#but it the situation also is makes zero sense

[regainingparadise]

TMA Headcanon on the Archival Staff & co's childhood social lives

Jon was periodically actively bullied in primary school, especially through people pretending to be friendly and then mocking him for believing them. It's made him particularly sensitive to betrayal and suspicious of kindness.

Martin was rarely if ever actively bullied by his peers (maybe a couple times for writing poetry, or being queer), but he also very rarely if ever had friends. No one noticed him enough to bother with him.

Tim was never bullied and always had an active social life, though sometimes his boundless energy and sense of humor could be A Lot for some people to deal with

Sasha always had a small friend group and wasn't consistently targeted by bullies, but she dealt with subtle racist and sexist harassment from many of her peers. For some reason, those who were dicks to her mysteriously found their darkest secrets the subject of gossip.

Basira tended to have, zero to two good friends at a time, and coped with bullying by emotionally detaching herself completely from the situation, often by studying or reading. When she reached secondary school, she hit back very effectively one time and was mostly left alone after that.

Daisy canonically dealt with her school bully by eventually murdering him. After Calvin Benchley went wrong, she didn't have other close friends, though she wasn't an outcast or anything

Georgie usually had a good friend group, but dealt with social bullying along class lines and probably also for being a nerd. Even though the school wouldn't intervene, but her parents made sure she had therapy and as much support as they could give her. It didn't keep her from being envious of the cool kids, but it does make her the most emotionally stable person in Jon's adult life

Melanie was 100% getting into fights with her bullies (and anyone who told her she couldn't do something because she's a girl) regularly.

[sickosdotjpg]

thinking very intently about a stern, severe, imposing sort of character, the type who despises being seen as showing weakness, who stifles their sneezes as quietly as possible when they're around other people. they sneeze so forcefully that it can't be contained or held back; the stifling is as much of a compromise as they can manage, though it gives them a terrible headache.

thinking about this uptight chronic stifler having one person with whom they feel comfortable enough to let out their sneezes around. it's an unconscious thing, not at all deliberate; the stifling in public is fully a reflex by now, as is the letting it out in private. they don't even realize! their One Person, on the other hand, is Very Aware. 👀👀👀

[ajdrawshq]

i can almost guarantee ive said it before but. he would thrive in a zero escape game

[cienie-isengardu]

Jango Fett Open Seasons: Retreat vs. fight no matter the cost

Another detail from Jango Fett: Open Seasons that I find very telling about characters is their approach to retreat. I’m specifically want to talk about the  four major Mandalorians - Tor Vizsla, Jaster Mereel, Jango Fett and Montross as they all were at some point in the story put in situation when they needed to decide to continue fight no matter the cost (in theory the ideal Mandalorian warrior mindset) or to prioritizing their people’s life (a choice testifying to good leadership). And yes, those situations weren’t always exactly the same yet similar enough to see the implied(?) similarities in theoretical dissimilar characters.

So we have Jaster Mereel, the original leader of True Mandalorians. During a mission on Korda Six, when Mandalorians came across the enemy's heavy fire (and Jango ordered his people to find cover), Jaster gave an order to regroup at Jango’s location - the safest place and abort the air strike.

And once it became clear, they made a mistake to rely on second-handed intel - but before they learned it was Death Watch's trap - Jaster decided to abort the whole mission. Something quite different from what Jango will teach his son decades later (“Your loyalty, your honor – these are the things that matter. When you accept a mission, when you give your word, it is all that matters.”)

Montross however refused to regroup at Jango's location

and continued the attack, stating "we've never abandoned a mission!"

Montross survived thanks to Jaster who personally came to his aid only to betray his leader and leave him behind once Tor showed up. And while he tried to take command of True Mandalorians, he did order an evacuation, as the "Jaster's last order still stands" argument.

Then we have Tor Vizsla who during Jango’s attack on Death Watch’s ship, ordered everyone to evacuate.

And now, let’s talk about Jango Fett who started very much minded like Jaster, what was the best visible on Korda Six. The mission was his first official role as Squad Commander but he didn’t allow pride or desire to make Jaster proud to take over common sense. When it became clear his men were under too strong enemy’s fire, he ordered them to get into trenches / find cover. 

However on Galidraan, as a leader of True Mandalorians, when he already knew they walked again into Death Watch’s trap, instead of  de-escalate threat of the Jedi by at least trying calm down the situation and presenting what is going on behind the scene- and mind you, the Jedi did not have all facts but Fett already met Vizla at Governor's residence and as he wore helmet at that time, most likely had recorded this, not to mention all Mandalorians could present what they were doing and where they were via the recording from helmets - Fett ordered to open fire. And the Jedi naturally responded as such.

(And really, if Fett was smarter he could at least try to turn Jedi against Death Watch).

This is even more surprising choice as Jango's first reaction upon seeing Republic shuttles before even meeting eye to eye with Jedi was to call his second-in-command to order an evacuation.

Which is pretty ironic, that both Jaster and Tor, despite their ideological differences, were at some point shown to prioritizing their men’s safety by ordering retreat / evacuation, while Jango started as similar minded (Korda Six and upon seeing Republic shuttles on Galidraan) but once Jedi showed up, his attitude changed into “no running, fight whatever the cost” which not only led to great tragedy but made him more like Montross. 

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

I feel like if one wants — and is trying to give themself — a mental disorder by using the label of “transid,” then they are probably already disordered in some other way that they are in denial of; because it‘s more stigmatized, or “less interesting” than the neurotype they’ve chosen to mimic… which is sad because they’re masking in two different directions at that point: one to hide their illness, the other to create an illness… which will lead to more illness. Bleak, to be honest.

[torgawl]

a bit obsessed with the idea of kusakabe dying as a form of sacrifice to specifically protect/save somebody else. it's consistent enough with the theme of the past generation achieving no meaningful feats against significant threats but it's also ironic enough that someone without a technique and who claims their philosophy is primarily self-sacrificial - although he tends to stay from his own ideals in critical moments, proving he's not only brave when necessary but he does have a sense of responsabilty and guilt - ultimately redeems themselves through death resulting in the achievement of something his colleagues have failed to do. not that i'm wishing for him to die, i hope he doesn't. but it would also make a clear-cut distinction between him and a character like mei mei, who narratively serves a very similar purpose (besides her being a foil to nanami). to have someone be awarded by their selfishness just for it to not be worth much within a world and system that runs and sustains itself due to the sorcerer's labour power, whose only means of subsistence is to sell themselves away. a class of people who is doomed no matter what path they choose to take, as long as they do not break free from their duties and as long as the system doesn't collapse. a death that could serve as a symbol of punishment towards solidarity and altruism but a win for revolution.

[arataka-reigen]

tell us about your ocs when you wake up

Oh there is so much lore for all of them lmao and so many conflicting details because i just keep addind stuff that makes no sense on top of it lmao

Ok but i'll talk a bit about a few of them.

Dorian was born with an entity inside his body called Omen that allows him to sense when people are close to their death, but he has no way to actually prevent those deaths or communicate that to the person who is dying as it will change nothing of the outcome and the person will still die, so that fucks him up a lot. Besides that he tries to be a very positive person for his friends, but he also represses a lot and has never told anyone about his strange ability.

Maya is the reincarnation of an evil witch who messed with love magic, she was placed at the hospital by a coven of witches in the arms of a couple who had just lost their biological child. Maya doesn't know any of that. She lives her life surrounded by love and happiness until all that is shattered when she comes to realize that every love she has ever received was a spell she unconsciously cast over everyone in her life. She is specially devastated to realize her parents were deeply suffering because of her magic, not able to show any emotion that wasn't happiness or affection, when in fact their subconscious had been mourning the death of their biological daughter all this time. It is not that they don't love Maya, but the love they felt was unnatural, they never got the chance to truly love her because all they felt was dictated by her unconscious spell. So. Uh. Another character deeply fucked up by her own powers.

[nyankoizumi]

Grabs DHMIS tv show by the shoulders and draws blood like that one meme please please please PLEASE let duck have a turn on the self awareness. Let him go insane. Let him see the situation he is in or show us if he knows it and how he copes with it please please i am begging you they're gonna kill my wife if you don't

[lieutenant-amuel]

okay i suppose this is not a chapter all about valerio but you revealed so much about him here i can’t even imagine what else you have in store for him

and overall this whole scene is fantastic

This is definitely not.

A chapter all about Valerio will probably turn into two chapters of my usual length aijsjfjlf. Anyway, Valerio told his story super briefly and he didn’t really clarify the setting, so there’s still lots of things he’s hiding. Just Valerio’s story spoke to Emilio, and he couldn’t be suspicious of him anymore. All he thought about then was Verónica.

And thank you! I loved writing that scene.

[sunderwight]

Shen Yuan who glitches in his transmigration, but the original Shen Qingqiu still dies of a qi deviation.

So the System still needs someone with narrative relevance to throw Luo Binghe into the Abyss. In a fit of desperation, it contrives circumstances after Shen Qingqiu's death to move Luo Binghe to An Ding Peak (not that difficult), and then the System makes Shang Qinghua be Luo Binghe's new scum master who casts him down.

Airplane's thrilled, really. Cultivators aren't supposed to get ulcers but damned if he doesn't come close to one anyway. Between Shen Qingqiu and then just a while later Liu Qingge both dying from qi deviations, and Shang Qinghua looking like a stiff breeze could take him out any day now, poor Mu Qingfang is also just about at his wits' end.

But it's not all bad news! On An Ding Peak, Luo Binghe actually finds himself surrounded by the kinds of people who are accustomed to being bullied by the rest of the sect. So they're pretty sympathetic to him, and it's easier for someone with basic laboring skills to advance on that peak too. His chores don't decrease too much, but he actually gets rewarded for doing them well, and no one tries to kick him out of the dorms or anything. Shang Qinghua doesn't either go out of his way to bully or praise Luo Binghe, correctly reasoning that his best shot at not getting a gruesome death is to just be a more forgettable bad guy than an abusive dirtbag or a heart-wrenching betrayal. He doesn't sabotage Luo Binghe's cultivation (no point, and it would just farm resentment later) but he also doesn't go out of his way to help him improve (not gonna arm his inevitable maybe-probably-murderer with better weapons!), so Luo Binghe's situation sees an overall improvement but not the zero-to-hero treatment he'd have got with Shen Yuan either.

When Shang Qinghua shoves Luo Binghe into the Abyss (he just full on picks him up and tosses him like a sack of beans, better to rip it off quick like a bandage), LBH is upset, but he's not especially surprised or dismayed about Shang Qinghua's part in it. Later on he'll be kind of confused, because he just assumed that of course the righteous sect cultivator would abhor the demon, but it turns out Shang Qinghua has been working for a demon since before Luo Binghe even came to the sect? But then it still kind of makes sense because a Heavenly Demon would definitely pose a risk to Mobei Jun and to Mobei Jun's rule. Shang Qinghua, he supposes, is just really loyal to his specific demon.

Luo Binghe's subsequent revenge quest is also somewhat mitigated by the Abyss actually not being that bad.

The Abyss is not actually that bad thanks to the glitched out Shen Yuan having been camping there for several years now.

So when Shen Yuan's transmigration failed it failed because he "woke up" during the process, realized where the System intended to put him, was like no way in goddamn hell am I being that guy about it, and actually kind of won the ensuing tug-of-war. The System couldn't put him in Shen Qingqiu but Shen Yuan didn't want to go back to his dead body either, so he ended up stuck in the nearest available space for lost interdimensional beings. Which was the Endless Abyss.

Luckily Shen Yuan's quasi-transmigrated imparted an equivalent cultivation level as Shen Jiu's to him, and the glitch made him able to sense and manipulate certain extra-dimensional energies, so he manifested as this weird godlike being able to manipulate and control aspects of the Abyss. So he set about transforming Airplane's Torment Nexus into a viable ecosystem (the current version would not be anything approaching sustainable were it not for divine/narrative intervention, and is constantly on the verge of destabilizing into unlivable ruin that would only be fit for some particularly hardy microorganisms).

It's still like, a monster land full of demonic creatures and terrifying phenomenon, but with Shen Yuan's assistance it becomes something more like a demonic wildlife reserve than a dimensional horror plane. Though it is still a dimensional horror plane, and Shen Yuan is its chief dimensional horror. He treats it sort of like those dungeon building or wildlife park sims, figuring out how to keep everything in balance while still preserving all the interesting parts. A lot of the extreme survival issues of the Abyss are more of a result of it being environmentally unstable than a result of its actual denizens, and once he smooths out a lot of the messy dimensional edges and creates stable vents for the fluctuating energy run-off, the demonic inhabits start behaving less like horror movie monsters and more like animals. They're still wild and dangerous and prone to killing one another, but also more cautious, and able to access enough stable resources that they can even start to be picky about what they pursue.

Turns out that a lot of creatures in the Abyss actually don't like fighting and dying and being brutally injured on a regular basis, even if they can heal from it!

Shen Yuan has even discovered that some like chin scritches (he's not terribly worried about habituating them to people, given how rarely any people actually access the Abyss, but also because he's not really all that people-ish himself these days).

This means that one of Luo Binghe's first encounters with the horrible creatures of the Abyss, is in fact a pack of wolf-like monsters thoroughly avoiding an actual fight with him. In fact most of the denizens of the Abyss just avoid him. They can smell the Heavenly Demon energy rolling off of him, and given the current abundance of alternatives to dealing with that, virtually none of the monsters actually choose to challenge him. There are still a few that will go after anything that's bleeding, but that problem stops once Luo Binghe's physiology heals his wounds, which takes like... a couple hours, max.

Despite the stories he's heard, Luo Binghe is relieved to find that the Abyss is not quite so terrible as all that. Normal survival skills suffice for seeing him through much of it. He's able to hunt for food, scavenge for tools, and even finds potable water fairly easily. After a few weeks, he also comes across a ruin which seems to be inhabited.

The being inhabiting it is plainly a god, although he demurs and refutes such assertions whenever Binghe is too frank. He's a strange being, at turns looking like some queer approximation of a human, at other times blinking and winking in and out of existence, in patterns of strange lights and oddly geometrical fire. But he's surprisingly not hostile, letting Binghe rest in his residence, and even directing him towards points of interest. Accompanying him, too, though he seems to think that Binghe doesn't notice the odd almost spiderweb-like patterns that appear on things which he's influencing. The god calls himself The Peerless One, or at least that's what Luo Binghe infers from some writings on the ruin. The Peerless One offers instruction, seemingly without thinking about it, and gets flustered at being addressed by title, so Binghe also begins to refer to him as Shizun after a while.

[kithtaehyung]

broken, pt. 1 (3tan) | myg

title: broken (pt. 1) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series:masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: chilling conversations prolong things even further… until everything goes to hell. note: this is only one half of what was supposed to be a whole chapter! broken, pt. 2 will come out after i've had time to make it something i'm proud of. trying to rush everything out didn't do any favors, so hilariously and ironically, broken is broken up into two hahaha. warnings: language, angst, tension, yoongi’s pov is longgg, alcohol consumption, tobacco mentions, bro🥲, yoongi in the studio😩, the studio boys make another appearance👀, …someone else makes their first appearance👀👀, scuffles, tense situations, did i say angst?, water bottles get their own warning, long hair yoongi, basketball yoongi🫠, crying, bro a ha ha, jimin has tats and he’s not afraid to show them, the chains stay on(???), …bad boy yoongi😀👍, honestly he is on another level of warning here don’t perceive me💀, the fluff is fluffing here like what, backstory we’ve been waiting for😗, yoongi on the phone, hand holding :’)), kissing :’)), oh god the kissing❤️‍🩹, there’s just a lot in both parts i'm sorry y'all playlist: broken (lp) drop date: dec 3rd, 2023, 4:00pm est word count: ...19.1k 🚶‍♀️

-

-

Words abandon you.

They stand far from your form, pitying observers of your decaying state in front of the man you’ve been lying to. At once, you feel completely alone, not even Yoongi’s lingering presence helping when those eyes are piercing through time and space. Everything you’ve experienced over the past two years slings across your vision, from the first time you left your house in the pouring rain to get to Yoongi’s, to the car ride back you just took with his kiss still on your lips. 

All of those moments shattering into dust around your heels. 

Your feet make lines in them when you move to close the front door, something leaving your mouth before you can judge if it makes sense, “About what?” 

Zero sense. Absolute zero sense. Which your brother has absolute zero patience for. The drone in his question hits you like a punch to the gut, “Really.” 

“Just out late, is all,” you grumble, trying your best to not acknowledge an atmosphere so tense it’s almost crowded. “Jimin had another party, remember?” 

“Course I do.”

Huh? Wait. Why does he sound so—

“I was there.”

Dread launches up your veins, rocketing right to your heart in the middle of a pulse. He was there? You saw his car when Yoongi pulled up close to the house. He was there? When the fuck did he arrive? Oh, fuck, if he got there early enough… did he see you… and Yoongi…

No. There’s no way. Because one, Yoongi parked far down and around the corner. He made sure not to be close just in case you two could be spotted. 

With a thought you really cannot afford right now, you also assume he stayed that distance just so that he could pin you against his car. Fucking hell, focus! Upping the strength of your resolve to match cardboard, you lamely stall in your hunt for clarification, “You were?” 

“I was.” 

The watch on his wrist glints in its twist. When aggravated veins stare back at you, it’s obvious your brother is on the edge. Because he is deathly calm. “So where’d you go?” 

You blink, not having expelled a single breath since you stepped foot inside. 

Does he not know? Or does he know and he’s just waiting for you to finally spill? With all the hope in the universe, you yearn for it to be the first one. Because you cannot deal with a fallout right now. Not right after what happened with Yoongi. 

It’s just not the right time. 

“Yuri’s,” you blurt, finally kicking into gear and strategizing how you’re gonna finesse this. “She came and got me.” 

Your sibling just stands there, eyes a solid beam before he sighs at clasped wrists. 

Here it comes. He’s gonna ask why you didn’t say anything. Like he always does because for some reason you’re still not a true adult to him and he has to keep tabs on you at all times and you can’t just sneak around with his best friend in peace—

“K.” Your eyes shake once. “Just tell me next time.” 

And just like that, your brother vacates the foyer, dark dress shoes clacking as he retreats back into his room. Leaving you standing in silence. 

All the words around you just as speechless. 

Just like that, you’re gone again.

After watching you leave and wishing you didn’t have to, Yoongi shuts his door to rest ponderous thoughts on worn wood. Eyes closed and a storm on his mind’s horizon.

Just a little longer. He hopes you’ll understand. This is just something he needs. More than anything else. 

Exhausted, he peels himself from the door, meandering through the bog of his living room. Trudge, trudge, trudge to the dining table, skirting fingers along the edge and noting that it feels different than before. 

At least something in his apartment has changed for the better. 

Who would’ve thought that table would witness both an end and a beginning. That it would see the worst and best of him. If it was ever called to stand, there’s no doubt that it could recite all his failures and shortcomings. But he hopes that it would also attest to how much he’s fucking tried. 

As much as Yoongi wants to throw it out, he hasn’t. Because despite being withered to hell, all it needed to recover was the new company of a familiar face. 

And a little bit of summer rain. 

It watches as his thoughts move on, and soaks in the blues and pinks of sunrise as he crosses into the bedroom. At the feel of your lingering presence, Yoongi gnaws on his lip. 

What the fuck does he do now? The moment you leave, he wants nothing more than to have you back in his bed. It’s the one fact that he has come to fully acknowledge. Because there are many times you’ve caught him slipping. But when you’re lost to your dreams? Visibly at peace and safe under his sheets? That’s when he can’t even think straight. 

How your serenity throws him into disarray, Yoongi has no fucking clue.

But he can’t afford these feelings right now. Because how can he want you close while being the reason for this distance? Make it make sense. Don’t be a fucking hypocrite. Tsking, Yoongi once again accepts the consequences, heading to his bathroom before going back the fuck to sleep. 

Lies. Who is he kidding? There’s no way his rest will be the same without you. Especially since he doesn’t know when he’ll get to see you next. 

There is a way to remedy that. To put an end to your time apart. But Yoongi’s been so in his fucking head that it’s chaining him down and pulling taut. No matter how much he struggles, he can’t break free, and it’s driving him to the brink.

