreational rockstar drug use, smoking, adult language, dark themes including negative side-effects of drug use and drinking including intoxication & irrational behaviour, dry humping, mental health struggle, koo has an australian accent, unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism, if things feel good in this fic then wait 4 part two to ruin everything a/n: ok.....hear me out......guk as a lead singer of an alternative-punk-rock band....and he looks like this......and this….. AND THIS………and his band r basically chase atlantic......Ok ur welcome & pls give this fic a chance!!!!!!!!!! i luv it a lot and its probs my fav so far ˭̡̞(◞⁎˃ᆺ˂)◞*✰ def a long one so get ur tea and blankets and buckle up! notes: have it. this has been in my drafts since like july. just take it and smile.

dedicated to @httpjeon, who force fed me pictures of rocker jeongguk and repeatedly kept me sane + motivated. thank u sm 

Money can’t buy you happiness. Jeongguk, for the longest time, thinks he’s happy. Truthfully, Jeongguk doesn’t know what happiness is until you find him.

BIRTH OF DEVILS. (LONDON)

“That was August Blue in the Live Lounge, covering Thanks For The Memories by Fall Out Boy. These guys have some right talent, don’t they? Yeah...well, you can keep up to date with them by watching their interview with us on IPlayer right now, and they’re also going to be on tour in London and various other American venues within the next few months. I’m proper excited for that...”

No matter how many interview schedules and radio plays, Jeongguk doesn’t feel as though he is ever going to get used to this feeling. 

For now, it is an endless series of chaos, radio stations and newspapers wanting to talk to the newest music craze- because that’s what August Blue were, whether Jeongguk liked that or not. 

August Blue were a band who nobody thought could make it. From early fans of the band, when they were barely filling up Korean venues and getting more than a thousand views on original songs, to big-name celebrities like Axel Choi who had waltzed into Jeongguk’s part-time job when he was seventeen. The man, one of Jeongguk’s idols, had looked him in the eye, considered his band and his dream and said he didn’t have the talent to do anything good with his band, and told him, if you want to be big, you have to be American.

It wasn’t quite the same, or what Axel had intended for it to mean, but four years later Jeongguk now sits number one on the Billboard Charts with his ‘band with no potential’, making a name for themselves, bringing pride to their culture, love with their music, and money to Korea’s economy. The amount of fans that August Blue had collected over the four years of Jeongguk’s band being formally considered a band were unimaginable, many flocking to landmarks to photograph lampposts he stood next to on Instagram, others going to his home-country to enjoy the country that had birthed icons. 

If only Jeongguk had the same love and pride for his country; they had turned their backs on them simply because of their popularity overseas. 

Well, fuck them- Jeongguk and his band are going somewhere no other Korean band or artist can even touch, and while we’re on the subject- Axel Choi can eat a dick! Jeongguk’s not doing so bad for a Busan boy working at 7-Eleven, and while Jeongguk’s drinking champagne like a King on the top of the charts, it’s hard to see everybody else at the bottom.

August Blue leave the BBC Broadcasting House, on their way to the hotel for their last two nights in London before heading back to America. It doesn’t quite feel real yet, for Jeongguk to say that his band have sold out two nights at the O2 Academy Brixton. Admittedly, it’s not as big as their shows in America, which similarly happens to be where most of their fans are located, but for a first time in the UK, it’s a dream to see it sold out with his band's name and faces on billboards nearby.

Beside him in the black van, August Blue’s bassist Hoseok sighs deeply and fastens his seatbelt, his hands immediately rummaging into his coat pocket to pull out his phone. Nevertheless, a smile does dance on his lips; a few fans had gathered outside the building to see them off, as well as welcome them when they arrived for their Live Lounge recording and interview. It still feels surreal for Jeongguk to see his face on shirts, and to hear people call his name. As the car begins to pull out of the car park, Jeongguk squints through the darkened glass at the fans, a bright smile on his face as they cheer, right until the car is out of the building vicinity.

“Should arrive at the hotel in thirty.” From the passenger seat, August Blue’s manager twists to face the band in the back seats. Jeongguk barely lifts his face to see him, his eyes glancing over and then moving back out the window, watching London pass by in a blur. “Try and get some shut-eye. Good job today, guys.”

“Thanks, coach,” Seokjin replies. It’s always Seokjin who does the talking, taking the role of Big Bro whenever August Blue’s lead vocal and, let’s face it, the reason why they have fans, Jeongguk, isn’t feeling particularly chatty, which is more often than not. “Let’s keep working hard, yeah?”

The question is directed out to everybody in the van, and Jeongguk finally looks over. He nods, gently and smiles as if it hurts him to be genuine, and then his attention is back out the window, his mind back with the fans who had screamed for him, his heart filled with the warmth of the memory.

It’s good to be loved, to be accepted. It’s good to be successful when people doubted you could do it.

THE DEVILS ARE DANCING. (VENICE)

“It sounds really good, Jeongguk. Want me to run it one more time?”

Jeongguk shrugs the weight of his jacket off his shoulders, twisting the cable attaching to his headphones so they unravel around his body and raises his thumb through the glass to the rest of the studio. On cue, the familiar sound of the opening melody to August Blue’s updated track, Hold Your Breath, floods through the speakers, slightly tinny but nonetheless clear for all to hear. While Sejin, August Blue’s manager, aids the producer by pointing out minor audio flaws, Jeongguk joins the rest of his band in the studio to gather around. The last to join the group is Seokjin, the drummer who rubs at his wrists pathetically, his duet of drumsticks poking out of his back pocket.

Sejin’s right- it does sound good.

The strums from Hoseok, Taehyung and Namjoon’s instruments sounds incredible, and it’s probably their strongest non-punk track of the year. Retrospectively, it sounds nostalgic, reminding Jeongguk of those summer evenings in Busan after a tiring day of school and garage-band practise with the guys. When the chorus moulds together, Jeongguk’s lips lift to a satisfied and exuberant smile, the harmonies from everybody’s vocals blending together before the chorus comes to a finale, and Namjoon’s deeper vocals come for the second round of verses.

As he listens, Jeongguk recalls the moment he sat down and wrote this song, back when he was eighteen and feeling like the world was against him. In that respect, this song means a lot to him and the band, reminiscent of a time where it felt impossible to get out of the garage and into venues. Then, when Friends brought them out of small Korean venues into charts abroad and giving them radio play, Jeongguk had stored Hold Your Breath on a memory stick and his worn out lyric book, until the right moment came for him to present it to a studio. It just so happened that ADORA, a respected and famous Korean producer based in the US-of-A, had loved the track, bringing it back to square one where Jeongguk stands still, unaware that the single has finished playing.

“It’s one of our best,” Namjoon admits bashfully, his hand brushing the back of his neck, a habit. He extends his gaze out to the rest of the band, “am I right?”

“Better than Friends?” Seokjin asks, surprised. He tilts his head as if he disagrees. “Nothing can beat Friends.” After that statement, something about another song comes up in conversation but it dies out over the sound of Hold Your Breath being rolled back and played again.

On the other side of Jeongguk, Hoseok hums and claps the younger on the shoulder, the sound of Jeongguk’s hiss ignored and silenced by the excited discussion over the track by the producers, lunch menus between Seokjin and Namjoon. With a slight wince, Jeongguk looks over at the bassist.

“It’s all thanks to you!” Hoseok says, a tight but honest smile on his face. “Without you, there’d be no songs. I’m telling you, we knew you were special!”

“Thanks, Hobi,” Jeongguk replies quietly. “Let’s hope people like it and it sells.”

“Why wouldn’t it?” Hoseok muses, frowning. “Just because it has a story doesn’t mean it won’t sell. Honestly, Guk, this one’s great. It’s gonna be amazing.”

Like always, Jeongguk finds that difficult to believe, despite records and albums selling luxuriously every time. It’s mandatory to doubt, especially when you’ve got a lot to lose; August Blue are just another band, another group of guys trying to make a name for themselves across the pond. Right now, they’re not huge, not as big as Jeongguk wants them to be- they can sell out a couple arenas, top charts and headline shows, but they’ve still got a long way to go, still got the prejudice of being foreign. If anything, that only motivates them more. Nothing feels better than proving the white man wrong.

“When it’s finished, we’ll have a promising B-side for the album,” starts Adora, the producer looking over her shoulder with satisfaction at the five guys. “I’d like to run through Dancer in the Dark, though? Adjust the drums, maybe add more to the sax?”

Jeongguk nods, taking a quick sip of water from a bottle on top of the small cabinet pushed to the wall of the studio. “Might work better as the A, actually. Guys, what’dya think?”

“Yeah, sure,” Namjoon replies. “It’s a good song- will probably look better with a music video too. Want us back in the booth for it?”

Adora shakes her head, rolling the song back up. “Nah. Just gonna listen for now. Good job, guys.”

With that, and the familiar opening melody of Dancer in the Dark filtering through the speakers, Sejin claps his hands and gives a thumb to the rest of the band, sending them off for an hour or two until they’re needed again. In ADORABLE TRAP Records, singers were more often than not props, voices for her to play with. Jeongguk provides a demo, a rough idea of what the song should sound like and Adora works her magic, changing tones and amplifying the bass, creating something magical and sensational for when August Blue regroup in the studio at a later time. The band trust Adora and her team, considering she’s half the reason why they’re big worldwide in the first place.

THREE AM is August Blue’s anticipated first full length album, after many months of EP’s and mini albums, alongside the handful of covers accumulated over the years. ATR expects it to be completed by the end of the week, with only minor final touches needed on a select few of the tracks, eleven seamless and sensually exciting songs ready to release to the budding and hungry public. Like always, the pressure of perfection hangs over the studio, intoxicating and infuriating, and as soon as he can escape the room, Jeongguk inhales the clean and purified air of the outer studio, where a leather sofa sits beside a flickering vending machine that’s surely seen better days.

Hoseok groans, massaging the cramp out of his shoulder with his leather jacket still in his hand, spinning wildly with the arms extended out, hugging the air. “God, I’m so fucking hungry. Shall we go out?”

“Mm,” Namjoon agrees, “sounds good. Guk, Jin, you in for some food?”

Somewhere behind Jeongguk, Seokjin sighs loudly- a noise that has the nerve to sound like a whine, childish and ungrateful. “I need to find new drumsticks. Look at the state of these things.” Over his shoulder, Jeongguk spies the blunt ends of Seokjin’s sticks, the smooth and rounded ends frayed and close to splintering.

“How did that even happen?” Hoseok asks incredulously, while Seokjin’s distinct laughter rises in volume.

“Don’t ask,” Seokjin shakes his head in reply. “Anyway, won’t take long. Isn’t that one store nearby? The one owned by the Daegu guy?”

Namjoon confirms this. Not too far away from ATR, located in a renovated storage house in Venice, there is a comfortably successful and trustworthy store that August Blue aren’t strangers to; DBOY is one of the best, expensive and well respected amongst musicians who frequent LA. Jeongguk recognises the name, as if on command picturing the small guy who runs it in his head. 

Of course, it’s not owned by him- DBOY is known for being established and owned by Min Dowoon, a retired music producer whose name is legendary amongst artists and most certainly intimidating to the likes of Busan boys like Jeongguk. Regardless, it is his son, Yoongi, who pretty much runs the place. From what Jeongguk can vaguely remember from the last time he met with Yoongi, he recalled the aforementioned to have a fine and grand collection of ostentatious instruments and equipment. As for the seller himself- well, Yoongi can be a little bit of a nouveau-riche, perhaps even unapproachable, but it’s not as if people go to DBOY looking for a conversation.

Jeongguk might be the lead vocalist of the band, but he most certainly does not regard himself the leader. Due to this fact, he stares back at the other members of the band, waiting for a decision to be made for him. While on stage, Jeongguk enjoys playing pretend and acting as if the world was his for the taking, his for his pleasure, off-stage he enjoyed living quietly and comfortably, some might say obediently, shying under the authority of his elder band-members.

“What? Yeah, of course,” Namjoon replies almost immediately. “It’s on the way to that Korean place we went to last time we came here.”

Taehyung sounds zealous at the mentioning of the Korean restaurant, which pretty much means everybody’s mind has been made up. When Seokjin catches up with Jeongguk and wraps his longer arms around him playfully, Jeongguk finally lets himself loosen the tension carved into his skin from the studio, being pulled and pulling Seokjin out of the studio and into the sunny street.

The drive to DBOY is neither long or difficult, considering the traffic has decided to fall on their side of luck today. Hoseok, who enjoys being the designated driver for the band whenever he can help it, turns right and pulls the car into the staff-only car park, uncaring for the signs that turn him away and parks awkwardly near the shrubs behind the store. 

Without being affected in the face of Seokjin’s disbelieving protests against Hoseok’s parking preferences, Jeongguk undoes his seatbelt in a grouchy silence and hops out, feeling the underneath of his knees aching due to the tightness of his jeans. The front face of his knees are torn, the tan skin poking out and slightly red from where, out of unhealthy habit, he scratches his skin, the only source of colour aside from his skin being the mustard of his shoes, comfy and worn out of love.

He always forgets just how warm America is- not that it’s not welcomed, of course. Only, now he half wishes he hadn’t worn an all-black ensemble, the sun hot on his neck and underarms. The rest of August Blue take their gentle time getting out of the hired vehicle, a cacophony on the right side where Seokjin and Hoseok have stepped out, arguing over the angle of the tyres as if it genuinely makes any difference considering the car is out of sight from the public, meaning it’s bothering nobody at all besides Seokjin, who appears to be the only person complaining. 

Jeongguk just rolls his eyes, over it, and brushes his untamed parting out of his eyes carefully, avoiding catching the curled strands on the bar of his eyebrow piercing.

DBOY, like always, is quiet and glorious, rising high against the bungalow-sized stores surrounding the lot. Its architecture is refined, boxy and brown and all-in-all American, a copy of every brown bricked building you’d see in the movies. And yet, it still stands out, with bright yellow accents like the colour of Jeongguk’s shoes, similarly promoted within the interior if Jeongguk remembers correctly. 

The first time Jeongguk had come here it had been with acquiesce, mostly just to shut Seokjin up after he read a few five star reviews online. That was around about the time Taehyung had joined the band, with little rockstar aura and a gift for the keyboard and saxophone, which incredibly added an accent to August Blue’s music that helped them chart worldwide, a Korean The 1975 as a headline which didn’t seem all that bad, given the leader of the latter seemed down to Earth about it. 

Jeongguk now cannot deny that DBOY offers something to a piece of music that quite literally no other can, hence why he sets off first towards the oversized yellow door and pushes it open with all its weight. Like Yoongi and his brusque facade, Jeongguk’s not shocked to find the door is a heavy metal, requiring attention to push it open, but yet it always catches him off guard, as if he’s expecting it to get easier each time.

Once inside, the all too familiar sound of I Want To Break Free greets his ears, the sound echoey and tinny, like you’d expect for a building with a high ceiling decorated with pipes drenched in the signature yellow. It is bright, and chilly as he enters due to the air-conditioning, yet the warmth engulfing him as all of the band enter and the door closes. On a good day, DBOY is virtually empty; majority of their orders are online and dealt with by another customs manager that is not the staff on duty, which coincidentally is how Yoongi likes it, considering he’s a bit of a black sheep, not exactly enthusiastic about talking when he can help it.

While Hoseok and Taehyung make a b-line towards the vinyls and collection of photographs that Yoongi displays in order to show off how many celebrities he’s had the delight of selling to, Jeongguk follows behind Seokjin and Namjoon as they head towards the desk, pushed towards the back of the store behind endless stacks of records, the left side of the store displaying a rare and gorgeous collection of instruments that Jeongguk ogles at as he passes. 

Yoongi is a personal collector of vintages, including exact pieces and similarly replicas, the newer models closer to the desk where the cameras can keep an extra eye on their condition. Jeongguk has half an idea to make a directional change and head right, but the opening to the operative desk appears before him, or over the shoulder of Namjoon as he walks behind him.

DBOY feels abnormally silent today, not even the distinct humming of Yoongi detectable in the stacks. Namjoon purses his lips, looking around half-heartedly before moving towards the desk, raising his hand to drum his fingers upon the varnished dark wood. The dull sound of his fingertips brings Jeongguk’s head away from the instruments, and similarly, a head from a book.

At first, Jeongguk’s only half-looking. In blunt honesty, he’s not too interested in whoever is behind the desk, a sigh leaving between his lips as he buries his hands into the pockets of his jeans with great difficulty due to the tightness, something which attracts the eyes of the little dove behind the desk, her eyes darting to the refined bulge of his biceps and veins crawling on his forearms.

“Oh,” comes a gentle voice that, with reluctance, pulls Jeongguk’s eyes back over. “Sorry. I didn’t even hear you come in! I didn’t even hear the bell…”

Namjoon’s eyebrows pull upwards. “You have a bell?”

“Yeah...I think?” Questionable. “Well, I thought we did...I bet Yoongi took it out again. Fucker, he doesn’t tell me anything.”

Seokjin leans backwards on one foot, taking a peek back towards the doors where, hoorah, there is a bell on the wall above the entrance. “Oh, look at that. Guess you do have a bell.”

“Well,” finishes the voice, and Jeongguk takes the chance to look at the little display on top of the desk, a complementary addition that spells out the cashiers name in a disgustingly ordinary font. Y/N is what it reads today, which Jeongguk makes a note of and looks away from at the same time. “That bell is definitely broken. Huh. Anyway, sorry. Can I help you?”

“Yoongi here?” Namjoon asks, his weight now entirely reliant on the weight of the desk. By this point, Jeongguk has led himself over to the instruments, the only sight of him being his back marked and outlined by the clinginess of his tee.

You nod once, smiling and slamming the book from your lap on the top of the desk. Never did Namjoon expect for the title to read The Encyclopedia of Sharks, and as you spin in your chair to heckle in the back office, Namjoon glances at Seokjin over his shoulder with an amused smile, his eyes gesturing back to the book earning Seokjin a snigger.

“...and you didn’t tell me the bell was broken at the door.”

Your voice enters the store once more from the back office, accompanied by the smaller frame of Yoongi as he discards a tinfoil ball into the trash underneath the desk.

“Sorry. Y/N, the bell at the door is broken,” Yoongi deadpans, and you sneer in reply, tugging away from his childish and playful smile to be seated. When he’s decided he’s finished fondly looking at you, Yoongi addresses the band in the room, a secondary smile lifts the corners of his lips. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry, tour,” Namjoon offers as an explanation.

“Don’t sweat it,” Yoongi shrugs in reply. “You recording?”

“As we speak,” Seokjin pipes in. “And, look- went to some stores in Vancouver for sticks last year and got given this!” His tone is elevated with genuine aghast, holding up his drumsticks and Yoongi pulls a face.

“That’s what you get for going somewhere other than here,” Yoongi frowns. “Come with me. The newest collection actually just came in. You all in here? Keep sticky fingers away from my signed records.”

The remainder of their conversation is muted for you, as you watch the group of guys shuffle away from the desk and towards the display of instruments. Whereas Yoongi holds an extensive knowledge on music and instruments, you can happily and readily admit that it is not within your comfort zone.

Truth be told, the only reason you work at DBOY is for money, and because Yoongi happens to be a relative willing to pay you more than you deserve. Family history is the reasoning for Yoongi’s undying devotion to music, alongside a half-completed degree in sound engineering that he tells people he’s got, because the two years he braved University sure as hell didn’t happen for no reason. 

As for you, you prefer the less audible arts, the ones starting and stopping with paintbrushes and splashes of colour. If someone were to ask, your job at DBOY offers a daily observation of the various album covers dotted around the store, ready to be fingered and thumbed when you’re changing the display shelves, or cleaning the trays.

In simpler terms, Yoongi is the expert. You’re just the person who sits behind the desk and pretends to be a professional.

“Newer Hickory over here,” says Yoongi, as he leads the three ducklings through the store towards the lined stacks of drumsticks. In awe, like a child in a candy store, Seokjin surges forward and gapes at the selection, his eyes glued to a signature collection, signed and overwhelmingly expensive. “Oh, yeah. Queen. Signed by Roger Taylor himself, wanna feel ‘em?”

Seokjin does want; his eyes light up like tiny lamps and they widen in size, followed by the rise and fall of his feet as he hops with literal overflowing excitement. Namjoon laughs at the sight of it, the sound eventually calling Hoseok and Sticky-Fingers-Taehyung away from the pride of Yoongi’s photo collection and towards the rest of the band. Something deep within Jeongguk claws, a smile on his face as he watches Seokjin get visibly excited over the drumsticks formerly belonging to Roger Taylor. Even Jeongguk himself, despite the sudden appearance of his angst, oohs and aahs at the stick set, being directed by Yoongi to the line of new guitars and boxes on show.

“New face?”

By the time Hoseok has settled with the group, Yoongi looks up from the set of Les Paul that Namjoon is admiring for its matte polish and notices Hoseok’s gaze pointed in your direction. Yoongi follows, his chin lifting with satisfactory pride when he sees you’re reading, as always, unfocused on the group and submerged in your own world.

When you wanted, you could be excited about celebrities when they came into DBOY, but there was honestly the high chance that you didn’t even know August Blue. Considering Yoongi knew them through connections and through a year exchange programme in Australia where he had met Jeongguk and gave him advice for the band, he of course felt familiar, close enough to actually consider the members to be friends.

“Sorta,” he admits in reply. “She’s been here a while now. Y/N.”

“She’s pretty,” Namjoon comments, which, to no surprise, irritates Yoongi. He glares in the direction of the guitarist and scowls, his face pulled up with disgust.

That’s when Jeongguk looks over, drinking in the sight of you for the first time ever. Usually, Jeongguk takes great pride in the fact that he fears attachment, therefore closing himself off emotionally to everybody outside of August Blue. Due to this fact, he almost never finds himself interested in anybody, his limitations at sex which, even then, he doesn’t engage in often. 

He spies on you from where he is standing, next to the electric guitar displays, watching carefully at the way you carry yourself, what you choose to show people. What you are doing now is boondoggle, skimming through pages you’ve read before to present the image of you being busy. By luck, you had dressed more nicer than usual for this date- your hair pulled half up and half down, the lilac scrunchy keeping the curls together and a black and white striped dress wrapping around your body to where Jeongguk predicts could be your knee.

Without being modest, there’s really nothing world-stopping about you. Jeongguk knows this as he stares at you; he’s had better, and definitely had worse. God forbid it, but you have the audacity to look normal, mistakenly placed in the store, sticking out like a thumb that is sore.

“She doesn’t look like she should be working here,” Jeongguk throws in, offers almost, and Yoongi regards him with the raise of his brows, an amused smile on his face.

A deep groan rises out of Namjoon’s chest. “Here we go. He always does this- every time there’s a pretty girl, he gets like this.”

“Gets like what?” Jeongguk asks, scoffing.

“Jerky,” Hoseok agrees, laughing and pointing a finger at Jeongguk accusingly. When he silences with small gasps of amusement, he smiles and says, “did you know it’s a turn off for girls?”

“Then tell me why I have more game than you?” Jeongguk quips.

Hoseok just laughs, and both of them know it’s false, considering Hoseok and his unofficial girlfriend have been hooking up for the last five months, whereas Jeongguk has remained single and sexless; which he doesn’t care about, especially when there’s a million other things he could be doing and worrying over. Comfort previously found in pillowcases and sexual endauvers can now be found in white powders and green liquids, either- either warm enough to keep him happy, at least until Seokjin tells him he should stop and put it to rest.

Yoongi quietly twists the key in the display lock after confirming that Seokjin wants the sticks in his hand. “She’s good. She does her job, and in return, I let her do what she wants when nobody’s in the store. Give it a break, yeah?”

Jeongguk scoffs with surrender, raising his shoulders as he lets it drop at Yoongi’s request. Meanwhile Yoongi answers questions about the instruments for sale, lined up for the band to gawk at with ungraciousness, Jeongguk actually turns back around. Another elongated sigh leaves his mouth, the sound of creeping boredom, and finally, his gaze once again settles on yourself. 

You’ve moved since he last looked over; the book on sharks is set on top of the desk again, and now you’re risen. From where he is standing, the desk curves, revealing that his predictions on dress length were fruitless considering the stretch of your dress rises above the knee, bunching around your thigh comfortably. He has to respect it- it’s hot in Venice.

Without particularly wanting to, Jeongguk’s legs wander from his original spot towards the desk, his eyes elsewhere to feign disinterest. The truth of the matter is that he isn’t really interested, unless you counted the dull rise of arousal in the pit of his stomach. That being said, Jeongguk glances up at your face once more and sucks air into his cheeks, hollowing the skin as he knocks on his heels and turns away from you before you can notice. Namjoon was right, to some extent. You were pretty.

“You like The Clash?”

A sweet voice hauls Jeongguk’s attention up and over towards the corner of the desk, where on the other side you stand with both hands flat on the surface, your entire body lifting your weight cutely. Jeongguk’s heart leaps and he glares down at his hands, finding London Calling in his hands, indicating that whilst on his solo mission of pretending to be preoccupied near you, he had just picked up the first thing in front of him.

Jeongguk clears his throat gruffly and shakes his head once. “No.”

For a few seconds, nothing is said. “Oh.” And Jeongguk hopes you’ll leave it there, let him pretend he’s invisible until he’s thought of something to say, but as always, his prayers are ignored. “Do you need help finding something?”

“No,” Jeongguk grits out. He speaks with acrimony, the tone at first catching you off-guard until he looks up, and his eyes tell a quiet story that makes your mouth close tightly. “I’m browsing. Am I not allowed to browse?”

Whether he likes or expects it, the way Jeongguk speaks makes a grin spread across your face, covering your original expression of surprise. He’s not quite sure how to feel about this, or what to make of how his chest feels when it happens.

“Sorry,” you reply, not exactly sounding apologetic. “It’s my job to ask, I guess. Well...enjoy your browsing. If you need me…” Repeatedly, his gaze lifts from the stack of CDs back towards you and it is only when you look away that he allows himself to slip, the smallest of frowns tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Although he knows better, Jeongguk sighs and pushes himself away from his end of the desk. It slides, semi-circular with the front in the store and behind it in its own secluded room, decorated with posters and old lockers that are used for storage. It doesn’t take looking up to register the fact that Jeongguk has moved next to you, parallel; something about Jeongguk feels particularly distinct, heavy and intimidating with the smell of hazelnut that enriches woody elements, a signature male smell that fills your nose.

“So.” Jeongguk starts over, his voice clipped but also clear, as though encouraging a conversation. To you, it feels unpredictable, almost as if talking to him was absurd; to Jeongguk, it is a bravado. “You like sharks.”

Out of surprise, your attention snaps towards him. His expression gives nothing away, and it is only when he raises his eyebrows expectantly that you remember the book, that stupid book you found under the desk when you clocked in this morning after your nine-am seminar. The Encyclopedia of Sharks, smiling razor blades face up at you and an embarrassed heat rises in your body.

“Um, not really?” you confess, avoiding the scrutiny of his stare. Jeongguk’s face is levelled into unamusement, challenging the fact you don’t like sharks in the same way you questioned his interest in The Clash. A bewildered smirk dawns on his face and you smile, tightly and revealing a dimple near your jaw that Jeongguk’s attention is pulled to. “I like Sharknado, though.”

“Right,” Jeongguk replies, finishing with a laugh that is mostly air through his teeth, a snigger of sorts, and he shakes his head downwards, fluffing his hair all within the same movement. It shocks you, genuinely, to hear a laugh come out from his mouth.

While he is busy sniggering to himself, because apparently what you said tickled his remaining sense of humour, you seize the opportunity to dance your eyes across his body. “Your tattoos are pretty.” It leaves your mouth carelessly, but Jeongguk looks up with a smile on his face, a gorgeous set of pearly whites on show.

“Yeah?” he asks, and then he flexes his arms unintentionally, peering at the black ink decorating his skin. Your mouth waters inside, soaking in the sight of him before it’s snatched away, like all the good things in your life. “Thanks.”

“Mhm,” you offer, feeling mortified.

“I saw you’re close with Yoongi,” Jeongguk mentions, after a short pause. “Boyfriend? Best friend? Super close colleagues?”

“What? Ew, no. Yoongi’s my cousin. Well. You know, when someone just becomes a cousin ‘cos you’re close,” you reply, and Jeongguk nods casually, pursing his lips, and it ends there. “Also...none of your business.” He smirks.

On cue, an eruption of laughter simmers from across the store where Yoongi and the rest of Jeongguk’s friends are gathered, and you swallow the lump in your throat and glance at him, finding he hasn’t looked away. “Are you guys, like...in a band, or something?”

Jeongguk doesn’t know what to say. Should he be offended or relieved that you don’t know who he is?

“Something like that,” he nods.

“Can’t be that popular then, if I don’t know you,” you tease, fighting the urge to laugh when Jeongguk’s face falls dramatically. “I’m kidding. What did you say your name was again?”

“We’re called August Blue.”

“No, I meant your name,” you laugh.

Jeongguk splutters, coughing nothing out of his throat. “Oh. Jeongguk.”