But last night? With you? Half moons mar his palms as he stands. Staring. Branding that whole memory into his heart.

After three months of questioning his existence. 

All it took was your soft hums to give him a reason. 

And you won’t ever know how much that meant to him. Not until Yoongi finally decides to tell you. Which will most likely be never. Maybe that’s why this time tears at his chest more than all the others. Maybe that’s why he stood in his doorway longer than usual. Maybe that’s why he can’t quite carry the weight in his chest.

Dumping himself on dark mountains—creations of his and your design—Yoongi buries his face in those valleys. Inhales those aromas like some hit he can live off of for however many days left he needs. 

Desperately grasping for a fading world where only you two exist. Drifting. Dreaming. Disarmed by a vibration on his nightstand.

The fuck.

Who is texting him this early. There are only a few people he has notifications on for wait it’s probably you saying you’re home.

Peeling himself off the sheets with a groan, Yoongi simply shifts his upper body to reach for his phone, squinty-eyed as he checks his screen.

And he doesn’t see your name.

Dumbass: 1 New Message

But your brother’s.

What the hell does he—

Dumbass [07:30]: We need to talk.

…Shit.

Yoongi grips his phone in panic, ice water streaming through his veins and mind set ablaze with potential scenarios.

He’s awake. You went home. And he’s awake. Fuck, did anything happen? Did you say anything? What are the chances this text means he found everything out? 

Shit. 

Does Yoongi answer now? Or does he sleep and pretend that this is just a text and isn’t a problem at all? Think. Your brother may not even be referencing you, or him. Right? It could be something completely different. 

Why can’t he fucking move? 

Every regret Yoongi’s kept at bay floods his brain, crashing into assumptions of your mental state and creating a massive whirlpool of dread. Just answer. Don’t answer. Just answer. Don’t fucking answer. Suddenly, another alert lights his home screen and it’s a call oh fuck—wait… It’s Jungkook? 

Why not. Sure. What’s one more issue. 

Picking up, Yoongi runs hard fingers through his hair as he answers.

“Hey, you coming?”

“Huh?”

“We have that session in thirty.”

The what. The session? Oh, fuck. The session. Yoongi completely forgot they had a recording booked today because they were so hyped last night to get a date for the release party shit. Vacating his bed, Yoongi answers with a low, “Yeah, I’ll be there.” 

“Yeah, don’t be late. It’s those guys from before.” 

Fuck, it’s that one. The dudes that stopped by the studio just as things were wrapping up, shocking everyone when they scheduled some time. Highly successful musicians and performers booking something with a no name studio? Things are rolling in the right direction and coming along fast. 

But as things go. If they don’t take this shit seriously, everything can crash just as quickly.

“Heading out,” Yoongi finally says as he yanks a hoodie from his closet, and a loud vibration against his ear makes him flinch. 

Dumbass [7:40]: Heading over

Fuck!

“You okay?” 

“Shit, yeah.” Yoongi grips soft material before his phone hits his desk with a thump. Hastily dressing, he grunts, “Maybe. Might be like two minutes late.” 

“Nah, come now.” 

He’s heading over? Your brother? If that’s the case, there’s no way he doesn’t know. 

Fuck, relax. Don’t overthink. If anything, there wouldn’t have even been a heads-up. Yoongi figures he’d just find out as soon as he’s thrown against a wall. Or the ground. Or right onto his coffee table that this very guy helped pick out. Shit, he needs to know but he doesn’t wanna find out. 

But nevermind him. Are you okay? Swiping his device, Yoongi quickly types a text before fast-walking out of his room, going on autopilot when he assures into his receiver, “I’ll get there.” 

Yoongi [7:42]: Going to the studio

“On time? You better!”

Goddamn, he’s juggling too much right now. 

As Yoongi breaks into the dining room, he hears a rustling on the line before other voices jut through the speaker. Sounds like Hobi and Joon are already there, and the next thing said further spikes his stress level another peak, 

“We’re already cutting it close with the prep.” 

Fucking hell, the prep. The mics, the tracks, the setup. They forgot to do all of it. Something inside of him starts snarling and almost pounces through the phone, “Fuck, we should’ve been ready already.” 

“Shit, I know.” 

“We can’t keep doing this.” 

“Dude, relax, I get it.” 

“Do you? Cus this is… Fuck.” 

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll get it done but it’s gonna be tight. Hey, where’s the… Damn it, what’s it called?”

Frustrated and rummaging through his pantry, Yoongi knows he sure as hell didn’t think about anything else as soon as he heard you crying on the line. If he had remembered while leaving the studio, he could’ve spared a brain cell to rush everyone back in. “The what.” 

“The… The overhead mic for the drums.” 

Of course, he’d repeat every decision he made last night. Over, and over, and over again. But any of them should’ve remembered this step before leaving, which pisses him off. The studio’s lack of experience is showing and it’s making him nervous. 

And Yoongi still doesn’t know what’s going on with his best friend. 

“We need two overheads for drums,” he corrects while swiping a water bottle from the counter. And he’s about to rattle off where they are when he feels another long buzz. 

Dumbass: Incoming Call 

Of fucking course. 

Mind whirring so hard he can feel steam, Yoongi quickly recalls where the mics are, “They’re somewhere in the back by the amps, but I gotta take this so I’ll see y’all there.” 

“Wait, where are the—”

Nope. Kook’s just gonna have to figure out whatever he’s asking on his own. Switching calls, Yoongi answers while opening his door, hastily putting out the food and water he grabbed from the kitchen. 

“Hey.” Fuck, is his voice shaking? What the hell is he gonna be faced with in the next few seconds? Can he freeze time and rewind and keep last night on repeat? “I’m about to head out.” 

“Don’t leave yet, I’m coming.” 

“No, just”—Yoongi dashes back inside before grabbing his wallet and keys from the bar—“You good? I can’t be late.” 

“Don’t lie. Y’all are done, right?” 

Don’t lie. Yoongi feels like hurling. 

“We got another project,” he huffs as he meets sunrise again, blazing a trail through his corridor and rounding the corner to his car. “A band’s coming in for a session.”

“Shit.”

There’s a pause on the line. And it’s the first bit of silence Yoongi’s had since he got the first bone-chilling text. Is his secret safe? Are you okay? Should he work extra late and run from a problem yet again? He’s very good at that. Running. If there was a medal for distance ran from issues, he’d be on the podium for both gold and silver.

“Okay, fine.” 

Relief is temporary. This could just be him biding his time in order to figure out what to do. Or maybe he truly doesn’t know what’s going on and Yoongi has a bit more uninterrupted time with you. 

Delusion is a great place to stay.

In any case, his friend’s behavior is alarming. What’s he doing up this early? And why is he wanting to swing by so bad if not to slice him into tiny pieces? Nerves slow on the downslope, Yoongi shuts his car door and lends his ear, “But serious, are you okay?”

“I just… Tch. I can’t even say it.”

He lets his friend go through a series of small sounds on the line, pulling out of the lot and hitting the road with tire squeaks. “What’s up,” he finally pushes, looking sideways and remembering the car ride home. 

There was no way Yoongi was gonna say no to you. He didn’t in this universe, and he’d bet his whole life he doesn’t in any other one, either. Not when your wings looked like you hadn’t used them in months.    

Pained, Yoongi hopes you’re completely fine and sleeping. Tucked away in a bed that captured part of his heart, visiting him in your dreams so that some version of him can be at your side. 

“Everything, Yoong.” 

But, as it so starkly turns out, he has to deal with reality. And with the fact that you’re just as far away as you were before last night. Maybe even further out of reach. 

So, so far away. 

“There’s a ton of shit, but. Fuck. Guess we’ll have to wait.”

Right now, deal with the studio prep and get through the session that will probably take awhile. After that, meet up with your brother and hope to god he doesn’t know. “K.”

“Just lemme know when you get back.”

Then, when all of that is done, Yoongi will be alone. Staring into the night and trying his hardest not to give up on himself again. “Yeah, I will.” 

“No running.”

“K.”

When the call ends, Yoongi lets out the harshest breath he’s ever let out in his life. Hoping you went right to sleep without dealing with any of that. 

“How did that sound?” 

Looking into the recording room, Yoongi raises a thumbs up as Hoseok clicks back to the beginning of the track. At their side, Namjoon hits a button on the console before speaking into a microphone, “Y’all wanna come hear it?” 

“We can move on. Wanna get the doubling done.” 

Huh? They’re gonna move onto vocal doubling already? With a few blinks, Yoongi think it’d be better if they—

“Okay!” Jungkook agrees from the couch, cutting out any other thoughts. “If any of you need adjustments, let us know.” 

“Yeah, actually, can one of you come switch this out?” 

Joon throws a suggestion over his shoulder, but Yoongi is already heading for the booth before his name is even mentioned. 

Get everything done smooth. Stay disciplined. Be professional, goddamn it.

Entering the soundproofed room will always make him want to occupy the mic instead. That feeling hasn’t gone away, and there have been countless nights where he’s spent time just sitting in this very space, visualizing what it would be like to work on this side of the glass someday. Deep down, Yoongi knows he could be somebody. But imposter syndrome runs deep. 

Avoiding cables strewn about the room, he offers his hands without a word, taking a guitar from the lead singer and making his leave—

“Hey.” He turns. “You’re good.” 

What? Where the hell did that come from? Did he even hear this guy right or was he just daydreaming again? Yoongi’s so thrown he can only stare with question marks for eyes. 

Amused, the singer simply points to the side of his beaming countenance. “You have an ear.” 

Huh. How the hell can this dude tell? All Yoongi’s done is indicate if a recording take was good or not, and given a few minuscule suggestions to the keyboardist and guitarist—instruments he’s well-versed in. 

Yet again, he’s so in his head that the man outright laughs, “Relax! You can talk to us like normal, you know. None of us care about etiquette shit.” 

“Shit, my bad,” Yoongi finally responds, instrument in his hands proving a little lighter. “Thanks.” 

“Of course.” Swishing long bangs to the side, the performer rests a hand on his hip. “We’re open to anything. We’d just tell you if your opinion sucks.” 

Eyes creasing with his lips, Yoongi puffs out a laugh. 

“Kidding. Only a little.”

Even though these people are world-renowned, they’re the first humble group to run through the studio. Everyone else has been either cocky, standoffish, or super opinionated, which made for unproductive hours.

Yoongi likes this change of pace. His shoulders start to feel composed, less scrunched than they had been since you left his place this morning. Comforted, he looks down at the guitar in his fingers.

Choosing not to say what he wants to. 

Should he? Nah. These guys know what they’re doing. Despite the nice offer to speak up, it’s not his place. Far from it. 

…But what would you tell him to do? What would you be proud of?

Committed to his answer, Yoongi grips the neck and decides without another thought, 

“Do the chorus again.” 

The whole studio stills. But all he’s looking at is the man in front of him, shaking his head when they ask, “Same way?” 

“Uhm. No.” As he hands the guitar back, Yoongi wordlessly checks if he can see the sheet music. When given the go-ahead, he scans the lines before pointing out a passage to note, 

“Mm. Here. Vocals are fine as is, but. Ride the build-up quicker and hit the next chord after a bit longer.” When he stops, he has to fight to ignore the eyes on him. There’s no doubt that his extended time in the recording room is being questioned, and his hand movements probably make him look stupid. “It’ll keep in time but hit harder.” 

Done. He said it. 

And the response that follows puts complete silence to shame. 

Instantly self-conscious, Yoongi swears he can hear Hobi’s pants shift in the control room through two closed doors shit he took it too far. Fuck, if these guys walk out now the studio is done for and he’ll be the only reason why—

“Well, goddamn. Let’s try that then.” 

Huh. They’re gonna take that? 

As he steps away, Yoongi feels slightly awkward doused in attention. Yeah, expressions seem like looks of approval, but they could just be polite. 

The man hums the chorus with Yoongi’s notes in mind, and his eyebrows tick a bit before he addresses the others in the room, “You heard him?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Yeah, we can try that.”

“Why didn’t you think of that, Woosung?”

Yoongi can’t keep his amusement under wraps as the singer laughs, addressing his keyboardist with a grin, “Damn, not even Sammy? Straight to Woosung, huh.”

“Sammy would’ve thought of it.”

Another bout of mirth spreads joy around the recording booth, and Yoongi shares a look with the singer before they both nod. 

“Let’s see how it sounds.” 

“K.”

Proud and adrenaline-filled, he turns to walk back to the door, head so buzzed he doesn’t know what to do. But when Yoongi can’t see into the control room anymore, he misses a stare through the glass.

A stare that lingers on him just a little too long. 

The rest of the session goes smooth, and Yoongi’s relieved that they haven’t asked him for anything else. 

After all. He doesn’t wanna push it, or step on Jungkook’s toes. What happened in the recording room only went down because you would have scolded him for not seizing that moment. And the suggestion he gave was lauded after the next take.

It was the first time since you kissed him goodbye that he felt a healthy pulse in his chest. Despite the chaos of the morning, amid the thoughts and worries penetrating his brain, you reached out and kept him steady in just the right moment. 

Fuck being his good luck charm. You give guardian angels shame and you don’t even know it. 

“Okay, we’ll take ten after this.”

Jungkook holds up an arm while agreeing, “Okay! We’ll save what we got!” 

Yoongi’s scanning the tracks when he feels hovering over his shoulder, and he already knows it’s the kid without looking. “Sup.”

“Nothing.”

“You sure.”

At this, Jungkook pauses before he sighs. “Yeah, it’s nothing,” he clearly lies. 

But Yoongi will let him figure out whether to run with that or not. He seems a little bothered about something, and it very well could be what happened in the booth. This is work, and they’re both adults. If he wants to talk about something, Yoongi will gladly have that conversation. 

Suddenly, a vibration erupts in his hoodie pocket, and his phone is fished out without him even thinking. 

Hustler: Incoming C—

Shit. You wouldn’t call him at work unless it’s urgent. Which is quickly throwing any possible theories about your brother not knowing out the window. 

But fuck, he can’t answer yet. There’s no way. Not only is he in very close range to someone you don’t wanna speak to right now, but he’d get blasted for being on his phone during a session. Hoping you can wait just two more minutes, Yoongi turns the buzzing off within his hoodie pocket, anxiously waiting for the take to start. 

Hoping to everything that Jungkook didn’t happen to see what was on his screen. 

As soon as everyone looks pleased—three takes and thirty minutes later—Yoongi quickly excuses himself from the control room. His head practically overheats on the way out back, but the gust of morning breeze serves to soothe it some. 

It’s been chilly lately. A bit grey. But whatever the weather has been outside, it’s no match for the atmosphere of his brain. 

Pulling his hood over hair he hasn’t cut in months, Yoongi looks around before ringing you up. Hoping that you’re good and didn’t have to go through a version of his panic earlier. 

Hustler: Outgoing Call 

Straight to voicemail? Shit.

Hustler: Outgoing Call

Fuck, still voicemail. Are you okay? On the phone with someone else? Did your brother actually end up finding out and things are worse than he thought? Clutching his phone, Yoongi glances up while giving it slight shakes, body on alert while deciding what the hell to do now. 

Maybe he can at least text you to ask what the hell happened this morning? Typing. Erasing. Retyping. Retrying. 

Yoongi [9:02]: Got a session today, doll. 

That’s what he had to say? That won’t do you any good, the fuck? Berating himself with a sigh, he takes a few steps while texting a follow-up. 

Yoongi [9:03]: Still going, but are you good?

Staring, it takes him a few seconds to decide if this is enough. If these two messages are gonna suffice to help him figure out what the hell he’s getting into later. 

It’s not. There’s too much he needs to know. 

Hustler: Outgoing Call 

When it doesn’t ring a third time, Yoongi gives up, cursing before turning and raking his hood off in distress.

Only to see Woosung materializing out of nowhere—relaxed, silent, and taking a drag. 

Shit. How much of that did he witness?

“Been there,” the man empathizes, blowing out smoke into crisp morning. After a swell of early traffic fills the alleyway, he continues, “In trouble?”

Great. With a sound of dejection, Yoongi answers to a stack of random boxes, “Might be.” 

“Don’t wanna commit anymore?” 

“I do,” Yoongi blurts without hesitation, looking right into eyes that have seen plenty more than he has. 

And it’s the first time he’s admitted anything out loud. To a stranger miles above him in status, no less. Hands stuffed in his pockets, he clarifies, “It’s just… There’s something I need to do first.” 

Wait a sec. Why the fuck is he talking about this so freely? This isn’t something he does. Privacy is practically his brand. So why is it easy to talk to this guy? It’s him, for fuck’s sake. But what’s done is done. Woosung probably won’t even remember this conversation even happened, or is already annoyed as hell he didn’t get a good read on him. 

To Yoongi’s surprise, his alley companion speaks again after another white wisp. “Mmm… Something you need to do?”

Well. Yoongi walked right into this one. Swallowing and knowing he can’t dip out, he sighs, “Some shit I wanna finish.” The smell of tobacco wafts around him when he looks at dulled skies. “Shit I need to get through.” 

An amused hum floats through empty space. “Been there, too.” 

Yoongi slowly turns to regard his client, watching as Woosung becomes very interested in wet concrete.

What kind of shit has this guy seen? Surely, he could have had some of the same experiences. The slight droop in his confident shoulders tells enough. But would he understand the exact same situation? 

No. At least, Yoongi hopes not. Quite fucking frankly, he hopes no one has had to go through the same shit that he has. 

“Let me know if you ever need help,” Woosung offers, shocking Yoongi to the point of speechlessness. As he drops his cigarette to squash it out, he runs a hand through wild dark locks. “We’ll be around again.” 

Wait. What? Yoongi can only blink. “Serious?”

“Yeah.” The man looks down the outside corridor, watching as people start heading to their jobs through a central courtyard. “Got a good feeling about this place.”

What does he mean by that. What can Woosung possibly mean by that what does he mean they’ll be back? To the studio? To the city? What’s happening. Yoongi simply lets a pause prevail before offering the only response he’s capable of,

“It’s the food next door, huh.”

That laugh has got to be top five in the world. Not as great as yours, but definitely up there in terms of what makes Yoongi feel like things are alright. Not that he’d ever admit that shit to anyone. Ever.

Mercifully, the conversation moves away from risky topics. Instead, there are talks about a tour one is planning for his band’s album, mixed in with mentions of equipment the other is saving up for. Then the rest isn’t about music at all.

Finally, it’s time for them to continue recording, so they know to head back inside. “Don’t wait,” Woosung advises as he turns on his heel. 

And Yoongi can only stare somewhere else. 

“If there’s something you need to get through...” 

Stare, and stare, and stare some more.

“Hit it until it breaks.”

Because he’s already aware. More than anyone.

As Woosung shuts the back door, Yoongi’s gaze finds the crushed cigarette at his side. Another reminder of how things were.

And a reminder that he’s still a fucking coward.

Hours later, Yoongi’s car awaits him in the lot. 

And when he realizes that you still haven’t responded, he shuts his door just a little too hard. 

Whenever his friend comes over for drinks, it’s always the same routine. 

Both of them don’t talk much, instead opting for a quiet greeting before someone dumps themselves on the couch while the other grabs a bottle and cups in the kitchen. As soon as glasses are filled, conversation sparks as a game plays out on tv—or a sportscasting show if nothing interesting is airing. 

But this time? None of it happens that way. Because when Yoongi opens his door, he’s pinned with a shadowed visage he's only seen piercing through others. 

And the whole arctic starts to seep into his bloodstream.

Raising a brow and giving space is his chosen course of action. Best to not disturb a beast if they’re already ready to lunge.

And his friend eyes him as he stalks into the house, scanning around in search of something—living room, dining table, even looking into the open doorway of the bedroom. 

Fuck. Relax. Don’t assume anything until things are on the table. Yoongi has got to pretend like tonight is normal and fine and that he’s obviously and positively not seeing and sleeping with his friend’s little sister. 

And that he most definitely didn’t eat you out where your brother is sitting now motherfucker he needs a drink. Or a smoke. Or both with a plane ticket out of the whole country. 

At least the television is already on. If it wasn’t for that ambiance, Yoongi’s head would be jam packed with every goddamn sound known to man. Including the adorable way you talk in your sleep, and how you strain so beautifully when you come fuck, fuck, fuck! Focus. 

What’s happened has happened. And what’s going to happen will happen. Whether it’s a consequence of his actions, or nothing to do with any of this at all. 

But when faced with everything smushing together at once? Yoongi will probably need to be revived no matter what the outcome. This is the most stressed out he’s been in years. 

Not only that, but his stress is more than obvious. Even now in the kitchen, he’s scanning through his bottles with a finger—an action he’s never done while sober since the choices are always predictable. Holy shit, he needs to pull it together. 

Has he ever been this panicked? Does he appear just as chaotic and disjointed as he feels? This is too new. This is very new and if he doesn’t regain control there’s no telling where this foreign road leads.

But the silence still remains as he turns. And apparently the road hits a dead end at his dining table. Since it’s occupied rather than the living room sofa. 

Sighing, Yoongi ambles to his friend, placing everything down with clinks and ignoring the way his furniture is getting burned through. Both whisky’s are ready. Yoongi’s already holding his. And your brother still hasn’t moved a muscle. Honestly, what the fuck is going on with—

“I went to Jimin’s last night.”

…What. 

Don’t react. He’s staring. Don’t fucking react. Take a drink. A sip. Pick up the goddamn glass. Doing so, Yoongi slowly brings the liquid to his lips, not quite following his own instructions as he asks behind a barrier, “How was it.”

His question is met with a laugh that isn’t funny at all. The kind that drags a finger along the chalkboard of your soul. And the next question directed his way pulverizes Yoongi’s denial,

“Care to share what’s been going on?”

He’s sick. Beyond sick. The room is closing in and closing in too fucking fast. Shit shit shit. There’s no way he saw. No fucking way. He parked down the street he deliberately stopped as far away as possible and you saw your brother’s car in your driveway. Did he get there after you left? And didn’t see you while also not hearing from hi—

“Why her, Yoong? Hmm?”

Fuck! 

Yoongi can’t feel the air in his lungs. Because there isn’t any. Just a barren wasteland of shriveled futures and cracks in the foundation of every relationship he’s had in his whole life. The millisecond before a crash and only his wheels spinning and spinning and spinning—

Your brother shoots out of the chair, making the glass in Yoongi’s palm feel infinitely more solid.

“I mean, fuck! After all the shit we’ve been through? You’re gonna go back to her?”

All the—shit, he can’t even—back to? Back to you? What does he mean by back to you? Does he know about the first ti—

Volcanic, the man interrogating paces beside the dining table. Back and forth, back and forth. A pause. Back and forth.

And Yoongi still feels frozen in time. Is this it? Is this when things come crashing down? Glass suspends in midair all around him; an orchestra trembles beneath his feet, waiting for the moment to rip into his rib cage with swift strokes and a flourish as he’s taken down. 

“Can’t fucking believe you.”

When Yoongi finally chooses to speak, what comes out only feels like a horrible attempt more than anything else, “Listen, it’s my fau—”

“What, you just decided to fuck that bitch again? Couldn’t stay away?”

Oh, fuck that. 

Wood scrapes into flooring as Yoongi vacates his chair, hard feet planted as he gets into the face of his best friend, his confidant, his day one. Only to speak so low only them two can hear, “How bout you use your fucking words already and I’ll tell you.”

“Yeah? Is that what you want?” They are only a breath apart. But no one’s going anywhere now. “Need me to spell it out for that fuckass brain of yours—”

“Say it—”

“Stop fucking your ex, dude!”

Yoongi’s back connects with the chair behind him, palms flinging back to brace himself through a jolt of pain. And his eyes go so wide they stretch at the edges.

…Motherfucker, what?

Your brother is not done in the slightest, but Yoongi can only stare as he’s being berated for something that is one-hundred percent news to him, too. 

“Everyone was happy when you finally left. All of us. Only for you to go and, what, get back with her?”

Nothing makes sense. This isn’t about you? Yoongi’s heart can’t even reset to start beating again. Everything is coming as shock after shock and there’s no way he can keep up at this pace.

His ex? Her? Where the fuck did that come from and why the hell does he of all people think that’s actually true?

“If you’re gonna be with her, you can count me out.” 

No. Never again. That would never, ever happen again. “The fuck are you even saying—”

“I’m not fucking joking, Yoong. If you’re seriously back with her then—”

“Look, I don’t know what the fuck you heard, but I’m not.”

“So everything I heard was a lie?”

“Huh?”

“He told me!”

He—who? Who the fuck would say that? And when how what the fuck and why? Yoongi stares, chest heaving with every inhale and exhale. Because he has a choice to make. Either he trudges into this lie and rubs sludge all over his bones, or he denies it like he wants because it’s not fucking true.

What the actual fuck. It’s already bad enough that someone sent this along the rumor mill. And it’s making him sick thinking about all the implications surrounding it. But it’s even worse that his best friend believes it so easily. He’s coming at him so quick without even asking if it’s true. 

The only silver lining—the singular bright spot in this hellhole—is that he can use it as an out. An out to protect you from wrath and further fury from your older sibling because if you were the rumor? He’d be laid flat on his floor next to a broken dining set.

“You gonna say anything or what?” 

Truthfully, Yoongi feels queasy knowing what he’s gonna do. But it’s for you. You, you, you. And for that, Yoongi will do anything. 

Even if it kills him.

“No, I, umm…” 

“No?” 

Just hurry up and fucking do it. 

Resigned, Yoongi lets the memories flood through. Every moment that’s haunted him from a distance charges forward as he surrenders to the pain of his past. “It’s—” Fuck, he can’t even begin to lie, head thundering, thundering, striking his heart in the rain. “I...” 

His friend halts. Tense before his shoulders fall back to normal. “You what.”

What the fuck does Yoongi do? What can he say when his brain is only firing up to beg him to run? Technically, he doesn’t have to say anything. He really doesn’t. But he can deflect. It’s what he’s best at, after all. He’s been doing it to you and he will do it again.

In the most defeated voice he can muster, Yoongi comes up with something that will placate his friend while still prolonging this horrid fib, “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.” 

“You sure?”

It’s true. More true than anything. “It’s over now.” 

A century passes. Then another. Then another. Every piece of furniture waits in silence as the television seeps back into his ears. 

Then his friend sighs, not looking back as he slumps into the same chair that you always occupy. And Yoongi hopes his sigh of conflicted relief isn’t witnessed. 

Following suit, he rubs his lower back before taking his regular seat again, not giving any shits about waiting to drink. 

His ex? 

As his throat warms, Yoongi starts to harden the more memories keep crashing into each other like jagged waves fuck he really hates how she was brought into this he swears as soon as he figures out who said this he is going to—

“Sorry.” Haze shattered, he lifts his gaze. “I’m so fucking stressed and hearing that last night just…”

“It’s done.” Yoongi reaches for the thick bottle, pouring more into his glencairn. Wanting to talk about literally anything else, he diverts the conversation, “But something else is up with you so say it.”

It works. The man inhales deep, rubbing his face with weary hands. When he rests elbows on wood, he finally talks about other things clouding his mind,

“Work is shit,” he groans downward. “They’re having me travel again.” 

“Domestic?”

“Yeah. But for longer. And I don’t…” Tapering off, he sits back, slowly playing with his glass. As if he doesn’t want to mention the next problem. 

When he finally does, Yoongi wholeheartedly understands the hesitation, “I dunno know what’s going on with my sister.”

Oh. Fuck, how the hell does he respond? Keeping his cool, Yoongi just repeats the question, taking out his phone and pretending to check his screen. “Your sister?”

“Yeah.” A sigh is sandwiched between explanations. “The past few months, I feel like.. They haven’t really been themselves.” 

A sudden crack splits him through.

“Not laughing. Not eating as much. Like even when they sound happy, I can tell it’s a front.. I don’t know.” 

The clunk of his phone hits the table very hard. 

No. No, no, no. Your texts have been so positive. So encouraging. Other than a few sad calls, you’ve been happy to hear from him just as he had been relieved to hear from you. Even in the car, you must’ve put your feelings lightly. 

Your wings. You’ve been enduring all that? For him? Yoongi’s heart rears its head, snagging one of his breaths and slamming both lungs into the floor.

And hatred paints his heart another shade darker.

“They finally went out last night, but. Didn’t come back until this morning.” Running rigid hands through his head, the man looks so pained. So helpless. “Same clothes, dude.” 

And Yoongi can only stare, feigning nonchalance but raging and tearing himself apart inside. “Mm.”

“I just… I know I suck at this, but. I don’t know what the hell to do. Or if I even do anything.” Your brother finally takes a swig, wincing at how much ethanol coats his tongue. 

Relax, relax, relax. As much as he wants to erupt on himself right now, Yoongi has to stay calm.

Not like he doesn’t know how. That’s usually how he operates, anyway. It’s hard to tell he’s struggling unless you look deep enough. And almost no one thinks to do so because his surface is all they want. 

But right now? He doesn’t think he can sequester this anger any longer. At him, his past, and his stupid present decisions. 

“Like I tried to say something but I just.. I felt like if I push too hard, they’re gonna shut down even more. Ever since that fight with Kook, it’s like..” 

Seeing an opening and keeping a neutral stance, Yoongi asks the most ironic question to date, “Are they seeing someone?”

At this, his friend shakes his head, eyes glued to dark amber liquid. When he answers, all the breaths in the world cut at once, 

“I think she feels all alone.” 

This hit is the strongest. Straight to the gut, breath stuttering and muscles clenching so hard they lock. It’s almost severe enough to affect how Yoongi feels around his eyes. 

“And it sucks not knowing what to do.”

Yoongi’s heart lurches, deflating and slipping out of the crack in his chest. Piercing on the jagged edges before slumping down onto a table that continues to judge him.  

You’re hurting. Your brother’s hurting. And it’s all his goddamn fault. Why can’t he just break free and admit shit? Why is he still haunted by the phantoms of his past? Why is he still so fucking weak? It’s clear that he hurt you. For months. You’ve been cheering for him that whole time while you’ve been visibly broken and it’s all because of his dumbass decision to—

“I’m heading out again.”

Yoongi raises his eyes. Because he can’t seem to move anything else. “When.”

Your older sibling takes a slower, more measured sip. Looking towards the channel playing in the living room, he answers, “After our game. Dinner Friday, game on Saturday, fly out Sunday.” 

“Mm. We’ll still be here,” Yoongi assures, keeping things as normal and neutral as he can. “Just like last time.”

How ironic. How hypocritical. He hasn’t been there for you in the slightest so how the fuck can he say that with a straight face. 

“Thanks. I know it’s a lot for y’all but..”

Not at all. Yoongi is more determined than ever to make everything up to you. It’s the least he can do after putting you through something he decided on the fly. 

On the run.

“Don’t worry about that,” he vows into his drink. Honestly, if you’ve been having second thoughts about this whole thing, he doesn’t blame you. Absolutely doesn’t blame you if you realize you’re better than this. But Yoongi’s at least gonna apologize in every single way he can. As soon as he possibly can. “We got it.” 

“K.” The man finishes his glass and goes to pour more. “Did I ever mention that she liked you?”

Now what— Coughing on whisky is a bitch and a half. Hitting his chest while both eyes squint from burn, Yoongi croaks out his exact thoughts, “What.”

At this, his friend finally breaks into his regular smile. Setting the bottle down with a hollow clunk, he points, “Don’t you fucking get any ideas. Jimin’s already on my shit list.” He scoffs out a laugh. “But it was obvious when we were younger.”

And Yoongi can only cough some more. He shakes his head through the sting, swallowing and trying to compose himself. He doesn’t know where the hell that came from, but he hopes your brother will understand when all is said and done. Even though he’s been the reason you’ve been so…

Yoongi almost fucking confesses.

“You’re a good person,” he blurts instead. Whether the guilt or last cough pushed it out, that’s still on the table. “You don’t suck at what you think you do.”

“You think so?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

The hell? Does this dude really not see how successful he is? How much he’s overcome and conquered and sacrificed? Truthfully, Yoongi wouldn’t be where he is today if not for your brother. Him. Jimin. You. Anybody. Which is what makes this ongoing betrayal… 

Unprecedented.  

“You’re the best out of all of us.” 

Your brother finally looks at him, though Yoongi isn’t doing the same. But he can still tell when a fist is held out for him to bump, so he does.

And they both share a drink in respectful silence. 

After a moment of them watching the tv, the man finally sighs. “Guess we did shape up pretty nice.” When he’s agreed with, he keeps going with a grin. “We were so fucking bad.”

Yoongi can only chuckle, much better memories fighting off the terrors. “Old me was a little shit.”

“You still are.”

“Says you!”

“I still am, too!”

Laughs precede big swigs of whisky and comfortable quiet. Bit by bit, shoulders start to relax with the surrounding air, and Yoongi lazily releases tension in his neck. 

After a few more pours, your brother decides to call it, using the bathroom before announcing that he’s gonna head out. Yoongi gets up from his chair to clasp hands goodbye, not expecting to hear one more plea,

“Break up with her, Yoong.” 

Shit. He sighs, and their conversation continues from the dining table to the front door. “It’s not like that.” 

“Yeah?” 

“It’s over now.” 

“For good?” As they stop beside the coat closet, your brother pins him with a look. “I was about to drive over and break down the door.”

Even though Yoongi shares a tsk with him, he can’t help but imagine what could’ve happened if that was the case. And it sends an unwanted jolt of chills. 

“Serious. I’m gonna keep saying this, but. she was just making you miserable, dude.” He slips on his shoes, smacking his foot on the ground to push one in place. “I’m sure it was good at first, but I mean… You gotta move on. You deserve better than that.” 

Anything would be better than that. Yoongi just disagrees with the whole deserving part. “I guess.” 

“You sure it’s over?”

“Yeah,” he assures, because that is something he intends to keep true forever. “It is.” 

“Good.” Keys jingling, your sibling then points into the open area with his whole arm, seven words leaving his mouth like ice, 

“Then get rid of that fucking guitar.” 

Ah. Among all the things. Of course he would bring that up, too. Jaw working, Yoongi looks away, now assaulted by all the torturous thoughts surrounding that painful reminder and fighting them off with no success. 

Get rid of it? He’s been trying. 

For three. Fucking. Months. 

“I might.” 

“…K.” 

And his best friend departs, leaving Yoongi inside and staring at the same black spot he’s kept in the corner for years. It has mocked him as he struggles. Laughed at him whenever he’s tried to throw it out. And aside from the times he’s made you feel better stinging himself on those strings, he has accomplished nothing except letting it win.

Pissed off and doused in guilt, Yoongi yanks himself away from the door, the instrument, and everything else except for his bed.

Keeping his shadow exactly where it stands. 

Yoongi knows he needs to talk to you.

But his phone exists somewhere on the other side of his bedroom door.

And he doesn’t have the strength to go get it. 

What time is it? 

All that greets him is darkness. 

Nothing new, but darkness all the same. 

Why was she mentioned? What does that mean? 

He needs to call you. He’s lying to his best friend. 

Her? You. His sheets still smell like you. 

Inhale. Breathe. Inhale. 

He needs to call you. But he’s so, so tired. 

And the darkness pulls him back under. 

Without even telling him the time. 

Buzzing. 

Faint, gentle buzzing softly lifts Yoongi’s eyelids before a loud series of smacks causes him to rush out of bed what the fuck? 

Oh. His phone fell outside. Fucking hell, his heart’s beating way too quick for that to be the only thing that happened. 

Head in his hands, Yoongi sighs deep before making his way to the dining table. And it takes all of his strength to bend down to reach for his phone. 

Hustler: Missed Calls (6)

Dumbass: 1 Message

Hustler: 3 Messages 

Chim: 7 Messages   

Chim: Missed Calls (3) 

Holy fuck. 

With only the light of his phone illuminating the dark, Yoongi rings Jimin up. His heart’s a little disappointed it wasn’t you calling just now, but it’s probably best to stay away while his brain is so scattered and torn. 

“Oh, fuck. There you are.” 

“Mm.” 

“Don’t scare me like that, bro. I was starting to get ready to drive over—” 

“It’s fine,” he juts in. “What’s up.” 

Alright, maybe he shouldn’t be an asshole. There’s no reason to let his lingering shadow from earlier control his temper now. Jimin’s just being himself, for fuck’s sake. 

“I, umm. I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” 

Now that’s not what Yoongi expected at all. “For what?” 

There’s another pause on the line, and his reaction is immediate when he knows for a fact Jimin is fighting back tears. 

“I… I got so drunk last night, I—And I—”

Shit. A sinking feeling starts to weigh Yoongi down, his center pulling the rest of him in like a black hole. And he doesn’t need to hear the rest of this to know what this call is about. 

“He was looking for her, Yoong, and you weren’t there, either. He had this look, I—I couldn’t think of anything else to say in the moment and I told him—”

Jimin can’t even finish his confession. And it hits right in the gut. 

Despite his perceived persona, Yoongi doesn’t like hearing people cry. At least, if they don’t deserve to or don’t deserve to be sad—or if they’re you. He could care less about the rest.

But Jimin is one of the only people that can get him like this: eyes stinging at their edges and his chest concave. In the dark, though, no one can tell. No one can see him.

So he can openly swipe at his eyes before dumping tired limbs into a chair, catching his forehead in a damp palm. 

“I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.” 

Exhaling through his nose, Yoongi tries his best to calm his emotions. Because they are still raging and it’s going to take all of him to quell this tempest. 

Jimin knows more than anyone what this means to him. To you. The time you spent apart? If it wasn’t for his friend, Yoongi may have been in a much different position. If this was the only thing Park could do, then his effort has to be acknowledged. It worked like a fucking charm.

But goddamn, Yoongi wishes Jimin thought of literally anything else. He could’ve made up some random, some fling from another city, the damn studio itself. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he finally rasps out. “It’s just been a fuckin’ day.” 

Jimin sniffles before cursing at himself and, judging by the sounds on the line, Yoongi figures he’s opening his fridge. If he reaches for soju, that would not be surprising in the least, and now that sounds like a good idea.

“Same. Gah, I just… I should’ve warned you. I didn’t know he went over there.” 

“He told you?” 

“I called him after you didn’t answer earlier.” 

“Oh. Yeah, I passed out after he left.” 

“Ah.” 

Something shuts before there’s a crisp clink on the line, validating exactly what Yoongi was thinking. 

“I really am sorry. What did you end up saying?” 

“That it’s done.” 

A hum. 

“That’s very true.” 

There’s a question that Yoongi thinks to ask. Context that he needs. But as important as this information is, Yoongi doesn’t feel like talking about it right now. Or ever. But now still counts. So he switches the conversation over to something less daunting, “Practice still on tomorrow?” 

When Jimin laughs out of surprise, it gives Yoongi the smallest kick of energy.

“Ah, someone actually ready to go for once?” 

“Yeah. The plan is to make this game quick.” 

A hearty swallow spills out of the speaker before a hum follows, 

“Mm, that reminds me. Got something that might help with that.” 

What the hell does that even mean? “Huh?” 

“I’ll bring it over tomorrow. You might find some good uses for it.”

Yoongi rubs the grogginess still clinging to his face. “All these years and you’ve never given me a straight answer.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” 

“Knowing the answer.” 

At least Jimin’s back in a good mood. Or a better state than puffy-eyed and regretful. He doesn’t have to share the pain in this, too. It was an honest mistake. 

“You’ll know it when you see it.” 

“Annoying.”

“Love you, too!” 

Yoongi’s huff billows through his nose, and Jimin’s energy almost brings enough strength for him to clear the table. 

Ehh. He’ll leave it alone. He’s been pretty good at that lately, too, no matter how early or late it is in the night. What time even is it? Checking his phone, Yoongi’s brows crease when he figures that out. Why the hell are they even on a call right now? “Wait, is it really three?” 

“Huh? Yeah. I’m telling you, dude, I was getting worried.” 

He was really about to drive over? “Sorry. I really did just pass out.” 

“Mm. Well, I’m gonna go do that now.” 

“K. Same time tomorrow?” 

“Ah, a little earlier. Just so I can give this to you before everyone else shows.” 

That just makes Yoongi infinitely more curious. “Seriously, what did you get?” 

“Relax! You will like it.” 