There is no reasonable explanation behind why Jeongguk’s stomach feels weird when you smile- it is an unspoken rule that Jeongguk doesn’t do feelings. Jeongguk doesn’t do romance period, only hooks up on the rare occasion that he’s high enough to feel something for someone other than himself. Yet something is unsettling inside, bubbling like the top layer of boiling water in a cauldron, threatening to spill out in waves.

“Well, Jeongguk from August Blue- who I shall be indulging in very soon, as in, when you leave the store and I can do it without you watching me-,” you pause when he laughs again. You wonder if he laughs often, or if you’re one of the lucky ones. “-, it’s a pleasure meeting you.”

“Is it?” he questions disbelievingly.

You tilt your head curiously. “Why wouldn’t it be? I mean, aside from you coming for me doing my job.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “Whatever. And, I’m just saying.”

A playfulness grabs at your shirt. “Why? Are you dangerous, Jeongguk?” Your eyes narrow into slits, challenging, and Jeongguk just smirks, exhaling softly. There is something charismatic about him, that’s for sure.

“All I’m saying, is that guys like me aren’t good for girls like you,” Jeongguk settles, unprepared for the unexpected laughter that bursts from your chest, bouncing around the room until Jeongguk actually feels somewhat uncomfortable. “What?”

But the laughter is uncontrollable, loud enough to bring Yoongi back to the desk questioningly, followed by the rest of August Blue as they shadow Yoongi like lost puppies. Yoongi pushes the small gate open and his eyes widen at you hunched over on the desk, secondly acknowledging Jeongguk as he stares deadpan at you, wondering what it was he said that was so comedic.

“You make it sound so simple,” you tell him, once the laughter has subsided. “It’s cute that you think you know what kind of girl I am.”

Hoseok side-eyes the situation as Seokjin fishes out his credit card, feeling as though they’ve all interrupted something they shouldn’t have. What is more shocking is the fact that Jeongguk accepts the challenge- he’s normally isolative with his voice when around new people, only comfortable at home or on the stage surrounded by people screaming lyrics he died to dream up and write down.

“Aren’t I right though?” Jeongguk asks, smiling like he’s got it figured out. “The pretty innocent girls like you...I’m the kind of guy your family warned you about.” While Namjoon snorts, Taehyung nods, supporting Jeongguk’s statement as you look over his shoulder at him.

Before you can even speak, Yoongi barks out a laugh, shaking his head as he returns Seokjin’s card. “Guk, you have no clue.”

If there’s one thing Jeongguk dislikes, it’s feeling as though he’s missing out on something. Back and forth, he looks at both yourself and Yoongi, waiting for an explanation. Yoongi prolongs it, finding sadistic enjoyment in the gradual irritation solidifying on his face, his tongue prodding his inner cheek with a bored expression to match.

“Dude, her daddy’s Axel Choi,” Yoongi snorts, and he laughs loudly when Jeongguk’s whole face drops to the floor, the butterflies in his stomach replaced with an instant sourness, like the bitter burn of alcohol after one too many glasses.

Bewildered, Jeongguk is rendered speechless, and while Yoongi burps laughter and makes a note of the stock now that Seokjin has purchased something, the respective remaining four members of August Blue share cautious glances, apprehensively watching what Jeongguk does or says. Saying Axel Choi feels stupid and minute, but within Jeongguk’s world, it has the same consequence as saying Lord Voldemort in Harry Potter. Whatever attempts Jeongguk has made to forgive or forget what Axel Choi once said to him in that 7-Eleven in Busan is fruitless, the judging and patronising tone clear in his ears, flooding back like a PTSD.

“Wait, what the fuck?”

“Ooh,” you start, lifting up with excitement, “what did he dooo?”, at the same time that Namjoon warningly mutters Jeongguk’s name.

“You look nothing like him,” Jeongguk says dumbly.

“That’s kinda where the step comes in. Stepdad, no blood relation, thank fuck!”

“Come on, Guk, it’s not like she was even there when he shat on all your hopes and dreams,” Yoongi frowns, raising his hand slightly in an effort to diffuse the tension. Purposefully, he ignores the way you look at Yoongi with question, realising instantly that Jeongguk’s behaviour isn’t a matter of personality but instead pride, a desperation to prove himself. “Lay off.”

“He’s family.”

“Is he fuck,” you snort, the sound and language together making Jeongguk even more confused, his head pounding with a mixture of nausea and relief, the upset of his seventeen year old self something he can’t quite shrug off, like the memory of a bad dream. “And, come on. Isn’t that unfair? Put it this way- your dad kills someone, should we go to jail too just because we’re family?” Jeongguk says nothing. “Besides, he’s been married to my Mom for like, six years? And I still don’t like him or get along with him!”

“We just have...bad experiences with him,” Namjoon admits, not forgetting to throw a glare in Jeongguk’s temperamental direction, and he reacts with a jerk, an annoyed scoff leaving his mouth.

Jeongguk crosses his arms. “He told us we’d never succeed. The fucker basically said we didn’t have the talent to be big.”

“And yet, here you are,” you point out thoughtfully, and Jeongguk pauses, acknowledging you fully. “People always succeed when others are negative. I guess we’ll just have to prove him wrong, hm?”

The funny part is that Jeongguk absolutely knows that you are right. In spite of the jarring fact that Axel Choi’s memory is now back in his life with the news of your connections to him, Jeongguk is fully aware of how none of this is your fault. Jeongguk knows better than anybody that baseless judgements were more often unhelpful and toxic than not, and instantly, an apology is brewing in his mouth, words connected by thin strings in his brain, formulating two simple words that feel impossible to mouth. 

Alas, rockstars and their inflated egos; Jeongguk swallows the words back down, battling the urge to say what’s truly on his mind because he’s afraid of what might come out in its place.

So he walks.

Dejected and confused, Jeongguk spares a look at everybody in the room before shaking his head, as if trying to get something out of his head. The worry that slightly pools in your stomach at the sight of it worsens when he storms back down the length of the stacks, closely followed by Hoseok who is a foot away from calling his name. For the rest of the band, it seems, this is instrinctic of Jeongguk, and they quietly but speedily finish up and follow suit. Before he exits, Namjoon smiles over at you, something hidden in the movement that assures you it’s not your fault, even when your agape mouth and stuttering starts suggest you feel otherwise.

Jeongguk makes it out of DBOY before his lungs cave inwards, the hot smell of air pumping into his body as he steps outside to catch his breath. Hoseok’s hand comfortingly presses between his shoulder blades as he finally catches back up with the younger, and Jeongguk refrains from snatching himself away. The demon in his head cackles and the desperate angel pets his hair, tells him that if he pushes more people away, he’ll have nobody. Jeongguk’s not sure if he’s heard that angel speak before.

Hoseok guides Jeongguk back towards the car, silently accepting that Jeongguk didn’t mean it. He never does. He quietly accepts it, patting his leg when Jeongguk sits down once the car is unlocked. Jeongguk doesn’t say a word, not even when the rest of August Blue pile in the car, animatedly talking about the Korean restaurant they’re planning to eat at next. Clockwork routine, they never bring it up afterwards.

The car pulls away and Jeongguk winds the window down with a frown. He’d like a cigarette.

Not that Jeongguk has been counting, but it has been four days since August Blue had visited DBOY. 

Against his tight schedules consisting of long hauls in Adora’s studio, revising songs and making minor changes to each track in preparation for the album release in a few days time, the mere memory of DBOY has been the last thing and least important thing on his mind. In sooth, he doesn’t think about it until he’s alone, vulnerable in his own personal comforts surrounded by white and red. The memory haunts him, keeps him awake for no reason. Jeongguk wishes he could go back, wipe the slate clean, listen to the angel and not be such a prick. He can do this- he does do this.

On the following day, Jeongguk wakes up with a free schedule, waking in bed with the dark grey sheets belted around his lower waist. Casting a glance to his phone that lights up distractedly with notifications, he sees that the time reads eleven am and he yawns. Knowing the rest of the band, they’ve probably scattered already; Hoseok had mentioned something off-handedly last night about spending the day with Roseanne, and Namjoon would most likely be reading alone or exploring with Taehyung, the final man of the hour, Seokjin, sleeping in until it hurts to sleep.

He could do the same, but he doesn’t. Instead, Jeongguk gets himself up and ready, finding his body lead itself back in the direction of DBOY, only realising that he’s come back when he’s outside the front blinking up at the sign.

Somewhere down the street, the sound of screaming reaches his ears- sometimes it’s hard to escape the fans who long for a glimpse at their idols, and to avoid them catching on as to where he’s fled to, Jeongguk hurls himself through the heavy metal door and into the store. It comes as no surprise that it’s empty inside, cool again and this time bursting the lyrics to a Fleetwood Mac record he can’t quite remember the name of but recognises.

The long walk down the length of the aisle is intimidating, daunting as Jeongguk walks and sees nobody behind the desk. Aside from the echoed sound of Fleetwood Mac, the store is virtually silent- admittedly, there is a small group of teenagers at the other end talking quietly, but they are so muted that Jeongguk at first doesn’t realise they are there. Instead he continues forward, slowing significantly when he reaches the desk and finds absolutely nobody in attendance.

For a second, Jeongguk considers leaving. However, the herd of fans he had stalking him outside are no doubt still outside somewhere, and as soon as he considers it, the sound of your voice makes his head snap up attentively. The door that joins the desk space to the back office rattles slowly and then pulls open, and Jeongguk inhales a breath when you step out, as charming as you were five days prior.

Jeongguk is all you see when you pick your chin up, staring at his face closely as he hovers lumpishly, looking out of place. Before he can speak, you regard his appearance, a flattering mixture of tonal blacks; the tight leather jacket covering a black roll neck and tight skinny jeans, even the trademark face-mask that has been pulled below his face, hanging by his neck.

“Oh,” you breathe softly, stunned. “Jeongguk, right?…”

“Hi,” he replies, and you take pleasure in noticing the dulled volume of his voice. “You’re here.”

He considers it a win when you smile. “Well, I do work here.”

“Yeah, I know, I don’t know why I said that,” Jeongguk mutters. “I just...Are you free?”

You make your way towards the desk, gently kicking an empty storage box with your feet. “Sadly, I am always free. You know, considering Yoongi is so popular, this shop is always empty. What’s up with that?” It’s rhetorical, and Jeongguk laughs gently. “What’s up? Left something here? I didn’t think you’d come back...well, after…”

Jeongguk frowns immediately, the unmissable darkened gaze of regret on his face. “That’s actually why I came back. Look.” He sighs, deeply and loudly. “I know it’s not your fault. With Axel.” As he speaks, your gaze is glued on him, your eyes occasionally scanning various parts of his face. “And it’s so fucking unfair for me to hold you against things he said before you even knew him, or whatever, yknow? I guess it just caught me off guard.”

You nod genuinely. “It happens.”

“And, look, I know I don’t even really know you that well, but I can tell you’re just nothing like him,” Jeongguk continues, his temper rising slowly. “You’re kind, and funny, and he’s just an asshole and-” But he stops. And, what? And, he’s still family.

“You’re right,” you agree, laughter spilling from your tongue. “No, he’s the biggest asshole. And his music sucks, let’s be honest.” Jeongguk’s mouth opens, like he wants to speak. “No wonder it took him fourteen years to make a hit…” And he laughs, loudly and in agreement. 

It must be a rarity to see him smile, to hear him laugh; with your heart in the sky, staring at Jeongguk laugh makes you feel warm, your hands quivering with satisfaction at the way his eyes curve into horizontal brackets, like moons, his teeth free with the comfort of knowing he’s safe being happy.

So, explicitly, he doesn’t say sorry like he wanted to. He tries- the words are right there, it would be easy, it is easy. As always, you are understanding, sympathetic to Jeongguk as he struggles to get his words out coherently. You know what he means. You like that he cared enough to try, anyway.

Realistically, he could have left it there, and maintained that stereotypical air of mystery and unavailability he’s used to showing people. On the contrary, Jeongguk finds more reasons to slink back towards DBOY, until he’s entirely familiar with your work schedule, having accidentally turned up when you were at a lecture, and had to suffer the pressing curiosity of your cousin. Yoongi had been so over Jeongguk pretending he was here out of personal pleasure of being surrounded by music that he had eventually just told him your work times, prompting Jeongguk into working harder in the studio to ensure more free time.

Like always, nobody in the band minded. If it meant Jeongguk was investing his spare time in something other than his own loneliness, they were happy to let it be. As for yourself, the reoccuring showing of Jeongguk in DBOY was at first, something you anticipated until the third showing where he had turned up in what you think might be his best look yet. Finally, he wears splashes of colour, his aura breathing with life as he turns up to the store wearing blue denim jeans, with maroon boots and a red beanie over his hair which has been flattened.

Each visit from the man is memorable in its own way, for either parties; you gradually learn that Jeongguk was the lead singer of August Blue, his accent distinctly Australian no thanks to his mother’s dual citizenship that resulted in many family holidays out there, and the year abroad that had chanced him to meet Yoongi. In return, Jeongguk learns that you haven’t even turned twenty yet, your birthday approaching soon, and that your a dilettante, knowing virtually nothing technical about music and instead comfortable in the field of physical art, a first year studying visual art and media.

Jeongguk learns all of this on the third visit. On the fourth, he finds out that you’ve finally listened to his bands music in time for their album release the following day, now in love with the truth of their lyrics, a direct quote from your mouth that Jeongguk remembers perfectly. And on the day of THREE AM’s release, on one of his final days before tour preparations are due to start, Jeongguk finds himself in DBOY with the sound of his own voice on the speakers, and the breathtaking sight of you dancing while stacking the shelves.

It’s a new track, one off the album that dropped this morning. Dancer In The Dark plays all around him, his mind reeling when he reaches you, your back to him and hips twirling as you work. You don’t even need to turn around for Jeongguk to know that you look gorgeous- that’s something that has changed over the past few weeks of Jeongguk returning to DBOY to see you, and annoy Yoongi, respectively. 

Something inside of Jeongguk now craves you, beyond the simple lust he would have imagined. Perhaps it’s the way you didn’t know who he was, treated him like a human being rather than a God; maybe it was the way you’re so ordinary, a taste of normality Jeongguk misses, or the way you’re a relation to someone he’s been working for the past four years to prove wrong. It could well be all three.

The baby blue teddy coat over your body covers your skirt, a display of smooth and tanned legs for him to leer at, your hair once again twirled into loose curls, half up and half down, a signature style like Ariana’s high pony. 

Evidently, you’re unaware of his entry. Yoongi still hasn’t changed the bell above the door and the speakers playing his record are right above your head; this gives Jeongguk the perfect opportunity to quietly approach you from behind, waiting until the chorus fades to an end for him to carefully press his hands into your waist with a soft “boo” pushing between his lips. 

In turn, you jump, his hands momentarily cupping your waist as you move out of his grasp, turning around defensively to see who in the right mind would dare to put a hand on you, only for the guard to be dropped with reassurance once you see Jeongguk behind you, a grin on his face.

“Hi, you,” you say to him, wincing when you realise how loud the music is. “Congrats on the album release!”

Jeongguk laughs boyishly. “Yeah? You like it?”

“Mhm!” you assure, nodding with emphasis. Jeongguk follows the hint of moving away from the loud music as his voice transitions into the opening chords of a David Bowie track. “Do you even have a bad song? Like, the difference between Vibes, Dancer in the Dark and Keep it Up...gorgeous.” He laughs again, feeling over the moon at your authentic excitement. “I really love your voice.”

If humans could melt, Jeongguk would be gloop. “Thanks, Y/N. I mean it, I’m glad you like it.” His brows quirk playfully, “Clearly.” He means your dancing, circular swirls to his voice, and you conceal a smile and look away quickly.

“I recognise Hold Your Breath, too,” you continue, choosing to deliberately ignore his playful comment. One might even assume it to have been flirting. “Isn’t that one of your earlier songs?”

By this point, you’ve hopped over the desk, slid over the wood as Jeongguk watched your coat and skirt hike up with the lift of your leg. “Mmm. I see you’ve done your homework,” he comments.

“I got...curious,” you defend weakly. “I like that song. I’m so glad you decided to do a studio version, it is what she deserved!”

Today might be a new record broken for How Many Times Can Jeon Jeongguk Laugh In Your Company.

“Well, there you have it. You can listen to all of it in HD to make up for me not being here for a while.” Your smile falters and Jeongguk smiles in an attempt to ease your disappointment. “We start our promotions next weekend, actually. Just a couple shows in the States, nothing huge.”

“Oh,” you nod, your voice oddly lost and spacious. “Ugh, I’d love to see you live. I bet it’s gonna sound amazing.”

A breath hitches in Jeongguk’s throat. Come on, idiot, jeers the demon inside of him. The angel slaps him on the back of the head but his words do not cease. You haven’t got all day to do it.

“Then come,” he blurts.

Mirroring him, your mouth falls round, open. “...O-M-G, I’d love to...but I’m like...broke,” you tell him, jokingly but around the truth you both know is there.

“Y/N, you can come for free, I’m inviting you,” Jeongguk explains slowly, the grin widening on his face. Awestruck, you’re lost in the beauty of it. “I want you to come. See us play, see me. You won’t have to pay for a single thing- everything’s on me.” He breathes, “Please,” added as an afterthought.

Admittedly, he hadn’t anticipated the following silence. “When?” you ask, breathily.

“Next Saturday,” Jeongguk offers, having thought about it since before the album came out. “At the Hollywood Palladium. It’s our opening show, and I’d just really, really like for you to be there.” You think about the date for a moment, smiling when you realise what day the date falls on.

“Hollywood? That’s...amazing, Jeongguk, really,” you tell him, your voice quiet still. “...Can I bring a friend? When I listened to August Blue, they were there and we both got really invested.”

A weight is lifted off Jeongguk’s shoulders knowing that his offer has been considered. He smiles brightly, the moons back out. “Depends. Is your friend male?”

Now it is your turn to grin, your weight held up by your elbows as you lean on top of the desk towards him, slotted between his hands. His familiar hazelnut scent is strong here. “Yes. He’s male, gay, and incredibly in love with my cousin.”

What Jeongguk feels is not relief, or irritation; an elevated feeling of happiness stirs in his chest. You are so unlike anybody he’s met, from the way you see the humour in everything he says, not taking him seriously enough to treat him like he’s better than everything else, and the way you make him feel like there’s something about him worth liking; to the way you’re probably the only person he’s ever met who genuinely likes the Sharknado franchise. It without a doubt goes without saying that good things pop up where you least expect them to, in people you didn’t anticipate meeting. Feeling like his head is in the clouds, Jeongguk’s lips press together into a smile, bashful in appearance and nods, satisfied.

“Okay then,” he nods, taking a second to grasp the situation before he laughs to himself, scratching his ear absentmindedly. “Here’s my number for then, then. You can call me when you arrive, and then I’ll come out and get you, or I’ll have our manager sort some things out, so you can skip the lines and get in before everyone else.”

“Alright,” you agree softly. “Thank you, Jeongguk.”

Although he shakes his head nonchalantly, feigning only a moderate amount of happiness, on the inside, Jeongguk’s body is screaming, his heart vibrating rapidly in his chest. On the other side, even when he bounces into a following conversation about your hair and the new book placed on the desk that you’ll probably read when you’re bored later today, you feel like you can’t breathe, can’t quite comprehend the fact Jeongguk is standing before you, his number in your phone, the sun unmatching his smile.

Some things don’t feel right, but being with Jeongguk isn’t one of them. Maybe luck is on your side for once.

(LOS ANGELES)

“So. You’ve decided to be late.”

Adjacent to where you’re standing, Park Jimin lies like a starfish on your bedsheets, his chin tilted up to the ceiling in agonising boredom as you fuss over your hair for the literal fifth time in the last four minutes.

Meeting Jimin was both the joy and the bane of your life, the boy being an unstable balance of chaotic and neutral, his sole purpose in life being to annoy the shit out of you. It had been a lovely sunny morning the day you first met him- only it had begun to thunderstorm the second he entered the arts classroom, pathetic fallacy. Being the quiet black sheep clearly did not always work in your favour considering the only spare seat left was the one next to you, meaning fate had decided to bring you both together to sketch still-life pears and grapes. Either that or a case of big, bad luck- the opinion differed depending on who you asked.

Regardless, here you both are; by cordial invite from Jeon Jeongguk himself, you have around twenty minutes to get to a venue that is thirty five away, and Jimin huffs for the fifth consecutive time, pointedly glancing over as you finish applying a generous amount of lipstick that no doubt will fade during the show. Your face is an art-piece, your body modestly covered in a silk buttoned shirt patterned with red flowers, tucked into some comfortable black jeans that Jimin turns his nose up at.

“They’re comfortable,” you argue weakly, finally following him to the car and deciding to do your shoes in the backseat. As half promised over text, Jeongguk sent a vehicle, the driver impatient and displeased by your tardiness but he says nothing, because it’s his job to drive, not to speak.

“Skinny jeans are the most impractical outfit for getting dicked down,” Jimin says with a clipped tone. “And isn’t it obvious that Jeongguk wants to do that?”

You shrug, biting the inside of your cheek. “It might not be like that.”

Jimin genuinely laughs. “Oh, come on- it totally is. Why else would he invite you backstage, send a car, and stop by at your work almost daily?”

“Maybe he wants to be friends?” you suggest, but both you and Jimin know that’s so far from the truth that you can’t even see it- you just don’t want to admit it just yet. When Jimin’s tongue darts out of his mouth with a smirk, you roll your eyes and lean down to your feet as the driver cruises down the street on the clock.

[17:39PM] Jeongguk 🎼: hey are you on your way?? [17:39PM] Jeongguk 🎼: havent heard from u [17:40PM] Jeongguk 🎼: u ok?

About ten minutes into the drive, almost peaceful save Jimin’s random questions about Jeongguk, or the venue, neither particularly answerable at this stage, a series of notifications flood your phone. Taking the chance to answer while Jimin finds time to bully the driver into talking to him to cure his driving boredom, you glance down at the messages, your body reacting with a flush when you see Jeongguk’s name light up in bold.

[17:41PM] You: yes !!!! in the car rn

His reply is instantaneous.

[17:41PM] Jeongguk 🎼: ok cool 😋 as long as ur safe [17:42PM] Jeongguk 🎼: got worried lol

“Five minutes,” the driver calls, to nobody in particular as he pulls up to a set of traffic lights. Oblivious to speed limits, he seems to have got you there in the designated twenty, before the gates opened for the crowds outside.

[17:44PM] You: we will be there in five minutes ☺️ [17:44PM] You: : i’ll text you when we’re here [17:45PM] Jeongguk 🎼: ok cutie, see you then 😛

You are grown, and too old to be crushing over a boy like you’re in high school, but the way Jeongguk interacts makes your toes curl with a whole new alien type of fondness, the need to giggle paramount. You refrain from doing so, because if Jimin hears he will never let you live it down. In an effort to ignore the excitement and nervousness coursing through your veins, your leg bounces erratically as the driver, who is apparently named Joe after the chauffeur bodyguard in The Princess Diaries (no thanks to Jimin and his “boredom” which borders insensitivity), pulls up in the barricaded staff car park. The fans outside have no idea: they just see a car and start screaming, their cheers making goosebumps ripple up your arms like romantic kisses.

“That makes me feel really important,” Jimin mutters, perhaps glum about the fact that he hasn’t had this much attention since he was chubby and innocent in third grade. “Ready to go?”

“Yep,” you breathe, unsure as to whether or not you mean it. Nevertheless, Jimin opens the car door and steps out, instantly making a crowd gathered by the barricade scream. They scream for anything, just wanting to be heard, but being Jimin, he soaks it up as you clamber out on the other side.

Jeongguk seems particularly popular, and it probably wouldn’t look good if fans saw an unknown girl get out the car to go backstage. You know how fans are, how it’s easy to jump to conclusions without the facts. While Jimin raises his hand to teasingly wave at the girls who scream in response, you follow Bodyguard Joe to the backstage door guarded by two oversized muscular men, bowing your head as you enter and feel the heat of the backstage rooms hit you in the face.

At some point, Jimin joins you inside, shuffling around your body when he spots Yoongi appear at the end of the opening corridor. Yoongi is always invited to August Blue shows, by personal invitation of the band-members who are mostly Namjoon. Remembering that Jeongguk technically has no idea you’re here, you quickly shoot him a text message before a female staff member touches your shoulder gently, offering a lanyard with VVIP written in black ink, likely a band members handwriting. She smiles, quickly running over the safety regulations because, give her a break, it’s her damn job. You’re nodding, acknowledging her words blindly until she’s done, sending you on your way towards Taehyung who pops his head around the corner and smiles brightly when he sees you.

“Hey, you!”

Quite honestly, you don’t think you’ve ever said a word to Taehyung before. He doesn’t seem particularly awkward to speak to you despite this fact, and beckons you closer with a wave of his hand. As you draw nearer, you smell the faint aroma of vodka crossed with raspberry, clinging to his clothes and mouth as he comes close to speak so you can hear him over the heavy bass filling the speakers.

“What?” you ask him loudly, seeing his mouth move with nothing coming out. All you can hear is the recording of Obsessive on the speakers, pounding, reverberating the floor beneath your Dr Martens.

“I said,” Taehyung shouts, his lips on your ear, “Jeongguk’s waiting for you. I need a wee really badly, but he’s in the artists lounge, that way.” He points vaguely in a direction, but the sight of Jimin stepping in and out of a room indicates the general direction regardless. “Enjoy the show, yeah?”

“Course!” you nod to him, and he wastes zero seconds staring at you and legs it in the opposite direction, towards where you assume the toilets are. Your eyes follow him as he leaves in endearment; he’s cute, constantly looking bewildered and confused. It’s his almond eyes, like puppy dogs’.

But the thought of seeing Jeongguk outweighs watching Taehyung leave; you hurry down the corridor and enter the room you expect to be the artists lounge, and your breath is taken away immediately when Jeongguk is the first thing you see.

As if anticipating your entry, he stands the second you enter, and while he moves, you freeze. Jeongguk looks absolutely breathtaking: his hair is curly, falling over his face with a slight parting not directly centered, hooped earrings hanging from his earlobes, adding a sparkle secondary to the way his eyes are shining in the backstage lights. His skin is gorgeously tanned, shaded and accentuated by the slipping material of his shirt that reveals the expanse of his collarbones, the black complementing the tightness of his jeans. You don’t get to look at his shoes- he stops at your toes and you peer back up at his face, rendered speechless by the smile on his face.

“Hi,” Jeongguk says, laughing as if it’s so crazy that you’re here, actually here. Before you can even think of speaking, Jeongguk inhales a breath and brings it back in with one movement; he reaches for you, encircling his arms around you for a quick hug that you’re not going to let go to waste. As soon as he feels your hands on his back, he pulls you closer, tighter almost, one hand on your lower spine and the other on the back of your head.

The hug is genuinely short, but it feels eternal.

“You made it,” he comments, his voice so bewildered that for a moment, you’re actually confused. Jeongguk speaks insecurely and it makes your heart wrench- you wonder who hurt him before, what made him think that he wasn’t deserving of things as simple as somebody coming to a show when he asked them to.

“Of course. I wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” you tell him truthfully, your arms slipping to his forearms. “I’m excited!”

Jeongguk grins happily. “Me too! Ah, I’m happy you’re here. You look gorgeous.” And without shame, he drags his gaze up and down your body.

“That’s good, then,” comes Jimin’s thrown in comment from across the room, where he occupies one of the leather seats next to Yoongi and across from Hoseok, who fidgets skittishly and fiddles his fingers at a Rubix cube. “Do you know how close we were to being late because she was busy deciding a lip colour? Jimin should I go red or nude? Jimin does this shirt go with my shoes? Jimin should I paint my nails red or black to match?”

A laugh ripples out of Jeongguk’s chest and he looks back at you adoringly.

“That’s not how it happened,” you protest weakly, pouting when Jimin cackles and smirks. “And we made it didn’t we? Shut up before I revoke the plus one card.”

“I’m already here, though,” Jimin reasons.

“I’ll force you outside,” you reply.

Yoongi pulls a face, then, finally joining the conversation. “Y/N, you can’t even open the front door to the shop when you enter, let alone drag Jimin outside. Nice try, though.”

An offended gasp leaves your mouth and Jeongguk turns around, petting the top of your head. “It’s okay. Sometimes, even I can’t open it. Anyway- drink?”

You decline this offer, not really wanting to drink anything heavy in fear of vomiting it up when the show starts. Based on your history, throwing up when you’re overly excited seems to be a dirty habit, something Jimin is very happy sharing when you opt for a glass of water while Jeongguk carefully pours himself a glass of whiskey. He doesn’t tease or poke fun. Jeongguk simply smiles, like the story is a memory he’s fond of remembering, and nods you in the direction of the couch where he wants you to sit. It stays this way right up until the show starts, and then the chaos begins and the nerves settle.

Now, you’ve never been backstage before, never seen how crazy it gets as the show’s about to start. While the rest of the band hurry around collecting outfit pieces, taking a drink or tuning their instruments to perfection, Jeongguk quietly tugs at your arm and brings you to the side, a gentle and reassuring smile on his face, a frequently used expression when it concerns yourself.