“Chim, I swear—”

“You’ll thank me later bye!”

As soon as Jimin disappears from the line, Yoongi is left alone again.

Exactly where he always ends up. 

Exactly where he doesn’t want to be. 

But now that he’s done dealing with those notifications, Yoongi roams lidded eyes over his screen again. 

Wait. You called him six times? Fuck. What did you text? Were you wondering where he was, too? 

Hustler [20:01]: HOLY FUCK!! my phone died after i tried calling you this morning and i just fully woke up to charge it😭 he’s not home so call whenever  

Yoongi clutches his phone a little tighter. 

He very much would’ve rather been in your bed with you all day. 

That sounds like fucking bliss. 

Hustler [23:37]: tried calling but he’s home now. are you ok?? idk what’s going on with him but i think we need to be careful

Shit, Yoongi didn’t get to tell you. You’ve probably been worried about that every second you’ve been awake today. 

And he couldn’t even make it out of his goddamn room to help. 

All he comes with is worries for you. What kind of shit is this? What is he even doing? He even outright told you that you were dating only for that to be ripped from your hands for months. Why are you still giving someone like him a chance? 

Hustler [23:40]: but all i wanna do is see you

Fucking hell.

Nothing in the world can stop his heartbeat quite like you can. With that smile, or those eyes, or the simple shit like this. Not even lightning can strike him the same way. 

Despite the consistency Yoongi has with admitting his own shortcomings, and despite the way he keeps reminding himself he doesn’t deserve you…

All he wants to do is see you, too. 

You’ve been more than he ever would’ve imagined—your consideration, your intellect, your mind. And there have been times when you’d look at him as if he was the center of your galaxy. 

After all this time. All these days and nights. 

You still don’t realize that he was destined to orbit you.  

It’s been decided long before his mind was made up—at least, the part of him that doesn’t traverse the dark side. His heart had been tugging him to you ever since that rainy day, no matter where he’s drifted or which direction he’s gone in. All of them lead back into your arms. 

But just like the feeling he gets walking into the recording booth, imposter syndrome eats him alive and doubt scavenges on what’s left. 

He will never be good enough for you. One of these days, you will realize that you don’t have to settle for him. It’s good now, but you’ll only give him so many chances, which he is swiftly running through at breakneck speeds. 

How fucking stupid. Having these thoughts while wanting nothing more than to hear your voice. 

Just like everyone else, you’ll eventually be done passing through. His winter will return after your inevitable departure, all the warmth you give focused on something else that deserves it more. 

Something that isn’t broken. 

Yoongi whips his head up at the sound of buzzing, noticing thin lines of light beneath his phone on the table. 

What. No way. 

From the rapid beats inside his chest, he shoots his hopes right into the dark. 

And they burst into beautiful sparks when he reads his screen. 

Hustler: Incoming Call 

But just like the streaks of color he witnessed with you on that balcony, his brightness is short lived. Because as soon as Yoongi answers, the way your throat constricts scorches his windpipe through.

And the first thing you attempt to get through makes his eyes shut tight. 

“Are we… is this over?” 

Fuck.

“I get it, if we are. If you—if you don’t wanna do this with me anymore.” 

Fuck. Fuck everything this is not happening right now. “Hold up,” Yoongi breathes, body on full alert. “What’s going on?” 

“I thought… When you weren’t picking up, I—”

“Breathe, babe,” Yoongi softens, hating, hating, hating himself all over again. “I passed out before you called. That’s it.” 

“Oh. Shit, I really thought—”

“You would know,” he whooshes, syllables squeezed out by the mountain of regret on his back. After hearing what he put you through? Hearing how you sound now? There’s no way he can do that shit again. No more disappearing from the grid because he can’t fight himself. “You would know if I was done.” 

Your sniffle sinks the ship with his heart inside. 

“Are you? With me?” 

Yoongi folds, fingers digging through his hair and blocking it in hard chunks. The amount of things he wants to say to you could wrap the whole world before repeating. But he settles with a truth he can say out loud, 

“No way in hell, doll.” 

Please. Don’t cry. Because he can only handle feeling his eyes sting so much in one night. There’s only so much he can take before he’s grabbing his keys and speeding over—friends and brothers be damned. 

“Okay… I’m just. It’s been a day.” 

That’s okay. 

Because he’s had a day, too. 

“I don’t wanna bother you with it, though, it’s so late.” 

Please keep going. 

Please don’t leave him alone. 

“Talk to me.” 

Like a gentle stream, your recap—though not ideal—washes away the weariness from Yoongi’s eyes. Lifts the weight he bears on his shoulders, even if just a little bit. 

You’re so good at that. 

“Well. Umm. He saw me coming home this morning. And, umm. It was weird. I don’t know why but I think we have to be really careful. And ugh, it—. It sucks because he’s going on a trip soon and I don’t wanna stress him out even more but I—” 

Shit, you’ve probably been holding all of this in ever since you got up. You don’t know that your brother believes something entirely different. But of course you’d be considerate, even now. That’s just who you are.

“I, umm. I feel so fucking bad about it but I don’t wanna mess him up right now. Or maybe he knows but just won’t say it? Fuck, sorry, I’m trying not—to—”  

The phone goes mute, and Yoongi’s head suddenly weighs ten times heavier. 

“He doesn’t know, babe,” he soothes, hating how he can’t be there to comfort you with more than his word and waves in the sky. 

If he was stronger, things could be different by now. Vastly different. Vastly better. You would cry less, he knows that for damn sure. Weak, weak, weak. That’s all he fucking is. 

The only one he seems to be strong for is you. “He came over earlier.” 

“Fuck, really?” 

“Yeah.” 

You pause, seemingly to roll this information around that beautiful mouth of yours, and Yoongi has the strongest yearning to kiss all your worries right out of it. 

“What did he say?” 

Shit. You’ll just have to forgive him later. Because Yoongi chooses not to tell the whole truth. You don’t need to bear the same worries as him, anyway. They aren’t yours. He will shoulder all of those on his own. Because he’s the reason for them in the first place. “Nothing about us.” 

“Oh, thank fuck.” 

Good. Your relief is all that matters. But Yoongi still feels bad for not being able to pick himself up. You could’ve known that a lot sooner if he was stronger. If he was better. “So don’t worry, doll.” 

“Okay. What about you? Are you okay?” 

Huh? Your questions catch him completely off-guard. It’s almost comical how his first reaction goes straight to a No. But sticking to his earlier stances, he won’t bother you with any of that. There is a truth that he can admit. One that’s always true and will continue to be so. “Just wanna see you.” 

And this is when his eyes slowly shut. Don’t. Don’t cry.

“Me, too, baby.” 

Hearing that? Chipped and broken from your lips? That is another thing Yoongi can’t handle. His heart beats once before it free falls, and he clutches his phone just a little tighter. 

Fuck everything. He’s gonna find a way to do this. All of it.

“I’ll figure it out.”

“You will?”

He’ll figure out how to move mountains to make it up to both you and your brother. 

“Just a little longer.”

He has to.

“Okay.”

Neither of you deserve this. And he doesn’t deserve either of you. Truly, the only thing he deserves is to be alone. And judging by the way things are going, it’s only a matter of time before you start resenting this behavior and leave, too. 

“Thank you.”

What? Something in Yoongi flickers, and he lifts his whole head to eye his screen. 

“For putting up with me.”

Oh. Of course you’d assume you’re the issue. Seems like you need the same type of assurance that he does. Both of you the same? Who would’ve thought his bruised soul would sync up with a perfect one like yours. 

At this, he holds his breath before chuckling soft. “This has been the highlight of my day, doll,” he admits, finally breaking into a tiny smile and sitting back.

“Really?”

Wait. There was another good part of his day. But he wants to save that for when he can tell you in person. “One of them. But you’ll hear about the other one later.”

“Boo.”

Cute. Wait, isn’t it absurdly late? You have to be up for work in mere hours. It’s a miracle you reached out when you did. “Don’t you have to be up soon?”

“A ha… Yeah.” 

“What are you still talking to me for?” 

“I miss you.” 

Well. That’s not something that he expected. And your admittance being so immediate actually sends shivers down his arms. 

Yoongi can only laugh to himself. He knew he had it bad, but this feeling is something else. “Don’t do that.” 

“Don’t do what? Miss you? Yeah, right.”  

God. You’re getting too fucking good at this. He’s gotta fight back or else his throne will be taken before he even sees you again. “Just a bad night to say it, doll.” 

“Why?” 

Perfect. “Cus I’m willing to get in the car.” 

“Fuck.” 

Yoongi happily lets his mouth slant when you groan, chuckling into the receiver and getting up to clear the table. When he flicks on the kitchen light, he doubles down, “Wanna try again?” 

He knows you’re gonna say no. Even though your brother doesn’t know, it’s definitely not a proper time to sneak you out—as much as he fucking wants to. Fuck, to be the one sneaking you out of your house… Maybe there’s another version of you both out there that’s done it. A version of him watching a version of you creeping out to his car, face shining in nightfall and etching a permanent smile into his heart.

“I hate you.” 

Yoongi should’ve expected that. The sudden laugh that flings out into his liquor cabinet ricochets off multiple bottles, and he shuts it while sporting a wide grin. “That’s better.” 

“Ha ha.” 

You’re smiling, too. Cute ass. Just the fact that he knows makes him excited for the future, and he’s determined to make it count. Make it worth it. You deserve every goddamn apology he can give. “I miss you, too, babe,” he whispers, grabbing the glasses from the table to wash in his sink. 

“Nu uh! You hate me, too.” 

Wait. Did you…

Did you just pout? 

Hell no, that’s outright cheating. That’s when Yoongi will never be able to win. Putting the phone down, he promptly states his new plan into a basin, “Nah, I’m going to sleep.” 

“Wait, huh? Why!” 

“Nothing.” 

“I swear to god—” 

“Nothing at all,” Yoongi lies, voice straight as he can muster while hot water runs over his hands. It’s a good kind of sting as his chilled skin adjusts, and he cleans one glass before he hears you ask in his ear, 

“Getting ready for bed? Or are you in the kitchen?” 

The smallest smile graces his face. “Guess.” 

“Kitchen.” 

The hell? “How’d you know?” 

“You’re always in there.” 

Can’t deny that. The glasses are both set to dry in the dishwasher as Yoongi’s amusement dies down, and his next comment flows out before he can think much of it, “You like to keep me in here.” 

“It does seem to be where we end up, huh?” 

“It does.” Which is fine by him. He’ll never forget all the times you’ve been in here. Your laughter and your storms, he will remember them all. 

“The world said let them cook.” 

Your giggles will be the fucking end of him one day. Fuck, he can’t wait to see you. He may even find a way to see you before the game. 

But for now, Yoongi will figure out how to talk to you, every day, no matter what. Texts, calls, whatever the fuck. The effort has got to show from now on. No more of this dark headspace shit. He needs to try harder and figure it out faster. For you. 

“Go to sleep, doll,” he huffs with full cheeks. 

After another adorable batch of sounds, you rustle on the line before sighing, 

“You better sleep, too.”

“I will.” 

With a blink, Yoongi notices two things. One, he just cleared his table and cleaned up without even thinking. And two, despite feeling like absolute shit the entire day and dreading the coming of night, falling asleep won’t be an issue. 

Because of you. It’s always you. 

Maybe there’s a way out. Maybe he can finally face it all and come out on the other side. “Talk to you tomorrow, babe.”

“I’d like that. And you’re sure he doesn’t know?”

Just like that, the demons are knocking again. Closing his eyes, Yoongi murmurs into the receiver, “I’m sure.” 

There will come a time when he will tell you. But that will be way in the future, when he is ready. For now, you’ll just have to trust that he’s telling the truth. Not the whole truth, but enough for it to calm your nerves. 

“Okay. Good night, baby.”

One more heartbeat to get him through the night. 

“Night, doll.”

When the phone cuts, Yoongi’s hand falls, his stare shifting straight to the living room. 

Right towards the corner that stares back. 

It’s been five days.

But it feels like you’ve aged twenty-eight years.

Ever since your brother confronted you—after your much needed reunion with his best friend—you’ve been floating through time. Lost. Confused. Wondering why that conversation went the way it did and gnawing at your sanity bit by bit. 

And even though Yoongi explicitly told you he didn’t say anything concerning your relationship, you still haven’t shaken that feeling. No matter where you are, who you’re with, or on a pretty Friday like this one, you feel… Strange. 

When you saw your brother waiting, you for sure thought you were gonna get grilled. It was a given you were gonna break as soon as he started asking deeper and more specific questions. The fallout was gonna happen in your own house right at your door. 

…So what in the fuck was that?

You shift your legs, the chill of the office failing to comfort you in your manufactured, building distress. 

Somehow, that version of the conversation proved much, much worse. Because now you’re spiraling trying to figure out why he just took your lie as the truth. Truthfully, you feel nauseous. And as much as you need to get some semblance of closure, you still feel hesitant. Because if he’s just biding time? He’s not just thinking about what to do with you. 

He’s thinking about what to do with Yoongi, too. 

This is so hard. 

The only thing—the only thing—keeping you grounded. Is Yoongi himself. 

Ever since the call you never thought he’d answer, you’ve been contacted every night. What was once days of radio silence quickly shifted to him reaching out however he could, hours of the day be damned. Just last night, in fact, Yoongi sent you texts at four in the morning, and you beam just thinking about what he said so casually.  

Yoongi [3:57am]: That keyboard I told you about is fucking dope. Just got it today and it won’t let me sleep lmaooo

Yoongi [3:58am]: I was gonna say sorry for texting but fuck it you’re getting all the updates :) 

No matter what it is, be it a text, call, or video chat, Yoongi seems fully committed and in the moment. Present. And it’s been… Really nice. If you didn’t have your brother’s shadow hovering over your brain, life would be practically perfect. 

Forcing yourself to actually work, you manage to get some small things done. Even the meeting you attend goes smoothly and you leave any outside worries on the other side of those glass walls.

So when you get back to your desk, an awaiting paper bag makes you pause. And your whole body prepares to weep.

Only one person has ever sent you food while you’re at work. And staring inside the parcel, you would’ve been able to tell who it was from even if said person had never sent any before.

There’s a small note on top of a to-go container—one that you immediately recognize as that super good restaurant next to Jungkook’s studio. 

What the hell? How did Yoongi know you wanted some this whole week but didn’t wanna risk being so close? With careful fingers, you pluck the tiny paper from the bag, opening it with care before your eyes get so teary eyed you can’t even read.

Tonight.  

This man.

I got the next one.

This wonderful, charming man. 

But you’re getting what I need so here’s the list:

Goddamn it, Min Yoongi. 

Seeing an actual list of food squeezes a laugh through your throat in a squeak, tears rushing out of your ducts before they’re hastily swiped. 

After five days. Yoongi really just sent you on a grocery run to surprise you with another meetup.

The gesture is so him that you cannot help but shake your head, ruefully huffing to no one and pocketing the note in your bag. And all your worries scatter even further. 

A dinner before the big game is risky, for sure, but at this point you couldn’t care less. Your brother has his own work outing tonight, anyway, and you are dead set on breaking all of this to him soon.

Even though you are very much unprepared. And he is going to lose his fucking mind if he doesn’t know already. Fuck.

You’ve had all five days to think it over. All the possible combinations and possibilities and outcomes. Some of them are extreme, some of them are hopeful. But for a majority of these projections, you have a feeling that none of you are gonna leave it without wounds. 

And you don’t know how you’re gonna save both of them if theirs are cut too deep. 

Regardless, that’s in the future. Not now. Right now, you are staying in the present and working like molasses until you can jet out the door, nary a care nor concern weighing on your heels.

Tonight. He’s gonna cook for you?

You’ll have the first substantial meal you’ve had in months.

Even though you want nothing more than to see Yoongi, your nerves are still buzzing and bumping into each other nonstop. There’s a lot you still need to know. Like why he was radio silent for months, and why your brother has been a little weird this whole week. 

Save it for later. Hopefully Yoongi will tell you why eventually. Or that gap will stay elusive to your brain forever.

Sliding into your car, you dump your bag in the passenger seat before pulling out the list, clutching it close and taking a leap that could either calm your nerves or spike them. 

Yoongi: Outgoing Call 

When he picks up, you legitimately don’t answer. Because even after all this time, you still can’t quite function when you hear that deep voice addressing you directly. 

“Hey.” 

All you have to do is say something. Anything. You could rattle off the damn list, stumbling over all the syllables just like they’re currently smushed together in your fingers. 

But you don’t snap out of this trance until he speaks again. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi,” you squeak out, clearing your throat while watching other people walk to their cars. “Hi, sorry. I just umm.” 

You just what? Somehow lost all sense of language just from him saying hi? Get it together. Stop that racket in your stomach and say what you were gonna say. “Thank you for the food. I’m off work now so I’m heading to the store.” 

He simply huffs a quiet laugh.

“Get whatever you want, too. Just let me know how much it is.” 

Huh. Did Yoongi just say all those words in that order? If you heard him right, forget the damn food. You’re close to speeding directly to his place and breaking down the motherfucking door. “Oh, I definitely will,” you respond with instead of hauling ass, the words pushing through your lingering smile. “And don’t worry about that, I got it.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah! I got big girl money now.” 

Yoongi laughs again on the line, fuller and closer this time. Are you on speaker? 

“It’s like that? Maybe I should work there, too.” 

“Oh, you’d hate it,” you giggle, scheming hard in your head for tonight already. Pretty bubbles in your ribs lift all your spirits. “I’m actually pretty bossy here.”

The groan that seeps through your car should be illegal. 

“That is literally what I’ve been wanting to see.” 

It’s your turn to chuckle as you finally make your way out of the parking lot, heading right to the market that you know for a fact has all of what he’s asking for. “I’m only that way at work, though.” 

“Do better.” 

Your immediate response makes his laugh crunchy in the speakers, and you go along with him because life is good. Life is fucking great right now. “Never mind, you’re paying. And I’m getting stuff for dessert now, too.” 

“What? Who said anything about dessert?” 

“Me,” you huff out in pride. Since he wants to see that demanding side come out so bad. With a fleeting thought, you think about what it could be like if you end up confident enough to— 

“I’m starting to regret this.”

“Regret what?”

“Everything.”

Liar! Your cheeks hurt as you look both ways before making a turn. “Can’t fool me. You’re excited.”

“I am.”

The way there was no hesitation sends shivers up your spine. But it’s partly because you thought you’d be faced with another joke or dig. Not a sudden one-eighty. Stopping at a light, you clear your throat before shyness puffs right out of it. “Well, good,” you state while checking your mirrors. “Cus I am, too.” 

“That’s a given, though.”

“Excuse you.”

Yoongi laughs before you hear the sound of cabinets, and you wonder which ones he could be touching. 

“Mm, babe. One more thing.” 

Can he stop making your heart beat two times at once? “Hmm?”

There’s a little bit of pause, followed by the clank of a pan on metal. When you hear another hum, you wonder what he could possibly—

“I think we’re out of condoms.” 

Who is out of what. If you weren’t still at a red, your foot would’ve slammed on the gas because what the fuck! All you can manage out are sounds without substance, random syllables, gibberish. Nothing is computing in your head. 

“Wait. Or are we?”

Okay, Yoongi needs to stop with that two-letter word before your behavior turns downright criminal. With as much seriousness as you can manage, you accuse, “Are you just fucking with me?”

And his response launches you forward just as the light turns green, 

“Yeah. That’s why we’re out of—”

“Alright!” you cut in, stopping stopping stopping him because for whatever reason, this conversation is too much. Despite seeing this very man naked in many, many ways, just having this talk with him is making you shier than ever before. “Guess I’ll, umm. Get those, too.”

“Nah, you don’t have to.”

“Oh. Found some?”

“No.”

Wait. If he didn’t find some why is he telling you that you don’t have to— “Oh,” you peep in realization. A very sudden, jaw dropping realization. “Goddamn it, you’re too distracting now, bye.”

And he finally breaks with laughter that’s contagious as hell. Which isn’t fair when you’re pretending to be upset with him. Even when you can’t see Yoongi, you can imagine the way his cheeks rise and his eyes crease. The way the whole room illuminates when he’s packed with happiness. 

And you want that to be the case forever. 

“You’re just lucky I’m not there with you.” 

“Yeah, you’d be annoying as hell.” 

“Damn!” 

As the market comes into view, your teeth shine as you grin, roasting this man quickly becoming one of your favorite pastimes. 

“To be fair,” you start to amend, fingers drumming on the wheel as you decide whether or not to say what you want. After deciding that there’s no wrong answer here, you softly admit, “I really do wanna get groceries with you.” 

There’s no words that come out in response. Only the slight movements of shuffling and water running and what could be more cabinets closing. But you don’t really know for sure—

“It’s gonna happen, doll.” 

You clutch the wheel.

“Cus I want that, too.”

One of these days you’re gonna see this damn cat again. 

Foot connecting with Yoongi’s door, you grunt as multiple bags burden your limbs, pride digging divots along your arms—second trips be damned. 

It doesn’t take long for him to let you in anyway, and you swoon at the way he doesn’t even ask while taking some of your baggage. But the kiss on your cheek makes your heart bang into everything between the front door and the kitchen. It’s so distracting that you barely smell the spices greeting you, too. 

“Thanks for getting all this,” Yoongi says as you both cross onto tile.  

“Of course.” Lifting the much lighter load that you have, you revel in the small thumps and thuds on his counter. Not really knowing why. “Let’s put this up before I yell at you.”

His laugh comes out in hisses while you both start reaching into bags. “For what!” 

“Sent me everywhere to find some of this shit.” 

“You could’ve asked somebody.” 

Feeling a bit silly and high off his presence already, you repeat his words in a goofy mocking tone, and the way he blows out air sends your belly fluttering. 

And just like that, things are back to normal again. No worries about your sibling, or work, or anything else looming by the door. Inside is what matters, and the whole apartment fills with jabs and jokes as groceries find their homes.

But Yoongi finds a bag you had separated from the rest, and you snap your mouth shut when he looks inside, something rising in your core when he turns to you with an eyebrow raised. And a smirk so salacious it makes you quiver. 

“What about it,” you squeak out, crumbling when he simply takes the bag and flings it through his bedroom door. “You said you—we were out, so…” 

“That’s a big box, doll,” he points out on his way to your tightly bitten lip. Mouth slicing through your sanity, he approaches you with a glint in his eyes. “Got something you wanna say?” 

“Nope,” you whoosh out oh god he looks way too hot in those sweats wait is that a growing bulge? “Although I will say it took me forever to pick out what—”

Sparks ignite your hands when your lips are claimed, launching them into his shirt and tugging him backward because you’ve been waiting way too long to kiss the shit out of him. 

And Yoongi responds in kind, pinning you to his fridge and so, very obvious that he’s been waiting for this, too. 

Heaven probably wonders how to replicate this feeling. How to imitate this treasured yearning that only he can pull from the depths of your ocean. Deep, deeper, deepest. All these kisses. Your ascending affection. 

“As much as I wanna throw you on my bed,” Yoongi jokes, pulling away and giving your cheek a light tap. “I’m taking you somewhere.” 

And you’re so thrown from the impact that your brain mini-resets. “Huh? We’re leaving?”

“Uh huh.”

Hold on. Wait. Is this what he meant when he said he’s getting the next one? You’re going out to eat? Together? No. No, there’s no way. Yoongi knows that’s the worst possible thing to do right now, as much as the idea is sending your belly in a frenzy. “Are you sure? What about dinner? Won’t people… You know.”

“It’s ready already,” he reveals. “By the door.” 

Your head snaps to where he points out, even though you can’t see through the bar. “Really?” No wonder it smells like a cooking aftermath. All those smells twirling around your head. How did you not even catch the dishes in the sink? 

But hold up, you just bought a shit ton of food! “Then what the hell was the run for?”

Yoongi blinks. Then he does it again. Expression stone still, he responds as if you were privy to his plans this entire time, “I told you to get what I needed.” 

Your turn to blink.

“And I needed food.”

This man is going to be the death of you. Affronted, your jaw hangs before you grit through a smile that betrays you, “Oh, you—” 

“So thanks,” he quips through another tilt of his lips. “Let’s go, doll.” 

The begrudged sound that leaves you makes him kick his head back on the way out the kitchen. 

“Eat.”

The container on your thighs warms you through. “Now?”

“Mm.”

“I can wait,” you assure, watching as night paints the surrounding scenery in navy and black. “We can eat together.” 

“Just a bite then.” 

Turning to Yoongi, you don’t see a change in his face as he eyes the road. The veins in his arm catch all the streetlight, and you gulp before your gaze falls to what he made. Music fills the car, and you decide that maybe you do feel a little hungry. So you listen to instruction, popping it open and being careful as you pluck a piece to try. 

There’s no denying it. This motherfucker is a chef. “Fuck, this is good.” 

Your borderline moan sends Yoongi’s shoulders bobbing, and you will never get over those low, gravelly laughs. “Sorry.” Your hand hovers over your mouth in embarrassment. “I don’t react like that unless I’m alone.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, well,” you swallow. “Course you don’t.”

A tiny peek of teeth show as Yoongi smiles, and you don’t expect what he offers next, “Just be you, doll. It’s just me.”

The next bite of food pauses on the way to your mouth. “Oh,” you murmur. “Same for you then.”

“Nah.”

“Why not?”

“Cus we wouldn’t make it to where we’re going.”

That was legitimately the worst time to put food in your mouth. Sputtering, your words come out low and chortled, “You fucker.”

His hisses are brief before he dips into silence again. As he slowly turns the wheel, you can see a glimpse of something deep in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he suddenly apologizes, swallowing as you keep your gaze. 

What is that look? Weren’t you both just having a good time? “For what, baby?” 

“Everything.” 

Your lungs flinch. This is definitely not what you expected to hear on the way to wherever the hell you’re going. “Oh.” 

Yoongi still doesn’t look your way, and with each pass of a light over his face, you catch quick snapshots of those eyes you’re still so shy of. “I, umm. I didn’t expect shit to pan out this way.” 

“It’s okay,” you whisper. 

After a slow motion of disagreement, his head falls forward just a bit. And your eyes find his hand clutching the gear shift in what you sadly think is frustration. “I’ve just thought about some things,” he starts, another song playing. “How worried you must’ve been.” 

You look forward. Because this is the part where you can’t face him. “I was. But not for the same reason as last time.” Without a hesitation of your own, your palm reaches between your seats. And you can tell Yoongi watches as you take his hand to hold. 

“I was worried about you,” you correct with softness. “It was hard because I didn’t know what to do.” Don’t fucking cry. You filled quite a few buckets already. “When you started not really saying much, I just… Hoped it was for a good reason, so. Yeah.” 

You feel your hand gently pulled, which is already enough to make you melt. But when it’s kissed, you don’t know what the hell to fucking do. 

“I’m sorry, doll,” Yoongi whispers into your skin, lips brushing with every syllable and painting a canvas of his reconcile. “I won’t leave you hanging like that again.” 

There’s a tiny fire in the back of your throat, the embers reaching your eyes just a little too aggressively. You attempt to squash the growing flames before they flare. “Oh. Umm. Thank you.” What else do you say? Yoongi’s being wonderful, but why do you feel… sad? Why is there lingering snow on your windowsill? “Were you worried?” 

“Me? Umm.” He stops at a light that he clearly didn’t want to stop at. Resting your conjoined hands on his pliant thigh, his jaw works as he observes them.

And you wonder if he thinks they slot together perfectly, too. 

“…Yeah.” 

Fuck. “About what?” 

“That you’d hate me.” 

Your heart meshes his fingers with yours. “Yoongi.” 

“Or that you shouldn’t be with someone that’s gone this much.” 

Fuck, he’s doing it again. Regressing. You’ve seen it happen in his kitchen and you’ll be damned if all that work, all that peeling, all that resolution amounted to nothing wait, wait, stop. This isn’t gonna be an overnight fix. And you have no clue what’s been happening, so just keep trying, trying, trying. 

“I’m used to people leaving,” you joke, but not really. “Like seasons.” 

He whips his head to you, and you backpedal because that probably sounded so random. You’ve got to think about filtering your thoughts a little more now that you’re getting comfortable. Yoongi says you can be yourself, sure, but you have to admit your quirks are a little out there. “I know it’s weird, but..” 

He’s quiet as the light turns green. And when you don’t finish, he admits, “I think the same.” 

“You do?” 

Your hand is brushed as a hum peppers it from above. “Mmhmm.” 

“Well.” That’s interesting. You didn’t know anyone thought about that stuff like you did. Now you wonder if there’s anywhere else your wavelengths sync, and if they’ve been syncing up all this time. “At least you come back.” 

Yoongi squeezes your hand tight before he holds it against his lips. Again. Fuck, this is a lot. You’re so wrapped up in his gesture that you don’t catch what he whispers. 

“Hmm?” 

He glances at the center console before putting your hand back on his thigh. 

“Always, doll.” 

And the fire you stepped on rages back with a vengeance. Heat and sting surrounds your eyes, and you don’t hide how you press your feelings into his skin. “Me, too.” 

If you weren’t lost in the surrounding scenery outside, you would have caught Yoongi’s look. But all you feel is his hand clutching you tight, and it breaks you down all the same. 

The rest of the drive is spent with him telling you to eat more, and a bunch of your sing-alongs to almost every song that comes on. It seems like the tiny bit of closure opened you both up, and you don’t even realize that you’ve been on the road for a really long time. 

But finally, Yoongi pulls up to a building, and you’re haphazardly rapping along to a song before you notice. Wait. What? He drove you to a rec center? 

Your fingers curl around his forearm before you even notice. “What’s this?” 

“Where we’re going.”

Hold on, you’re going inside? “Are we even allowed to be here?”

When Yoongi responds, his teeth make you shiver as he smirks. “Can’t say for sure, no.”

“Then why—”

He unlocks before you can finish, and you’re left in an empty car until he rounds the hood, coming over to your side and opening the door. You almost don’t hear what he says next, too focused on the jewelry swinging from his neck as he bends forward. 

But you catch it, and glance once more at the sight in front of you before biting your lip—in nervousness or excitement, you can’t decide.

“You comin’?”

Damn. Obviously, you want nothing more than to see him here. And it’s much too late for anyone to be around. But if something happens… Whatever. 

Your mouth finally unsticks. “If we get caught, you’re gonna pay for this.”

And you can’t resist his stupid grin. “Now get your pretty ass out before I put you in the back.” 

“Yoongi!”

Grinning, he leads you out, and you follow him to the trunk. After bouncing his stowed ball a couple times, he decides to lean in and reach for something else. 

Wait. Is that what you think it is? “Did you always have that in there?” you ask, pointing to the contraption that Yoongi’s using to air up his basketball.

And he does a horrible job at suppressing a smile. Which makes you burst into flutters and beats beats beats. “You liar!” Oh, you are gonna wipe those laughs from his throat. “I had to change up my plans because of you!”

Palming the ball, Yoongi tilts his head dangerously to one side. “And I got to see you,” he proudly claims. “So I’ll take it.”

You hate how the memories come packaged with what’s haunted you. What else happened during that time, and what happened after you left. But there’s no way you’re gonna bring that up. Not when the night has transformed into something so magical. 

So you just clutch your food and lean on his car, opting to compliment him to wipe the murk away. “Got to see you, too,” you puff into the brisk night. Because you harbor a bit of nostalgia in your bones. And because he still makes you shy. “You and your stupid hair.”

Another bout of hisses wisp into your side. As you turn to regard Yoongi again, he slips his chains into his hoodie before continuing, and you swoon at the veins popping out of his skin with each pump. 

How can he look so perfect doing the simplest things? So unfair. 

After seconds that feel like an hour, Yoongi’s done. And he scans the parking lot before telling you to follow him. 

What you expect is some outdoor courts. Maybe getting past a gate or two. So when you approach a back door lit by the shine of a single light, you freeze. “Are we really going in?”

Fishing something out of his pocket, Yoongi simply turns over his shoulder. “Yeah. Why not?”

“Oh.” You didn’t think you’d actually get inside the building. If there was an outside court just as accessible it would’ve made sense. Can you even bring food in here? Is that question even relevant? “No reason.”

“So I shouldn’t bust in?”

Huh. “What?”

“I’ve already done it a few times, so.”

“Wait!” Nerves throw your hand on his bicep before you can stop. “What if someone sees us?”

He’s so warm. And so toned. And if he plans on taking his hoodie off? You’re not prepared for whatever the hell he has underneath. 

Voice softened, Yoongi tries to placate your paranoia, “They won’t, doll.”

“Are you sure? If we get caught here they’re gonna call the police and I am definitely not… Gonna…”

The object in his hand jangles, and you clearly see he was just joking the whole time because keys—keys—stare you in the face. 

What is it with him and keys? 

When Yoongi speaks, you feel like you’ve never done anything bad in your life, and suddenly the thought of trespassing with an official way in is so scandalous, 

“You picked the wrong night to be a good girl.”

You have to admit. Seeing him so mischievous and dashing makes you wanna follow him wherever the hell he goes. Even if it gets you in trouble. Even if you were breaking in tonight, you would be all in. And that thought should frighten you, but it only does because of the wings tickling your rib cage. 

How can he make you feel rebellious and yet still so shy? The power of Min Yoongi. He’s way too good at destroying you.

When you glare, the man only grins, hisses of laughter leaving him way too happily before he unlocks the door to no alarms or sirens. He doesn’t need to throw a wink your way, too, but of course he does as he lets you in. Which causes you to float through the dark entryway instead of walk oh he did not just slap your ass!

A jolt in your cunt causes you to regard him in shock. To which he hums in a feigned question. “Hmm?”

With nothing but darkness and his cologne surrounding you, it’s only natural that giddiness takes hold. Truthfully, you’re packed with so much adrenaline that you feel a little wild yourself. “You’ve been waiting to do that, huh.” 

“So fucking long.”

You are not surviving the night. And you don’t give a single shit.

But as shy and out of control as you feel around this man, you also feel safe—even in a faraway, dark building that you’ve never been in before. That’s gotta say something about him, right? 

Yoongi feels along the wall beside you for lights, purposefully bumping your chest with his front even though he’s securing a ball with an arm. When you question his joking decision with noises, a chaste kiss on your lips shuts you right up.

“You’re in the way,” he jokes through what you think is a smile, and you’re about to move when he flicks on a switch very far away from your shoulder.

Liar! Your jaw drop must be comical because Yoongi’s grin stretches astronomically wide. But you cannot find a retort because seeing him so chill while you’re stiff from paranoia has you at a loss.

Is this how he used to be all the time? This carefree, all caution to the wind? He’s so fucking handsome like this. No wonder he’s pulled so many hearts just like yours. 

When you still don’t find any words to say, Yoongi makes it harder, stepping so close that you have to swing the plastic container away. Taking one of your hands in his free one, he gives it a warm squeeze while murmuring,

“You’re so cute.”

“How,” you ask just as softly.

And Yoongi responds with lights in his eyes. “Just are.”

Your lips mesh with his as he keeps your fingers secured, and suddenly every cautious thing in your body gets launched into the skies, too.

But it ends as soon as it begins. And Yoongi backs away from you with a smile, 

“Eat.”

“Huh?”

“Eat, doll,” he orders before turning and dribbling onto the court.

When you call out that he hasn’t eaten yet, Yoongi tells you that he already did. When you look around to figure out where to even sit, you decide on the closest set of bleachers and make yourself as comfortable as you can.

Which is impossible. Because they’re bleachers. Which is now triple impossible. Because Yoongi just shucked off his hoodie and the only thing he had under it was his chains goddamn it.

If you weren’t already sitting down you would’ve fallen right into the next dimension. How the fuck are you supposed to eat in these conditions shit he’s walking over! 

Your throat seizes as Yoongi approaches, face trained as if he isn’t aware of his overwhelming presence. All he does is bend to place his sweater next to your legs. But the quick smooch on your lips makes you swoon harder than you ever have.

And the way his silver taps your chest makes you mentally hold on for dear life. Wait. What the fuck, Yoongi’s taking them off right now? Right in front of you? Just as you're supposed to eat oh okay he’s handing them to you great wonderful fantastic.

The metal links feel so warm yet slightly cold to the touch. Weighty, yet light. But you clutch them in your hand as you connect a gaze to his.

“Relax,” he orders, lightly slapping the side of your thigh. “No need to worry.” 

And with bangs swishing, he goes right back to the ball waiting for him. Leaving you starry-eyed to hell with silver in your palm.

…Did all of that just happen? Is any of this even real? Quite frankly, you fucking forgot what you were even worried about. 

No matter what he does—simple lay-ups standing in place, dribbling to different spots to shoot, or even lazily jogging after the ball—you’re so enthralled with his actions that you forget that you’re not supposed to be here. 

And it takes your last bite of food for something to finally hit you. How does Yoongi have keys to this place? Where the hell did he score those because you don’t think he ever mentioned anything about working here. Or anywhere else other than the studio. 

Yet another mystery to add to this walking, bare-chested enigma. 

But there’s another question forming behind your eyes the longer you watch him practice, the more you notice how he’s actually going hard. Yoongi’s really good right now. A lot better than what you’ve seen of him before. 

Has he been coming here more often than he’s let on? And why does he look so… serious? You’d be surprised if he even remembered you’re here. 

Setting your empty container down, you gather the chains in your hands again, deciding to slip them over your head for safer keeping. After, you grab a water before stepping down the bleachers, hanging a little ways away until Yoongi notices you’re courtside.

And when he sees you, he stops practicing immediately, jogging to you so sweaty and shining and gross and handsome and— “Wait, you’re all swea—”

You’re pulled into a kiss the same time you hear a basketball drop, salt on your tongue and damp palms on your cheeks. And you melt right into the shiny wood floor, drifting, drifting, sailing into dreamland even though you’re technically already there. 

“Sweaty,” you whisper into his hot breaths of exertion, a twinge between your legs when he kisses you even deeper—breathing, inhaling, taking you in. “Gross.”

“Thanks.” 

You flash a smile against Yoongi’s lips, giggling because this is all better than anything your brain could’ve conjured on its own. When you ask why he’s going so hard, all you get is a question in return,

“You’re perfect, you know that?” 

Huh? Blinking, you suddenly don’t remember your own train of thought. “What did I do?” 

“Nothing.” He presses a wet mouth to your nose. “Did you eat?”

Laughing, you reassure him, “I did, I did.” 

“Good. You bored?”  

“Huh?”

Yoongi leans to softly take your lips this time, and you want to say he’s approaching the legal limit for kisses tonight. “Thought you came over cus you wanna leave.”

“And stop seeing you play? I could watch this forever.” You squeeze the water bottle a little tighter. “Just checking on you.” Another strike hits between your legs when Yoongi takes another, lazier glide over your mouth, and you sigh when he tugs you forward by your bottoms, fingers slick from use. 

You could do this for eternity, too.

“Well I got about five more minutes in me, so..”

This man. 

“Forever might be a stretch.” 

“Ah, shut up. Here,” you offer through a giggle, holding the water out for him to take. 

“Thanks.” When he does, he tilts his head at just the right angle to cut you through, gulping down liquid and making you do the same to your nothingness. 

So unfair. “You looked like you were going pretty hard.” 

Lowering the bottle, Yoongi shifts his jaw before taunting something a ways off. “I kinda was.” 

“It was kinda hot.” 

His laugh makes you smile, and his next swig makes you weep. “Nah, but. This is our practice gym. I can just zone out here, so. It’s been one of those things.” 

Ah. Was this one of the places Yoongi ended up during those months apart? You wish he could’ve brought you along sometimes. Or at least thought about asking. It’s nice just to be around him while he does something he likes. Gaining courage, you say exactly what’s on your mind, “You can always bring me, too. If you want.” 

And it’s true. You don’t really have to do much when you’re with him, because just being around him is what brightens your day. Lifts your mood. 

But you have to admit that watching him play basketball while shirtless is the biggest fucking win in history. 

When did Yoongi get so close? When did his eyes retreat so far away? “I didn’t wanna bother you with this,” he admits, a drop of sweat clinging onto his chin. “I don’t even put music on.” 

“You never bother me,” you whisper back. Hoping that he believes you and that he will start to accept that as fact. Because it is. “Even if you’re being annoying.” 