“Rachel is our main backstage manager and she’s gonna take you and Jimin down to where I’ve put you for the show, yeah?” he explains, his gaze intent. Rachel is the woman from earlier, smiling patiently near the door. You spare her a glance and then look back at Jeongguk. “I’ve put you down by the stage so I can see you, okay?”

You nod. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s okay.”

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re not in the crowd, you’re right by the stage in front of the barricade with the staff,” Jeongguk says. “Safe and sound, comfy and cosy. Can you come back after the show? There’s a party. I’ll- I’ll take you?” His tone is expectant, hopeful, and you’d be absolutely insane to let him down.

“I’ll come,” you promise. “Good luck!”

Again with the boyish charms; Jeongguk’s following smile is relaxed and lopsided, his head similarly quirked.

“Thanks, baby,” he calls, his smile widening when he notices the surprise flood your cheeks. “Cheer loud for me?”

“Always,” you tell him, gauging the scrunch of his eyes before Rachel directs both Jimin and yourself out of the backstage vicinity and towards the VVIP standing just next to the barrier. Whether or not Jimin overheard the entire ordeal is unclear; he doesn’t comment even if he did happen to overhear, remaining uncharacteristically silent until you reach your spot and he loosens up, gazing up at the stage in wonder.

When the venue feels packed to the brim and the reverberating bass of guitars literally vibrates the room, Jimin screams something about his excitement over the noise, catching your widened smile in his direction and laughing, throwing his arms around you.

Hollywood Palladium is genuinely packed to the brim, the fans by the barricade stamping excitedly as the VCR rolls to an end, the lights fade to a crimson red and silhouettes of August Blue appear on the stage. They are sensational, eliciting a chorus from the crowd that is deafening. Jimin laughs again, looking back and forth at the crowd and back at the stage, two girls from the barricade recognising him as the guy from outside and taking a photo, likely anticipating that he is of importance.

Like all concerts, the first five minutes are mind-blowing, epic and fantastical and slightly nerve-racking for all parties. At the sound of the opening chords of Meddle About, another wave of screams pierce the crowd and you wince, not expecting it but a smile still wide on your face. The cymbals crash and the lights flash brightly, revealing Jeongguk on the stage at the front, both his hands on the microphone as he speaks the first words of the night, lyrics dripped in smooth vocals that make your body swirl like on drugs. It’s mesmerising, sexy and sounding perfectly like the studio recording.

Hearing them live is a whole different experience- the way that August Blue perform is otherworldly, feeling like you’re in a subspace of slow-motion, every movement on stage emphasised. Not wanting to waste all of the show gawking at the lead vocalist, you glance at all of the other members, in awe of their talents and presence on the stage, even spotting the golden gleam of a saxophone in your peripheral vision. It is only then that you register the fact that Taehyung plays the saxophone live, and excitement and anticipation replaces birthed nerves from the opening song.

When Meddle About fades to a finale, Jeongguk smiles to himself widely as the melody to Obsessive plays almost immediately after, Namjoon’s riff introducing Jeongguk’s welcoming, “Hollywood Palladium, are you ready?” before he dives into the song. Here, Taehyung fiddles for his sax and beams down at both you and Jimin, returning to his spot to play as the song continues.

Like all songs from August Blue, you wish it would never end, your heels grinding the floor as you bop in Jimin’s arms, his chin buried in your neck as he rocks you from side to side affectionately. For the entirety of the song, and even after then, you refuse to take your eyes off Jeongguk; he moves with calculation and care, the world his bitch beneath his feet as he smirks, fucking the crowd, swirling in figure eight motions as he sings. Jeongguk is the eighth wonder of the world.

Obsessive ends, your torso rising and falling after their performance. It was a show of elan, your body buzzing with small vibrations like a bumblebee; Jeongguk’s hair is disheveled, and he exchanges caring looks with the other members, giving them the opportunity to catch their breath as he once again addresses the crowd.

“Hollywood…” he starts, smiling wolfishly when the crowd erupts into piercing screams, the fans at the barrier pounding against the metal bars impatiently and Jimin eyes them cautiously, wrapping his arms tighter around you and considerately shuffling further away. Jeongguk glances down, then, making sure everything is okay, and his eyes fall on you. The first thing he sees is your smile, enamoured and bright and wide, like golden light at the end of a dark tunnel he can’t get out of. You notice now that he speaks how strong the accent is, months and years of Australian visits clearly paying off. It’s nice, new and different, completely unlike how he speaks in Korean. “We feelin’ good tonight?”

The crowd respond gleefully, and Jeongguk chuckles into the microphone.

“Thank you all for coming out here tonight,” Jeongguk begins, swaying slightly on his feet. The movement is endearing. “Being here, on this stage, is something we have dreamed about, and now that we’re here...Wow. We couldn’t be here without you guys. Everyone who’s here- friends, family, lovers-” the crowd scream because they’re used to being mentioned this way, but when Jeongguk’s gaze briefly flickers down to you, you immediately burn up, curling into Jimin as your best friend laughs knowingly, squeezing you tighter when Jeongguk finishes his speech to the crowd, “-you guys are fucking awesome. You like the album?”

Of course, Jeongguk is not alone on the stage. Reminded of this fact, you pay attention to each members introduction, occasionally finding your eyes wandering back to the lead vocalist who seems to always be staring back. In a sea of screaming fans and waving banners, Jeongguk’s eyes land on you each time, as if reminding himself that you are here, you are here for him.

When the band finish their introductions and Jeongguk says his piece, and the opening hum from the guitars around him announce Dancer in the Dark, Jeongguk glances at you one final time and sees the way your body reacts to the song familiar to your ears, a curve extending the corner of his mouth. Jeongguk brings his attention back to the crowd where it will stay for the rest of the concert, his mind wandering between each lyric and break. Maybe- just maybe, things would work out for him in the end.

DEVIL IN THE DARK. (HOLLYWOOD)

There is a constant hum in your ears, your fingertips vibrating as you force yourself out of the car.

Judging by the sky draped in an ebony black, it’s either extremely late or extremely early, the loud music from the large estate already audible and you haven’t even entered the party yet. Even though Jeongguk had expected to take you in his personal vehicle to the party that would celebrate their first American show of the year, things hadn’t exactly gone to plan; his eyes met yours as soon as you hurried backstage to find him, pleading and frantic and your name on the tip of his tongue, unspoken when Rachel ushers the band out of the venue after an already overstayed welcome. Still, the frequent vibration of your phone under your thigh when you settled travelling with Yoongi and Jimin instead kept your thoughts preoccupied, Jeongguk’s contact practically permanent on your lock screen.

[23:40PM] Jeongguk 🎼: shit !!!!! [23:40PM] Jeongguk 🎼: i wanted to wait but they kept pushing me outside [23:41PM] Jeongguk 🎼: did u get out safe? [23:43PM] You: yep don’t worry !!! [23:43PM] You: we’ll be on our way soon [23:44PM] You: im hungry so we’re getting food first oops [23:45PM] Jeongguk 🎼: ok baby see u soon [23:45PM] Jeongguk 🎼 is typing…

The triple dots are constant.

Bodyguard Joe is the driver who drops you off, muttering under his breath when all three of you pile out the back and he’s free to leave. Before Yoongi can even shut the door properly he is speeding away, desperate to get out of there. Yoongi can’t say he blames him- he’s only staying for a little bit, at least until Jeongguk starts being Jeongguk. He deliberately doesn’t mention it to you. He wants you to see it for yourself.

Inside, it’s hard to see through the smoke. There had only been about fourty minutes difference between Jeongguk arriving there and the three of you, and evidently, they waste no time bringing the party into motion. Already, guests either by invite or chance are drunk, intoxicated with dark beer bottles and shot glasses, a wreckage of splintery glass by the door surrounded by a pair of shoes, like a warning. The lights are dimmed, each room dark save a lamp with a dying bulb or LED lights, flashing rainbow colours to the beats of songs, the smell of alcohol and weed lifting in the air. It’s rancid, strong and pungent but typical of parties you’d expect celebrities within the realm of Jeongguk to do, people who held the world at arms length.

Along the wall, the coat pegs are covered in a bundle of mismatched coats and jackets, a single Converse hanging by its laces as some sort of practical joke. In light of this, you decide to just keep your coat thrown over your shoulders, the black suede comfortable and moreover protective as faces you’ve never even seen before regard you with high interest as you pass. Jimin scowls and drags you closer to him, Yoongi leading the way with a gaze that could kill, parting the sea of dancers like Moses. The vibe, however, remains undisturbed, the bodies continuing to dance and drink as they were before Min Yoongi stepped through the mix, with two virtual nobodies behind him. He knows where he’s going- he’s done this before.

This mansion is a maze, with corridors leading everywhere, filled with bodies you didn’t know. You deduce that the main parlour where you’re headed to is the hub of the party, judging by the way the small groups of people outside become multiplied, the sound of laughter and music louder when you enter through a doorway. The room is soaked in an indigo neon light, the long haul of strip lights attached to the moulding by the ceiling by silver pins; almost all of August Blue accommodate one of the recliner sofas, one particular male suspiciously absent.

“Yoongi!” Faintly over the sound of the music, Namjoon’s voice carries its way to your trio, Yoongi’s attention moving to the band and he moves in that direction, with both Jimin and yourself close on his heels. Namjoon already looks affected by the alcohol stirring in a whiskey glass, the colour clear and making no difference when it sloshes over the side onto the bare skin of his forearms. Exchanging a tight lipped smile with Hoseok, who seats a beautiful girl on his lap who sips her drink quietly, you glance around the room for Jeongguk, your heart sinking when you don’t spot him anywhere.

“Great show,” Yoongi says, now that the music has been turned down somewhat, no thanks to Taehyung who has just stepped out of the bathroom and winced at the volume, now sitting back in his original spot beside Seokjin and his widened legs. As an afterthought, he adds, “as always. This is Jimin, by the way- and you know Y/N.”

Seokjin looks up from his glass: “Hi honey. Good night?”

“Yes, it was amazing,” you reply, your eyes wandering again. A few strangers are seated on the couch alongside the members, including three girls you aren’t familiar with. Two look out of this world, mentally vacant and the third watches you carefully, her lips pouted sourly. “Hello,” you call to her, uncomfortable.

“This is one of Rosanne’s friends, Cassandra,” Seokjin introduces, although he doesn’t sound particularly enthusiastic.

“Cassie,” she throws in.

“Oh, like the song,” you judge, looking back at Seokjin and catching the roll of his eyes before he can hide it away. Concealing a smile you look back at Cassandra.

“Yeah. Isn’t that funny?” she asks, giggling sweetly. “I like to tease Guk about it. It gets him shy. Did you see him on the way in, by the way? I’ve been looking for him.”

Oh. So she’s one of them- it’s evident in the way August Blue glance over at her with annoyance, glancing back at you with a blank stare. You know better. “No, actually. I just got here.”

“Well,” Cassandra-Cassie continues, smiling tightly, the look so ingenuine that it looks as though it hurts her to fake politeness, “if you see him, let him know that I’m looking for him.”

“Does he even know who you are?” Jimin asks before he can stop himself. Cassandra narrows her eyes.

“We met in passing.”

A snort exits Jimin’s nose. “If he remembers you, I’ll genuinely be surprised.”

Whatever is or isn’t said by the rest of the couch is unheard by you; once Jimin has finished his slander of Cassandra-Cassie whilst perched on Yoongi’s knees, you decide you’ve heard enough and pick yourself back up off the couch despite having only just sat down.

Whoever remains at the couch pays you no mind, aside from Yoongi who nods gently as you gesture to the connecting hallway, an arch in the cream smooth wall that no doubt leads to either the outside, the kitchen or a bathroom, perhaps all three at once. His eyes do not leave you until you’ve wormed your way out of the room, quietly and meekly weaving through bodies on the walls and declining at least three drinks offered in your direction. After peering into several rooms, including the kitchen that was far too crowded and scorching to even enter, and glanced out through the french doors to the scattered party outside, looking on the patio glowing in blues and pinks, the pool splashing with laughter.

Even the end bathroom that is larger than the kitchen is practically empty save the guy passed out in the bathtub with a glass of sparkling champagne in a slender glass on the sink, and you suddenly feel very dejected, closing the door behind you as you exit back to the long hallway. Maybe everything was too good to be true- maybe girls like Cassandra were girls Jeongguk had invited, like he had you, suddenly ghosting when they all appeared in the same room. It feels rude to assume that, but with no text messages or indication as to where he might be and with whom, disappointment begins to simmer in your stomach.

It nearly settles, confusing dejection with nausea and the thought of Jeongguk having played you is a thought you ruminate, until you’re halfway down the hall and a door to a connecting room that has now opened welcomes a body cloaked in the bedroom darkness, an arm leaning out to grasp your sleeve and pull you inside.

A strange sense of deja-vu hangs over this situation, familiarity striking with the hand that unwraps from around your arm and meets the second around your waist. Before you have even finished twirling to face the body in ownership of said arms, the sound of quiet chuckling makes you relax instantly, a smile growing when you fall with a soft thud against the torso of Jeongguk, his mouth in level with your eyes.

“Hi, stranger,” you laugh softly, looking up at him with wide eyes. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Jeongguk hums, and you catch a whiff of alcohol practically pouring off him. “Been hidin’. You found me, you win.” Jeongguk does a poor job of attempting to be sober, his speech slurred and his smile cheesy and smirkish. “I was tryna ride with you, but Joon shut the car door and we just drove off, you know?” You honestly don’t, but you nod anyway. “Tried to call you but dunno where my phone’s gone. Think Joon’s got it.”

“That explains why you weren’t replying,” you say, mostly to yourself. Jeongguk inhales the air through his nose quickly, one sniff, and relaxes his arms around your middle; his forearms are resting on your hip bones with his fingers gently stroking and drumming against your lower back, and it is here, with him so close, that you notice the glow of sweat on his hairline, the fringes slightly matted down and smudged black under his eye, glitter shines of his eyebrow piercing. “Got worried about you.”

“You were worried about me?” he repeats, that same smile on his face. Jeongguk sounds so amazed by this fact, so bewildered that you’d care.

Anticipation whirls in the pit of your stomach as his voice drops in volume and hardness, and the school-girl crush swims back to bite when Jeongguk’s forehead bends to press against your own, the taste of alcohol on your tongue before he’s even leaning in to kiss you. Jeongguk’s hands immediately fly to cradle your face, accidentally bringing a fistful of hair to your cheek as he holds you, practically picking your face up to warm to his mouth. It is just one kiss, long and deep and soft, leaving behind the taste of a bitter liquor.

Jeongguk’s eyes open through slits when he pulls away, analysing how you still haven’t come back to reality from it, and so he moves in again, in a body roll motion stealing a second kiss, his lips pressed up against you in full. He doesn’t know if it’s the booze in his veins or the electrifying feeling of your hands over him that has him buzzing all over- it could be both, for all he knew.

Beginning to doubt his own self control when you mumble and sigh into his mouth, Jeongguk gently brings himself away, out of the kiss and sending your eyes open in a daze. Cracking his own eyes open, Jeongguk restrains himself from going right back in- the orange glow from the outdoor lights shine on the left side of your face and his heart leaps, drumming in his ears. He frowns loudly, feeling your thumbs rub against his wrists. “Sorry.”

You pause, “Why?”

“For making you worry,” Jeongguk explains, his voice murmured through pouted lips. “I made the baby worry.”

“The baby?” you repeat, chuckling. He grins. “We’re almost the same age, y’know.”

“The baby,” Jeongguk coos, his giggles indicative of his level of soberness, which seems to be unlikely. “Little nineteen year old baby-”

“Twenty,” you add, and Jeongguk stops with a quiet “huh” that sounds like a baby, ironic. Jeongguk remembers you telling him your age, and that you’d be twenty soon. Had he missed your birthday? As if hearing his internal struggle, you smile softly: “Today is my birthday, actually.”

Truly, Jeongguk doesn’t know what to say. His mouth hangs agape, like the information was sacred. “What…? You didn’t say anything- I could have got you something, done something-”

“This whole day has been a gift,” you stress, cutting him short and calming him down. “Truly. My Mom and Asshole are in the Maldives because that’s more important than me, and so I went out for breakfast with Jimin, skipped my yoga session because treat-yourself-vibes only on my birthday, and then I had the best time at your show and now we’re here. So, honestly-” as you talk, you finger his shirt, wrapping the material around your nail, “-everything has been amazing. This is my gift- you are my gift.”

Jeongguk pouts. “You’re way more important than the Maldives...you wanna go to the Maldives? Shall we go?” Based off the state of things, Jeongguk is a playful, chatty and overall excited drunk, his eyes blown wide with what you hope it just alcohol buzz. “I’ll take you.”

You laugh, gently stroking his jaw and very briefly, before he can get too addicted, kiss him. Before Jeongguk can pucker his lips back for you, you’re back on the ground with your feet flat, shyly smiling at the way he still tries anyway- because you can’t blame a man for trying.

“You like the party?” Jeongguk asks, unconcerned. His hands are back on your back, now, his arms wrapped around you tightly.

“Mm, it’s fun,” you agree. “Will you come out and join all of us? We’re all in the lounge-” you smirk up at him and he raises his brows, “Cassandra is there.”

“Who the fuck’s Cassandra?” questions his voice, and you laugh loudly, surprisingly gleeful.

“Someone else who was looking for you like me,” you tell him, frowning. He hums, interested in this fact and your expression. “Think she likes you.”

Outside the door, someone rattles at the handle, the noise falling short as though they’ve been stopped from entering. Jeongguk seizes the last word with a triumphant smile.

“Don’t worry,” he assures, and your gaze drops to his lips as his teeth drag on the bottom, pulling teasingly. “I’ve got my eye on someone special.”

There had been reasoning behind Yoongi’s decision to not mention Jeongguk’s habits.

For one, it’s none of his business to talk about what Jeongguk does and doesn’t do when under the influence. Secondly, he feels as though he’s not supposed to say, like it’s a secret he’s sworn to keep. Truthfully, Yoongi doesn’t want to give the wrong idea- he doesn’t want the truth to be misunderstood or misinterpreted, and so he stays quiet. Like all other members of August Blue when Jeongguk touches alcohol, he’s quiet. At this stage, there’s nothing he can do but wait for Jeongguk to stop, patient and helpful.

It has to be early hours, now, and if Yoongi’s phone wasn’t dead, he’d check. By this point, the party is on its last legs, the volume of people decreasing dramatically as songs become more slow and sultry, all the lights blood red. It’s about time he and Jimin leave, actually; like always, Seokjin and Taehyung have disappeared into one of their bedrooms on the second floor, and Namjoon is asleep on the couch with his mouth ajar, Hoseok and Roseanne planning to remain present in the hub until the party goes to sleep, because someone needs to clean up, and it sure as hell won’t be anybody else.

Yoongi bids his farewells individually, with Jimin needily clinging to the sleeve of his shirt with the vodka oozing out of his body, his head on a whole other planet. By the time Yoongi makes it to the other side of the room where you are with Jeongguk, he’s worried Jimin might actually fall asleep before they get to the car.

Something interesting has happened. Yoongi slowly moves towards the leftover crowd around Jeongguk and sees your face immediately, worry crossed with affection etched into the look on your face as Jeongguk tightly holds you on his lap, his legs twitching and smile on display. It’s around about this time Yoongi begins to overthink it, letting his gaze drop to your hands holding one of his while his other reaches out to the coffee table, littered with bottles and shot glasses, and most importantly, the puddles of white. He gulps, looking back at you. Surprisingly, you don’t look put off, or disgusted- more so you look sad, as if filled with intense guilt as Jeongguk hugs you, his heart in one place and head in another.

When one of the girls next to Jeongguk pats his arm and Jeongguk looks over, you spare the chance to look back in the direction of Jimin, overwhelmed with relief when you see him losing balance over the shoulder of your cousin. Jeongguk struggles for a second to let you free but he does, and you move towards Yoongi, already expecting his departure.

“You should leave too,” Yoongi says seriously. “Before he gets worse.”

He- you look over your shoulder at Jeongguk. Now, he’s on his knees, his chin on the coffee table as he inches towards a fresh line on the surface. Someone’s credit card sits decorated in the powder and Jeongguk, whilst pressing his finger to one nose, snorts the line without question and with a smile. You look away, facing Yoongi with a dark expression.

“You knew?”

“We all knew,” Yoongi sighs. “This...is moderate.”

Processing what he’s saying, you shake your head stubbornly. “If I leave, then it will get worse. I don’t want to leave him on his own. I wanna be here for him, before it gets worse than what it already is.”

“It will get worse, always does.”

“I don’t care, I’m not leaving him here,” you reason. “Before you tell me I’m not special and I can’t change him, I’m not here to change him. I’m here to support him. I’m gonna stay, make sure he’s okay.”

Yoongi really wants to intervene, warn you against it. People before you have tried, he wants to say. But he doesn’t; he smiles weakly, thinking about how you’re too good for the world and people around you and he brings you in for a hug, kissing the crown of your head.

“Alright. Happy birthday, by the way. Twenty...Hag,” Yoongi mutters before he pulls away. Jimin mirrors the movement, drunkenly giggling in your ear as he pulls away and thuds against Yoongi’s side. Yoongi doesn’t even flinch, doesn’t complain; secretly he likes the clinginess.

“Thanks, Yoongs,” you laugh, standing still until he steers himself and Jimin away from the scene and you’re left with no other option but to retreat back towards Jeongguk, who must be on his third line. The distinct and slightly jarring sound of snorting makes you hurry quicker towards him, until you can reach out and pet his hair, making him look up before he’s even finished the line.

The boyish grin that Jeongguk gives you when he looks up and sees your face is beyond beautiful, and he’s so distracted from the lines that he doesn’t notice or care when the girl next to him, displeased with his lack of attention, finishes it off for him. Doing everything in your power to not cry about how Jeongguk looks, fucked and wrecked with white powder under his nose, you shoot him a smile and smooth your hands down the side of his face.

“‘m pretty,” he mutters. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty.”

Laughter tugs at your throat, little puffs of air through your nose as you bend your head to meet his wandering gaze, wiping the powder from his nose before it kills you to keep looking at it. He sniffs, finding that it tickles, and plops his chin in your lap, hands on your thighs.

“Sleepy?” you ask, petting his curly hair.

“Mm.”

“Mm yes, or…?”

“Mm...comfy,” mutters Jeongguk. Through his hair, he looks up at you. “Can we make-out?”

You snort out a laugh, massaging his scalp. “Oh my God, you are so drunk. Come on, big guy.”

“Wanna stay with you,” Jeongguk says. “Don’t leave.”

“I’m not gonna leave you,” you tell him. “I promise. Look, everyone’s getting ready to leave now, too, I think the party’s pretty much over.”

Jeongguk eyes the room with a half-lidded gaze, furrowing his brows like he doesn’t quite know where he is. “Huh. Everyone left.”

“Mhm.” He starts to reach for the cocaine on the table again and your heart beats with panic. “Hey, I think that’s enough now.”

“Lemme finish,” Jeongguk requests.

“You’ve had enough,” you stress, taking hold of his hand. “Let’s leave it there for tonight, okay, baby?”

Jeongguk’s head snaps towards you. “Baby?”

You nod, affirming. “Yes. Look, oh, I’m so tired-” you pretend to yawn, keeping one eye open to observe his expressions as he smiles childishly.

“You’re faking,” he accuses.

“Nope. I’m so tired, let’s go sleep,” you continue.

Jeongguk continues to smile, occasionally laughing when the sound can get out of his throat. You’re half expecting it to be a waste of time, for him to insist on taking more lines and drinking more booze, but he does neither of these things. Jeongguk nods once and runs his hands across your thighs, taking them in his palms and roughly squeezing, getting to his feet when you tug him up.

Across the box shaped recliner pattern, Cassandra-fucking-Cassie glares up from her seat, alongside several others who stare at you as if you’ve grown another head. Truth be told, and unbeknownst to yourself, Jeongguk has never listened to anybody like he does for you. You have no idea how insane it is to see Jeon Jeongguk following the orders of a girl nobody knows, and honestly, you don’t care. Feeling Jeongguk’s hand slide into yours and the other occasionally reaching to fondle the back of your leg as he searches for you in dark is enough, it’s the only thing you care about.

You don’t really know where you’re going; behind you, Jeongguk is mumbling the way to his bedroom, which appears to be up the grand staircase and on the top floor, where he can pretend he’s above the world. Even with his directions, the path seems unpredictable, his torso occasionally bumping into you when you pause at corners. Eventually, Jeongguk notices where he is and conceals a yawn, his face contorted into sleepiness as he gently pulls you in the direction of his room, unsurprisingly at the end of the corridor, a master. Before he can open the door, Jeongguk yawns loudly, slumping against the doorframe and laughing slowly when you curve around him, reaching for the handle and forcing your way into the room.

Inside, it’s cold, the window propped open and a midnight colour hanging on the walls, silence. Jeongguk doesn’t turn on a light, and he doesn’t want you to either. He still holds onto your hand, or rather your fingers, and leads the way inside. His bedroom is like a hotel suite, a small lobby area of sorts when you walk in with three doors North, East and West, all leading to separate rooms including the main bedroom, bathroom and closet, all his for his own liking. He, of course, heads to the East, in the direction of his bed. It’s equally as cold in there but Jeongguk doesn’t care.

Under his breath, Jeongguk hums something unintelligent, waiting until he’s right by the side of his bed to twirl around. His arms find themselves back around you, lifting you off the ground which elicits a squeal of surprise and falls with a soft pat on top of the bed. Your pelvis is on his abdomen, your face on the bed next to his neck and he holds you tighter, engulfing your smell and warmth. Amongst the drugs and the childlike excitement, Jeongguk is an affectionate drunk around those who matter to him. His exhale of breath akin to a sigh tickles a breeze on your ear, and you struggle to pick your head up and look at his face; he meets you with a titter and puckers his lips, kissing you before you can decline. He grins triumphantly.

“Got it.”

“Mm, you did.”

He laughs again, the kind of laugh that sounds gravelly. He’s so drunk. “Got you.”

Humming, you entertain that thought, reaching your head to peck his jawline. Jeongguk sighs contently, about to move his hands from your waist to your thighs when you shuffle up and away, his brows furrowing with perplexion. “You’ve got me.”

Jeongguk’s head tilts. “Where are you going? Don’t leave.”

“I’m going to use the bathroom, and then I’ll be right back,” you promise him. Jeongguk pouts, emotionally clingy which is unusual, but flops back down onto the bed without vocal protect.

In the time it takes for you to rush to the bathroom, pee out of nervousness and nervously pet your hair and make it look absolutely no different, Jeongguk is knocked out asleep when you re-enter the room. His breaths are quiet, and heavy, his legs hanging off the side with his heels on the floor. The urge to sigh is unreal, but you know he must be tired, more tired than you are. Standing just before him on the bed, you’re uncertain of what to do first, but then you move to pull his feet out of his shoes, quietly tossing them to the side and then hauling his legs up onto the mattress. At some point during the night, he might shuffle- he does, slightly, when his body is on one level, and he sleepily worms his way to the side of the bed closest to the window, the right side, his side.

Half of your heart wants to leave. Maybe the way Jeongguk acted tonight was purely because of things he drank, things he lets into his body. But, subconsciously, you know better; the other half of you begs for you to stay. If Jeongguk changed his mind, it would be one walk out of the door and out of his life, easy and simple.

Instead of thinking about that, you gently toss your jacket to the floor and kick off your own shoes, laying flat next to Jeongguk as he falls deeper into sleep. Even if he wakes up with cold feet tomorrow morning, at least he won’t be alone.

The next morning, it is raining. It doesn’t often rain, and so you can’t help but hear the heavy sound of rain outside the window, no thanks to yourself for forgetting to close it before climbing next to Jeongguk. Speaking of the man, he remains asleep, his head twisted on the pillow facing you with his body flat on his back, one leg up and the other spread out. He looks so peaceful, hopefully at peace with his dreams.

Without waking him up, you roll over off the bed and sink your feet to the floor, silently retreating to the bathroom with your phone in your hand. Surprised by the time, it reads eight fifty am, and you scroll down your notifications which seem to have multiplied unusually. Few are from Instagram but majority are texts, from Yoongi and Jimin, one from your Mom that reads a simple “happy bday” and nothing more.

[03:32AM]: Yoongi 👹: hope ur safe and ok [03:41AM] Yoongi 👹: did u go home?

He sent those at three.

[08:50AM] You: shit sorry [08:50AM] You: was sleeping [08:51AM] You: im still with jeongguk, he passed out and i stayed so he wouldn’t wake up on his own

There is a short silence.

[08:53AM] Yoongi 👹: ok, be safe [08:53AM] Yoongi 👹: jimin says good morning lol

Sitting on top of the closed toilet, you hurriedly reply to the flurry of messages and by the time you’ve finished, ten minutes have passed and it is now nine. Checking over yourself in the mirror and deciding that you could ultimately look a lot worse, you move back into the bedroom, overhearing loudness from the remaining people in the house who had an early start to the day.

Jeongguk stirs slightly, showing signs of being awake. Under his breath he groans, reluctant to confirm his consciousness by keeping his eyes closed, and you slowly reach to put your phone back on the bedside table and clamber on all fours onto the bed. With the weight dipped, Jeongguk huffs, peering open one eye and watching you crawl up to him, knees near his body and hands brushing the long hair out of his eyes.

“Morning, sleepy-head,” you coo, voice quiet because nine is still early.

Jeongguk groans, saying nothing. He shifts, ironing out the cramps in his limbs and sitting up, reaching a hand out for you, grabbing air like a child. Your gaze drops to the way his fingers roll expectantly and you slip your hand into his, taken aback when he tugs you over onto him, your legs over his hips as his arms steady around your waist.

Suddenly he’s very awake, moving your hair back and then kissing you, like he’s been starved of it. It begins gentle, timid, with his hands barely touching you as if he’s expecting you to move away and reject it. You don’t, however; when he pulls back you immediately move back in, twisting your arms around his neck, prompting him to follow by tightening his arms around your body, bringing you flush up against him, hips touching, sex throbbing. Jeongguk groans into your mouth, his hands guiding your body as you make shy movements, barely rolling up against him creating friction he wasn’t aware he needed so badly.

Jeongguk isn’t sure if what he’s doing is okay, and you don’t care. All that seems to matter is having you near him, as close as you can possibly be. Under your shirt, Jeongguk slides his hand up your back until it’s at the back of your neck, his left tight on your hip bone as the guider. He welcomes, no, encourages, your hips rocking against his slowly, teasingly, perfect momentum for the morning with the rain. It is both unnerving and exciting in how Jeongguk remains silent, save his occasional groans into your mouth. 

Once Jeongguk has grown bored of kissing your mouth, satisfied with all he’s done, his mouth departs and moves to your jaw, peppering a line of wet kisses from the underside to your neck. His hands spring away and move to hastily unbutton your shirt, unpopping one at a time as you whimper, feeling the hardness buried in Jeongguk’s jeans begging to be free.

Jeongguk breathes heavily, desperately pulling the buttons undone and undressing your shirt from your body. At first, he barely notices the fact that your bra is missing until the shirt is down to your elbows, sexily like a shawl, and his eyes land on your hardened nipples. Jeongguk half laughs, touching his thumbs on the underside of your breasts.

“Just like that,” he mutters, and you pout through a whimper that brings his eyes up to your own.

“Shut up, there was no way I was sleeping with it on,” you reply, and he hums, it makes sense. Jeongguk doesn’t blame you- why would he? He’s a guy, he likes tits; he likes your tits, smallish and round, big enough for him to hold and fit in his mouth, which he does.

Raising his eyebrows, Jeongguk smirks and brings his mouth to your right tit, his mouth around your nipple and you moan sweetly, your hand raking through his messy bed-curls. Like taking a toothless bite out of a whip of ice cream, Jeongguk’s lips pull around it, his eyes flickering up to observe your expressions- one glance and he immediately feels overwhelmed, a pressure on his crotch, discomfort, the need to be free. His hips stutter and he ruts up against you, two clothed crotches rubbing together, stolen gasps in the morning ambience. Finished with his hands on your tits, Jeongguk fully removes your shirt, balling it up and throwing it across the room, where it lands pathetically on one of the knobs of his drawers.

In one movement, Jeongguk secures his arms around you and hikes himself up onto his feet, squatting and turning so you should fall on your back. Following, he pushes you down into the mattress, your head half on the pillow and this time, his legs on your hips, not an overpowering weight but enough to keep you pinned down. You writhe, your back arching up off the mattress as Jeongguk’s mouth trails down from your face, where he leaves a starting kiss on your lips, down your neck and between your breasts, encouraging the roll of your hips with his hands. Muttered incoherence is all he can hear as he shimmies down, his tongue on your skin, teasingly licking a stripe up across your crotch covered by uncomfortable jeans.

Jimin, that fucker, he’d been right. Skinny jeans truly were the least practical outfit.

Jeongguk straddles himself up, planting his body over you like one would during sex. Humming against your lips, Jeongguk’s teeth pull at your bottom lip, his left hand gripping your leg and positioning it around his waist, your legs parted and his crotch directly hitting yours with every grind. Jeongguk gives nothing away- he stares, unwaveringly and deadpan directly into your eyes, grunting at the faces you pull, the whimpers leaving your lips, your rutting underneath him.

He buckles unexpectedly, pounding you deep into the mattress with a high pitched moan, captured by his mouth as he squeezes your flesh around his hand, holding you to him like letting you go would result in him losing you entirely. Jeongguk’s torn between wanting to cry and scream; in his short, sad, twenty one years of living, he’s not sure he’s ever felt as desperate for another person before. Never craved somebody the way he craves you, never needed somebody the way he needs you. Jeongguk stares into your eyes, opia. For fucks sake- he likes you so much, needs you so much-

“Jeongguk, you up?”

Freeze frame. Namjoon steps into the room, his eyes widening with surprise when he comes through the East and spots your shoes and bra by the door, shirt hanging off the cupboard, and Jeongguk on top of you with his lips on your neck, hands on your waist, leg around his middle and crotch up against his. Over Jeongguk’s bicep, you stare at him, your eyes blown open, but Jeongguk doesn’t seem to stop, or even care. Even when you grip on his bicep to let him know you’re not alone, Jeongguk looks up from your neck and spots Namjoon. A soft exhale leaves his lips and he grunts, unbothered.

“Yeah,” he replies bluntly, biting down on your neck and revelling in the tug he receives in his hair when he does so. Still, Namjoon stands by the door in awe, unsure of what to do or say. Jeongguk pulls away, his face still stuffed in your neck, “you need something, Namjoon?”

“I,” Namjoon says, gathering his thoughts. He clears his throat. “Sejin called...He said he’s going to be round at about eleven ish, so I was, um, coming to see if you wanted breakfast, or…” As he speaks, Jeongguk is selfish, still grinding against you like Namjoon’s not even there. He’s listening though, his ear free to hear as he sucks his mouth on your skin, practising sex against your jeans.

Naturally, Namjoon’s gaze wanders to your breasts when Jeongguk picks himself up slightly, grabbing one with his palm and kissing patterns across your sternum. He gulps, uncomfortable.

“Be down in a minute,” Jeongguk says, shrugs, not really a promise. Namjoon nods, flushing as you moan unexpectedly, your traitor pussy having a mind of its own, controlling the way you think. Namjoon about makes out an arch on the grey comforter and catches your gaze, half-lidded, and he turns away, he’s seen enough.

“Take your time,” Namjoon squeaks out, unsure of whether the flush is for his head or his dick but he’s not sticking around to find out, and hurries out the door and back into the house. Jeongguk’s facade doesn’t fall until he knows for certain that Namjoon has left, which means he waits until the sound of laughter resonates downstairs, meaning Namjoon’s said his piece to the rest of the band likely gathered somewhere, waiting for him.

Planting one final kiss to your breast, Jeongguk groans and picks himself up onto his hands, his torso still over the lower half of your body and his gaze on your chest. It doesn’t move for a moment, staring in silence until he suddenly starts laughing to himself. The tangled mess of hair bounces with his shoulders and his head drops for a few moments, and then he peers up at you with a smile and you can’t contain your own bubbling laughter, scandalised.

“I know I’m a day late,” he breathes, “but.” Jeongguk smiles softly, “Happy birthday, gorgeous.”

“Mmm. Thank you,” you preen. “Best birthday ever.”

This causes Jeongguk to guffaw, laughing under his breath. “Joon enjoyed it too.”

“You’re such a prick, you could have stopped,” you laugh to him, slamming his shoulders gently. Jeongguk grins, shuffling until his ass is on your stomach, straddling with his hands intertwined with yours.

“Yeah,” he agrees, because he could have. “Didn’t feel like it though. Plus, he said you were pretty once. ‘Mnot taking any chances with you.”

You gasp, astounded. “And what if I had thought he was pretty, too?”

“Then I’d cry,” Jeongguk replies simply, considering it a successful quip when you laugh sweetly, your cheek on your shoulder looking up at him like he was God’s angel. He blinks, like he’s processing the information, “thank you for staying. Look, if last night I was fucked up, it’s okay if you’re not cool with that. It can be a lot and I-”

“Jeongguk, I’ll always stay. If you need me, I’ll stay,” you tell him seriously. “I’m here for you, even when it’s difficult. I-” you pause, “I care about you.” It won’t be the last time Jeongguk feels like he has nothing to say to you, and honestly, it’s not the first time either.

Jeongguk looks down at you, his face devoid of a smile now that your words have settled in. When he realises what you’re saying, what that means for him.

“I’m sorry. I’m...a fucking shit show,” Jeongguk says quietly, and he barely moves when you instantly sit up, rising with your palms cupping his face, holding him gently and closely.

“Please don’t say sorry. I’m here, if you need me,” you say to him. “If you want me.”

“I do,” replies Jeongguk. He licks his lips, “of course I do.”

Warmth blossoms in your chest, and it would be easy to kick back, let him keep kissing, stay in the warmth of his bed covers. So suddenly, life feels like it can get better. So suddenly, it feels like everything is going to be okay.

(LOS ANGELES)

Things begin to change quite suddenly.

In the moment, you hardly realise how fast paced life is moving for you, too caught up in the moment, in the thrill of what has become of your life after the show at the Hollywood Palladium. For some reason, you didn’t expect to be an addition to Jeongguk’s life after the party, especially considering August Blue still had several other shows and cities to perform in, meaning the likelihood of seeing him decreased.

He had surprised you, though, by making a considerable effort to frequent DBOY whenever he could before he left for Jersey, alongside the rather spontaneous decision to take you for dinner after your shift, ending with a bang and a kiss and your mother peeking from behind a curtain inside the house when Jeongguk pulled up to drop you home instead of your own flat afterwards. 

As far as you knew, nothing with Jeongguk had especially changed; judging off the lingering smell of nicotine and alcohol when he turned up to get you, and pictures of dark lights and white tables on his private accounts, which only made it harder to say goodbye to him.

There had been a change in pace between Jeongguk and yourself, an establishment of feelings discussed over that afternoon dinner looking out at the ocean. It had been unexpected and impulsive, you still dressed in your lackluster University outfit and Jeongguk in attire that he put on when he woke up in the morning, but everything seemed to feel right.

It hadn’t been much, nothing but him setting the record straight that he wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he wanted to do it- if you would have it, he’d like to be in your life. There was the bump in the road that was his status, his tours and his unspoken struggle with white lines and drunken nights that could be troublesome. Could turn you off, could make you not want him. You laughed at that like it was the funniest and simultaneously the stupidest thing he’d ever said, and maybe it was.

Across the room, Jimin kicks his feet up onto the coffee table despite countless efforts to get him to stop. Now that the late birthday weekend spent with your family had come to a happy end, you were once again welcomed in your shared flat with Jimin; it’s a measly apartment close to campus with an expensive empty third room that you both use as art storage. Next to him on the couch is the greasy pizza box, his fingers pulling a slice off the cardboard. You stand behind the couch, looking at the back of his head, and then look back at your phone. As always, there’s nothing, no notifications besides an Icloud storage backup failure. You sigh, having expected it.

Jimin looks up when the couch dips in weight as you sit next to him, moving the pizza box to his lap rather than your spot. He has the nerve to appear offended, still shoving a slice in his mouth.

“I’ve picked the movie,” he starts.

“Swear on God, if you’ve picked Orphan again, I’m going to beat your ass.”

“It’s the best horror movie to date, come on!” Jimin argues, making zero effort to change the movie once it’s already started. People who didn’t know Jimin would take a look at him and anticipate him to be an angel, questioning why you would ever be annoyed by such a cute face. This- this is why. 

Regardless, all you give Jimin is an eye-roll and decide to quietly accept the fact that your movie night has, once again, become an ode to Orphan. It’s not a problem- if a movie could define and represent a friendship, Orphan could summarize your relationship with Jimin.

The movie plays as far as Esther pushing her sister into the road when disturbance arises. Jimin is the first to stir, hearing the front door to your apartment crack open and a sheepish Yoongi steps inside, a bag of takeout in his left hand and keys in the right. He is, of course, late as always, and you expect he won’t hear the end of it by the time he’s wedged himself into the room; rightly so, Jimin interrogates him on being late as the front door closes, and right as the sound of arguing fills the room a blaring ring from your phone picks up.

It’s sad to admit that you pick up your phone in lightning speed, peering in the light as Jeongguk’s contact fills the screen. The way seeing his name light up on the screen feels like an urgent release, like finding treasure after searching for so long- you haul yourself up off the couch and head back towards the kitchen as the couple shuffle in. Glancing at them as they collapse in laughter to the couch, you smile and answer the call from Jeongguk that never stops ringing.

“Jeongguk,” you say, once you’ve picked up and heard nothing but murmured party ambience over the line. Something crackles, like the movement of clothes, and Jeongguk hums like he’s in a trance. “Can you hear me?”

“Hi baby,” his voice calls. He laughs, lucid, “Y/N, baby. Hi baby.”

“Hi,” you coo in reply. “Where are you, I can barely hear you…?”

“Party!” laughs Jeongguk. “Wrap up party. ‘so funny, you should come.”

A smile ignites. “I can’t, I’m not in that state. Are you having fun? What are you doing?”

For a moment, Jeongguk doesn’t reply. From the sounds of it, he seems otherwise occupied, for in the background the quiet sound of party laughter and glass clinking reminds you of where he is, what he’s doing, what he’ll end up doing. You swallow thickly.

“It’s okay,” Jeongguk says after some time. “Kinda fun.” He waits one second and then says, “can’t hear you. I’m gonna go outside, don’t hang up.”

“I won’t. I’m not going anywhere.”

Jeongguk moves outside, the party tucked behind as he leans against the brickwork of the rented bar used for the party. There’s a payphone on the wall, dripped in neon lights and he stands next to it, his body chilled by the night, leather on his skin.

“What are you doing?” Jeongguk asks, sniffing. That’s the indicator. Something inside of you sinks thinking about what he’s done, how sad it is that he does it to himself and nobody bats an eye.

You throw a glance back across the room; Jimin is settled in Yoongi’s lap, bringing soft laughter out of your cousin as the still frame of Orphan burns the television screen. “It’s movie night, so Jimin and Yoongi came over.”

“Mm yeah?” Jeongguk says. “Fun, sounds so fun, Yoongi said you lived with Jimin.”

“I do,” you reply gently. “When do you come home?”

“Saturday, maybe,” Jeongguk estimates. “Then I’m gonna come see you. Wanna take you out again, can we go out somewhere, I wanna go out.”

You laugh, tucking yourself into the kitchen when Yoongi and Jimin start laughing too loudly. “Course. Just let me know when, I’ll make room for you.”

For a while, Jeongguk doesn’t say anything interesting. In fact, it’s mostly a string of incoherent and confusing sentences, his pout audible as he speaks and at least he’s not making bad decisions, half the reason you haven’t told him to go back to the party. Maybe you’re in it too deep, maybe you have no right being worried about him like that. If his band members didn’t seem to be too worried, and they’ve clearly known him longer, then why should you be so concerned?

“Called you for a reason, you know,” Jeongguk says, after a short breath of silence.

You raise your eyebrows and lean against the doorframe, pulling at your bottom lip with your teeth after asking him why.

Jeongguk sniffs and then drops a deep exhale of breath. “Missed you.” Your heart thuds painfully. “Miss you, miss your voice. You should have come.”

“Maybe next time,” you offer. You’re unsure if telling him that you didn’t come because you don’t know what you are to him is wise at this exact moment, and so you decline to offer him a reason. Not that he asks. “I miss you too. I miss you coming to see me at work, made my day.”

Jeongguk laughs to himself. “I miss it. Coming home on Saturday, can I see you then?”

You pause to think. “Ah...it’s Yoojung’s birthday.” Yoojung is Yoongi’s sister, which Jeongguk remarkably remembers. He frowns, questioning. “There’s a party at her house, I’m obviously going because I’m family.”

“Yoo is a fan of the band, I think,” Jeongguk says. “Maybe I’ll ask Yoonie if I can come, surprise her or something. Wanna see you.”

“You can’t wait an extra day? I think I’m free all day on Sunday,” you offer, but Jeongguk declines.

“Nah. Greedy.”

He sniffs once, curtly and quickly, like inhaling sandpaper. You repress a sigh, not wanting to give away anything that might upset him, and you tuck further into the kitchen to escape the noise of the couple on the couch. It rises in volume, Jimin’s tone calling for you which Jeongguk can surely hear, but clearly cares little for.

“Fair enough,” you reply, smiling. “Are you going to go back in and party?”

For a second, Jeongguk says nothing. Unbeknownst to you, Jeongguk leans against the damp bricks with his chin tucked to his collarbones, gaze hazy and a smile on his lips. The air is cool enough to straighten his head, at least clear his vision from speckles to something clean.

“Just like talking to you,” he mumbles. “I don’t know, I don’t know if I wanna party anymore.”

“Then don’t, baby, it’s okay,” you tell him, trying to avoid eavesdroppers in the living room. “Find Seokjin and leave for the night, hm? Have some rest and then we can see each other when you get back for Saturday, m’kay?”

Jeongguk says nothing, listening in the background to Yoongi and Jimin as they heckle you into living room to finish the movie. He wants to say something, more than anything he has words on his mind, sentences on the tip of his tongue; he doesn’t. His head isn’t clear enough for him to trust himself to speak. So, instead, he takes an inhale of the outside air and glances around at his surroundings, observing the moonlight on the lake nearby and the dark green ferns around the car park.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m gonna go to bed,” he decides to say.

“That’s good. Just let me know when you’re home safe, okay?” you tell him, silencing the duo with a finger to your lips and the couple on the couch suppress giggles of amusement. To them it’s funny. “Okay?”

“Yep. I’ll text,” Jeongguk promises. From behind him, the door to the club opens and you can faintly hear a voice calling him. It’s out of your hands but you hope that it’s Seokjin, or another member of the band. “Miss you.”

You smile, “I miss you too. Get some rest, okay? I’ll see you on Saturday.”

Jeongguk hums. His voice is gone in the wind, too small to speak out.

(HIDDEN HILLS)

“And, you know, don’t get me wrong- I love parties as much as the next person, believe me, but if you can’t have an Iron Man balloon just because your parents are too damn lazy to go across town to Party City to get me one, then is it really a good party?”

Min Yoojung takes a sip from her glass and practically shrivels with distaste. For some or known reason, she had assumed that when you turned eighteen, life would dramatically change and you’d suddenly enjoy the taste of alcohol. Or, at least, that’s what UK TV shows had told her- mind you, she now knows that’s entirely inaccurate.

“I mean, think about it,” she continues with a huff. “Yoongi gets his own private club hired out for his birthday with the members of KISS playing on stage, and I can’t even get a balloon?”

Yoongi sits directly across from her on the patio sofas, a cigarette between his two fingers and a glass of red wine on the small table. He hides a smirk, feigning absolute disinterest as his sister speaks, waiting until she’s finished and looking between yourself and Jimin for some sort of explanation before he speaks.

“It’s because you’re adopted,” he replies smoothly, which only sets her off more.  

To some extent, what she is saying is not flawed. For Yoongi’s eighteenth birthday, he had gotten everything he wanted, things he brought up in passing wrapped up and gifted to him on the morn of March 9th. And, Yoojung is walking proof that the myth of the baby sibling being the favourite is simply not true. Granted, Yoongi’s only the favourite because he’s semi-famous, whereas Yoojung still attends public school and dines in three star restaurants with allowance money she may as well not have. That’s not to say that her birthday sucks; it doesn’t, because the Min’s have money and standards and this party in the backyard might make a headline in some Indie magazine online. Who knows.

It’s leisurely and small, with only few celebrities in attendance not including the Min’s and their relatives. You’re not entirely unfamiliar with the life of stardom- unfortunately, being the step-daughter of Axel Choi therefore meant having a camera in your face once or twice. Even though Axel was no relative of yours, and by no means did he ever have the audacity to assume he could fill the role of your Dad: Axel was an okay guy, protective of his family and by extension, protective of you. You didn’t mind, just one less camera to hide from, one less ugly photograph uploaded online for a bit of money. 

That being said, Axel pulled a few strings and got a few A-Listers to show up, including a KPOP group that Yoojung had liked when she felt like an alien in her own country. Amongst those are some of Yoojung’s friends, who fear sitting near Yoongi because he’s the hot older brother type, and fearful of you who they don’t know, which isn’t any less scary from them knowing you.

“You haven’t done the cake yet, right?”

From behind Yoongi, out comes Wheein, one of his old friends from University. She carefully climbs over the seat to sit next to Jimin, mindful of her glass that sloshes and Yoojung sighs, pressing her chin into the heel of her hand.

“Nope. Yoongi says people haven’t turned up yet, so I don’t know what’s up with that,” Yoojung shrugs. “Honestly-” now she rises slightly, her back straight and finger pointed accusingly, “you fucking planned my whole party. Is this the Yoongi and Co show, or what?”

“Yes,” Yoongi replies, as though it were obvious. He drinks. “Stop complaining and wait, it’ll be worth it.”

Yoojung scoffs, “Yeah right. If Tony Stark doesn’t come to this house dressed in his suit making that suity noise, then consider this birthday over.”

Yoongi pauses. “Okay then, I guess I’ll start sending people back home, because you can’t even get an Iron Man balloon, what makes you think he’s gonna pop round in person?”

Yoojung shrugs, “Poetic cinema?”

“Keep dreaming, cabbage patch baby.”

“Cabbage patch baby?” Jimin laughs. That’s when Yoongi ignores Yoojung’s frustrated groans and launches into an explanation behind the name, which involves Yoongi telling Yoojung when she was little that their Mom found her in a cabbage patch. You’ve heard it before, so you’re not listening when it’s explained. Your gaze instead lifts across the patio, awkwardly catching your mother’s as she looks around for you. 

Her eyes light up when she spots you and immediately she waves you over, not taking no for an answer as those round holes turn into slits faster than you can even mouth the syllable “n”. While Yoongi dives deeper into Yoojung’s misery, you pick yourself up with a sigh and head on over towards your mother.

She stands next to Axel, as well as Yoongi’s parents, and two celebrities you vaguely remember for being present at Yoongi’s birthday many moons ago. You fake a smile, wanting to be polite, wanting it to be over. It seems your arrival had been pre-planned and expected, for your aunt turns to you with wide eyes and brings you by the elbow.

“Y/N. We were just talking about you- you know Maxine, don’t you?”

No. You regard the stranger, subtly looking them up and down and smiling tightly. “Of course! It’s so nice to see you.”

“We were just talking about the arts- classical, of course, because we all know how you turn up your nose at the modern artists of today,” your Aunt says.

“Well, I do like modern art, I just find classicals more interesting to study. More composition, colour, texture...more empathy.”

“Whatever,” your Aunt interrupts. “Maxine has a son who works in the Louvre. He’s looking for junior guides, people to talk arty to visitors and make everything sound nice.”

Maxine smiles to intervene. “Actually, he’s not high enough in the business to request people, but I do know that he’s got an eye for women who like the arts. Miyoung told me that you study it at University level.”

You nod, bored. “Yes, I do. I’m not sure I want to move to Paris for a job, though...so…”

“Oh, no,” Maxine laughs. As she does this, one of Yoongi’s other friends, Jaehyung, creeps up behind you and quietly says hello to your mother and to Axel, half listening when Maxine says, “Duke is actually on pursuit for somebody who can match his artistic background.”

This, of course, makes Jaehyung laugh suddenly. He takes a slice of cake off a nearby tray and takes a bite, moving to walk away as he says, “Y/N doesn’t need help in the dating department, I don’t think.”

You glare at him.

“What does that mean?” your mother asks. “Do you have somebody?”

“No, Mom. Nobody.”

“Sure she does,” Jaehyung winks. “Was all over Instagram.”

“That’s a lie,” you gape.

“Is it?” he shrugs. Is it?

Aunt Miyoung gasps like she’s heard an offensive secret, touching her collarbone as she looks between Jaehyung and yourself. Jaehyung grins, saying nothing and running back to Yoongi before you can slander him. You’re in for it now.

“The boy that dropped you home?” your mother presses.

“You knew about this?” Miyoung asks. “Maxine, I am deeply sorry- I feel foolish.”

“I-Yes,” you tell her finally. Jeongguk, the man in question, might not be what everybody now thinks he is, might not even be what you think he is. “It hasn’t been long, so I didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

“And he’s famous?” Axel asks.

You look at him. “Yeah. I guess. You wouldn’t believe he was, but he is.”

Axel raises his eyebrows, by now not in the least surprised by the bitterness in your tone that has been there since your mother first introduced him. He’d probably be more surprised if you didn’t talk to him like that. Regardless, Axel takes it with acquiesce, glancing at your mother for some sort of guidance that she can’t and won’t give to him. It is in this moment that the back gate that leads to a leaky trail next to the spacious garage and past Holly’s doghouse opens, like arms inviting a hug.

The gate needs oiling, screeching to gain attention as it opens and in steps pairs of booted feet. The selection of pauses, gasps and an excited murmur from Yoojung’s friendship group out over by the poolside paints the picture for you, and you don’t feel the need to turn around. Noise alone confirms that the person who opened the gate is the same man in topic of conversation, his eyes dancing around the yard until they land on Yoongi’s father, acknowledgingly and then finally onto Yoojung, who he happens to notice quickly than he does the back of your head.

“Speak of the devil,” your mother starts, recognising him.

Axel hesitates visibly and audibly. “That man. That’s him?”

You purse your lips, taking a peek over your shoulder at Jeongguk. He speaks for himself; his muscles cling underneath a white tee and leather jacket that feels overdressed, paired with faded black jeans decorated with gashes and two zips. Axel only frowns because he’s not dressed like a prep, or a future Doctor like he would have liked for you, hypocrisy. Not even dressed ‘normal’ like boys he sees on the covers of magazines belonging to your step-sister, his own blood, his actual daughter. Jeongguk is dressed for attention, his gaze high over his glasses that you’re unaware he owned.

“It might be,” you reply quietly, and it’s telling enough that Axel sighs, folding his arms.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Miyoung says quickly. “You should have just told us it was Jeongguk.”

“You know him?” asks Axel.

Miyoung nods, sipping her wine. “Sure. He’s been friends with Yoongi for a few years now- we actually cleared him to visit for Yoo’s birthday.” Finally she acknowledges you: “Handsome boy, Y/N. How did you find him? Yoongi?”

“More like he found me,” you muse. “I tried to remain professional, but he kept coming back to visit me at work.”

“Romantic,” your mother sighs honestly.

Yoongi’s father laughs. “Jeongguk has a type.”

You stare at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs. “The last time he had a girl on his arm he bed her and got rid of her. Funny, actually, you two had the same hair.”

“Hair isn’t a type,” Miyoung snaps.

“I’m just saying,” he continues, shrugging again. “Don’t get your hopes up, honey.”

“So, he’s a player?” Axel grunts.

“No,” you defend quickly. “No. Well- yes, he was. People change when they’ve found the right person to change for.”

Axel chuckles wryly. “And you think you’re the one to change him?”

“Not change him, but I’ll be there for him whenever he needs me,” you nod. “I trust him.”

“I can feel my ears burning.”

Jeongguk’s voice creeps over your shoulder before you can even notice that he has made his way over towards you; the feeling of his chin rested just above your ear makes your body pause and he wraps one arm around you, observing everybody in the huddle. The Min’s consider Jeongguk secondary family, welcoming him with a smile that Axel doesn’t reciprocate, not that Jeongguk gives a shit. For Jeongguk, this is monumentous, the time for him to prove himself to the guy who didn’t believe in him.

Actually, he’s surprised to find that the feeling of worship he felt for Axel as a teenager is still there, now that he’s standing right in front of him. It’s strange, subdued and numbing, but still there and pressing. Jeongguk tries to look anywhere but at Axel, but he can’t help it. Axel doesn’t even remember him, and has the audacity to stare at Jeongguk like it’s his first time, first impression of the guy dating one of his daughters.

Jeongguk pauses his thoughts and thinks back to you- are you dating? Wouldn’t hurt to lie, just to piss of Axel even more. Jeongguk wasn’t an exceptionally smart guy but he wasn’t stupid; it was evident that Axel didn’t like him, obvious from the ugly grimace on his face. He doesn’t care- Jeongguk relishes in his dislike. That gives him power, now.

“Jeongguk,” says Miyoung, smiling wide.

Beside her, your Uncle sips his drink, silent and occasionally glancing between Jeongguk and Axel. Maybe everybody disliked Axel, Jeongguk thinks to himself, as he stares at the pulled crease between your Uncle’s eyebrows. He knows vaguely that you’re related to the Min’s through your mother, and that they, unlike your mother, never got over the death of your Dad. Maybe they too can’t stand the sight of Axel, bragging and sour-faced, acting like a member of the family when in reality, all he is is an imposter, a wolf in sheeps’ clothing, awkward and looking misplaced.

Jeongguk smiles back at Miyoung. “Hi, it’s good to see you. Thanks for having me.”