The bottle crinkles as he smiles, and there’s a soft kiss to your lips that has no real desire behind it. Just a nice peck that sends you careening down a hill of flowers. “You won’t be feeling that way tomorrow, babe.” 

“And why is that?”

“Cus of what I’m wearing.” 

And he says that while half-naked? Like any look on him could get any worse. “Oh,” you scoff out, fully calling his bluff. “As if.”

Well, fuck. You don’t enjoy the smirk plastered on his face. It has you both dreading and excited for whatever demon you’re gonna run into tomorrow. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He shrugs as he starts to hand the water back. “We can go soon, by the way.”

“Okay.”

But before you can grab it, Yoongi pulls the bottle from reach. “Unless,” he teases. “You wanna play me.”

“What.”

His grin shines, face glistening and turning your insides to jelly. “You told me you’d win, so. Let’s see it.”

You said that? While sober? How does he remember something like that when you can’t even recall a time or place you’d tell him something so bold. “When!”

“Right after you woke up once. Said you’re a master?”

Oh. That was ages ago. Fuck, you already forgot how did Yoongi remember? 

“Oh. Well.” Your nose turns up in feigned haughtiness. “Wouldn’t wanna throw you off your game before a championship.” 

“Uh huh.”

“I’d make you cry what the fuck!” 

Water spills down your head in rivulets as you freeze, stunned and watching Yoongi jogging his laughs back to the bleachers like a punk. “Think you got something on your face, doll.”

“Yoongi!” What the hell possessed him to do that to you here? Racing after him with purpose, you slam into him just as he reaches for another bottle, shoving a laugh out of his throat and making him catch himself on hardwood. “Nu uh, gimme that!”

“It’s mine, I just ran out—”

“Bitch!” You lunge for another bottle lying further away, distancing yourself to quickly rip the cap off and to avoid feeling his slick back on your hands. 

And it’s a lawless gym as both of you start spraying water, arcs and splashes of bottled liquid spewing over the court and soaking into your clothes and his bare skin. Which proves to get worse and worse for your wellbeing the more he gets soaked in your attacks. 

Running ends up being the only option to avoid getting completely drenched, and you hightail it behind bleachers before your waist is grabbed. “Fuck!” 

“Uh huh.” 

You try to wrestle out of his hold, his wet forearm digging lovely into your stomach, and you’re temporarily let go just so Yoongi can spin you around. 

Your back connects with solid wall, the impact shooting a grunt out of your throat before you laugh out of pure disbelief. “I can’t believe, you got me to do that,” you rush out, sentence punctuated by your breaths more than anything else. 

Here you are. Under bleachers. With Yoongi’s skin caging you with radiating heat.  

You can only stare as he drinks you in, no doubt looking at his silver around your neck and your chest heaving from exertion. Butterflies float across your stomach when his smile drips, and you fold as soon as he swoops in. 

Everything in your being pulses hard. It’s so visceral that you teeter on the edge of sanity and logic, and the thoughts slipping through your mind are just as wild as you feel. Before you’re even aware of it, a mischievous finger slides along the hem of his shorts, and you jump at the downright boulders rolling down your front, 

“Careful, doll.”

“Hmm?” You feel bad. And it feels fantastic. “What was that?” 

More gravel slides down his tongue, and you shake at his attractive as fuck threat, “Fuck around and find out then.” 

Your giggles add feather lightness into his murky laughs, but you’re so preoccupied that you don’t notice his hand between your legs until he slaps the inside of your thigh. “Yoo—!”

“Unless.” He leans forward. “My baby’s too scared.” 

Holy fuck, you might be. Is he really willing to do something with you? In a public place very similar to where you’re gonna watch him play tomorrow? You don’t know why the fuck that’s attractive as hell, but it is. 

Yoongi grips your chin, eyes falling to your lips and brows knitted before claiming your lips even harder. And despite your bones vibrating to hell, you put your all into the kiss, relishing in the growing hardness you feel against your front. An animal starts to wake inside your core, and you almost feel like stroking it. Feeding it. Raising it only for it to consume you in return. 

“Fuck it, we’re leaving.” 

“Huh?” Dazed, you let your vision refocus as Yoongi chuckles at your hazy state. 

“Fuck this. I’m taking you home.” 

For some reason, the game makes you nervous today. Even while Taehyung strides into the gymnasium with you, there’s a lingering feeling swelling in your stomach, and you don’t have any reason for it yet. 

At least this is another rec center entirely. Because there’s no way you would’ve sat still knowing you had a clandestine meeting in the same place not even twenty-four hours before. 

But the activity already bustling around hardwood catches your attention. Not on both sides, since only one team is here, but they are active on the other end doing drills. 

Wow. They look really intimidating, matching jerseys that were clearly done professionally and warm-ups having a set routine. You wonder if this is gonna be a tough game for… Wait. That’s your brother under the basket. That’s them? 

Fucking hell, Yoongi was right.

Because you’ll already never get over how attractive he looks in athletic clothes.

But team jerseys? 

Seeing this man rock a basketball uniform with his toned arms and legs so visible makes you want to claw your way out of your invisible cage. 

When the hell did they even get those? And why is he already slightly drenched during the warm-up alone? 

As soon as you see him make a lay-up, you know for a fact that you shouldn’t be here. 

Yes, you’re gonna stay and yes, you’re gonna cheer for them all game. But you are absolutely gonna feel like jumping him, which will in turn make you wanna bolt and run all the way out of town every agonizing second. 

Shit, shit, shit. You’re gonna have to try your damned hardest to unstick your eyes from that man the whole time. Already, you can hear Taehyung’s teasing, and your groan is to lament your future state.

Your name suddenly rings across the gym, and four feet pause in your ascent up the bleachers. When you catch both him and Jimin waving you down from their courtside chairs, you tilt your head in intrigue. 

They want you to come over there? What the hell is this about? 

Sighing, you turn. “Guess I’ll go see what they want.” 

“Here,” Tae offers his hand. “I’ll save you a seat.” 

Your bag is transferred to his grip while you nod, and you step down onto the court, wondering if you’re even allowed to walk onto it to see them. And Jimin’s grin can be seen from miles away. “Come here!” 

You gingerly step onto shiny wooden floors, making your way over and becoming hyper aware that someone else notices your presence. But you’re so puzzled as to why there’s no one on the other side of the court yet because isn’t the game about to start? 

Where’s the other team? As you approach their row of chairs, your hands immediately find your hips. “What’s up?” 

Jimin’s eyes stay creased as your brother explains the reason he waved you down. A very stupid, very innocuous reason. “Can you keep score?” 

“Me?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Why me?” 

Your brother uses his jersey to wipe sweat from his brow, and you wince at the brand new material getting gross already. “The girl that usually does it for us is sick.” 

“And you know the game,” Jimin quickly tacks on, rubbing at some tattoos on full display. Wait, are there more than you remember? When did he get more ink?

Your sibling asks another question you had in mind, “You aren’t gonna cover those?”

“Nah. Not today,” the man elongates in a stretch. “Just got another one. This one!” 

Ah, you were right. “I like it.” 

Jimin couldn’t look more proud. But enough of that because you really just wanna go back and observe the game from another place entirely. “Can’t y’all find someone else to keep score?” 

“We don’t think anyone else can,” your brother explains, looking over your shoulder. “At least, not the people coming to watch us.” 

Cool. You get to be met with heat and sweat from all these guys without compensation. How is this something you would say yes to? “Well. I don’t really feel like being a scorekeeper for free.” 

When your sibling laughs with Jimin, they share a look before he says so matter-of-factly, “Told you.” 

You’re sticking with that. If you’re gonna sit next to a bunch of smelly people, they’re gonna pay… you… somehow.

A ways down the row, you catch Yoongi dumping himself onto a random chair, head tilted back before he hangs it forward to wipe sweat from his forehead. 

And suddenly this temporary gig doesn’t seem terrible in the slightest. 

Because one, you can sit on a team bench that will have his fine ass right there. And two, this will give you a way to objectively focus on the game. You won’t have time to be distracted by a demon and his hair that’s gotten criminally long. 

“I’ll get us all dinner,” your sibling slices through your thoughts. “After we win.”  

“Fine,” you sigh, taking the end seat and shooting one more glance to the other side of the court. “Then I get to p—”

The air around you squeezes inward. And all sounds plunge underwater. 

Because you recognize someone you knew from a dark club walking onto the court, his team looking just as sharp and cocky as his eyes. 

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. 

You don’t notice the way Jimin’s hands flex, nor the way a familiar presence walks up to join your brother. 

All you can do is stare back. 

And without even realizing. 

You’re already rubbing your arm.

-

-

tbc. :((

-

a ha ha... so how do we feel? | taglist | discord!

a/n: okay, hello, loves. apologies this part took so damn long to post! can you imagine if i tried to post everything at once LMAOO yikes talk about too much at once. but i hope this part was enough to still be good on its own, and broken, pt. 2 will be... well. you can probably guess that's where a majority of my brainpower is going to go. a/n 2: thank you all for being here! it's been an amazing two years working on this series and i cannot tell you how grateful and appreciative i am to have such wonderful people alongside me. i hope this series continues to be there for you when you need it, bc it has become that for me, too. ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

[zriasstuff]

This is a kinda random request but how would the sytherin boys react when they see boxers in your room assuming it’s another guys when it’s actually yours. I wear boxers so i just randomly thought of this. 💗💗

This is actually fire, I gladly imagined how this situation would play out. Although some things go similarly, I tried to differentiate their reactions and actions a little bit. Enjoy this crack :)

Slytherin boys x reader

How come you’ve been in a relationship for some time already and they don’t know that you wear boxers ? God knows, maybe they’ve just had a rough day and all critical thinking tends to fly out the window. Jealousy and fear of losing you are hard emotions to control…

Theodore Nott:

when Theo sees them, he aggressively cups your face and pierces your soul with his hunter like eyes all of a sudden

“that’s one skinny bastard that you’re fucking behind my back, does he even have a dick?”, he refers to your own boxers, that are obviously a few sizes smaller

“Tell me, how come you’re such a slut that having me isn’t enough? you actually have to find yourself a side bitch?”

it took some time to recover from his harsh scolding, but soon enough your brain worked again and spat out the right words

Theo backs up in shock when hearing your explanation that made a lot of sense

As a returning favor he should get a scolding too for immediately jumping to conclusions and not communicating properly, but they’re all a bunch of hotheads anyway

It all turns into a funny anecdote though, which also serves as a reminder for him to trust his girl

Tom Riddle:

as soon as he sees them lying around somewhere his expression becomes stoic, brows furrowed just the tiniest bit and lips pursed

of course you noticed even the slightest change, so you reach for his hand to ask him what was wrong. you remember though that sometimes he just gets stressed because he has so much to think about

without properly getting to know the situation he would want to insult and intimidate you, he immediately fumes and threatens: “you are dead to me, and you are going to regret this”

his words and tone especially made you want to cry, you felt yourself curling up, standing beneath his tall frame, not even knowing what you did

he was not only mad at you, but also at himself for letting his guard down, which led to him being played like a fool. there was nothing more important that his self worth and dignity to him

still, you begged and whined for him to stay and when you finally understood that he saw “another guys” boxers on your floor, you actually scoffed and remained speechless for a while

although he was slightly paranoid that you might be lying to him, he saw how distressed you were when he wanted to break up, and that’s something you can’t fake (he still is very wary though, and has to pretend he didn’t just imagine ways to kill and torture “the other guy”)

Mattheo Riddle:

like his brother, he couldn’t stand the thought of someone hurting him, only the other way around

especially with his abandonment issues too this makes him jump from zero to one hundred

but unlike Tom he actually wants to hear your side, to decide how he should handle this and scorned at you: “for fucks sake, you’ve been cheating on me? I don’t know if you thought I was never going to find out, but keeping his bloody boxers is just disgusting. You care to explain?!”

He even picks them up from your bed, and throws them into a corner, shooting them and you a disgusting look

You don’t appreciate his attitude at all, and if that boy knew that he just threw your own boxers, he’d be down on his knees

You can’t take this seriously and tell him “never seen a girl wear boxers?”, that made things so awkward, and Mattheo quickly apologizes, hopefully you’d forget about this…

Draco Malfoy:

His jealousy promptly get the better of him and he thinks about all the idiots that have tried hitting on you, or ever liked you, which one of them was it?

He couldn’t believe that anyone was worth jeopardizing your relationship, but apparently so

Grabbing you close to him, while pointing at the boxers, he growls “so whose are they huh? Carter? Lewis? You better tell me it’s not that stupid Potter”

While you’re talking, he is still so mad that isn’t even hearing everything that you’re saying, he physically couldn’t calm down when thinking about you jumping into bed with someone else

He would take the boxers too, observing at them closely, and then somewhat sneered “I didn’t know girls also wore boxers”

Draco wouldn’t necessarily be a fan, but came to the conclusion that what you wear under your clothes really wasn’t any of his business

At some point he also wants to see what you look like wearing them, and they actually looked kind of cool

Blaise Zabini:

just like all the others, his thoughts immediately jump to violence, for instance how to get the other guy admitted into the hospital wing

but something makes him stop and think—why wouldn’t you even bother to hide them somewhere? did you think he was so incredibly blind, or did you actually have nothing to hide?

Still his temper gets the best of him and accuses you of being “shameless” and asks if you were trying to insinuate that he “wasn’t good enough” because you’re wrong and he can fuck you better than anyone else

He always thought that everything was going well, so you being unsatisfied was really the last thing he expected

Fortunately everything gets resolved quite easily since you reassure him, and you even tease him about his jealousy

For the rest of the night, Blaise in fact proves that he can fuck you the best. That was the best apology for doubting you in the first place

Lorenzo Berkshire:

He gets extremely upset and has an outburst too, but with a hint of self consciousness, asking you how you could do this to him, when he’s always trying his best

Enzo also relies on guilt, wanting to make you feel like absolute shit, he says stuff like “i gave up being a player for you because I love- loved- you so much, but apparently you see me as nothing

You have to try your hardest to make him see how ridiculous he was being, and he demands you tell him how you would never cheat on him

Seeing you in your boxers for the first time also makes him smirk, you could really rock anything

[sleepymrshmllow]

every time someone interprets this as stolas pulling an uno reverse card on blitzø (and calls him a hypocrite) I lose years off my life

because this isn't stolas blaming blitzø for making it about sex. he took blitz mistaking his heartfelt confession as merely roleplay as confirmation that he (stolas) has made their relationship this way and that it's all it ever was and will be. (I feel "That's enough to know what this is." especially indicates this)

because we've gotten multiple scenes/songs where stolas is rightfully putting the blame on himself for putting blitzø in this situation. for example, literally earlier in this scene:

we also have stolas taking accountability both in When I See Him and Just Look My Way:

it would just make zero sense for stolas to just make a complete 180 on his self reflection and development if he were truly putting the blame on blitzø after being pretty explicit that he recognizes this is his own fault.

like he's upset that blitzø couldn't even fathom that he has these sincere feelings for him because he made blitz feel that way. and that is what especially hurts.

blitzø, of course, does take this as an uno reverse card and I don't blame him. he has an understandably skewed perception of the situation which is why he reacts the way he does.

[wonlovie]

— ALWAYS.

After being broken up with, the cherry on top was receiving an invitation to your ex-boyfriend's wedding, leaving you breaking at the seams. Luckily for you, your childhood best friend is there to keep you together.

— starring. childhood bestfriend!jake x fem!reader ft. the slightest appearance of niki, mentions of ex!heeseung and le sserafim's chaewon (she was the first one i thought of LOL)

— tags. friends-to-lovers, slowburn, minor angst, jake is highkey a thigh guy, road trip!!, the oh-no-there's-only-one-bed trope several times over, smut [fem. masturbation while in the same bed, vaginal fingering, oral (f. receiving), handjob, very soft-dom!jake, first time, praising, unprotected sex, reader cries, use of petnames (princess, pretty girl, baby; he also calls you a whore/slut like,, twice) kind of but not really fwb situation [MINORS DNI]]

— word count. 14.3k

— notes. this is the first fic i've posted here!! i also started writing this like,, the day i got covid so if some sentences make zero sense it's because i was loopy af lmAOO on another note jake??? sim jake??? writing this wasnt good for my heart bc he was driving me insane the whOLE TIME

SIXTEEN DAYS.

When you got the invitation in the mail, a single piece of cardstock carefully decorated with ornate blue lace and beautifully handwritten script, you had half the mind to ignore it. Throw it in the trash, maybe. If the sender asked, you could feign innocence. It got lost in the mail, and perhaps I never received it at all.

Unfortunately for you, your conscience kicked you swiftly in the ass before you could even step on your trash bin pedal. 

Begrudgingly, you really had no choice but to go. After all, it was your cousin’s wedding—a day you had both raved about since you were young children. You could still recall the silly Pinterest boards you put together, regrettably filled with tacky and outdated decor. Your cousin, Chaewon, even called you before the invitation was sent to your box, her excited voice crawling out of your phone speaker and taunting you with sharp licks against your ear.

You should be happy. Really, you should. Aside from Lemon, your newly adopted Jindo puppy, Chaewon was your favourite. Despite moving across the country for university, you were there for her as she was for you. Not a single day went by without an hour-long phone call between the two of you, filled to the brim with conversation or spent in peaceful silence.

The issue wasn’t Chaewon. No, it was far worse than that. The issue was her husband-to-be, a man you despised with every cell of your being.

Lee Heeseung. In other words, your ex. 

It was jarring for you to see the very man who seemed to date you out of pity, never truly initiating intimacy or even trying to pretend to be interested in the things you’d tell him, be so sweet to Chaewon. You had, unfortunately, witnessed their love firsthand on multiple occasions. The longing glances, the whispered sweet nothings, the subtle caresses when they thought no one was looking. 

You hated how bitter you felt about it. His last words to you felt like they were tattooed onto your eyelids.

“I’m sorry, but… I don’t think we should date anymore. I think I’ve found someone else.”

Of course, you were heartbroken. Heeseung was your first boyfriend and your first love. You had tried so damn hard to be the receiver of his affections, but your efforts always fell short. The next week, Chaewon approached you with tears brimming her eyes, begging for forgiveness; you knew that whatever you had with Heeseung was officially history. 

Chaewon, the angel, denied his advances until you pushed her to say yes, as you knew she wanted to. 

And now, your decision had come full circle, the ugly truth rearing its head at you. Your feelings for Heeseung were long gone, but with the breakup came a hundred insecurities you didn’t know you had, hence the big move. Maybe with space, you could heal.

“Stupid,” you whispered as your eyes scanned the invitation for the nth time in the past ten minutes. You rubbed harshly at your eyes, forcing the tears away. With a shaking finger, you traced the wedding date, briefly glancing up at the dog calendar that hung on the wall next to your fridge. 

Gingerly dropping the invitation onto the kitchen counter, you quietly counted the days left. The wedding was just over two weeks away, a beautiful August wedding. You don’t know how long you stood there, goosebumps prickling on your thighs as the morning air brushed against them. Your oversized tee did little to combat the cold.

A quiet knocking at the door made you jump. Swearing under your breath, you swiped at your cheeks to rid any evidence of tears. You shuffled to the front door and peeked through the peephole. A man stood there, hands in his jeans pockets, as he waited for you to answer. However, his head was down, which blocked his face from view.

When you didn’t answer right away, he knocked again just as gently as he had before. This time, though, he called out your name. 

Startled, you paused with your hands pressed against the door, eyes still pressed against the peephole. You knew that voice, instantly recognizing the accent that spilled into his words. Pulling the door open, your suspicions were correct when you were met with your childhood best friend, Jake.

A wide grin pulled at the corners of your lips as you looked the man up and down. “Holy shit,” you started, laughter in your voice. “What are you doing here?” Stepping back to let him in, you eyed his wide shoulders as he bent over to untie his shoes. “You never said you were coming to visit.”

Jake lazily smiled up at you as he tugged off the last shoe. His eyes drifted down for a second, catching sight of your bare legs. Not a moment later, he averted them. “Damn, hello to you too, sweets.” When he stood to his full height, he leaned into a comfortable slouch, shoving his hands into the pockets of his well-worn jeans. “Chaewon didn’t tell you?” He tilted his head at you in question.