“Our pleasure,” Miyoung replies. “You’re a punk, y’know- dating our Y/N. None of us had any clue! Why hide such a beauty?”

Jeongguk grins. His arm wrapped around you tightens gently. “Sorry. We didn’t want to rush into making anything public…” He trails off, looking at you. “Get nervous and tell people?”

“Actually, you have Jaehyung to thank for that,” your mother pipes up with a sigh. For the first time, Jeongguk looks at her entirely. She looks nothing like you, too done up with surgery and makeup for him to see a resemblance. Maybe you looked like her before, maybe you favoured your Dad. “I’m Jennifer, Jenny, by the way. It’s lovely to meet you.”

Jeongguk smiles constantly, accepting her tight hug as she welcomes him. “Jeongguk.”

“Y/N doesn’t talk about you,” she says.

“In fairness, I don’t talk about anything,” you add, but she’s not listening. Jeongguk is, though, and his heart tugs. He’s got the situation kind of figured out.

“I don’t blame her,” Jeongguk replies smoothly. “We weren’t sure it was time to make things official- it’s new.”

“And it’s serious?” Axel asks, speaking for the first time.

Jeongguk watches him. “Yes, sir.”

Axel bristles. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. I’m Axel, I’m Y/N’s father.”

“Step father,” you cut in.

“Father,” he repeats. Axel extends a hand outwards for Jeongguk to shake. Even though he hesitates, Jeongguk accepts, firmly shaking it. It’s a good handshake, Axel ought to be impressed. What doesn’t sit right is Axel calling himself your father- something he’s never been given the right to say.

“We actually have met before,” Jeongguk says, and around his arm he feels you tighten, briefly glancing up at him.

All eyes in the huddle are on Axel, including the long forgotten Maxine who watches quietly. “Did we? I don’t remember you.”

“Well, it was a long time ago,” Jeongguk explains with a flat tone. “We were in Busan. You came into my work and bought some cigarettes, I had your opinion on some of my work.”

While Axel thinks about it, your mother gasps happily, clueless and embracing her hands. “Oh, that’s wonderful. Honey, it’s great that you helped this young man.”

Unknowingly, the Min’s writhe on their spots. They know this story. They know the truth- maybe that’s why they dislike Axel the way everybody else does.

“Did I?”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk continues, with the same flat tone that makes you shudder. “Yeah. You told me our music was shit and that I’d never make it in the business because I was a Korean boy from Busan with dreams I couldn’t reach. You told me we’d never succeed and that we’d be stuck in Busan flipping burgers and working night shifts at 7-11, and that the only way I’d succeed was if I was American. Dunno if you remember that, but I did.”

Nobody says anything. Not even Axel, who stares coldly.

“Well, we made it,” Jeongguk laughs quietly. “I took your advice and it really helped motivate me to prove you wrong. We’re number one on Billboard and we’re making history as the first all Korean band to top the charts and headline The Governors Ball next year. Not bad for a basement boy from Busan, right?”

Your mother gulps. “That’s really wonderful, Jeongguk, you should be really proud.”

Jeongguk pities her. “Thank-you. We worked hard for it. Now we’re here.”

“And I suppose it will do Y/N some good, being with somebody so successful.” For the first time since Jeongguk’s arrival, Maxine speaks up. She cradles her champagne glass tenderly and examines Jeongguk with her slinted fox-like eyes, as if nursing a different agenda.

“Thank you,” repeats Jeongguk. He tightens his arm around you, obviously enough to create a statement. While it’s mostly to prove to everybody- and himself- that you and him are an item, it’s also to rub extra salt into Axel’s wounds, his face like he’s sucking on a lemon. “Y/N helps keep me driven a lot. I owe her so much already, I’ll make her happy and do her proud. Thanks to Y/N, I don’t think I could be here. I’m here because she suggested it, actually, for Yoojungie.”

“And a good job, too,” Miyoung finally says, trying to avert the tensions. “Else Yoojung would be miserable at her own birthday party.” And everyone laughs, apart from Axel, not that anybody cares. “Jeongguk, shall we start the music up?”

Jeongguk nods. “I’d love to. Thanks, Mom.”

She smiles, walking away to prep. Feeling Axel’s stare cold on your skin, you gently push yourself into Jeongguk, until he’s walking backwards towards the selection of trees where you turn in his arms, looking up at him. Jeongguk smiles honestly for the first time, his heart thumping.

“Hi,” he says gently.

“Well, you know how to make an entrance,” you note thoughtfully. Jeongguk’s eyes rake your own, wordless. “Be careful how you act around Axel. He’s strangely protective.”

“I thought he wasn’t family.”

You frown. “He’s not. But he’s still… you know. Part of the family.”

Jeongguk says nothing at first. “I get it. I do,” he assures with a nod. The next moment, he has his hands on your upper-arms, smoothing. “It’s good to see you, by the way. You look beautiful.”

A smile crosses your face. “It’s good to see you, too. Missed you.”

“I missed you too, we just got off the plane this morning,” Jeongguk explains. Took a nap on the way home and then got dressed and we came straight here.” He pauses playfully: “Do I look okay?”

You laugh girlishly, catching his elbows with your fingers. “You look great. Who knew you wore glasses?”

Jeongguk grins. “They’re fake, I’m a fraud.”

“Of course,” you joke. “Like all rockstars.”

“Hey, don’t bring in my fellow rockers!” Jeongguk laughs too, an unusual sound. “As much as I wanna stand around and stare at you, I need to go and say hi to Yoojung and perform and stuff. It’s kinda why I’m here…”

“LOL,” you say. “You don’t have to explain yourself, Guk. Go, I’ll survive.”

“Okay,” he resists. “But I’ll come back later, yeah? Can’t ignore my girlfriend.” Jeongguk raises his eyebrows mischievously and then, rustles in his pocket whilst speaking, “Oh, wait. Happy-” he checks the time and shows his phone screen to you as he steps backwards, “-ten minute anniversary, babe.”

As Jeongguk steps away, dragging his fingertips along your palms as he steps backwards towards the curved pathway around the pool, a warm feeling simmers in your stomach. Maybe it’s the sunlight shining gold across his skin or the way his smile finally reaches his nostrils, extending wide, his eyes folded into moons- but something about the whole ordeal seems safe, seems gorgeous and heavenly, at the same time domestic. He winks, turns and heads towards the rest of August Blue sheltered around Yoojung and Yoongi, and you’re left with the imprinted image of Jeongguk’s smile on the spot of grass he just stood on, burning, refusing to leave.

[23:39PM] Jeongguk❣️: so i don’t think ur family like me…. [23:39PM] Jeongguk❣️: am i out of the picture now?

The sound of your phone fills the room and pulls you out of the bathroom, which connects to your family bedroom back in the house your family live at currently. Yoojung’s party had ended hours earlier, the grand finale with Jeongguk helping bring out her cake, fireworks on the evening, a hand on your waist.

Rubbing at your wet hair, you sit on the bed and reach for your phone, glossing over the messages, smiling.

[23:40PM] You: hey now [23:40PM] You: i don’t think my family like me either [23:41PM] Jeongguk❣️: wanna run away and be my family? [23:42PM] Y/N: where are we running to? [23:42PM] Jeongguk❣️: idk yet [23:42PM] Jeongguk❣️: somewhere nice [23:43PM] Jeongguk❣️: far away [23:43] You: omg yes [23:44PM] You: kinda wanting to go to hawaii...what are your thoughts on hawaii, gukkie? [23:45PM] Jeongguk❣️: hawaii on a first date? imagine that….. [23:45PM] Jeongguk❣️: u DO dream big [23:45PM] You: i tried [23:46PM] Jeongguk❣️: it’s not exactly hawaii [23:47PM] Jeongguk❣️: but how about a late night rendezvous at olive garden

(At the same time…)

[23:47PM] Jeongguk❣️: omg … as if i just spelt that word right [23:47PM] You: autocorrect, u cant fool me [23:47PM] You: and omg sure…..,,,,,, [23:48PM] You: something tells me ur already here and thats why you’re asking

(A honk outside your window.)

[23:49PM] Jeongguk❣️: 🤪 [23:49PM] You: my hairs wet 🥺 [23:50PM] Jeongguk❣️: i’ll roll down the windows?

(A sigh.)

[23:50PM] You: pls give me five minutes

Jeongguk had been parked up outside, his car hidden half in the shadows by a flickering streetlight, inconspicuous and with the inside lights on. It had taken all but three minutes to find his car, and another three for you to warm up to talking to him inside the car. Slipping into the passenger seat with the sound of Magnetic Moon on the AUX and the shining smile from Jeongguk had been nerve-wracking, perhaps nerve-wracking is even an understatement. Nonetheless, the song had rolled to an end and just before Tiffany could transition into the smooth vocals of Lana, Jeongguk said his first few words beyond “hi”.

Olive Garden was a few miles away from your neighbourhood- small and pushed to the side with a selection of palm trees scattered outside, like a postcard for Malibu. Like most, if not all American’s, you’ve been here before, already have a go-to on the menu. Jeongguk drives into a parking bay near the shrubs and opens the doors for you, pulls out chairs, goes the extra mile ordering wine in advance in a private section of the restaurant that you didn’t know existed. You’ve only ever been here with Yoongi and Yoojung, two celebrities who sometimes have the luxury of leaving the house and not getting immediately noticed.

“What do you wanna do after?”

Jeongguk, halfway through cutting his sirloin steak, glances up with an honestly surprised expression. “You still want to hang out after?”

You shrug, taking a sip of the wine. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because our first date since I got back from tour is at fucking Olive Garden,” Jeongguk states.

“I like Olive Garden…” you mumble, which he hears.

After swallowing a large mouthful, he sends it down with a gulp of wine. “Well, I’m not gonna complain. Shall we go for a drive? You ever been to the beach at night?”

“I live in LA, who hasn’t been to the beach at night?”

“Okay, true,” he replies. “I used to do it all the time in Busan, too. Lived right across the road, could see the sands from my front porch.”

Once dinner is over, and once Jeongguk has quite finished coercing you into sharing an ice-cream sundae with him, Jeongguk takes you up on the invitation to drive to the beach, the night sky like looking into the eyeball of a stuffed animal, the stars like specks of dust on an Afterlight edit. The boulevard is lit up by circular bulbs, tiny attractions for moths, bright like close up stars. Jeongguk drives smoothly, the window slightly down and occasionally his eyes glanced over at you; your hair is messed in the wind, the sound of Kim Petra on the AUX sending your body into little bops, something Jeongguk wants to remember for the rest of his life.

“So much for letting my hair dry.”

Jeongguk laughs from the back of the car, closing the boot and bringing out some spare towels to hand over to you. They’re yellow, like fresh little buttercups, and slightly wrinkled, smelling like faint juice and sea-salt. Regardless, you take the towel off him and begin to quickly rub it against your hair, once again trying to even out the wetness, less than the shower back home, enough to still drip on your arms and legs.

“You splashed me first,” Jeongguk replies, standing outside the door whereas you sit with your legs hanging out, sideways on the backseat. Behind him is the beach, dark and the sound of the ocean lapping like television static, the faint sound of the amusement arcade down the prom. His body is wet too, the ankles of his jeans clinging to his skin with ocean water.

You turn your head to him, smiling. “Guilty.” When he laughs, you continue to speak and bring the towel back down to your lap, “Okay, it’s what they all do in the movies. What else are you supposed to do on a beach at like...midnight. Wait, what time is it?”

“I dunno, like, three?” he guesses.

“No way.”

“Feels like three. Check the front.”

You lean over to check. “It’s definitely not three.”

Jeongguk shrugs boyishly, that same grin creating dimples near his chin. “Not far off. It was a guess.”

“Good for a guess,” you assure. Jeongguk wrangles the towel from your hands politely, wringing it out and throwing it back into the boot. Your hair can dry again in the wind when Jeongguk drives away, the same way it did when he picked you up. He has this theory on his mind as he walks back around to the open door, although the words leave him when he returns, having found that he has nothing at all to say now it’s come down to it.

Jeongguk moves back in, his body shoved between your legs slightly as he moves closer. You gaze up at him, the light behind him making his body glow dark, sighs like whispers in the quiet ambience.

“I really had a lot of fun tonight,” Jeongguk says, like it’s a secret. “Even though this morning your family almost had a heart attack discovering that we were, well, whatever we are...I still had fun.”

You hum in agreement, watching his face as it moves into the light. “Yoojung had the best time. I haven’t seen her that happy since she met Paul Rudd at Disneyland, and that’s seriously impressive.”

Jeongguk laughs quietly. “Paul Rudd.” He almost can’t believe that.

“As for us,” you continue, stress on the ‘us’ which brings Jeongguk’s attention full circle and back entirely onto you in the backseat of his ride, “well...what are we?”

For a few moments, Jeongguk doesn’t say anything. “I have the fantasy and the reality.”

You nod, encouraging, and so he continues. “The fantasy is that we give it a go. We try it, really try. Y/N, with every small inch of my delicate, precious body-” (giggles are delivered by you as he speaks)- “I absolutely adore you. And I never knew I could feel like how I feel with you. I only ever wanted the sex, and even then, I didn’t want it that badly, and then you wandered into my life and everything feels so...so...I don’t even know a word. I just know it feels amazing when I’m with you- I feel amazing. And, of course, the reality is that we’re two sad early twenties rich kids who are pining and don’t know what to do about it.”

And it’s true, it’s so true. The sad reality of it all was that unless either one of you stepped up first, this dynamic of uncertainty would continue on as the norm. Where you were too shy to be bold and make a move, Jeongguk felt too insecure to step up.

“Well, then…” you start, chewing the inside of your cheek, thinking. “How about we try making the fantasy our reality?”

Nothing.

Jeongguk blinks and cocks his head in bewilderment. “Really?” You nod. “You want to?”

“If I didn’t want to, why the hell would I leave my house with wet hair to go eat at Olive Garden and lovingly stroll on a beach at midnight?”

Jeongguk’s eyebrows raise in amusement. “Oh, so it was loving?”

“I was definitely feeling some kind of way,” you confirm.

At long last, Jeongguk smiles wide, shuffling closer. His hands wrap around your face gently, like holding a delicate bird in two palms, and his fingers brush against your ears, tickling the skin, nails fingering your hair.

“That’s good to hear,” he replies, “Great, actually.”

“Yeah?”

Now, Jeongguk hums, his trademark reply for when his eyes are too lost for words to be conjured up to describe how he feels about what he sees. He is, what one might recall to be as “lost for words”. His teeth clip at his bottom lip as he questions what he’ll do next, and for a brief moment you catch his tongue darting out in nervousness as he leans closer, smell of mint on his breath as his lips touch yours, and the heavens open.

Metaphorically and literally, so. As Jeongguk brings you closer to him, his lips still pressed on yours, his heart elevates into subspace, his body light and euphoric. At the same time, the sky grumbles, hungry, and it begins to pour, tiny droplets on the roof of the car and on Jeongguk’s back. He winces, doesn’t pull away, and quickly separates himself from you to squint at the sky.

He sees nothing, because it’s way too dark, but he feels it. Sighing briefly, Jeongguk turns back to you and nods his head upwards, miming for you to shuffle backwards into the car. A rush of something hot creeps down the middle of your body as you do so, feeling Jeongguk’s hand on your calf as he climbs in after you, his ankle caught on the door bringing it to a close, but not fully. The red alarm light is bright and begging for attention but Jeongguk pays it no mind.

Instead, he crawls back to you, eager to pick up what he left. It’s welcomed, warm and inviting, as Jeongguk holds you back closer to him and returns the kiss, hot and open mouthed. Something clicks inside of you, a moment of realisation as Jeongguk sets himself over you, his thighs like a cage and his hair tickling your eyebrows. When this feeling simmers, you grin, something Jeongguk is only mildly surprised about. He doesn’t ask questions, he doesn’t really need to.

In fact, Jeongguk doesn’t really say anything at all; he doesn’t need to, and he actually can’t, given the volume of the rain now it comes down heavier. It’s so loud, almost deafening, which you almost thank out loud for. The rain at least covers up your breathy moans as Jeongguk’s hands wander, pulling at the bottom of your dress and fisting it into a ball, the fabric rising higher.

When Jeongguk finally pulls himself away, it is selfish. He pulls back and sits down, in the middle seat so there’s a window view from every angle, his feet in either footwell. Jeongguk shakes his head and hair out of the way, his hands making their way back to you to bring you up and over into his lap. This time, Jeongguk accepts a kiss from you, his cheeks cupped almost by your hands which gives his hands free reign to smooth across your body, swiftly lifting the bottom half of your dress up, wrapping it like a belt across your hips. If the rain were silent, he’d like to have heard you, heard the way you whimper as the bulk in Jeongguk’s jogging bottoms brushes against your pussy, the fabric of your underwear making it hypersensitive and ten times more exciting.

Jeongguk’s lips widen, his mouth open and inviting for you, accepting tongue when you bring your lips back to his after a short break. His eyes flutter and roll backwards, the tickle of your breath through your nose on his skin as he holds you closer, as if you can get any closer than what you already are. Then, when you quite suddenly bite down onto Jeongguk’s tongue and lips, he groans, pleasured, his hands moving beneath your skirt to grab your ass, lifting you up and down on his very attentive boner.

If Jeongguk or yourself ever thought that the first time you’d have sex would be near the public beach in the back of his car in the middle of a very thunderous rainstorm, you might have laughed, or said there would be more to it. In actual fact, it’s just how it is- Jeongguk shimmies himself out of his bottoms soon enough, reaching into the back side of the car to pull out a condom, since he always has some in case of emergencies, like most guys do. He’d like to not use one, but he knows it’s not safe- he doesn’t know if he’s got something, or if you’ve got something. Either way, he rolls it onto his dick in a record speed and sinks you down onto him all within the same ten seconds, and, yeah- it’s not what he expected to happen, it’s not what anybody expects to happen, but it feels right, feels great. When he’s fucking somebody as good and as lovely as you, he’s not allowed to be picky on the location.

He can’t allow himself to be picky- he knows that he’s wanted you ever since he saw you swirling to Dancer in the Dark, he knows that things are meant to be how they play out. Actually, he doesn’t mind it. He likes the risk of someone seeing, likes the way the windows fog up and how the car rocks slightly, obvious to people outside. Jeongguk relishes in that excitement, crossed with the pleasure and arousal coursing through his body when his attention is pulled out of hit thoughts and back onto you. The rain quietens down and he hears you, feels his hands grip tighter around you and his guided pace quicken, all with a breathy high tone in his ear, occasional breaches of rain and roars of thunder, an orchestral accompanying each of you through the sex, until gushing sounds of rain are what he hears when he sees white in his eyes and over his dick, a melting handprint in the condensation on the window.

[02:34AM] You: def just heard something on my balcony so if i die, pls tell yoongi that it was ME who lost his left airpod and it was also me who stole his signed Nirvana album it’s on my shelf im sorry [02:35AM] Jimin 🦶🏽: um  [02:35AM] Jimin 🦶🏽: wtf….. [02:35AM] Jimin 🦶🏽: u really just gonna die and not leave anything for me???? [02:36AM] You: SSKSSKKSKSKSK [02:36AM] You: u can have my bank account details + contents [02:36AM] Jimin 🦶🏽: !!!!!!!! [02:37AM] Jimin 🦶🏽: omg rip y/n <3 u will be missed omg…..omg cant believe ur dead

All jokes aside, you stare for a long time at your balcony doors, going insane at the sight of nothing at all through the glass and your curtains, slightly see-through to allow the sun in the mornings.

The night burns on your eyes, flashing swirls of colour taking over as you stare for too long at seemingly nothing at all. Quite possibly, it is the wind, or an animal that has climbed onto the balcony from out of one of the trees. It’s happened before- one time, a family of raccoons migrated onto your balcony during the September months of last year, and stayed there for so long that you forgot your balcony had doors. Those same doors are locked, like they always are on a nighttime, but the bedroom window remains open, slightly pushed out to allow in a breeze to circulate the room.

Knowing that it’s probably nothing, you settle back down into bed, drifting back into sleep remarkably fast for somebody previously quite concerned with being killed. This fact is startling- not just to you, but also to Jeongguk, who cocks a leg over your balcony rail and then through your window. What also shocks him was how easy it was to do all of this, now that he’s standing in your bedroom with nothing to say given the fact that you’ve fallen back to sleep.

Jeongguk sighs softly. It’s been about a week and a half since the beach, and the car, and the rain and the first time, but it feels like it’s been months. Jeongguk had to leave for a few days, three at the most, to film some puppy interview for Buzzfeed and continue other solo interviews while the rest of the band settled for a break in their LA residence. Every moment away felt like agony, so painful that Jeongguk found himself back outside your house, surprises stored in emails on his phone.

He steps quietly over towards your bed, wincing when his weight on top of the comforter causes a loud rustle and squeak. Still, you don’t wake, not until Jeongguk lays himself over you with his hands near your shoulders, his voice quiet and murmuring your name, hair tickling your face, lips on skin.

“Wha-Jeongguk?” you ask quietly, your voice groggy. “How’d you get in here…?”

“I think you need security, urgently,” Jeongguk replies quietly. When you roll over onto your back, he smiles gently and wraps hair from out of your face around your ear. “And you need to start locking your windows. You make a robbery look very easy.”

You sigh. “Oh. I thought it was okay.”

“Just be glad your intruder is me and not somebody else,” he says caringly. “Sorry I woke you.”

“No,” you say, rubbing your eyes. “I was awake...and then I closed my eyes for a bit. Hey, was that you out on the balcony?”

Jeongguk grins. “Knew you saw me.”

“I didn’t. Well, I did, but I thought I was being overly paranoid,” you tell him. You yawn away from him, “What time is it, babe?”

Jeongguk purposefully ignores the feeling in his chest. “It’s two fourty.”

You groan. “Are you stopping the night? Get in, I’m tired.”

Jeongguk brings himself down to kiss you once. “No. No, no, you can’t sleep right now. I wanna go out.”

“Now?” you ask, aghast.

“Yeah. Let’s go somewhere.”

“At like three-am?”

“Yeah, sorry, it was the only time I could get it. I wanna take you somewhere special.”

Once Jeongguk is finished speaking, you open your eyes wider and observe him. It’s only then that you notice his clothing; over his upper body, he wears a large oversized grey hoodie, slightly worn out and wrinkled with the drawstring missing, and as always, dark jeans that blend in with the night. A frown worms its way onto your face, your expression unreadable to Jeongguk’s eyes.

“Get it? Get what, babe?” you mutter.

Jeongguk hums, like shrugging.

“Where are we going?” you ask, starting to sit up which forces Jeongguk to roll over on the bed, until his feet swing over the side and hit the floor. He wants to stay quiet for the sake of yourself, considering he’s not looking forward to accidentally waking up your family. You’ve been staying at your parents' place for the entire week, abusing reading week for sleeping in, going out for something to eat, and returning home to watch Glee rather than finish your art assignments. Naturally, Jeongguk doesn’t want the whole family to reject him just because he woke them up at three in the morning to collect you from your room.

“Hm,” Jeongguk starts, straining to hear if anything outside your bedroom catches his ear. He faintly hears the sound of claws across the wood, remembering you once mentioning that your family had a dog. “How about we go to Paris?”

You whip around to look at him, making out his silhouette in the dark. “Paris? Are you fucking with me?”

“Why, what’s wrong with Paris?”

“There is nothing wrong with Paris,” you affirm, gasping. “I just...really? Paris?”

“Yeah. Thought we could stop by The Louvre to see that dude Maxine tried to set you up with.”

You snort quietly, moving to turn on a lamp which brightens the room into shades of orange. “How did you even know about that?”

“I hear things,” he says, shrugging. Jeongguk then shakes his head and looks back at you, making his way to the bottom of the bed. “No. I just really wanna take you out somewhere special.”

“The beach was special to me,” you tell him.

Jeongguk smiles, “Me, too. But...Paris.”

Laughter bubbles at the back of your throat. “Okay. Let’s go to Paris. Why not?”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk agrees, laughing also, “why not? Need help packing anything? You won’t need a lot, I can take you out when we get there.”

You pull a face, looking back at Jeongguk. “Wow...our first vacation together and you’re already going to spoil me?”

Jeongguk grins widely, “Well, on our first date I humped you, so I guess we’re pretty unconventional.”

You have nothing to say in reply to that.

(PARIS)

One thing you never thought you’d get the chance to do is take a trip on a private jet, holding up the scheduled flight times of other aircraft at the airport. That changes the second that Jeongguk pulls up outside of LAX, his hand carefully and tightly clamped around your own as he escorts you whilst also being escorted by his own small handful of security right into the large building. Thankfully for him, the airport is empty, occupied by sleeping flyers who wait on hard, metal chairs, the tinny sound of music playing at volume three.

His jet is small, yet luxurious; it’s everything out of a movie set, decorated in mocha creams and whites, clinking glasses of champagne waiting to be swallowed. His pilot knows him by name, and there’s a handpicked air hostess who looks bored and old, her lock screen a picture of her children. Jeongguk smiles at her, even addresses her by name and introduces you with a chirpy tone. The lady looks surprised, covering it up with a tight smile of nervousness. Maybe you’re the only girl Jeongguk’s ever brought on the plane before. Maybe you’re another girl he’s brought on the plane, you don’t know for sure.

After take off, Jeongguk spins in his recliner seat and drums his fingers in his lap. You sit opposite, looking meek, your gaze out the window at the dark clouds and sky. As you continue to fly, the sky opens up, into ombre colours that fascinate. One is looking at the beauty of nature and the other is looking at the beauty of a woman. Neither says a word.

When the plane reaches touch down, the airport is quite bustling and energetic, thankfully again no fans who caught an air of mystery from Jeongguk’s suspicious tweets at one in the morning, when he spontaneously booked tickets without even getting the green flag. Money to waste, risks to take, is what he’d say. Jeongguk helps you carry your small bag to the hired vehicle, an inconspicuous black car with black-out windows. He’s half expecting the vehicle to give him away, but nobody present actually gives a fuck about who is in the car and who isn’t. So, he climbs in without being noticed, his hand in yours, right up until the doors close and you’re hotel bound.

“Fuck, jet-lag.”

Jeongguk dives onto the bed, his back on the duvet and nose tipped up to the ceiling. Presently, you’ve been in Paris for a few hours, staring at the roads below with tired and sleepy eyes, heavy shoulders, a day indoors. Jeongguk’s been to Paris before, quite a few times actually - you haven’t, seeing the city in glimpses outside your balcony. To his right, the bathroom light clicks off and you shuffle out, a towel wrapped around your body as you cross the width of the room.

“Right?” you agree with a small frown. You crouch to pick up a fallen jacket off the back of the chair, tucked underneath the white vanity. “I almost fell asleep in the shower.”

“Yeah? You tired?”

“Exhausted,” you say honestly. “Once I’m dry, I think I might head to bed.”

Jeongguk hums in reply, maybe agreement. He lets you do what you need to do; of course, he takes a peek, because he’s a boy and he can’t help himself. You’re dressing by the window, staring out at the pretty Eiffel Tower who shines, lit up for the evening. The room is dark, dressed in midnight tones, the only light outside and the glow of one of the lamps upon the table top. Jeongguk is so wordlessly in awe that he doesn’t care about not being able to see. He sees your silhouette against the light of the city, curved and beautiful, hidden away by a long button up that you picked out of the wrong suitcase, not that he cares. His cheek is pressed against the pillow and he feels his body lifting up off the bed like he’s levitating. God, his chest is so light, it hurts, he wants to scream, he wants to cry, laugh, smile, leap up and yell. You finish buttoning and turn and he returns to the mattress.

The bed dips as you crawl up onto it, your knees by Jeongguk as you sit next to him on the bed. Instantly, Jeongguk’s hands move to your hair to move it away from your face as you look down at him, one hand on your knee also. On command, the smile on his lips widens softly when you brush away his fringes off his face, humming and then reaching down for a kiss, stealing one from his lips without warning and another off the slope of his chin.

“Paris is pretty,” you tell him. Jeongguk hums. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

He shrugs awkwardly. “Sorry it’s not the Maldives, baby.”

“Whatever. Paris is better,” you say. “Our view is gorgeous.”

You look back at the window. Jeongguk does not. “Yeah, it’s beautiful.”

“Must have been expensive as fuck,” you exhale, turning back to him. His hand that was once on your face drops to your back, wandering until it’s found on your ass. It feels nice, you can’t complain.

“Rich kids of LA come to Paris to make noise and take tourist photos by the Eiffel Tower,” Jeongguk replies, joking but sounding serious, which is a talent of his. You laugh, so he knows it’s something you recognise. He laughs too. “It’s actually in Yoongi’s name. Just asked him if I could use it for a weekend away.”

Your brows curve upwards in amusement. “Oh?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m a fraud, it’s not my apartment,” he sighs, “but, at least we’re here. Like it enough, and I’ll buy us a house here.”

“Are we really there yet?”

“Might be,” Jeongguk theorises. “Wanna try it for a bit longer?”

Nothing is said. Outside, a car honks and you sigh at the same time, through your nose, playing with your fingers with Jeongguk’s locks of hair that grow longer over his face. His head hasn’t moved, still squashed against the pillows, his earrings tangled and most likely stuck to strands of his hair, a difficulty for when he decides to move. He feels your hand on his face again, comforting, and he inhales your familiar scent and knows you’ve come closer by the time you’re there, pressing your lips to his.

It’s fleeting, fast. You pull away right as Jeongguk comes to terms with what you’re doing, and so he follows you up as you move away. He’s sitting up, his hands on your elbows as he moves to kiss you again, finish what you started.

A bar door outside opens and music spills out, just as Jeongguk’s hands move from your elbows to your ribcage, his heart in his throat when you reach up to tenderly hold his face, fingers near his ears on his neck. This is euphoria; your hands drop, Jeongguk moving once more to prod and palm. As he kisses you, his thumbs gently massage around your breasts, in circular motions, soft and cradling and exploring. Into his mouth you groan, quietly, like a vocal moan that lasts for a few seconds before being captured by his lips again. Jeongguk’s left hand claws at your boob, grabbing, reaching up to your neck. Now he’s holding you, his hair in his eyes tickling as he guides you. On your cheek, you feel his thumb grazing, holding you close to him even when you pull apart for a modicum of a second to capture your breath. Quite possibly, he could be sick out of nerves - your hands fall limply to his wrists, then down as his hands hold the damp back of your head. After a little longer, Jeongguk pulls himself away, his eyes half-lidded and yours closed entirely.

He admires what he’s done and what he sees. Once more, he kisses you, dragging it out until he’s moved away again, simply admiring. You’re far from done, though; you pull him back after catching your breath, your eyes now open and slightly fuzzy. Jeongguk smiles, warmly, gently. You might cry. As his hands drop from your head to the top of your shirt, fiddling with his fingers around the buttons, your lip gets caught between your bottom teeth and Jeongguk’s eyes are drawn to the sight. He might make a comment, might not. He decides not to. Instead, he moves back in and bides his hands time to undo your buttons.

The cool silk of your shirt drops as he undos the buttons, sliding like rainwater down your shoulders and arms, until it pools around your elbows. Thankfully for him, Jeongguk’s only in joggers and a button down, something he can easily slip himself out of. You’re wearing next to nothing, now that the shirt’s out of the question; all that decorates underneath is underwear, which Jeongguk doesn’t care for anyway. His hands paw at the shirt, trying to undo the last button without pulling away but it feels impossible. Frustrated, he huffs and moves away, his gaze locked on the final button above your pantline and he flushes when a laugh leaves your lips, something small and delicate and girly. He twitches.

“You, too,” you say, once the shirt is removed and you’re only in underwear, which is next on Jeongguk’s list of things to remove. He looks up with mild surprise, having the audacity to be confused by what you’re talking about. It is only when your fingers curl around the waist of his joggers that he smiles, like an idiot, and hums charmingly.

“Shuffle back for a minute?” Jeongguk asks, and you do, excited and buzzing when Jeongguk quickly pushes the joggers down his thighs. When they bunch around his ankles he kicks furiously, like a child, grunting - and you’re laughing, giggling like a school-girl, drunk on the residue of his lips. Of course, he smiles too, because happiness is a goddamn drug. He inhales with exasperation, muttering “아이씨” under his breath. He finishes it up with a chuckle, a voiceless laugh out of his throat, and then he kisses you again.

Jeongguk eventually ends up lifting you, one arm flush against your waist and his other hand graciously ripping down your underwear, careless and selfish when he hears the fabric tear. Your eyes widen, having heard it too, but you’re too dazed to mention it. The undies are tossed towards the balcony door and Jeongguk settles you back on his lap, for a brief moment. He kisses you again, pulling himself snug against you and then, he lays you down.

“So pretty,” Jeongguk comments, his hands sliding down your sides.

“You can’t even see me,” you say.

Jeongguk shrugs, shuffling down the bed. His elbows pinch into your thighs, locking his arms over them and his chin is on top of your groin. “Don’t need to. I just know.”

You slightly laugh, finding it endearing. Jeongguk chuckles too, pressing a kiss to your stomach and then his hands push up at your calves. With your legs up into arrow shapes, knees to the sky, Jeongguk kindly peels them apart, planting himself right in between.

“Jeongguk,” you breathe his name. He grins, you can feel his mouth extending against your skin. He doesn’t reply.

Situated between two smooth legs, Jeongguk’s head dips and dives. A groan is rasped out of you, followed by a string of moany exhales as Jeongguk’s tongue lays flat, covering every inch of your pussy further with sucks and nips that make your toes curl. Jeongguk’s not done this to you before. He feels slightly anxious, because he wants it to be good for you. He wraps his arms around your thighs, burrowing his head in.

“Mpmf- Jeongguk,” you gasp, your head hiding in the comforter. Jeongguk’s on his stomach, nonchalant. Jeongguk licks everywhere he can, kitten licks that stretch out into long ones, exploring. Your mouth drops. Jeongguk moves one hand away from your leg, his fingers curling up to your pussy to stretch out your labia, one finger lazily brushing against your clit. Each brush is exciting, teasing, sensitive. He hums. He’s heard you. He wants to hear more.

He doesn’t do more, because Jeongguk doesn’t want you to cum yet. He has his fun, feeling your thighs lock around his head and quiver when his fingers swipe on your nub, his tongue inching into your cunt, driving out sounds from your lips. Jeongguk entertains that for a few more minutes, hard and throbbing by the time you’re begging for him to stop, rather than keep going.

When he pulls away, your legs shake, quivering like being left out in the cold for too long. He lays down flat instead, tapping your body for you to make a move when you’re ready, which doesn’t take long. Soon after, he feels the brush of your wetness against his leg as you haul yourself up and onto him, hovering over his middle, your hands on his chest.

Jeongguk cocks his head thoughtfully. “Want to?”

You bite your lip. “Yeah.”

“Okay.”

Hair falls over your shoulder. “Do you have a condom on you?”

“In my bag, somewhere,” Jeongguk suggests. He glances to the pile of bags near the door, “But it’s so far away. Are you on the pill?”

“No,” you frown. There’s nothing for a minute. “Want to anyway?”

Jeongguk hesitates, “Yeah. Do you?”

“Yeah. I do,” you tell him. Just as you’re about to take his dick in your hand, Jeongguk reaches out to stop you. You look up at him, finding the glimmer in his eyes in the dull light, “what?”

“What if I cum?” Jeongguk asks.

“I’d like you to.”

“What if I cum inside of you?”

A short silence. Jeongguk drums his fingers impatiently against your thigh. “Whatever,” you settle with. His heart trembles when your hand wraps around him. “I’d be a good Mom.”

Jeongguk laughs, then, his other hand joining the other on your waist. “If it happens, I’ll look after both of you. You can be unemployed and pampered if that’s what you want.”

“God, that’s fucking sexy,” you sigh.

He’s kidding, so are you, but the risk is still great. Jeongguk swallows a thick lump down his throat and settles his hands on your hips, embarrassed to be nervous with the build up of you rising up on your knees, planted either side of his waist. A tremor of coldness makes him shudder as your hand touches the base of his dick, hypersensitive without the rubber. For a brief moment, he catches your gaze, slightly hidden away behind fringes of hair that cast over your eyes.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, nervous and rubbing his hands against your skin.

You dip your head. “Yeah. Are you?”

“Mhm. I just - just want it to be good for you,” he confesses. “Don’t want it to hurt you. Don’t want you to regret it.”

“Well, are you clean? I got tested not too long ago, did it before my last pill. I’m clean.”

Jeongguk shifts. “Did it on tour with Hoseok. He was going because of Rosie and I was going because he suggested it for us. I’m good. That sound alright for you?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “It sounds perfect for me.”

And so it’s perfect for him, too. Jeongguk questions whether this is right, whether he should stop, but right now he can’t think properly. Not when he can feel himself growing rigid in your grasp, the bristle in his body when you slowly rub your clit across the head of his cock, vibrations. He grunts under his breath, his fingers shaking against your hips. Looking up at Jeongguk once more between your hair, catching the pull of his bottom lip in the scarce light and feeling his body rising beneath you, you shake your head over your shoulders and position yourself. And then you sink.

Paris is a gorgeous city, bustling with life. Across the narrow road, where another small apartment sits with a bay window and a balcony decorated with plants, the lights flicker in strobe patterns, neons bleeding into dulls seeping into pastels. A party, a parade, an applause when the size of Jeongguk adjusts inside of you. He can’t hear you, not over the noise of the party that has suddenly birthed in the moonlight hours. Perhaps Jeongguk is thankful for this, and the way it covers up his noises also.

Jeongguk groans inwards when you clench around him, familiar with the way it feels, remembering the unaccustomed sting and burn. After some time to adjust, you relax, making your first movements up and down, testing the waters, building a rhythm. Jeongguk can’t breathe, his mind paused, his breathing lodged in his throat, his lungs singing. You keep it up, the momentum, finding a pattern in the beat of the music in the background; the bass is your routine, each bump a drop onto Jeongguk’s hips, the brush of his head against your inner walls, euphoric.

“Oh my - fuck,” Jeongguk hisses, his voice barely heard. You catch it though, like a faint whisper, the sound burning your face with embarrassment. His grip tightens, nails digging into your skin as his palms slide from your hips to your ass. He holds like handles of a motorbike, guidance.

You’re slouching, hunched over with your hands on Jeongguk’s chest. He feels a pressure, not sure if it’s your hands pushing down or if it’s his own body, forcing down an orgasm he doesn’t want to have too soon. He sees purple behind you, your dark silhouette cast over him like an angel. With every slap against his body made by your ass, Jeongguk groans, grunts, borderline moans. When he strains to hear your gasps of air something in the background masks them, a sabotage.

“Feel good?” Jeongguk asks. His hands move to your wrists.

You whimper, thoughtless.

“Babe, does it feel good?”

“Mhm.” Your head falls to the side, cheek on your shoulder: “Mhm, feels good.” Something moany comes out of your lips, something muffled and whined. Imploring, spoiled. “Fuck, Jeongguk, that feels so good - keep….keep it like that.”

Jeongguk thinks it over, familiarising himself with his own movements. His grip squeezes around your wrist.

“Like that?” He follows with his body slowly thrusting up, like he would move if he were grinding the air, like inching his hips up under the covers to feel his dick on the duvet.

“Yeah,” you breathe. Even though he can’t see that well, you glance down at him: “can you - can you hold my hands?”

Jeongguk feels his stomach sink and rise, flipping, the butterflies. “Sure, baby.”

When you feel Jeongguk’s hands in your own, you hum to yourself, rising with your fingers interlocked. Jeongguk lets you do what you want with them, obliging when you slightly part his arms, hands locked on either side in the air. You sink, and rise, and sink, and rise, and Jeongguk is lost in the stars. Red, orange, blue, magenta- the rainbow appears as your wings, Jeongguk’s eyes trying to adjust in the dark on your face, on your tits, on the bits that are grainy in his vision. He imagines instead, based off memory of the beach, and the rain. When he feels your cunt clench around him again and your hands slip away to fall back behind you, Jeongguk curses into the air and lifts himself up, his arms wrapped around your middle.

“You feel so good,” Jeongguk says, his lips ghosted over yours now that he’s sitting upright. “Mhm? Hear me? Fuck, you feel so fucking good right now-”

You whimper. Jeongguk seals it up, steals it, captures it with his mouth as he kisses you. His hands are all twisted and searching, one between your shoulder blades and the other on your ass, his mind reeling when you put your palms on his cheeks, absolute bliss. It’s loud, or it would be if he could hear over the sound of the music in the apartment over, and Jeongguk picks up pieces in between the basslines, vocals and harmonies stripped apart so he can find your voice underneath. He pulls his mouth away, latching it to your neck, where your mouth is near his ear, right where he wants it. A hot flush runs up his body when he feels your breath on his ear, hears your needy moans and groans, feels your hands clawing at his back.

“Ugh- umf, Guk, I’m - I’m close,” you pant, his reply a bite to your neck. He sinks his teeth in, like a vampire with dull teeth, and you cry out into his ear. His cock twitches inside of you, the ridges of his cock smearing against your walls. He hums, not sure if you’ll hear it. You don’t. He pulls away and mouths the bite.

“Cum when you want to,” he says sweetly, moving his mouth to your ear briefly before moving back away. His hair is soft against your neck, his head angled to kiss at your skin, covered in a glow.

“What about you?” you ask.

Jeongguk smiles, his teeth present on your skin. “Don’t worry about me. I’m right behind you.”

He nuzzles his face into your neck, his eyes closed serenely as he holds you tight, holds you as you bounce up and down for the finale. Above him, your body trembles.

“Tired,” you laugh breathlessly, and Jeongguk makes a confused noise, like he hasn’t quite heard you correctly. After no reply, he sniffs, collecting you in his arms to hold you tighter than before, using his energy to move you. You may as well be paralysed, a fucktoy for him as he bounces you up and down, basking in the moans in his ear, pornographic and nasty and lewd and heard over the music that has changed tempo.

“Ah!” Jeongguk grunts into your ear with every slam onto his dick, feeling his body seize up in warning. “Gonna - I might…” He doesn’t finish the sentence. You’re not listening to it. All you can focus on is the feeling in your stomach, pressing your nails into Jeongguk’s skin.

Jeongguk saves his own release for later. He focuses, instead, on you and making you feel good, slowing himself down in the race so that you can come first. His lips press back to yours, tongue hot, and he stops bouncing you. One arm is tight around your waist and the other snakes to the front of your body, between your legs where around your thighs he finds your clit, rubbing with his thumb. He can feel your body tense and dither over him, a tightness clenching around him as you squirm, Jeongguk’s hips tiredly thrusting upwards in a slow and steady rhythm.

“Ah - Jeongguk,” you cry, words sinking into his mouth. “Baby-”

With one final flick upwards, Jeongguk lets out a throat-forced grunt into your mouth right as the pot spills, and down the length of Jeongguk’s dick trickles white. You can’t see, it’s dark and blurry, and everything feels numb. It’s nothing like the beach, which was sweet and tender and a rainy haze. This time, it’s a burning that feels dull until it races up your body, like hot goosebumps, until it washes over your body like the drop from the tallest roller coaster. Jeongguk milks it up, his own hands shaking as he grunts wordlessly, until he stutters, his toes curling.

“Umf- babe,” he pants. He moves his hands, you’re attempting to move for him but you feel stuck. Instead you clench, hard and soft, Jeongguk squirms. “Gonna- I’m-” He’s silent. One moment, you hear the laughter and a cork pop outside, and the next moment, Jeongguk’s moans are in your ear, his hands rubbing up your thighs as he moves twice upwards, as if storing his cum in safe spots inside. And then, as if on cue, he pulls out, stuffing his hand where his dick was to feel the cum drip out, like a melting ice-cream.

On his forehead he feels your lips parted and breathing and he fiddles his fingers around, non-sexually, curious. The cum stains his fingers, dressing them, and he laughs from his chest, lost of breath.

Jeongguk sighs, slotting his fingers into your mouth quite suddenly. He can barely see you, the light is still dim behind you but it’s enough for him to make it out, the grain obtrusive. He feels your lips close around his fingers and your tongue on his fingertips, a dazed smile across his face.

He sighs again. “Shit. You’re incredible.”

With a wet sound, he moves his fingers out. Despite cumming, his dick is still semi-hard, on it’s way out. Jeongguk preens when your arms wrap around his neck, his mouth needily on yours for a brief kiss. “So good.”

“Yeah?” you ask quietly.

“The best,” he confirms. “Where’ve you been all my life, hm?”

You laugh through your nose, quiet. “Wasting money at Uni and working for my cousin.” He laughs too, a small one that makes him sound small. You play with the hair at the back of his head, “Sorry for making you wait so long.”

He shrugs. “Was worth it. You’re worth the wait.”

You hum in reply, too tired to move.

“Sticky,” you say with a frown.

Jeongguk’s arms tighten around you, acknowledging your words. “And you just got clean.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll shower in the morning.”

After a short while of sitting there, you slowly untangle your arms from around him. Jeongguk has the nerve to be confused, a small hum in question as you climb off him.

“Where you going?” he asks.

“I’m going to pee,” you reply. “To be safe.”

“Oh. Okay, pee on.”

“Sorry,” you say. Leaning up to kiss his lips, Jeongguk smiles into it and all the while as you move to hurry towards the bathroom. The sound of the toilet seat being lifted, and a slight squeak from the toilet that Yoongi desperately needs to consider replacing, and then Jeongguk settles down onto the bed with a happy sigh. His chest rises and falls as the party goes on outside, fireworks behind the Eiffel Tower.

He could get used to this.

Something wakes you up with the sunrise, twisting into soft orange colours that stretch across the agriculture of Paris. It barely lights up the city, enough for shadows to still be drawn across the mocha coloured buildings, the stone still cold in the shade. You wriggle inside the sheets slightly, discomfort between your legs and very slowly, your eyes adjust to the slight light brewing in the bedroom.

The patio doors leading out onto the small balcony are drawn open, the see-through curtains swaying like slow hips in the wind. Beside you, the bed is cold, untucked and open where Jeongguk has climbed out. Mentioning Jeongguk, you notice that he sits on the end of the bed, facing the sunrise and the Eiffel Tower with a notebook in his hand. The pages are folded over the spine, bulking it up, and he taps a pen against his ear quietly. The sound is all you can hear alongside the early-rising birds, a car honk outside and the next door neighbours hanging out of their window with chocolate bread and strong coffee.

“Mmm. Guk?”

Your voice is slightly hoarse, bedirdden, and Jeongguk manages to hear it as he turns his head over his shoulder. A smile dawns on his face and he shifts, one hand on the bed and the book closing shut on its own. “Hey, baby. Sorry, did I wake you up?”

You yawn, rubbing your eyes. Some mascara rubs off onto your hand. “No, you’re okay.” He doesn’t say anything at first, there’s no competition for the next word. When your vision finally settles onto a visible image, you see Jeongguk’s face and the book in his lap. “What are you doing…? Wait, what time is it…”

“It’s about five thirty,” Jeongguk estimates, although he’s not sure. He’s actually not far off, it’s five fourty one. “And, um...not much.” For a moment, Jeongguk sounds bashful. He shrugs, hiding the book and smiling at you. “You can go back to sleep if you want. I’ll be quiet.”

“Kinda hungry,” you admit. You inhale the air, “Oh my God, those fuckers next door have coffee.”

“Chocolate bread, too. Caught a glimpse when I opened the doors.”

You groan. “What the fuck…”

Jeongguk laughs, genuinely. His head turns back towards the Eiffel Tower, in awe, and after a few minutes of nothing but morning silence, you sigh and clamber over the sheets. They’re cold, crisp and wrinkled, and Jeongguk looks up at the noise. He frowns, only because you’re wearing barely anything.

“You’re gonna get cold,” Jeongguk points out, his hands reaching for the bed throw that had been kicked onto the floor during the night. “Want me to close the window?”

“No, it’s pretty.”

“It’s cold, though.”

You push your face onto Jeongguk’s shoulder blade. “Whatever.”

He chuckles, resigning from the conversation. You’ll win anyway. A tiny bird lands on the patio rails, and you inhale the morning air, planting a kiss on Jeongguk’s shoulder.

“You sure you’re okay?”

This makes Jeongguk look up. His eyes wear confusion and adoration, round and searching as he looks over his shoulder. “Yeah. Why, why wouldn’t they be?”

“I worry about you, ‘s all,” you reply quietly. “All the time.”

Jeongguk’s heart breaks.

“I’m...I’m good,” he replies honestly. “Really good. I haven’t been doing this great in...well...I don’t know, forever? Call it cringey, or whatever, but having you in my life...Fuck, it’s changed everything.”

You gaze up at him. “You’ve made a pretty big difference in my life, too, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“And I’m here for you. Always.”

Jeongguk doesn’t miss a beat- his hand wraps to stroke your hair, curled from the shower earlier, pressing a little kiss to your nose. He nods, and his hair brushes against your face. “Yeah.” He nods, confident, “Yeah. Actually- LOL,” he laughs, “I. Um, I wrote something.”

“Oh? Yeah, what did you write?”

He reopens the book. The pages are littered with lines of writing, alongside small doodles in the margins, words like arrows shooting across the lines. His hands flip to a page that has the corner marked down, the numbers “23” in bold outline at the top of the page. You inhale, nervous, your eyes lazily looking at the lines.

“Just a song,” Jeongguk explains. “Woke up, looked over at you, just got the idea. I had to write it down as soon as I thought about it. Got the melody and stuff worked out, just need to make a note and tell the guys when I get back.”

You hum, genuinely enthralled. You quickly look at him, “Can I hear some?”

If it were light enough, you might have caught a blush across his face. He clears his throat, shy.

“I’m fadin’ away off some kind of drug, maybe it’s lust, maybe it’s love,” his voice is quiet, almost as if speaking the words is something wrong, “I know I said I’d straighten a week ago, I feelin’ though, bout to reach my peak, you know. This city’s got me fallin, now, I’m fading away, I’m losing my head…” He mutters the lyrics, singing quietly. As he skims over what he’s got scribbled down, you can feel your heart thudding, soaring, feeling numb and soft and warm and everything else.

“It’s about you, called 23,” Jeongguk says. At some point, you’ve missed the rest of the lyrics, intent on gazing at Jeongguk like he is God’s angel sent down from Heaven. He is so beautiful, so kind and pure. “Sound okay?”

You nod, and maybe Jeongguk sees tears pearling in your eyes. “Yeah. Fuck- it sounds beautiful, Guk.”

A smile immediately reaches across Jeongguk’s face. It lights up the room better than the sun, now reaching higher into the sky. “You’re beautiful. I wanna make you so happy.”

“You do make me happy.”

“Yeah?” he asks, laughing, his eyes turned into moons. “Well...Look. I’ve never had to ask anyone, so it’s awkward as fuck right now, but...like…” He laughs, and you do too, because you know it’s coming, “Do you, like...wanna be my girl?”

“Your girl?”

He laughs louder. “Fine - my girlfriend! Y/N L/N, the light of my small and sad life, will you please be my girlfriend?”

Once your laughter has calmed down, and Jeongguk’s hand tiredly slips from your hair down to the bed next to your own, you really, honestly look at Jeongguk. Above everything else, you can’t quite believe that you are here with him; with somebody you never thought you had a chance with, with somebody who you would do absolutely anything for. The way you presently feel about Jeongguk is overwhelming and dangerous, so strong that sometimes you feel afraid by it. You bite your bottom lip, amusing the idea of actually thinking about it, and then you nod.

“Sure. Of course,” you agree, kissing his shoulder. His head follows you, his breath on the bare skin of your shoulders as he ducks his head to kiss the side of yours. “You’ve got me.”

Jeongguk feels like he could quite honestly burst into tears. “I’ve got you.”

(“I’m not 23 though,” you say to him once the love has died down. He cracks a smile and pushes you back onto the bed, returning to look at the Eiffel Tower.)

part two (final)

#pHEW #yoonkooknetwork #ggukienet #jeon jungkook #bts #bangtan #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jjk #jeon jeongguk #jeongguk smut #jeongguk x reader #bts smut #bts imagine #bangtan imagine #bts scenario #jeongguk scenario #jungkook scenario #jungkook series #bts series #rockstar bts #jungkook #jeongguk #bighit #bts au #rockstar jeongguk #rockstar jungkook #gwoongi #tw: alcohol

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Idk about the singer but we all know Cal loves some stupid memes, so what if it's just like stupid Twitter replied between Cal and her because they know even with time zones it's fun to wake up to stupid memes

Thanks for the suggestion! I’m combining this one with another one:

hi i love ur writing sm ! could u do a blurb where y/n has been getting a lot of hate from the fans and calum comforts her and stands up for her ?

Hope you enjoy!

Here’s part one, two, three, and four. This is the Distance series on my masterlist!

If you have any suggestions for this series, please send them my way! I’ll use as many as I can while still progressing the universe along as well!

__________________________

It’s really hard to say goodbye. Who else is gonna play with his hair and who else is gonna beg him to be lazy and watch movies all day and they don’t even even watch movies and wind up laying next to his pool to gaze up at the sun and talk about the universe. And who’s going to sit with him at too damn early in the morning snacking on ice cream that they were supposed to be saving for tomorrow but it’s tomorrow anyways, so why not have it?

“I’m gonna flood you with stupid memes,” she promises, sunglasses pushed up into her hair and gazing up into the not fully dawned morning sun that casts about Calum. The airport’s not as easy as when she first arrived, but there’s still the distinct hum of wheels rolling over concrete and the sound of planes breaking the barrier between sky and earth. 

“If you don’t, I’ll be sad,” he punctuates the sentence by rolling out his bottom lip. 

She gently reaches up to tap the end of his nose. “None of that. No sadness. Only memes.”

Calum laughs, but nods. “Only memes.” Their hug is long, inhaling again the scent of his almost faded cologne and Gain laundry detergent. And Calum can catch the citrus of her body wash amongst the hearty layer of his own detergent. But it smells so right on her. In the embrace, Calum wants to tell her she will be missed, that it’s going to suck not waking up to her morning face, all pinched up and eyes barely opened. “Let me know when the plane lands and when you make it home. So I know you’re safe,” he whispers instead. 

“Of course.” It’s on her lips, the I miss you, but she holds it between her lips and behind her teeth. She holds onto that because she doesn’t want to burden Calum. Her fingers trail up his back and into the nape of the not fully brunette and just barely blonde strands. She knows her fingers are gonna miss this. 

True to her word, when she makes it back home with her dog in toe, she lets Calum know that she’s safe. And not even a couple hours later, right before bed for her, Calum sees that she’s tweeted at him. It’s a 5SOS meme and Calum chuckles, before responding with his own. 

The thread expands every day, more and more of their replies are just memes with no context, memes that they know the other person will get, memes in tweets and threads that aren’t even related to the original thread. And God, it makes Calum miss her laughing in his ears even more. He pictures her on his couch and her curled up next to Duke, but giving him his space. 

While she loves sending the memes, she almost dreads opening up Twitter. Most people are nice, but some of just nasty. They attack her for everything and nothing all at once. She’s sure she can’t even breathe right if they could have input on that. It’s just starting to add up, people telling her she’s using Calum for clout as her debut album is gearing up to release. No matter what she does, if she explains that Calum and her are genuine friends or ignores the hate, it just keeps flooding in, keeps piling on. 

Calum sends a meme and the lack of a response in the day is concerning but not enough. But as the days pass, and they’ve slowed on the video calls just between his work starting in the studio and hers that’s been underway for a while, Calum knows something is up. So he tries to contact her, Call me when you get the chance. Need to see your pretty face. 

Her reply is a simple, Okay. As the day starts to wind down for Calum, with no call form her, he knows it’s got to be right at the crack of dawn to her, but he has to figure out what’s going on. She answers the call after the first couple of rings. Her eyes are puffy. 

“What happened baby?” Calum asks. His body is immediately flooded with concern and he’s almost tempted to get on a flight right now. 

She explains everything, all the tweets that are basically calling her an attention whore and a clout chaser and it’s just all becoming too much to handle. Calum asks what he can do, what they need to do to make things easier for her. At first, she just rants about how unfair it is and because it’s really just because she really likes Calum and his company and she wants to make this a thing but there’s distance and she does not ever want to be seen as using Calum’s fame in her favor. 

Calum just listens and he can tell by the bags under her eyes that she hasn’t slept a wink. So he encourages just to rest and thankfully, she doesn’t have anything important to do. So once the call ends, they agree maybe they interact a little less on social media on their professional accounts, most of the social media interactions were on their private accounts, just so it was more protected. But every so often, she posted about a care package, or about the bands achievements and Calum posted about her second single, to help promote it of course, but also because he really did love the music she was making and the stories she had to share. But if it helps ease some of the anxiety to do that less publicly, Calum has no issue dialing that back. 

But then he can’t sleep that night. It eats away at him that people would be so nasty towards her and he wishes he could do more than just console through a screen, but he knows he’ll do what he can--no matter what it is. Please know your words have weight. Whatever you say can seriously affect the person on the other side of the screen. Be kind, choose words carefully. 

He truly wants to say more, he wants to use her name but he doesn’t want to add more fuel to the fire, doesn’t want to go against his word that he gave her. So he settles for that and though, sleep comes in waves, he tries to find peace in knowing he’s doing the right thing. 

When she wakes, she doesn’t bother with social media, finishes up her evening, gets ready for bed. She sees the text from Calum and attached is a video of Duke walking around in a Christmas sweater. Because I know you love Duke and Christmas. Keep your chin up, buttercup. It’s all gonna be okay.

Thank you, Calum. It means a lot. She waits, fingers toying on the idea of saying more. There will always be more to say, like it really does make her feel heard and listened too and respected, and she misses him. God, she misses him. 