Shaking your head no, you headed to the kitchen where you left your phone. Finding your chatroom with Chaewon, you scanned the contents quickly. “Look—”

You turned to show Jake your previous texts, but as you swivelled on your heel, you hadn’t expected him to be so close. You jumped slightly, the small of your back pressing into the cool countertop as Jake hovered over you, seemingly inches away. You could practically count his every lash from your angle, not missing how his eyes scanned your face.

Apparently, he didn’t expect to be so close either, as the tips of his ears reddened. “My bad,” as he moved to give you space. He pushed back his hair—when had he dyed it blonde?— to see your screen better. Reading quickly, he snorted at Chaewon’s lack of warning for his arrival, her last message simply being: ;).

“I thought you knew I’d be coming, so I didn’t bother sending a text,” he explained. “Chae wants me to be your escort to the wedding.”

“My what?”

Jake grinned at you, flashing his pearly whites. “Y’know, your stead. Your chauffeur. Your knight in shining armour, if you will.”

“Those aren’t the same in the slightest, Jake.”

“You get what I mean, sweets.” 

You hummed, resting your palms atop the counter by your sides. “Why so early, though? The wedding isn’t for a couple of weeks.” He opened his mouth to say something, but a sharp yip from your bedroom interrupted him. You practically watched as elation flooded his senses when he spun on the spot, searching for the sound source.

Pushing yourself off the counter, you lightly bumped his shoulder with your own as you manoeuvred around him. “Looks like someone’s awake,” you sang as you headed down the hall. You could hear Jake’s heavier, sock-clad footsteps following you into your bedroom as you called out for Lemon.

The little pup bounded toward you, jumping from your bed with a tail that wagged so fast you were concerned she’d sprain it. With her tongue out, she hopped on her hind legs, unsure of whether she should greet you or Jake first. “Lemon, this is Jake,” you introduced as you picked her up. Gently moving her paw in a waving motion, you smiled at him. “Jake, this is the love of my life, Lemon.”

He sent you a teasing smile, “I thought that was my title.” You flushed at the unexpected remark. Before you could respond, he turned to Lemon with a soft expression. “Hi, Lemon. Hope you’re taking good care of sweets for me.” Cooing at the pup, he booped her nose.

Without a word, you motioned for him to follow you back to the living room, situating yourself on the small leather couch worn from years of hand-me-down use. Lemon hopped off your lap, her tail wagging as she beckoned Jake to sit down. He was quick to join you, sitting close enough for your knees to touch when Jake shifted his body to face you. You scanned him up and down.

He’d changed a bit, clearly, since the last you saw him. He wasn’t nearly as scrawny as before, his broad frame apparent from under his unzipped jacket. He had lost the baby fat in his cheeks, leaving behind a sharp jawline. The biggest change to note was his hair. Long gone were the black tresses, and in their place were soft blond locks.

In other words, he was hot.

“When did this happen?” you asked as he shrugged his jacket off, reaching up to twist a strand with your finger. “It looks good on you.”

Jake sent you a teasing look, the corners of his lips tugging upwards. “You would’ve known I went blond like a month and a half ago if you actually read your messages,” he chided, clicking his tongue. His eyes stayed on you, flitting across your face.

“Whatever,” you hushed, “I’ve just been busy with school.” It's a lie, but he doesn’t need to know that. No one needed to know that you’ve spent the last few months acting like a heartbroken teen when you were a grown adult. Despite Jake having seen the worst parts of you in high school, you still wanted him to hold some esteem for you.

For a second, it was quiet aside from Lemon’s quiet sniffing, her nose working quickly on Jake’s discarded coat. Jake held eye contact with you, a silent question reflected in his eyes. 

“It’s still weird to me.”

Raising a brow, you rested your elbow on the back of the couch, resting your head against your palm. “What is?”

He stayed silent for a minute before leaning back against the couch, turning his head slightly to face you. “I can’t just walk down the block to annoy you now. Now, you’re four hours away unless I want to spend a few hundred on a plane ticket.” He stuck out his tongue, “‘Dunno why you didn’t stay.” His voice was light, teasing, but you could hear a slight edge to his words.

You huffed, “You know exactly why I left.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything. When Heeseung broke up with you, Jake was the first one you told. Despite being an incoherent, blubbering mess over the phone, he came the instant he heard the first sob rack your body. That night, he held you without a word until your tears ran dry.

“You still hung up about it?”

Pausing, you shook your head. “No,” you bit your lip, not catching the way his eyes darted down to watch, “not anymore, anyway. I don’t feel anything for Heeseung if that’s what you’re asking.” You cracked a sardonic smile at him, punching his shoulder and chuckling when Lemon followed your movement. “Not that pathetic yet, Jake.”

He fully turned his body to you, the leather couch squeaking under his shifting weight. His golden hair fell into his eyes as he bore into yours. “I was there, remember?” His voice was gentle as if he was worried he’d scare you off. “I know it hurt more than you’re letting on. It wasn’t that long ago.”

You silently cursed him for still being able to read you so well, even after so long apart. Absentmindedly, you tugged on the hem of your shirt, playing with the edge that was starting to fray after years of use. Jake leaned forward, placing a warm hand on your bare thigh. “I’ll be there the whole time. If you want me to, I’ll stay right beside you the whole night.”

Your eyes darted to where his large hand rested on your skin, swallowing harshly. “Yeah,” you whispered, looking back up at him through your lashes. “That’d be… really nice, Jake.” You shakily exhaled; his proximity and his touch made your every nerve go haywire. Since when did Jake, your best friend since you were in diapers, have this effect on you? Looking up at the mop of messy blond on his head, you blamed the change in colour.

Jake didn’t say anything for a while but never moved his hand. The two of you sat there, staring into each other's eyes. Lemon had long ago gotten comfy in the small space between you, round eyes closed in rest. “I’ll always be there for you, you know that, right?” He said finally, voice barely above a whisper.

You could only nod, your every thought directed to the hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing circles on the inside of your leg.

You offered Jake your shower while you went to get his luggage from his car. At first, he refused, telling you that he could get the luggage himself and take a shower afterward, but you had practically shoved him into the bathroom, claiming he smelt bad from the drive. 

Truthfully, he smelt good as ever, having always possessed an addicting scent to you.

Besides, this way, you could clear your head with some fresh air as you left and headed to your apartment parking lot. Easily spotting his car, much newer than any of the models your neighbours had, you jogged over to it. Once inside, you noted how clean the car was, coming as somewhat of a surprise to you. A carwash receipt peaked out from the middle console.

Lugging his suitcase out from the backseat, you were quick to make your way back, lest Jake be left without clothes for too long. Shutting your front door behind you, you nearly let out a scream when, on cue, Jake emerged from a cloud of steam, donning only your fluffy blue towel. He hadn’t noticed you yet, using another towel to shake out the excess water from his hair.

Unknowingly, your eyes followed a bead of water as it trailed down his toned body, disappearing under the towel that threatened to unravel itself, sending your mind into a frenzy. Turning around before he could realize that you were ogling at him like some pervert, you cleared your throat. “Got your suitcase,” you forced out. “You can change in my room if you want.”

“Ah, thanks, sweets.” You listened for his footsteps, tensing as they came closer. “Why so shy?” He inquired with a chuckle at the tip of his tongue. “‘S not like you’ve never seen me naked before.”

“Jake, we were five.”

“Still,” he laughed. You were startled when he patted your shoulder, gently turning you to face him more. You swallowed harshly at the sight of his naked chest up close. “Joking. Thanks for grabbing my stuff.” Without another word, he turned around and disappeared behind your bedroom door.

Letting out a breath, you pressed your forehead against the cool surface of your front door, holding a hand over your heart. Lemon’s tiny paws brought her over to you, the click clicks of her nails against the hardwood taking your attention away from your thoughts. She looked up at you, her head tilted as though she was questioning you. “I must be going crazy, huh?” You knelt down to let her jump on you, her front paws pressing into your leg. 

“Layla’d love her,” Jake’s voice interrupted. You looked up to see him dressed in comfy attire, a dim disappointment settling in your stomach. “You hungry? I can order something for us.”

Rolling your eyes, you stood up. “You’re my guest, Jake. I can order.” You pulled out your phone and open a delivery app. Before you could get too far, the phone was taken from your grasp, left in Jake’s palm as he stared at you in challenge.

With a shake of his head, he denied you. “I may be your guest, but you’re also housing me for two weeks. Plus, I haven’t seen you in forever.” He hunched over to meet your eyes, “My treat. You can pay next time, promise.”

By the time the food arrived, you and Jake had settled in on the couch, a random movie playing on the TV. Quiet chatter filled the space. The movie had already been forgotten, acting as mere background noise to your conversation. You dug into your food without missing a beat, covering your mouth to retort whenever Jake would make a jab at you. 

“You never got to answer my question,” you prompted, putting down your chopsticks and resting the take-out container on the coffee table. “Why’d you come so early? Why not closer to the wedding?”

You watched Jake pause, his expression unreadable. “Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to see you?” he asked, voice low as he turned to look at you. His blond hair had been pushed up and back so many times strands framed his face, allowing you to see all of it. “Because I do,” he continued, shrugging as if he weren’t making your heart race, “I want to see you. All the time.”

Unsure of how to respond, you sputtered for a moment before turning away, your cheeks warm. “I’ve wanted to see you too,” you mumbled, “so thanks. For coming.”

“For you? Always.”

Rolling your eyes, you bumped Jake with your shoulder. “When did you get so cheesy?”

Jake pulled his lower lip under his teeth for a second, biting at the plump flesh as he mulled over an answer. “Just missed you, is all.”

Nodding, you turned your head to watch the rest of the movie. It was confusing since neither of you watched the first half. Beside you, Jake turned to do the same. If either of you noticed how the space between you had become nonexistent, thighs and shoulders pressed together, no one said a word. You couldn’t complain, enjoying how Jake’s warmth seeped through his clothes and into your skin.

Without realizing it, the both of you fell asleep. The TV had gone dark after hours of inactivity, the moon lighting up the room with a dark hue. Jake awoke first, grumbling when his neck had a familiar ache in it. But when he went to roll his shoulder, something was in the way. Or rather, someone. He turned, pursing his lips to stay quiet as he realized you were leaning on him.

Your legs were draped over his own, something you must’ve done in your sleep. Or maybe it was him searching for a source of warmth in the coolness of the night. His arm was wrapped around your shoulder, your head fitting directly in the crook of his neck. He felt his skin burn as he swore quietly. Pulling out his phone, he glanced at the time.

3:02 a.m.

As slowly as he could, he hooked one arm under your knees and the other around your back. Standing, he hoped his racing heart wouldn’t wake you. Jake maneuvered the dark apartment as best he could without accidentally hitting your head against the walls of your hallway. Luckily, you left your bedroom door open, so he didn’t need to figure that out somehow. 

Lemon was already asleep, curled up on your left pillow. Carefully, he laid you down on the bed, pushing away stray hairs on your face afterward. He stayed there for a moment, staring at your peaceful expression. His heart warmed, a tingly feeling in his belly erupting at the sight of you. He tugged the blanket over your body, pressing a finger to his lips when Lemon startled awake.

Tucking you in, he hovered for a minute before pressing a soft kiss against your forehead. “Night, sweets,” he whispered before moving to his feet. Before he could get very far, a hand shot out from under the blanket and weakly grasped at his wrist. Turning, Jake held a breath at the sight of your sleepy eyes gazing up at him. “Only have one bed,” you slurred, sleep taking over your speech. “Sleep here.”

Jake balked at you, hands subconsciously balling at his sides. “Are you sure? I can sleep on the couch—”

“No! Sleep here.” You didn’t give him much room to argue as you scooted backwards to give him some room before lifting the blanket in invitation. This movement bugged Lemon, clearly, as she moved from your pillow to lay in the nook of your bent legs. “Come on, we’ve slept in the same bed before.”

Swallowing at the sight of you, eyes barely open and shirt riding up further than he could handle, Jake relented, knowing you would keep arguing with him until daylight. The last time we slept in the same bed, you were bawling your eyes out over Heeseung, he stopped himself from saying. The thought lingered as he crawled in next to you, keeping a respectful distance. 

Satisfied, you allowed your heavy lids to close, a small, contented smile painted on your lips. “G’night, Jake.”

He sighed. “Good night, sweets.”

You fell asleep instantly, hand resting on the pillow in front of your face. Jake mirrored your position, your pinkies centimetres from touching. He observed the slow rise and fall of your chest and the occasional sniffs when your hair would fall and tickle your nose. His eyes traced your every feature, from the curve of your cheek to your supple lips. 

Jake did not sleep well that night.

FOURTEEN DAYS.

Two days after Jake had made an appearance, he quickly fell into a routine with you. He would wake up first and have a cup of coffee ready for you whenever you’d sleepily bound into the kitchen. A bowl of cereal would already be sitting on the counter, the jug of milk sitting beside it. Your mornings were quiet as you both woke up, only a raspy “good morning” before you’d sit in silence over your bowls.

It had been a long time since you had such normalcy, and you’d be lying if you said you hated it.

“Hey,” he started, only half done chewing his cereal. “We have, like, two weeks left until we actually need to be in Seoul, right?”

You eyed him suspiciously for his cheery tone so early in the morning. Swallowing your food first, you nodded. “Yeah, but Chae wants us back at least two days before in case things need fixing or whatever.” Sipping your coffee, you raised a brow at him, “Why?”

Grinning at you, he leaned over to grab your arm in excitement. Your eyes darted to where you connected, noting how his thumb immediately started rubbing the inside of your wrist, making you cross your legs under the table. “Let’s make our trip back a road trip!”

You blinked. “Jake. You drove here—it was already going to be a road trip to go back.”

Jake threw his head back in a groan, inadvertently showing you his Adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down. You followed the movement down to his wide shoulders before looking away a second before he straightened up to meet eyes with you. “Dummy, I know that. Let’s make it a fun road trip with loads of stops and everything!” He talked animatedly, waving his hands with reckless abandon. “There are lots of small towns and pitstops on the way to Seoul, but we’ve never actually explored them.”

“How do you know I haven’t?”

Jake looked at you as if you had grown two heads. “If you have and I wasn’t invited, your best friend card is being revoked this instant. You hear me? Revoked.”

Laughing, you stood and grabbed both of your empty bowls. “Fine, we can have your fun road trip. You’re doing all the planning, though, since it was your idea.” You tilted his coffee mug toward you to see if he had finished it, placing it back where it was when you saw the brown liquid still swirling inside. He followed you to the sink, sleeves already rolled up when you placed the porcelain into the basin.

You didn’t say anything when he gently pulled you to the side and grabbed the sponge to start cleaning. “I already have the route!” He told you, not taking his eyes off the dishes. “It’s in my phone. You can look—it’s in the notes app.” Peaking at you through his lashes, he nodded his head in the general direction of where he left his phone. “Password’s still the same.”

You snorted, picking it up from the table before joining him at the sink, hopping up on the counter beside him. As you entered your birthyear into the phone, you didn’t catch the way he eyes your thighs, your shorts doing little to nothing to cover up the way they flattened slightly against the cool marble. “Y’know,” you started, ripping him out of his thoughts, ushering him to quickly place the bowls and spoons onto your drying rack. “This is a shitty password. You’re gonna get robbed one day.”

 He shrugged, pulling the hand towel off your oven’s handle to dry his hands. You watched him, silently ogling at the veins that popped out in his forearms when he turned to replace the towel. “Maybe, but it’s important to me.”

“My birth year?”

He grinned at you with a simple nod, standing between your thighs. His eyes fell to them once more when you absentmindedly spread your legs to give him room to stand. Biting the inside of his cheek, he shakily rested his palms on either side of you, moving slow enough for you to object if you were uncomfortable. "It's the year my favourite person was born, after all." You didn’t say anything, instead looking back at his phone screen.

He watched as your eyes flit back and forth as you read, his fingers itching to move closer to you, to touch your skin. He opted to curl his fingers until his nails dug into his palms. “When did you figure this out?” You asked, smiling at the title of the note.

Sweets and Jake’s Road Trip !!!

“Last night, while you slept.”

You shot him a look, searching for eye bags. You were relieved when you didn’t see any, but you punched his shoulder nonetheless. “Idiot. If you can’t sleep, you can wake me, you know? You don’t have to stay up by yourself.” You placed a hand on his forearm, rubbing your thumb over a jutting vein just as he had to you moments before.

His urge to touch you grew stronger, and he felt his mental fortitude crumbling at the contact. Clearing his throat, Jake shrugged. “You’re cute when you sleep, princess. Didn’t want to wake you.” Moving away before your scent could drive him any more insane, he rubbed the back of his neck. “So? What’s the verdict?”

Lips parted from his casual slip of a nickname you’d never heard from him before, you dumbly nodded. “Good. It’s good. Let’s do it.” You hopped down from the counter, Jake’s hands immediately moving to steady you once you got on your feet. “When do we leave?”

Jake grinned at you, revealing his canines. “Whenever you’re ready, sweets.”

You returned the smile, excitement starting to affect you. “Let’s get ready then, shall we?”

It didn’t take either of you very long to get your suitcases and essentials put together. Jake had mostly kept his things in his suitcase, only pulling out clothes he needed for the day or toiletries that you didn’t have any to spare. Two toothbrushes sat in a cup instead of the usual one, and the sight made you grin as you collected your things. Chaewon had your dress up in Seoul, so you didn’t need to worry about any of that either.

An hour after Jake proposed the road trip, he was waiting outside, one hand clasped over both of your luggage handles, the other holding Lemon’s carrier as you locked the door. The two of you walked out to his car in silence, the crisp morning air making you shiver under your thin jacket. “It’s still summer,” you complained in a long drawl, “why is it so fucking cold in the morning?”

Jake laughed at you, thanking you when you opened the back door of his car for him and carefully slid the luggage and carrier in. “Relax, princess, I’ll turn the heat on just for you, yeah?”

You grumbled at his teasing, taking your spot in the passenger seat without a word as he held the door open for you. You watched him jog around the car to reach his side, never taking your eyes off him as he fiddled with the A/C. As he turned the ignition on, he handed you his phone. “Put something on for me, will you?” 

As he drove, you noted the fact that he drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the middle console. His arms were exposed in the black tee he wore, seemingly not as affected by the cold as you were. You willed yourself not to notice how the shirt was unfairly form-fitting, wrapping around the bulk of his bicep in a way that was sending you spinning. 

The first stop was five minutes away from your apartment as Jake pulled into the parking lot of a nearby convenience store. Jake unrolled the windows a bit for Lemon, telling her to be good as the both of you exited the vehicle. Once inside, you shivered at how strong the store had its A/C running. 

Eyeing you, Jake sent you a smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll be quick.”

Without another word, you followed as Jake made his way through the different aisles, picking up snacks that you easily recognized as some of your favourites. Even grabbing a heat pack, he waved it at you teasingly. “Weirdo, needing a heat pack in the middle of August.”

You sputtered, “Wha— I never asked you to—”

Interrupting you with a bark of a laugh, he shook his head. “Just poking fun. C’mon, let’s go. Lemon’s probably waiting for us.” You huffed but didn’t argue as he pulled you to the front cashier by the hand. You trained your sight on your connected hands, moving them so your fingers interlaced. Jake briefly looked down at what you’d done, but if it bothered him, he didn’t say anything.

“Oh, it’s you!”

To both your surprise and Jake’s, the cashier’s eyes lit up when he saw you. “We had English together,” he filled in when you didn’t seem to recognize him. “We were in a group project together for the final?” You blinked a few times before making a noise of recognition.

“Riki! Sorry, I didn’t recognize you with the new hair,” you explained, glancing at his newly dark brown hair. “It was blond before. Looks good now, though!” You gave him a thumbs up. Before he could reply beside you, Jake cleared his throat. Both you and Riki looked at him, realizing that the latter hadn’t even started ringing your items through, and there was a bit of a line behind you.

Riki immediately started scanning the snacks Jake had brought, never taking his eyes off you. “What’re you up to this summer? I haven’t seen you at all since the semester ended.”

You hummed, “My cousin’s wedding is in two weeks, so Jake and I—” You nudged him, not noticing how quiet he had gotten. “—are driving back to Seoul right after this.”