-H

#calum hood #calum hood fluff #calum hood imagine #calum hood blurb #calum hood x famous singer #h writes #distance series #5sos #calum 5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5sos imagine #5sos blurb #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer blurb #asks #answered #michael clifford #luke hemmings #ashton irwin

[tomhollandwritings]

single ~ t.h.

synopsis: the reader and tom have a complicated history, but no matter what happens they always seem to find their way back to one another. 

word count: 2.4k+

based on the request: tom holland one with the song single by the neighbourhood?? like where ur younger than him? 💞💞 i love ur writings so much!!

a/n: i literally had a full draft for this and then started again from scratch bc i was so unsatisfied w it. im actually still so unsatisfied w this one too, it’s kind of jumbled and all over the place but i hope you enjoy anyways. (oh btw i fucking LOVE THIS SONG and i love the nbhd, literally my fav band so thank u sm for requesting xoxox)

listen to the song here if you’d like!

masterlist

The hustle and bustle your cozy house party had created around you left a warm feeling of contentedness and accomplishment in the bottom of your stomach. It had been your friend Sara’s idea to throw a small party on the quiet Friday night, using the celebration of the first day of spring as her excuse. After prodding at you all week, you had finally agreed to let her use your small London apartment as her hosting place. Despite the fact that you were itching with annoyance because of the amount of people that had shown up was extremely far off from your friend’s estimate of guests. The place was full, not so much that it was stuffy, but people were still slipping in the door every few minutes with a bottle of wine or flowers to signify spring’s soft beginnings.

“You will never believe who just walked in.” Sara’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts as she came walking into the kitchen and you looked up, still swirling your wine around in the glass absentmindedly. You look at her expectantly, eyebrows raised. The answer she gave was something you had never expected. “Tom Holland.” She exclaimed. Her voice was hushed, as though she didn't want him to hear her, as she put down yet another cheap bottle of chardonnay onto your counter.

It almost felt as your heart had stopped for a moment as you processed her words. You’d known Tom for a while, and the two of you had a somewhat tumultuous past. To explain your history to anyone felt pointless, so everyone in your life had no one idea that the two of you had ever been involved. Your history was so complex that you didn’t have the energy to explain why you knew the Spiderman superstar.

Your immediate reaction was anger, the knowledge that Tom had shown up at your small apartment knowing full well what the consequences of that action were.

“Tom Holland… like the Spiderman guy?” You asked, trying your best to play dumb.

“Yes,” Sara whacked you in the arm lightly. “he’s so good looking.”

You nodded slightly, taking another gulp of your wine.

“You should go say hi.” She hinted at you, pouring herself another drink.

“What for?” You scoffed, failing miserably to hide your disdain.

“Because you’re the hostess.” Sara scolded. “Don’t be rude.”

You sighed loudly before downing the rest of your wine.

“Fine.”

-

You stepped into the crowded living room to see what appeared to be a sort of mob forming near your front door. Stretching up onto your tiptoes, you still could barely make out the familiar face of the boy, despite even wearing heels. You began to push your way through the crowd, huffing quietly before clearing your throat and doing your best to play nice hostess.

“Hi,” you said cheerily, just sweet enough to sound real but fake enough to know you were pissed. “welcome, it’s so nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.”

Tom looked over at you in surprise, his eyes widening as he shamelessly scanned your body.

“Y/N,” he said. “hi.”

The crowd around Tom began to disperse and you reached out as if to shake his hand. He grabbed onto yours gently and you dragged him out of your apartment and into the hallway in one swift movement before shutting the door gently behind you.

“Y/N…”

“What the fuck, Tom,” You interrupted harshly, pulling your hand away from his. “are you fucking serious right now?”

“I had to see you.” He admits, wincing at your anger.

“What for?” You asked incredulously.

“You know what.” He replies, his demeanour softening.

“I’m having a party.” Was all you said as you took in his soft expression, trying to push down the feelings that were bubbling back up inside of you. 

He was wearing dark jeans and a white t-shirt with a blazer over it, his signature silver necklaces hanging down over his shirt. His hair looked disheveled, different from the slicked back style you’d grown used to since he’d been away on a press tour. You could feel his scent lingering around you and the familiarity was enough to make you cry.

“I know, but…”

“You left.” You said. “You left me. You have no right to just show up at my apartment.”

“I know.” He repeated. “I’m sorry.”

I don't know if we should be alone together

I still got a crush, that's obvious

If nobody's around, what's stopping us?

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes momentarily to drink in his presence. You weren’t sure if there was even a need for Tom to apologize at all, or if you should apologize. All you really knew was that you missed him. You had missed him so much it was unbearable. You opened your eyes again, now stinging with tears.

“I have to get back inside.” You said quietly.

“Y/N,” he murmured, reaching out to run his warm fingers down your arm.

“Tom, thank you for the apology but…” He watched you with sad eyes. “I have to go inside, okay? Can we talk about this later?”

Tom’s expression relaxed slightly at your hopeful words, nodding eagerly.

“Sure. Okay.”

You nodded again, squeezing his arm quickly before turning around and slipping back into your apartment, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

Despite the drama the party continued, and people loved Tom. He was sitting on the arm of your couch, a glass of whiskey in one hand and people surrounding him as he told silly stories about things that had happened to him on his press tour, during filming, in his daily life.

You did your best to ignore the fact that he was there, making yourself busy by speaking with a few friends at the entrance to your kitchen. You could feel Tom’s eyes on you occasionally as you spoke with your friends, and it took everything in you not to glance back over at him.

I don't think that we should be around each other

When you're in the room, you get my eyes

You open your mouth, I'm hypnotized

Tom couldn’t push your voice out of the corner of his mind, despite all the people surrounding him and speaking. He kept glancing over at you, nodding occasionally to keep your guests engaged as he watched you talk.

You threw your head back laughing, a glass of what he assumed was your favourite red wine in your left hand. His heart ached at the familiar sound, remembering when he used to make you laugh like that. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from you. To say you looked beautiful was an understatement. Your outfit was so simple, a white t-shirt tucked lazily into a jean skirt that he recognized as one he had bought you the year before. You had a loose cardigan draped over your body and were wearing tights and a pair of adorable little kitten heels that made him smile. 

He could still hear the voices speaking around him and he was suddenly wildly aware of the condensation from his drink stinging his palm with its coldness as he held onto it tighter, returning himself to his conversation. 

-

Despite your somewhat distracting job of hosting a growing house party, you were physically unable to get Tom out of the corner of your eye. No matter where in the room you moved, you always felt the need to keep him in your sight and keep his voice in your range of hearing. You could hear girls laughing around him at minuscule things he said, most not even jokes, and smiled to yourself at Tom’s probable distaste towards their desperation. 

You glanced up at him to find his eyes already burning into you, and your chest sizzled with excitement. He threw you a small wink, using his amazing way of making you feel like the only person he cared to see in the entire world to his advantage. 

You felt as though you were staring at him with literal hearts popping out of your eyes and twirling around your head like a cartoon. Tom was picking up on this, a small smile gracing his handsome face as he stared at you. 

You blinked, feeling your face flush as you realized how silly you must look. He chuckled softly to himself, causing you to smile against your will, looking down into your wine glass. Tom felt himself puff up unintentionally, proud of himself for getting a smile out of you for what felt like the first time in years.

  I can make you laugh until you cry

You know you got all my attention

You know you got all mine

By the time 1 o’clock rolled around, people were slowly but surely filing their way out of your place and leaving half full glasses of liquor in different places around your apartment. 

Even Sara had left, and you began to collect the endless amount of garbage and paper plates with half eaten grapes and cheese slices on them while stifling a yawn. 

“Need some help?” His familiar voice rang out as he came following you through the hallway, picking up pieces of trash and empty glasses that you had missed along the way. You felt unbelievably excited that he had stayed, having expected him to leave a few hours before. 

As you threw your collection into the garbage in the kitchen, Tom came in the doorway holding an impressive amount of glasses.

 “Jesus, Tom,” You let out a small laugh, walking over to take a few of the fragile glasses out of his hands. Your fingers brushed and his fingertips lingered on yours as his eyes scanned your face. “impressive.” You added softly. 

“I’ve always been good with my hands,” he said cheekily. “you knew that.” 

You looked over at him with wide eyes, feeling your face on fire. “Tom!” You hissed, a smirk painted on his face. 

“Sorry,” he laughed. “you walked into that one.” 

You sighed in defeat, carefully putting the glasses down in the sink to be dealt with later before turning around to face him and leaning against the counter, arms crossed. 

“Y/N…” He started softly. 

At some point during the night he had slipped his blazer off and his lean arms were sun kissed, muscles seeming to bulge every time he moved. You were watching him, almost drooling. “I was going to…” He looked up and saw your face, mouth slightly open. “Are you okay?”

“What? Yeah, of course.” You respond quickly, swallowing hard. He steps closer to you, watching you with curiosity. 

“Are you sure?” He didn’t believe you. You nod fervently again, wishing your cheeks and chest weren't burning so obviously. 

Tom reached out slowly and you watch him, breathing hard. He pressed his cool fingers against your warm cheek and you relished in the feeling of it. 

“I’ve missed you.” You murmur. “So much, Tom.”

“I’ve missed you so much more.” He says, stroking your hot cheek with his thumb tenderly. You were breathing hard, hot air catching in your throat as Tom watched you. 

“What were you going to say?” You asked quietly. 

“I was just going to say how sorry I am.” He replies, his voice barely above a whisper. You found yourself subconsciously pressing your cheek into his palm. “I know I shouldn’t have left things the way I did, I just… I didn’t know what else to do.” 

“I know.” You said quietly. 

As you looked at the boy in front of you, the one you’d been so infatuated with for so long, it was as though everything was forgiven, as if nothing had happened at all. 

All you could think, all you could bring yourself to think was that you felt so happy that he was in front of you again and you never wanted him to go. 

Before you could help yourself you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close to you forcefully, clinging to him. Tom responded immediately, his arms enveloping you tightly and large hands running slowly down your back. 

"Baby," I can't help but call her that

Even though I shouldn't say it

She was my baby girlI might never get her back

But I don't mind being patient, yeah

“Baby,” he whispered, lips moving against the skin of your neck where his face was pressed. The warmth of the familiar nickname mixed with his whiskey-tinted breath mingled deliciously on your skin. 

“Yes?” You delicately traced the growing hairs along the nap of his neck, twirling them between your fingers. 

“I’d wait forever for you.” He breathed. You felt your heart swell. 

“You don’t have to wait at all.” Your voice was hushed now, heavy with the threat of tears. 

You could feel the problems you shared melting away, pooling at your feet. His hot tears burned on your neck, singeing your skin, and you pulled him impossibly closer to you. 

“M’in love with you.” Tom mumbled, sniffling before he pulled back slightly to look at you. 

The heat from your cheeks seem to have transferred to his, his face now dotted with redness and streaked with tears. You reached up with both hands to wipe the tears away gently with your thumbs. 

“I’m so in love with you.” You said finally as his eyes scanned your face desperately. They were twinkling, and a grin was growing on his face as he ran his hands down to your hips, squeezing them. He leaned in, giving you the gentlest and most intimate kiss you’d ever had, and it made it feel as though your whole body was on fire. 

“You have no idea,” he murmured in between soft and fervent kisses pressed to your lips, “I’ve waited to hear you say that to me.” 

His hands were tangled in your hair and you giggled softly against his lips, running your hands down his torso, feeling his lean figure as he pushed closer to you.

He kissed you once more and you let out a soft noise of disappointment as he pulled away, pressing his hands against the counter on either side of you.

“We have to finish cleaning the kitchen, remember?” He teased quietly, pinching the skin of your waist gently. You squealed and grabbed his hand tightly. 

“Quit it,” you said softly, his touch causing you to shiver. He laughed softly. “Besides,” you said as he ran his hands around to the small of your back, pulling you against him and kissing you again as you began walking him backwards towards your bedroom. “the kitchen can wait.” 

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fan fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x oc #tom holland gif #tom holland interview #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker fan fic #peter parker gif #tom holland smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker x oc #peter parker smut #marvel #marvel imagine #mcu #marvel men #tom holland meme #marvel meme #avengers #avengers infinity war #avengers: iw #avengers: infinity war #a:iw #spiderman #spiderman hoco #spiderman: homecoming #song req

[singingunderthecurtain]

Baby, You Deserve A Song [III]

Photo not mine, found it on google.

Author: @julietsoddeye AU: Cannon Genre: (this ch) Fluff | Smut | Angst Pairing: (this ch) Kris Wu x OC Trigger Warning: Some swearing, Angst, Smut and jokes. Word Count: 3,673

MINI MASTERLIST

Plot: Kris finally realizes who he belongs to.

Last installment to The Eve.

Yanmei waves both her arms that were balancing a few plastic bags of snacks and dinner she bought for the two of them to share tonight.

“H—how long have you been there?”

Kris immediately stood up to greet Yanmei.

“Long enough. You didn’t even hear me enter the room.”

She rolls her eyes as she gently drops the bags on a table.

“I’m sorry I was spaced out.”

Kris said as he slides where she is and wraps his arms around her waist from behind. Yanmei immediately giggle when she felt Kris’ chin tickle her shoulder.

“What were you thinking about?”

Yanmei asks.

“Nothing important.”

“We’re still friends, Yifan. Nothing will change that, not even my relationship with Chanyeol.”

Hisako’s words still ring inside Kris’ head until now. It has only been 5 days since she and Chanyeol got together and that was the start of Kris’ demise. He knows she means what she said, but the mere fact that he’s far away from her is what scares him the most ever since. He wished he didn’t have invited Chanyeol that night. He wished he didn’t leave her alone with him. It was his fault why she slipped right through his own fingertips, straight to Chanyeol’s arms. Why does he have to be a nice guy, why didn’t he fight for Hisako to stay with him?

But how can he compete with him? How can he compete with 7 years of friendship? He met her through Chanyeol and only hang out with her once or twice in the past before he completely fled the group. They met again 3 years later and been in a weird courtship ever since. How can 2 years of strange on and off again relationship compete with 7 years of consistent sodality? And right off the bat, he knew that she was already taken by him, even though they were only friends. Kris knows she loves Chanyeol, more than she ever loved him or anyone for that matter.

“What are you thinking about?”

Yanmei, the girl in his arms, said as she traces shapes onto the skin of his chest.

“You.”

Kris lied convincingly, making Yanmei smile wide.

“What about me?”

She asks.

“That you’re hot and awesome in bed.”

It wasn’t a lie, not at all. But what’s really on his mind was the first woman he sincerely loved. Probably the only woman he will ever truly love.

“You keep saying that every time after sex, like a robot.”

She props herself up from Kris’ shoulder with a slight pout on her lips.

“It’s because it’s true.”

Kris replied with a nonchalant tone in his voice.

“Why am I even complaining? I’m just one of your many side chicks, anyway.”

She shrugs her shoulders once and stood up from Kris’ hotel bed to clean up inside the bathroom.

“What are you doing?”

“Going home. I suddenly have work in the morning, I don't know.”

Yanmei said in a dispassionate manner while wiggling off Kris’ cling.

“I thought you took a few days off because of me? I’m sorry, please don’t go.”

Kris tugs Yanmei back and she fell right on top of him. She felt him getting hard yet again under her skin and she couldn't get enough of the handsome tall guy below him. She thought, how can Hisako let go of this man? But then again she’s with another handsome and tall guy now, Chanyeol. Yanmei knows their history together. And she knows she’s been in love with Chanyeol ever since they became best friends.

Kris inserted himself inside of her once again that night. She hums out a satisfied moan as she slides down his length.

“So how are you lately?”

He asks as Yanmei rides him.

“Good, I guess.”

She responded quite casually as if they’re not doing sexual acts presently.

“How’s work?”

“Good, but it’s kinda, ugh I don’t know... Because I always see two of my ex-boyfriends every single day.”

Yanmei rolls her eyes thinking about Suho and Chen.

“How’s Junmyeon and Jongdae?”

“Realy? You’re asking me that right now?”

“Well, you started it.”

Kris giggled as he thumbs Yanmei’s clit hastily, making her pace speed up.

“Fuck… Can we not talk about them? Let’s just fuck in silence, okay?”

“Whatever you say, babe.”

~~~

“Hi, you reached Amano Hisako’s landline! I’m not home right…”

There was a pause and a door opened.

“What are you doing?”

He heard the familiar voice of his ex-bandmate.

“Shut up Chany— Anyway, I’m not home but you can leave a message after the beep. BYE!!!”

BEEP~

“Oh, she finally changed her voicemail message.”

It’s already 9 PM she should be home by now, Kris thought to himself. Since Yanmei still works at SM, her schedule is unpredictable. Unlike Hisako, who works a 9 to 5 schedule. And sometimes she even has a full grasp of her own time being the Fashion Editor of one of the top-selling Fashion Magazines of her dreams.

Since she didn’t pick up her landline, Kris opted to text her instead. She’s probably busy doing something for work, he thought.

Me: Hisa I called ur house, but u dint answer. I’m in town let’s hang! (seen 21:10)

Hisa❤: Oh no. I’m not home right now… (seen 21:10)

Me: Where are you? Me: Can I come see u? (seen 21:11)

Hisa❤: If you could fly out to Sydney in an hour, then sure. 😆 (seen: 21:11)

Me: Sydney... Australia??? (seen 21:12)

Hisa❤: Yaaaas! (seen 21:12)

Me: What u doin there? (seen 21:12)

Hisa❤: I’m here 4 KCON. Hisa❤: I went wit uhm.. Hisa❤: w exo… Hisa❤: We just got back from dinner. (seen 21:13)

Me: Oh… Me: … (seen 21:14)

Hisa❤: Mei-mei gave up her spot for me, didn’t she tell u? Hisa❤: She told me something came up n she can’t go. Hisa❤: So Channie told me 2 come instead. :D ❤ Hisa❤: I guess ur what came up, huh? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) (seen 21:15)

Me: 😜😜😜 (seen 21:15)

Hisa❤: What brings you to Seoul? (seen 21:28)

He couldn’t reply anymore. How could he when he lost all good mood he had a while ago. How could she ask what brings him to Seoul when she knew that the only reason he goes back to that God Forsaken country is that of her. She’s the only one who can make him forget the bad things that happened to him. Hisako is his rock.

He wanted to go home to Guangzhou right then and there. He wanted to lock himself in, away from the world for a few days and only come out when he’s ready. Only a day more and you’ll be home, he told himself.

“Yifan… Earth to Yifan!!!”

Yanmei waves both her arms that were balancing a few plastic bags of snacks and dinner she bought for the two of them to share tonight.

“H—how long have you been there?”

Kris immediately stood up to greet Yanmei.

“Long enough. You didn’t even hear me enter the room.”

She rolls her eyes as she gently drops the bags on a table.

“I’m sorry I was spaced out.”

Kris said as he slides where she is and wraps his arms around her waist from behind. Yanmei immediately giggle when she felt Kris’ chin tickle her shoulder.

“What were you thinking about?”

Yanmei asks.

“Nothing important.”

He assures her and she took it. She always does even though she knows there are only a couple of things that are constantly in her lover’s mind, It’s either his music or Hisako. She sighs as she sets aside her insecurities about Kris’ ex, she hovers her hands over his forearms that was snaked around her and give it a loving caress.

Kris buries his face in her hair that gave him another round of giggles from her. He loves it when Yanmei reacts like that to his physical affections, even how small and simple they are.

“Are you okay, Yifan? Is something worrying you?”

“Why do you ask that?”

“You’re extra clingy today.”

Yanmei continues to caress Kris’ arms as they both sway lightly as if there is soft music playing in the background.

“Nothing is bothering me, babe. You’re here with me, so I’m happy.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie, but thoughts of Hisako with Chanyeol is definitely bothering him.

“Are you sure?”

She speaks softly, careful not to annoy him with her concerns.

“Of course, let’s eat and then cuddle in bed after, yeah?”

Kris immediately deviates the topic and removes his hold on her to check on the food she brought him. The loss of his arms made Yanmei frown a minuscule second.

“Okay.”

She replies with a tiny smile as Kris rips open the lid of the food he requested for.

“So how’s your mom Mei-mei?”

Kris asks as he took a bite of food in his mouth, Yanmei wiping the sauce on the side of his mouth with her thumb and casually lick the sauce off her finger.

“We talked on the phone briefly, but she was so loopy with meds so I have to end the call. Dad said she’s been a little bit better from when I was there 2 weeks ago.”

She happily reports the updates of her mother’s condition as if Kris has already met them. She wanted him to meet her family, but they are not on that kind of term yet.

“That’s great news. We have to visit her when we’re not busy.”

His lips gave out an empty promise and she knows it’ll never happen, so she just hums a response.

“I heard you didn’t go to Australia so Hisako can?”

“What? Who told you that?”

“Hisako told me she’s in Sydney or KCON.”

“I didn’t join just so she can go. I didn’t go to Sydney because I wanna be with you here. I wasn’t even needed there, but I chose you over extra pay.”

Kris continues to eat his food nonchalantly as if he didn’t just hear what she said.

“Ah, I see. So how were Hisa and Yeollie?

That’s it, Yanmei can’t deal with this bullshit anymore.

“I don’t know, Yifan. Why don’t you ask them? They are our common friends after all.”

“What’s with your tone all of a sudden?”

Kris asks her as if she did something so heinous.

“What’s wrong with my tone?”

“Are you angry?”

“Oh no, I’m not angry, Yifan. I’m mad!”

Yanmei stood up from her seat and attempted to grab her purse.

“What are you doing?!”

“You always do that, Yifan! ALWAYS! And I’m done.”

“Always do what, Yanmei?”

“Talk about Hisako as if it doesn’t bother me. Haven’t you realize that I know everything? I know your history, I know everything that happened between you. Because I was the one she rants it about, I’m the only one who knows about you two.”

“I— I didn’t know.”

“When you went for me and we hooked up, I wasn’t even planning on seeing you again because I know your feelings for her. But you keep on calling me and I guess I’m a weak woman, I felt sorry that you’re hurting this way and I know I shouldn’t have to keep on being with you out of pity but eventually, I developed a fondness for you, Yifan. Behind the insecure man you always show her, behind your apprehensiveness towards her I saw a good man who is equally as good a lover.”

Yanmei stops for a few seconds to take a long breath to continue.

“I stopped meeting with the two guys I was casually dating just so I can focus and give my whole self to you, Yifan. Because I know Hisako can’t do that for you anymore. I changed my ways just for you. I know she’s still your friend and I’m not stopping you from hanging out with her or anything. All I wanted was your complete attention when we’re together. But I’m so tired right now, Yifan. I’m tired of slaving myself to SM, I’m tired of constantly thinking about my dying mother. And I’m tired of being your second. Hell, I may even just be your fucking Fifth for all I know!”

Yanmei grabs her purse and drifts her way heavily to the door.

“If you’re not ready to give yourself to me yet, don’t call me. But I'll be there for you when you finally need me for things other than sex.”

And just like that, Kris’ hotel door slams shut leaving him with his thoughts in the cold and silent room.

~~~

“Yifan…”

Her velvety voice flows smoothly around him. Surrounding him with love and comfort as she writhes and moans beautifully beneath him. Her arms clinging strongly to his and her parted lips touching his ears slightly, her breath ghosting his skin making him tingle in the best way possible.

“Say my name, Hisako. Say my name.”

“Yifan… Yifan Don’t stop. Make it last forever.”

She said the last part breathy and weak.

“I love making love to you Yian, make it last forever.”

“Yifan…”

“Y—Yifan…”

“What is happening?”

“Yifan, I’m done!”

“You always do that, Yifan! ALWAYS! And I’m done.”

He looked behind him and there she was,

Yanmei.

Her purse dragging on the floor.

Opening the door.

Her face tear-stained, full of hurt.

“I developed a fondness for you, Yifan. Behind the insecure man you always show her, behind your apprehensiveness towards her I saw a good man who is equally as good a lover.”

“Yanmei?”

Kris calls out for her as he detaches himself from Hisako.

“Yifan?”

Hisako cries out.

“If you’re not ready to give yourself to me yet, don’t call me. But I'll be there for you when you finally need me for things other than sex.”

Before he can even reach for Yanmei, the door already slammed shut in his face.

“FUCK!”

Kris jolts awake, cold sweat dripping slowly down the side of his face.

It was only a dream.

A weird dream.

~~~

“Hey, did anything happened between you and Mei-mei? Channie told me she’s been spacing out a lot recently. Even Jongdae who doesn’t want to do anything with her anymore grew concerned..”

“Did you just call me to ask that?”

“Yes.”

Hisako answers truthfully.

“Nothing happened, Hisa.”

“You’re lying Yifan.”

“Okay, we kind of argued a little bit. More like she blew up on me. Totally uncalled for.”

Kris whines like a child over the phone.

“I know Yanmei. She won’t ‘blew up’ on you unless you did something really bad. What did you do to her?”

Kris can hear the disappointment in Hisako’s voice. Hisako and Yanmei have been friends for a lot longer than with him and even Chanyeol. Of course, she will take her side.

“Well to be honest… We argued about you.”

“A—about me? Why?”

Hisako was taken aback about what Kris just asserted.

“You know the reason already.”

Hisako definitely knows already, he doesn’t even need to verbalize anymore.

“Look Yifan I’m telling you this. You need to move on. I’m sorry if I’m being so blunt right now, but you need it. You really need to hear it and you really need Yanmei, she’s… Fucking hell Yifan, I think she’s in love with you already.”

The words Yanmei said to him a month ago started ringing inside his head.

“I know I shouldn’t have to keep on being with you out of pity but eventually, I developed a fondness for you, Yifan.”

“I stopped meeting with the two guys I was casually dating just so I can focus and give my whole self to you, Yifan.”

“All I wanted was your complete attention when we’re together.”

“I need to go Hisa. I’ll call you back soon okay? I’m in the studio trying to write a song.”

“Whatever. Think about it Yifan.”

And before he can even reply, Hisako already cut the line for him.

An hour later of trying to brainstorm for song ideas, inspiration is still not hitting him.

“Man, I’m still so dry right now.”

Kris said as he stretches his arms wide.

“I think you need a break, Kris. How long have you been in the studio?”

The concern on the producer’s face is evident.

“I only went home to take a shower.”

Kris admitted. He’s not only as dry of ideas as he said, he’s also very distracted. Distracted by Hisako’s words and very distracted with thoughts of Yanmei.

“Go home, bro. Sleep, eat and get away from here for now. Take a long break, as long as you want. Go on a vacation or something. Fuck a bitch or two, we don’t have to do this song today if you really can’t.”

Kris weakly laughs at what his friend said.

“I will, thanks. I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

It’s been a week since then and his songwriting drive still hasn’t started. But his dreams and thoughts by now are full of Yanmei. He dreams about the things they have and haven’t done yet. And when he wakes, he smiles knowing it’s her again that he fantasized as he sleeps. But then the guilt of knowing that all she ever experienced when they’re together are shitty feelings eats him up real bad.

“Yanmei?”

“What yanmei? I asked if you’re alright. You’re getting distant again, bro. Stop spacing out!”

“I—I gotta go. I need to do something.”

“Oh, oka—”

Before his producer friend can even finish his reply, Kris is already out the door and speed dialing Yanmei’s number.

“The number you are calling is out of reach, please try again later.”

“Fuck, did she block me or something?”

Kris keeps trying to reach Yanmei a few more times as he frantically push the ground floor button of the building’s elevator and it dawned on him. He ended the call and dialed Hisako’s number instead. And not even two rings she answeres immediately.

“Hisa, this is important. I think Yanmei blocked my number, I can’t reach her. I need to talk to her. Please let me talk to her if you know where she is or if you’re with her. Please.”

“Yifan…”

“Please Hisa… I know now. I finally get it now.”

“YIFAN!”

“Hisako, please. Please let me talk to her. I need to hear Mei-mei’s voice. I need to—”

“YIFAN! Shut up for a few seconds first, dammit! You don’t even let me talk.”

“I’m sorry, I just really need to—”

“SHUT UP! I need to tell you something.”

“O—Okay…”

Kris can hear Hisako inhale a deep breath and he readies himself of what his friend’s about to say. She’ll probably scream ‘I TOLD YOU SO!’ into his ears through the other line.

“Yifan. Listen to me. Yanmei’s mother passed away 2 days ago. And I’m glad you called, just in time because she needs you now more than ever. She’s in Beijing with her family. Please, please go and be with her. She doesn’t want any of us to go with her and I know she’s really not okay right now. She turned off her phone yesterday and we haven’t been able to contact her since.”

Kris knows that Hisako’s already crying on behalf of her friend because of the quiver in her voice.

“I’ll text you her address. Please go. For Yanmei. She needs you.”

“Thank you Hisako, thank you. I will book a flight right now. Thank you so much, Hisa!”

“Call me when you’re with her, okay! Please take care and have a safe flight”

“I will.”

~~~

“I hope this is the right address…”

Kris whispers to himself as he adjusts the strap of his duffel bag. He doesn’t even remember what he packed in there, he was doing it so rashly and he actually left his room a mess. He inhales deeply and exhales just as headily before he presses the doorbell on the side of the red gate. Hopefully, he got the correct house.

~BZZZZZZZT~

The loud buzz of the house bell made his insides do crazy flips. In one sleepy after-sex cuddle session with Yanmei, she mentions that their house bell in China has the loudest sound and it always scares her whenever someone rings it. Kris will never forget that moment because the expression on Yanmei’s face as she tells the story was really funny. She was so serious he can tell she really hates the sound of it.

His patience is taking a toll on his nerves and he decided to push the doorbell again. But before he can even lift his finger up, the sound of hasty footsteps on gravel stones met his ears. The smaller doorway of the gate opens wide to reveal a very disoriented Yanmei. Hair sticking everywhere, eyes half-lidded with restless sleep and body barely covered with a black silk robe.

Kris looks at her entirety and he can tell that she hasn’t been eating lately, maybe even longer as her collarbones are sticking out more than usual. The bags under her eyes drooping and darkened. He immediately drops his duffel bag on the ground and envelopes her in a tight hug.

“Yi—fan?”

It took a few seconds before she realizes who it was in front of her. The irresistible manly scent of Kris that she misses a lot immediately enters her nostrils and made her heavy eyes flutter close.

“Yanmei… Baby, I’m so sorry.”

Kris starts rocking her soothingly, his face buried in the crook of her neck as he inhales her scent. She smells different right now, of floral detergent, but her distinct cinnamon sweetness is still there. Just a tiny hint of it.

“Wha… What are you— Whatr... Whar you... Doing here?”

Her soup-like brain cannot function well and won’t form a straight and coherent sentence.

“I’m here for you babe. I’m so sorry about your mother. I know I told you we’ll visit her right? I’m here. I may be a little too late, but I’m here now.”

Kris pushes Yanmei away only to cup her face with his huge hands.

“How did you… even know where my hou…”

She couldn’t even finish her sentence anymore, her tears just fell voluntarily. She’s overwhelmed yet again with emotions, just like when she first came to see her mother’s lifeless body for the first time.

“Shh, baby everything will be okay. I’m here now.”

“Yifan, please take me to my room. I can’t even stand any longer than this.”

Kris then noticed that Yanmei is actually holding on to dear life onto his jacket. Her legs wobbling like jello. So in one swift move, he grabs and slings his bag securely around his torso, kicked the gate close and scoop Yanmei up in his arms.

Two hours later, Yanmei starts waking up from the first real peaceful nap she took since getting home from Seoul. Kris caresses her hair gently to let her know he’s still beside her.

“Hey, you awake now, beautiful?”

“I—I thought I was just dreaming about you a while ago.”

“I’m here, I’m real baby.”

Kris gleams down at her and Yanmei reciprocates with a weak smile.

“Did— Did…”

Yanmei started.

“What is it?”

“Never mind.”

She sighs, she stretches her limbs as Kris shuffles on the bed a little bit to give her space to move her bones.

“No, tell me… Please.”

“Did Hisako make you come here?”

Yanmei immediately regretted her query because Kris’ bright face faltered.

“No. I couldn’t reach your phone, so I called her and she told me everything. She gave me your address and I came here on my own accord.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I understand your distrust, I totally fucked everything up for you.”

Yanmei’s face turns sour as she sees Kris’ frown.

“I’m sorry I even said that. At least you’re with me, that’s more important for me right now. Thank you, Yifan.”

“You don’t need to thank me, baby. I will drop anything just to be with you again.”

Kris slides his right hand from her shoulder up to her cheek and traces her jaw with gentle strokes. The gesture made Yanmei close her eyes and inhale a huge breath before heaving out a sigh as if saying she’s finally starting to believe that fairytales do come true. And Kris, her knight in shining armor, may not be perfect but at least he’s real and not imaginary.

This is not exactly the kind of story she dreamed of as a little girl, but this is the reality. And this is better than any fairy tale ever written.

“Look at me, Baby.”

Yanmei opens her eyes to Kris’ strong, but loving gaze.

“I need to see your eyes when I tell you this.”

She hums a response, not knowing what to say and just letting Kris do all the talking.

“I love— No, no. I don’t just love you anymore. I’m in love with you Yanmei.”

A tear rolled down from his eye and she watches as it fell to her pillowcase.

“I’ve been blinded by my previous emotions that I didn’t even see all the efforts you exerted just for me.”

He paused to wipe the tears that are already falling from Yanmei’s eyes.

“Thank you for being patient with me and I’m sorry it took me this long to realize you’re there for me without asking for too much. I understand if you don’t want to trust me anymore, but I am willing to do anything just to gain it back.

Yanmei gave Kris a shaky smile and run her fingers through his soft hair.

“I will take you back even if you hurt me time and time again, Yifan.”

“I will never dare to hurt you again babe. You deserve it and so much more.”

Kris grazes Yanmei’s lips with his thumb and gently, tenderly kiss her tears away.

Tell me your thoughts, feedbacks makes me feel alive. :D

#exowritersnet #kpopwritingnet #Kris Wu #kris scenario #kris wu scenario #Park Chanyeol #chanyeol scenario #Angst #Fluff #Smut #kris wu angst #kris wu fluff #kris wu smut #fanfic #fan fic #fanficti #fan fiction #kpop scenario #exo #EXO scenario

[chickenfetus]

all moongan

thank you for asking falen tbh i love u sm and i love doing these 

omg is this ask for this ask meme i literally almost posted this along with the wrong ask fml

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?

more cereal than mik because.. i dont eat cereal with milk……… i love the crunch

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?

as someone who lives in a tropical country is that what its called idk we dont have seasons and it never gets lower than 25 degrees so yes that would be ideal

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books?

hrmmmmm… i just remember the page number?? or try to lmao if i dont remember i just skim through the pages and try to recognise where i left off

4: how do you take your coffee/tea?

with at least 2 packets of sugar tbh…. i dont drink coffee

5: are you self-conscious of your smile?

omg story time i went 2 get my braces removed and the dentist wanted to take pics so he was like “smile with your teeth!” and i was like ok! but then he kept saying i wasnt doing it right lmao… guess whos never smiled b4… (me) so he told me 2 practice my smile lol i didnt answer the qn but ya,,, i am probably

6: do you keep plants?

i used 2 be very against plants… now theyre okay i guess i dont rly keep any

7: do you name your plants?

refer 2 6

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?

art??? i havent drawn in awhile

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?

no LOL

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?

on my side!!!! i cant sleep on my back bc i gotta hug smth.. and my stomach is out of the qn

11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends?

🅱️… and .. same brainwaves…. poor mans ____…. this is all from the shady hq im so sorry my other pals

12: what’s your favorite planet?

the moon for no real reason

13: what’s something that made you smile today?

hMMm, watching astro and mx perform??? and just being shady with bell lmao

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?

this… question,,,..so im thinking of a bright place with white walls and translucent curtains so the light call fill the (living) room perfectly and everythings really ??? sunny and shit idk its warm… the floor’s made of (fake?) wood and theres a small kitchen bc i cant cook and idk if my friend would be able to lol.. theres 2 bed rooms both are painfully small but it works.. theres one other room with a closet for clothes… the bathroom is just a shower, sink and toilet… theres no washing machine rip and ?? thats about it poor mens life

i watchd the like we used mv again and i realized ...... that is literally where i got this imagery from thanks the rose i love a relatable band

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!

heres a fact (?) from me first: it rains diamonds on one planet ?? mecury maybe?? mars??? whomst.. this isnt even a fact its ,me trying to recall shit

ok real fact: There are thousands of other planets out there. sorry lads this website doesnt wanna have fun

16: what’s your favorite pasta dish?

is spaghetti bolognese a pasta dish

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?

im chill with my current hair colour??? bc its brown sometimes idk shitty hair

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.

i asked my irl friends (group name: panic support group) and this is what they said

K: everything

E: when u were one hour late (i dont remember this happening but i do know im always late but never for an hour past me wyd)

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?

goDD i dont but i sure want to

20: what’s your favorite eye color?

this is strange but every eye colour is my favourite although ppl with two or more colours in their eyes are so cool

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces.

its just my school bag lmao i got it 4 years ago and i take it everywhere even if the event is “small” and they ask us to bring “smaller bags” ill bring my big ass school bag anyway it looks like this (i dont have to but linking stuff is so fun)

22: are you a morning person?

technically.???its the holidays but i still manage to get up before 10 (most of the time) and … even if i have like 5 hours of sleep i manage to feel awake really easily????

23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?

tf i just use my phone lmao this is what ive been doing for like a month now… i could watch every vlive i havent watched yet, i could make video compilations i could practice my art but… even though im out of school im still procrastinating.. legends only

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?

mmmm falens the closest to that

25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into?

my classroom

26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit?

white converse??  i have 2 get new ones every like 2 years since theyre also my school shoes and break easily….. other than those i have my blueblack converse too (i dont wear them as much so theyre still in one piece)

27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor?

i dont eat bubblegum bc im always afraid ill swallow it and die and im p sure its illegal here

28: sunrise or sunset?

sunset but i dont look outside enough for either

29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?

hm……… with jen its when she sends me asks on anon despite it being super obvious like im not a Fan when my friends send me asks on anon bc sometimes i cant tell and i get a sense of false hope but w/ jen its okay but i know its her

with bell its when they reply to my keyboard smashes with their own keyboard smashes lmao and when they just??//?? say smth cute abt their faves (lately its been sanha thank u sh)

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared?

ya lmao when i have 2 sleep alone and its completely dark i have half a mind 2 believe some random supernatural being is out for me

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.

hmM. socks are great i always wear them bc i wear shoes almost every time i go outside… i dont have any weird socks bc im Boring but i have 3 pkmn songs and 1 gudetama socks/.. bUT I DID buy my friend those socks with individual toe pockets… it was so funny when my other friend saw it she choked on her drink and almost spat it out. we laughed so hard we hit our heads against each other i love friendship.. i have 2 wear white socks for sch bc… aesthetic? god if i know lmao….. i only ever wear ankle socks bc….. socks any higher than that? cancelled.

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends.

listen ive never stayed up later than like 1am ok maybe 2am??? but i was working on like a project that was due the next day for school with my groupmates (friends) so does that count lmao

33: what’s your fave pastry?

bread………. sugar donuts…….. i am Aware that thats not how u spell it but wtv

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?

why does this ask so many qns in 1 qn……. i had a cat?? it had pink stripes and it didnt have a name bc i dont name my stuff… even my pokemon.. and yeah i still have it except its in a big dusty bag where all my other toys are kept

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?

i kinda have to use stationary for school so ya.. p often is correct… pretty pens??? i dont rly see the point whoopS!!! in exams u can only use black or blue so

36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now?

im listening 2 day6 so like day6

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?

my room isnt even my room i just go there to sleep .. the place im always at is like a study area except its open?? so everyone can see me lol and . its not messy?? if u look at it from far but the shit on the desk and shelves are so fucking messy god i need to pack those

38: tell us about your pet peeves!

aLRIGHT LADS welcome 2 megans ted talk

(skip this if ur not fond of drama)

so something (refer to the song he said suits myday) happened with jae recently and ive seen fans trying to defend him by @ing him and saying that they love him which is fine - great even! but what i dont approve is how everyone’s basically forgotten about the whole matter because they had concerts so instead of @-ing him and asking him to explain himself, they tell him what a great concert it was which is also great bc their concerts are honestly amazing. basically my pet peeve is when ppl dismiss the problematic action of some people just bc they like them.

another thing is that there were some fans who started guilting others for wanting to drop day6 completely because of what jae did and in my opinion i think it is totally cool to want to drop a group if they did smth bad like??? its ur life???? u can choose who you want to like. what is not cool is pulling out all the good things the person has ever done in their entire life and try to remind others about the positive sides of the person. yes. they’re an encouraging person, etc. but that does not cancel out the bad things they’ve done until they explain/apologise. what is infuriating is just the manner some people took it?? they literally went ahead and tweeted shit like “would your parents drop you if you did smth wrong?” and “you’re seriously gonna drop someone whos been nothing been nice because of one incident?” yes. people will and you dont have any fucking right to stop them? so dont go pulling out receipts.

another thing. its also okay to want to stan the whole group even if someone has done smth problematic. like? to me youre cool if youre able to see and acknowledge the bad shit someone has done and still stand by their side while educating them at the same time its nice to have faith in your idols. however, i wont say much when your idols dont respond and/or respond in a way that shows absolutely no remorse. its cool if you want to support them too, despite that.

tldr; dont fucking excuse someone’s behaviour/action just because youre so far up their fucking ass. dont pull out shit from before either, be it good or bad. and lastly, its okay to want to drop/continue supporting them, its your life.

i just wanted to talk about this tbh,, it was nice to see a few mydays trying to urge jae to explain the whole situation but seeing as he still hasnt and couldve it really irks me :-/

okay update its been a day and i havent really thought about this but im kinda conflicted now bc jae still hasnt talked about the song and im probably just making a big deal out of smth that will never happen again but it really doesnt sit right with me knowing that jae recommended that song to his fans and said it suited mydays?? bc looking at the lyrics... i SURE hope not... idk i have neither forgiven or forgotten but he’s okay now.? i cant stay mad at someone for that long anyway ill never forgive him 4 it though lmao petty ppl only

another thing... jae’s still an amazing person to me with all the encouraging words he says to mydays but this one incident is just soOOOOO hrm and i did go off tangent with the question as usual lol

39: what color do you wear the most?

i wear a lot of colours tbh??? but bc its rly hot out ive just been wearing the same shirt every time i leave the house and its black so

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you?

i dont wear jewelry rip

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving?

challenger deep

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!

hm,, ive only ever visited this coffee shop like more than once bc the girl i used 2 like showed it to me b4 like 2 years ago and it was nice i liked their mocha frappe and its cozy i guess??? sometimes i go there with friends to study/just eat but i havent gone in awhile.., its two stories and it has an open air sitting area too i prefer sitting inside bc the sun is a big no thanks.. the ceiling is kind of like?? going downward?? like the kind iin attics???? idk man it was nice

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?

u cant see shit here sorry

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?

cant relate

45: do you trust your instincts a lot?

yea?? sometimes i just gotta bc my brain wont shut the fuck up

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of.

suddenly all of the puns i know have left my mind thanks @ me

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?

vegetables

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?

the dark and whats basically in it???? like ghosts zombies and shit u kno the scary shit

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?

i like buying albums?? theres a CD in those so it counts lmao i bought sunrise by day6

50: what’s an odd thing you collect?

boxes??? like containers????

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them?

boxy and letting go by day6

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far?

YOU KNOW I HAD TO DO IT TO THEM and oh worm

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them?

me: rocky.. ?????? from astro.. /?? no ive never heard of any of those and i saw the word horror so u wont hear abt those from me any time soon

54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face?

i literally havent been outside for 2 days

55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point?

be petty aka yesterday i changed my twitter icon from jae 2 brian bc jae’s being a child rn so hes out

56: what are some things you find endearing in people?

when they ramble abt smth they like thanksk buds

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?

is this the song from p!atd i have it in my playlist lmao oh i fucing hate this song i always skip it im not listening

58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why?

idk what either of those are but bell and boxy

59: what’s your favorite myth?

idk any

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?

anything that eunwoo has ever written

61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received?

ive given eggs for karissa’s birthday b4 and i got a kermit its not stupid tho its just the closest thign i could think of

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind?

i drink water juice everyday every minute every hour

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?

my books are all in shelves lads i just  heard the fucking keys rattle im not doing this shit im logging off night

ok day 3 and im back like i said previously my books are on shelves i tried rearranging them by series b4 but my housekeeper rearrnaged them randomly the next day so i gave up

i make playlists for songs that i like, really like (i still skip them sometimes rip) and songs that my friend recommends me i have a seperate playlist for the songs i like in japanese 2

64: what color is the sky where you are right now?

light blue?? like its actually p white bc its cloudy

65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with?

m not rly

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like?

just. leaves maybe??

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?

Horror Movie

68: what’s winter like where you live?

oh winter is fucking fantastic it never gets colder than 25 degrees celsius here and if it does rain it lasts for like 10 minutes

69: what are your favorite board games?

i used to rly like snake and ladders and monopoly :-o

70: have you ever used a ouija board?

im not ready for that kinda death

71: what’s your favorite kind of tea?

english breakfast or earl gray??? those r like the standard right

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it?

ya but i never do bc i either forget to or am just 2 lazy

73: what are some of your worst habits?

being lazy + procrastinating :-D

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns.

okie :-o ..

they’re great ok ive talked abt them like 10 times in the span of 2 months but whatever folks

they’re super nice, kind and just all of the positive adjectives out there in the dictionary ...... they’ve helped me multiple times and they’re always there 2 lend me a listening ear (or in our case, eye lmao) idk??? im just super comfortable around them always and im honestly so thankful we became mutuals (and subsequently friends) last year!!!! i cant say a lot bc ill just get v repetitive but overall they’re an awesome friend and im glad we still communicate daily via twitter and sometimes our skype sessions even if they’re kinda awkward bc i never know when 2 talk bc im scared ill speak and theyll say smth and itll turn into a MESS which actually happened lmao  

im looking forward to the day our skype sessions become super smooth and easy going!!!

75: tell us about your pets!

i have none but id die for boxys cats

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t?

well yeah always tbh but its not smth i have to do but more like want to do im just 2 lazy to get around doing it

77: pink or yellow lemonade?

?? i almost said lemons arent pink but i Remembered...... yellow lemonade

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?

i feel like this is an Attack? okay LISTEN so story time again.

on the flight back from japan i watched the alien covenant and i couldnt even get past the scene where the baby alien was gonna kill the poor guy who ended up being locked up with the infected dude as soon as i saw the blood and the alien emerge from the guy’s back i bolted lmao

so to calm myself down nd block that memory from my mind i went ahead and watched despicable me 3.. which HONESTLY im the worst critic ever but in my humble opinion.... the movie was good????????? idk i didnt watch minions the movie though i got lazy again whooopS!

anwyay i sidetracked but im neutral im not a fan but i wouldnt go out of my way to call minions annoying?? bc they really arent? i feel like its only seen that way bc of how people make posts abt how annoying minions are even tho.. they arent??

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?

my memory hates me so every specific thing my friends have ever done for me has left my mind but .

the cutest thing? everything my friends do for me

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?

theyre yellow and no i didnt theyve been there ever since i could remember

81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.

lava cake

82: are/were you good in school?

yeah i was good in school for like the first three years and this year i just flopped so badly lmao and its my important year too oh well my exams r over and i still dont have a backup plan in mind

83: what’s some of your favorite album art?

all of dance gavin dance’s albums have awesome art

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?

back when i was really into 5sos i thought of getting a tally since that was their logo at that time but now no not really unless i decide to get lance’s face tattooed onto my forehead on impulse

85: do you read comics? what are your faves?

im keeping up with hq, bnha and tg manga!!!!

86: do you like concept albums? which ones?

idk what those r but sure

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?

big hero 6

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?

who wrote this whats up with these questions

i googled and.. not really?? they all look nice

89: are you close to your parents?

close enough to stand being in the same room as them but not close enough to want to initiate conversations

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities.

tokyo was really cool (literally) and if i ever go again id love to go with friends so we can explore more??

91: where do you plan on traveling this year?

japan was supposed to be the only plan for this year but my grandad passed away so i had to go to malaysia multiple times earlier this year ik this wasnt the qn but ive already went to the planned destination tm so

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?

BARELY SPRINKLES A PINCH im anti cheese

93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most?

um. like?? i tie the sides of my hair that cover my face back??? bc i dont like hair in my face

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday?

bell

95: what are your plans for this weekend?

hopefully something useful

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?

i also click remind me tomorrow lmao

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?

infp-t, capricorn, hufflepuff (same as falen nd jen yay)

98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?

uh ive never been hiking and i dont plan on it sorry body

99: list some five (or id never shut up) songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them.

currently......

when you love someone - day6

like we used to - the rose

crazy sexy cool - astro

death of a strawberry - dance gavin dance

if it means a lot to you - a day to remember

idk if these actually “resonate to my soul” they just sound nice

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why?

oh worm.. i wouldnt miind either???

i know i have 2 choose but like

if i go back into the past i could be less annoying?? but the past has actually helped me be the way i am today and i think im learning to be a better person?? im definitely way better than how i was previously 5 years ago and im just grateful i was able to learn from my mistakes???

so i wouldnt go back to the past.

if its in the future i can see how ill end up and if its not good i might end up being able to change myself so i dont get my “bad end”..???? maybe or i can just see what happens in the future and i can look forward to it

itll also give me a chnace to have the most fun while i can if its not too nice

so my decision is to go to the future

thank you so much for asking falen god this got so long lmao

#if anybody read through all 100.. thank u and have a good day!!! #softshouyous #asks

[fluffi]

so should i reply in tiny font or just regular font?

hybe should do better in spreading out the comebacks of the groups under them :/ they're already at a huge advantage, might as well use it strategically. AHA streaming mvs is so convenient for a multi. the filler vids i could use in between could be mvs from the other groups that i stan. also you know what, i still haven't watched a single final performance bc im waiting for a friend to watch with me :D

i have a chinese movie recommendation in case you want something to cry over. i still love its ost and it's been months since i watched it. i'm not sure if you watched it already but more than blue. i've never cried over a movie as much as i cried for that one. the angst *chef's kiss*. i'd do anything to wipe my memory of it and watch it again for the first time.

also sungchan is mc-ing in inkigayo every sunday! and honestly, what the hell is nct hollywood :D but a part of me thinks it's just going to be a bunch of asians living in america like johnny that'll be a part of it. just a hunch tho. imagine having all 4 units coming back in a year with like 1 unit per quarter of the year. i'm not sure if sm even has the money to do this, especially when they filed bankruptcy recently.

and i've seen a lot of twitter memes saying taro's ghosted stans T_T alexa play ghosting by txt T_T sm come on give him smth to do, you're wasting talent.

the mall didn't burn down entirely (like from the outside it looked fine). the ventilation system caught fire so it was more internal—ceilings and all that. covered things with soot(?) and ashes so the entire mall was closed for nearly 2 years. and hey, i've experienced a school fire too back when i was younger. i, too, thought it was nothing but a fire drill until i saw the charred remains of the buildings behind our school : D thankfully, no one died.

the new nct track is for a samsung commercial AHAHA it's funny because nearly everyone uses apple TT_TT and the mv screams neo culture tech tho (well as it should lmao). yes, i was talking about that part in hot sauce but yes, it grew on me too.

ateez really know how to do a performance. they put the standard so high for me when it came to performing. their facial expressions and overall stage presence just impresses me. it's been a while since i've seen idols draw me to them by those standards.

ah, the long stan list! good luck in getting through it and i hope you do have fun as you go :] (also you can check out aurora by ateez and whiplash by tbz. the songs popped up in my head as i was typing this reply, you might like them)

ohhhh, what was the pd48 scandal? i don't watch survival shows so i don't know any of the stuff going on. would you care to elaborate? about their disbandment :(( i hope you're okay now tho! are the other girls still debuting in new groups? anyone eyeing an acting career instead of being an idol?

YES, A PATTERN IN THE BIASES (if you count an analysis of two ppl as a pattern, that is.) because it's the same pattern i have for my biaswreckers :D jake & seungmin, not only do they have the same animal to represent them, they have the same 'golden retriever' type of personality that just makes you go all soft. ygwim ;n; i wish i could elaborate but both boys just devastate me in the same level and my friends pointed out that they were quite similar in some aspects.

jaemin used to send really long bbl messages :< like if there was anything he loved most it was nctzens and it was obv in his messages. speaking of dream, album repackage news today! idk what to feel bc my hot sauce albums haven't even arrived yet :D + i'm dead br0ke.

how do you even manage to read 30k TT__TT i cant handle long fics bc of my attention span :D also, yes, i found the user now, i'll check if i'll like their works soon. <33

YES YOU SHOULDVE BEEN THERE T_T what a day that was. i think seungmin is still sweet and active in bbl. not a single cent goes to waste with him. also i think i'll post the drabble some time this month.

and oml seungmin vs jake :o let's see how that goes O.O XDD

clickity-clackity AHAH do you have a mechanical keyboard? :c i wanted one too but i haven't got around to saving up for one. but yes indeed, typing asmr v relaxing \m/

sunny hyuck day, fullsun sunday, fullsunday T_T feels were very strong that day. i kept seeing edits on my twt tl and i would just s o b : D i've only stanned nct for a year but i've seen him grow so much i just wanted to crie i love him sm :') yk my mom didn't cook spaghetti for my birthday, but she cooked for hyuck's? : D

and i checked ur recs blog and indeed, full of nct T_T

also have i mentioned that your desktop thing amuses me so much HAHAH i got confused for a sec if i had twt opened or tumblr. plus, i've been wanting to mention that i noticed that our mobile themes are opposites. black and red, white and blue. it's cute XDD <3

help, people have been telling me that our asks are long but i highkey love it. i added a ‘keep reading’ for the mobile users though, sorry in advance hh.

honestly, both works. tiny font saves space but regular font does more justice for my poor eyes haha. its your call!

hybe comebacks :( yeah enhypen got lucky because they came back right before cb season so they got three wins (yay)! on the bright side, txt just got their first win and bts has six wins, so it all works out i guess. omg yes, the streaming thing is perfect. i stan like 20 groups so i have a never-ending cycle of filler mvs and its always so helpful. ooh for the final performances - you wont regret watching any of them! literally wild, kingdom's budget and talent are wild.

ooh, I don't watch any cdramas lmao. i want to but i can barely finish kdramas. if its a movie ill watch it! ive never heard of more than blue but ill check it out <3 where can i watch it?

yes yes i have just realized that sungchan is yujin's co-mc! i watched their special stage (which is literally adorable) and was today years old when i realized that the dude is sungchan pls. nct hollywood was so unexpected and i still have mixed feelings about it now. LMAO JUST ASIANS LIVING IN AMERICA...help. that would be interesting (?) but the concept reminds me of those horrendous awesomeness tv shows. lets hope sm pulls this off well and proves me wrong. lmao all 4 units coming back would probably happen, but i hope none of them get overworked :( i constantly feel like mork lee has four clones :'( also...sm filed bankcruptcy??? dang, what happened?

ugh omg yeah shotaros talent is seriously being wasted in the basement right now. as for fires, scary T-T i wasnt that fazed by them until the australia wildfires happened, and i learned about the consequences of fire and got really scared. its good that the entire mall didnt burn down though! although its weird that no one is opening it :( schools really need to tell us the difference between drills though, it might be dangerous for those rebellious kids.

yeah i just realized that the nct track is an endorsement which partly explains why i cant listen to it. the mv's visuals are stunning!! the set and people are so gorgeous aa i cant

oh yeah im not an atiny but i have acknowledged since 2020 that they have one of the best, if not the best stage presence and expressions on stage for 4th gen. i think their only worthy competitor would be stray kids actually. theyre truly one of a kind and all of them are cute especially that yeosang guy. i will definitely check out your song recommendations though!

oof the pd48 scandal is extremely complicated. to condense it in a few statements: all of the girls' rankings have been rigged since the very beginning and it was rumored that they already had their end group before the show even started. it was like this for pf48 and pdx101 (group x1) which was why x1 disbanded within a month of debuting, and izone were on hiatus for like 4 months. im not the best at explaining stuff like this haha, but i think you get it. you can check out yt or search up 'pd48 scandal', a ton of articles and videos. as for new groups, nothing has been made clear yet. theyve only made instagram handles for now and appeared on variety shows haha. as for acting career, hyewon was supposed to do acting but was forced to join pd48 so maybe she'll continue acting afterwards? nothing is confirmed yet!

lmao two similarities, its okay it counts. ah, true, i can see their similarities now that youve mentioned it, as well as how jeno is kind of like that. however, i am currently attached to jaemin so we'll see what happens from there hehe. i swerve easily.

jaemin on bubble grr, that would be a whole experience. from the bare minimum of vidoes ive seen for him wbk jaemin is so whipped for czennies. ah yes repackage! i saw the post on instagram and went to the comments to see everything screaming ‘iM bROke!’ and it was lowkey hilarious lmao. kpop is really trying to suck our money T-T.

ope the longest fic ive read is like...40k words i think? and it was by jeonginks. ill read anything eiko produces lmao, theres always so much substance in her work. ooh, tell me what you think of luvdsc’s stuff, i just finished binging their entire masterlist lmao.

seungmin vs jake yeah, i havent been catching up on skz enha content because im still obsessing over the dreamies but when that saga is over then im going to focus on my ults lmao (which might include dream soon, hehe).

yes yes i have a mechanical bluetooth keyboard that i use to connect to my computer! it literally sounds amazing lmao, its only 10am here but i feel like im going to doze off from the clickity clackitys already. i cant wait for you to get one! tell me when you do, we can match hehe.

hyuck is an aodrable brat please. hes like the best comedian of nct at this point, so hilarious and filled with variety i love him. he rose up my bias list pretty fast too. LMAO YOUR MOM IS SO COOL I LOVE HER ALREADY. if only my mom would cook for my ults’ borndays.

yes my rec blog is a mess right now, ill organize it soon haha.

omg thank you and yes my website theme is one-of-a-kind. even i get confused when i open it or edit it, and i constantly get comments about it. also i just realized our opposing theme colors and i love it! its adorable.

#long post #also im listening to love song right now haha i love it so much #also sorry for not answering yesterday hhh i got busy last night #「 asks 」 #moots — [♡] ; #toffee — [♡] ; #neo-shitty