The younger boy nodded, glancing over at Jake before looking down at your hands. You forgot they were still intertwined, but Jake's grip tightened when you went to let go. You dropped your head to hide how warm your cheeks felt, biting your lip lightly. “Ah,” Riki put down the scanning gun, his tone noticeably less happy. “₩9000, please.”

Jake threw a few crumpled notes on the counter before bowing his head slightly in goodbye, tugging you toward the exit wordlessly. You waved at Riki over your shoulder before walking quickly to fall in step with Jake. “You okay? You were quiet in there, and then you pulled us out like that.”

Jake only nodded, carelessly tossing the bag of snacks into the back with your luggage. “Here,” he tossed you the heat pack, already cracked and warming up. He opened your door again without further explanation before taking his own seat.

You stared at his profile in confusion, the heat pack already doing its job on your frigid hands. As he pulled back onto the road, you glanced at his hand, which rested over the middle console as it had before.

Curiously, you turned his wrist until his palm was facing upward. Jake watched you from the corner of his eye, only turning his head when he reached a red light. He hadn’t expected you to put your hand in his, interlocking your fingers once again. “Your hands are warmer,” you mumbled, leaning back to get comfortable. In shock, Jake hadn’t taken his eyes off of you.

Smiling tightly at him, you squeezed his hand. “The light’s green.”

Snapping his head forward, he coughed as he focused on the road. For the next while, your hand would stay in his. The ride to the next town was spent in silence, with you mouthing the lyrics to songs you recognized from his playlists. 

In Jake’s phone, he had written that you were to stay at motels in towns along the way. When you protested at the cost it would be, he simply argued with it’s for the experience, sweets. And no worries! I’m paying for the whole trip. And when you argued with that last bit, he only replied, if I see your wallet at all, I might have to fight you.

Your first real stop was in a small fishing village, the last coastal town you’d see before you started driving inland. The morning chill was gone, replaced with the comforting warmth of the summer sun. Despite that, you didn’t let go of Jake’s hand until you had to get out of the car. Stretching your limbs, you groaned when you felt and heard some joints pop. 

You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes as you took in the smell of the ocean and the distant chatter of nearby townspeople. The motel Jake brought you to was a little rundown; it was obvious that it had been around for quite some time. The paint was peeling a bit, and the shingles on the roof made it look dated, but it had a cozy feel to it. Besides, it was the only dog-friendly motel in the area, so you couldn’t afford to be choosy.

“Hello,” the old woman at the receptionist's desk greeted you kindly, eyes shifting from you to Jake. You smiled at her, bowing your head in respect. Besides you, Jake did the same with that easygoing grin of his. “How may I help you?”

“A room for two, please,” said Jake.

The woman nodded, looking over at the remaining room keys. Grabbing one, she handed it over to you before telling Jake how much it’d cost. As Jake fumbled with his wallet, the old woman looked at you fondly. “You two are precious,” she informed you with an air of nostalgia, her wrinkled hand resting atop her chest over her heart. “I remember when me and my late husband were your age.”

You blushed at her insinuation that you and Jake were together but found that the idea wasn’t as jarring as you thought it’d be. You couldn’t tell if Jake didn’t catch the comment or chose not to reply as he handed her the money she needed. 

It wasn’t hard to find your room out of the ten total, and you were pleased to see that the coziness of the outside continued inside. Jake wheeled your luggage in while you opened Lemon’s carrier, letting her roam free in the room, sniffing the foreign air. The room itself wasn’t too big, consisting of the main room that could only fit a single queen bed and not much else and a bathroom that was longer than it was wide. 

“It’s like we’re teens again,” you giggled at Jake, shrugging off your jacket. “We’re sharing beds often.”

Jake let out a breath at the realization that there really was only one bed again and nodded stiffly. He supposed that was his fault for not mentioning how many beds you needed. “I guess so,” he gazed at you tenderly. “You sure you don’t mind?”

You rolled your eyes at him, “You can cut the gentleman act with me, Jake. If I minded, I would’ve said something already. We shared a bed in my apartment, remember?”

Of course I remember, he thought, it was driving me crazy.

In truth, Jake hasn’t been able to sleep because of how cuddly you were in your sleep. He’d purposely lay as far as he could from you so as not to give in to any temptations, but it seemed like you had other plans whenever you laid your head to rest. Not two minutes after he’d heard your soft snores, your hands were reaching for him, pulling you closer to his torso until you were snuggled up against him. 

He may have only been staying with you for two days, but he’s had to take just as many cold showers before you woke up.

“Do you wanna go on a walk?” you asked once the two of you settled. Lemon sat by your feet, circling them by looping under the chair you sat on to entertain herself. “It’d be nice to venture out! I think poor Lemon’s a bit restless from the carrier.” You bent over to rub behind her ears, to which she let out a yip of approval.

Jake smiled softly at the sight before nodding. “Let’s go, then.”

Thankfully, Lemon was an off-leash dog and stayed close by as you walked the streets of an unfamiliar town. In the distance, seagulls cried out to each other as fishing boats pushed off from the harbour. The sound of the sea lulled you into a peaceful reverie. You and Jake walked side by side, fingers brushing against each other every so often.

“It’s nice here,” you mumbled, “we should have done this sooner.”

Jake hummed, the low noise rattling in your ears. You closed your eyes as you walked, fully trusting Jake to guide you if you were going to walk into anything. He smiled softly at the sight of your relaxed demeanour, moving to hold your hand. You walked in silence for a bit before you reached the shore. Jake spotted some beach chairs, pulling you along. Lemon bounded ahead, happy to have room to run. You cracked open your eyes in time to see her jump into the water, barking happily as she entertained herself.

“Next time, you should bring Layla,” you suggested as you sat down. 

Jake smiled down at your hands. “Yeah, next time.”

Silence fell upon you, but it wasn’t unwelcome. You both watched Lemon as she played in the water, occasionally coming up to bring you a rock she had found before hopping back into the puddles the tide was creating. All the while, your hands stayed clasped, with Jakes's thumb rubbing familiar circles on the back of your palm.

“Why did you move so far?”

You halted, your smile slipping. “You asked me already.”

“But you weren’t being completely truthful with me.” He looked at you, concern shining in his eyes. “You’re not over it, are you?”

The topic dampened your mood, your heart rate rising as you avoided eye contact. “I told you already, Jake. I don’t love Heeseung anymore. I’m fine,” you pressed, lying through your teeth. Lying to Jake always left a bitter taste in your mouth, as you knew he could tell immediately that it wasn’t the truth. “What kind of cousin would I be if I were still in love with her groom-to-be?”

Jake’s frown deepened. “You have the right to be hurt—”

“But I’m not! So drop it.” Your outburst garnered the attention of a few townspeople who were out and about, causing you to flush in embarrassment. Lowering your voice, you stared down at the rocky beach, digging your dirtied trainers into the course sand. “I’m fine.”

Unbelieving, Jake continued, “It’s just… I thought you had enough reason to stay.”

His words made you look up, annoyed at how much he was pressing the topic on you. “Clearly, I didn’t.” Shaking your head, you dropped his hand before standing to your feet and dusting off imaginary dirt from your pants. You looked down at him, a mistake as you were forced to look at his hurt expression, lip trembling as he stared up at you open-mouthed. “I’m going back.”

He only watched your back as you walked away, beckoning Lemon to follow. The poor puppy got out of the water, shaking off the excess. She ran toward you but paused and looked back at Jake. She tilted her head as if she were asking Aren’t you coming? before running after you.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, shellshocked, until he realized that the sun was starting to set. Deciding he had been out there long enough, Jake slowly made his way back to the motel. When he got to your room, he hesitated, knowing that you could easily lock him out for the night if you were still upset with him since you had the only key.

Jake stood there, mulling over whether or not he should try knocking, but before he could even decide, the door opened. He was met with you, tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. “Don’t just stand there,” you opened the door more for him to come in. His heart broke at the sight of you and at how wet your voice sounded, as if you had just finished crying.

“Sweets, I’m sorry—” 

You shook your head, holding up a hand to stop him. “No, you did… you did nothing wrong. I shouldn’t have exploded at you like that or left you alone out there.” You looked down in shame, gnawing at your bottom lip. “I’m sorry, Jake.”

He was quick to lift your chin with two fingers, keeping them there as he rested his other hand on your upper arm. “Hey, no, none of that. I shouldn’t have pushed you when you obviously didn’t want to talk about it.” He pushed your hair behind your ear before bringing you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around him, burying your head in his shoulder. He kissed the top of your head before muttering in your ear, “I’m sorry, sweets. I promise I won’t ask about it until you tell me you’re ready.”

You let go of the hug, but Jake kept you close in his arms. Looking into his eyes with welled-up tears, you pouted slightly, bringing his gaze downward. “You’re sure you’re not upset with me?”

“With you, never, sweets.”

You opened your mouth but closed it before you could say anything. Hugging him again, your voice came out muffled. “Wanna sleep.”

Jake chuckled at you, dropping his head in disbelief. “Okay.”

Not long after, you were both situated in bed, with Lemon lying at your feet like usual. As he had for nights before, Jake kept his distance, but you quickly changed that. For the first time, you cuddled up to him while you were awake, fully aware of your actions. Jake’s breath halted as he felt you nuzzle your face into the soft fabric of his tee, which smelt so strongly of him that it was all you could smell. “I love you,” you whispered into his skin, sending his brain into a frenzy. “You’re the bestest friend I could’ve ever asked for.”

Jake could practically hear the record screech in his head, gritting his teeth a bit before relaxing his jaw to leave another soft kiss against your temple. “I love you too, sweets.”

The day had exhausted him more than he’d realized. For the first time in two days, Jake found himself falling asleep right after you, holding you tightly against his chest.

You awoke to the feeling of something warm attached to your neck. A quiet moan escaped your lips when the something bit down. You felt large hands explore the expanse of your side, your sleeping shirt pushed far up. Something hard poked against your thigh as you angled your head upward.

Your eyes fluttered open as you realized it was Jake, groaning as he nipped at your skin, leaving behind blossoms of red and purple. You moved your hips closer to his, gasping when his growing hard-on made contact with your clothed sex. “Fuck, baby, you don’t know what you do to me,” he uttered, his deep voice going straight to your groin. Your panties, you were sure, were already soaked with your slick.

“Please,” you whined as he bit down harder, and his hand roamed higher, tracing the curve of the underside of your breast with his fingers. His mouth felt oh-so-hot on your skin, and his teasing touch did little to alleviate it. “Show me, Jake. Show me what I do to you.”

He pulled back, ignoring the noise of disappointment you made. His eyes looked impossibly dark as he hovered over you, chest heaving. “Be careful what you wish for, pretty girl.” He easily flipped you onto your back, slotting himself between your legs. You moaned loudly when he ground his hips against yours, allowing you to feel just how hard he’d gotten. 

His lips met yours in a hungry kiss, tongue forcing itself past your lips to lick into your mouth. His hands moved wildly, pushing your shirt up until your breasts were fully uncovered, nipples pebbling in exposure to the cold air. “So beautiful,” he groaned into your ear as one hand kneaded your left breast. “Fuck, gonna make you mine, yeah? You want that?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed pathetically, a sob of need ripping through your throat as his free hand made its way to your shorts. “Please, Jake, need you so badly.”

He groaned again, pushing past the elastic waistband and guiding his fingers into your soaked panties. He moved down to collect your wetness and…

You breathed in harshly when you woke up, your heart racing faster than it ever had before. You blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness of the room, remembering where you were. Your chest heaved as you tried to calm yourself down, your face burning. Oh my god, you thought in slight mortification.

Jake’s arm rested over your middle, you realized, as he spooned you from behind. Your startle hadn’t woken him, his soft snores sounding in your ear canals. You were relieved that he wasn’t awake to ask why you woke up so violently because how were you to explain that it was because you were having a wet dream about him?

The dull feeling of disappointment had settled into your gut from having been interrupted before the dream could get good, a feeling that came with shame at how indisputable your horniness was. You’d never dreamed of Jake in such a light, but now you were worried that you wouldn’t be able to rid yourself of the sight of his eyebrows scrunching together in pleasure as he ground against you—

No. You need to stop.

Turning your head to groan into the pillow, you became hyper-aware of how wet you were, your panties sticking uncomfortably to your pussy. You pressed your legs together, silently willing the pulsing of your clit to calm down and let you fall asleep again. If you fall asleep, you might forget about this in the morning.

“Stop moving,” Jake’s tired voice scared you, making you jump. He used his arm to pull you closer against him, your hand against your mouth to stop yourself from making any noise. Not long after, you heard his deep breaths again, signalling that he’d fallen asleep. 

Fuck, you were screwed. You closed your eyes tightly, but all you could think about was how firm and warm he felt. Pressed against him like this, you could almost feel everything. From his tone chest and legs to his soft length, pressing against your backside. His gray sweats and your flimsy shorts barely acted as a barrier between you. Stretching your legs out, you realize that Lemon had hopped off the bed at some point, likely to sleep in her carrier.

Without thinking, your shaky hand made its way down your front, actively avoiding his arm. You bit your lip harshly as you slipped a finger underneath your shorts, listening carefully to ensure he wasn’t awake. This is crazy, you have never thought of doing something so indecent in front of Jake, but the idea was sending you into a frenzy. 

You fingertip made contact with your slit, and you had to stop yourself from moaning aloud at just how wet you were. Slowly, you rubbed circles around your clit, jolting slightly at the initial contact. Maybe it was from the dream or the fact that Jake was right there, but you felt more sensitive than usual, holding in whimpers with every movement.

“F-fuck,” you accidentally let out, screwing your eyes shut as you moved your hand faster. In the quiet stillness of the night, you could hear your slick with every flick of your wrist. If Jake woke up, there’d be no question to what you were doing, but the thought only spurred you on more.

Using your other hand to grope yourself over your shirt, you teased your entrance, easily inserting a finger. It wasn’t enough, your finger failing to fill you up how you know Jake’s would, a thought that forced out a rather loud moan.

Realizing how loud you were, you paused and listened to his breathing. Before you could even register that his breaths weren’t as deep as they were before, his arm tightened around you.

“Naughty fucking girl,” he hissed into your ear, pulling your hand out of your panties. You didn’t have time to feel humiliated before he rolled you onto your back, his thighs pressing into your waist as he sat on top of you. The look he gave you was just like the one he had in your dream, eyes dark and pupils full-blown, eyebrows furrowed together in desperate need.

“Touching yourself like that while my arm’s around you,” he spat, leaning until he was mere inches away from your face. “Thinking I wouldn’t wake up. Needed me that badly, yeah?”

It was clear that you were shocked, wide-eyed and jaw agape. Not once in your lifetime of friendship with Jake had you seen this feral side to him. You felt his hardening length when he pressed his hips down and groaned. “Come on, sweets. I know you’re smarter than that. You can answer me with words like a big girl.”

You smacked your lips together in disbelief before nodding slowly. “Yeah,” you stuttered. “Need you so bad, Jake.” Your own words surprised you, his boldness rubbing off on you. “Dreamt of you,” you confessed.

Jake raised a brow at you, laying his hand flat on your side. “Yeah? Was I touching you,” he used his hand to push up your shirt, moving faster than his dream counterpart had and groping at your breast, flicking his thumb over the hardening bud. “Like this?”

Nodding fervently, you bit your lip to hold in your moans as he handled you. He clicked his tongue using his other hand to pull at your bottom lip until it was released from your teeth. “Wanna hear you, princess. You had no problem moaning while I was asleep. Unfair to hide them in front of me now, isn’t it?”

He bent down to take your other nipple in his hot mouth, his searing tongue darting out to circle the sensitive bud. His eyes never left yours, watching your expressions as you arched your back to his ministrations. He let go of your nipple, only to blow cold air on it, making you whimper. “What else did I do, pretty?” He asked, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers. “Did I make you feel good?”

“Fuck,” you cried when he thrust his hips against you, giving you a hint as to what was to come. “Made me feel so good, Jake.” You threw your head back as he continued, shallowly thrusting against your clothed core. You weakly pointed at your neck. “Kissed me here,” you sighed when he leaned forward to leave kitten licks against your neck, nipping gently at the skin. “And…”

He bit down on the skin under your ear, using his tongue to soothe the mark before kissing up to your earlobe. “And?” His deep voice resonated within you, making you shiver.

“And then you…” You trailed off, instead opting to run a hand down your front to the waistband of your shorts, not missing the way his eyes followed. “Touched me here.” Tapping over your clothed clit, you avoided his gaze out of shyness, still in disbelief of this situation. “Then I woke up.” Your voice was weak, doused in lust and need for the man in front of you.

He smirked at you, moving back so he could pull your shorts off, leaving you in your oversized tee—an old shirt of his he’d given you before you moved—and your soaked baby blue panties. Even in the dark, he could see how wet you were, the thought making him groan as he palmed himself over his sweats at the sight of you. 

“Poor baby,” he sighed, though you heard no actual sympathy in his tone. “Couldn’t get off in your dream, so you touched yourself like a whore in front of me.” You squirmed at his vulgarity, his words sending shockwaves to your clenching pussy. Shifting his body down the bed so he was laying between your thighs, he left kisses up and down the sensitive skin there. His tongue traced a line from your knee up to where you truly wanted him before stopping right before your panties. His mouth wrapped around your skin as he bit down, hard enough to sting but not hard enough to really hurt.

When he pulled away, a dark hickey had formed. “Shit,” he groaned, “God, I love marking you up.” He looked back up at you, resting on your elbows so you could watch him. “Gonna leave marks all over, yeah? Then you’ll know who made you feel good, pretty girl.”

Mindlessly, you nodded, wanting him to do anything he wanted with you. His every word made you feel impossibly wet, almost embarrassingly so.

Without missing a beat, he kissed your clit over your panties, making you whimper as you thrust your hips up toward his face. “Patience, baby,” he mumbled, tonguing you through the thin fabric of your underwear. “Gonna make you feel good.” Using his teeth, he pulled your panties down, your slick stringing along as he got them to your knees before using his hands to pull them off completely. 

The sight of your exposed cunt, wet and clenching around nothing, made Jake crazy. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he admitted with a groan before he dove into your pussy, licking up your slick. He drew figure-eights over your clit before closing his lips around it and sucking, making you cry out. You felt his long fingers poke at your entrance, the stimulation leaving you a mess of moans and whimpers.

When two of his fingers pushed past your entrance, you both groaned at the feeling of him sliding inside your gummy walls. His tongue worked at your clit as he slowly scissored his fingers inside you, all while watching your reactions. “So hot,” you gasped, clawing at the bed sheets. “Fuck, Jake, gonna…” You cut yourself off, moaning loudly, when he started moving his fingers faster.

“Cum for me, sweets.” His demand seemingly made you snap as you came around his fingers in an instant. He closed his eyes as his jaw dropped in a groan, relishing the feeling of you clenching tightly around his fingers. He slowly took them out, biting his lip at how wet you were. The whine you let out once you were empty would live in his mind for the rest of his days, he decided, as he moved up the bed to come eye to eye with you.

You watched as he sucked his fingers clean of your wetness before leaning in and kissing you harshly. The taste of him mixed with your juices made you moan, grabbing at the fabric of his shirt tightly. He bit your bottom lip, pulling at it slightly before kissing you deeply once more. Your lips slotted together with ease, like two puzzle pieces.

He felt your hand travel down his stomach to the strings of his sweatpants, leaning back to watch as you undid the knot before pulling them down in a swift motion. He sat up to kick the garment off, before returning to his spot between your thighs. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, hunger in your gaze as you inspected his cock, hard against his stomach. It was red, needy and weeping, one pronounced vein running along his shaft. More importantly, he was thick—thicker than any toys you had bought on a whim.

When you looked up at him, he must’ve caught your fear as he cupped your face in his warm palm. Kissing you gently, he brushed your hair back. “We don’t need to go any further if you don’t want us to,” he assured you, even though the hardness of his length said otherwise. “We’ll only go as far as you want to.”

You bit your lip, “Then…” Without another word, you closed a fist around his shaft, watching his eyes widen. “I want to make you feel good, too,” you whispered. You collected some of his precum, using it to glide your hand up and down at a torturous pace, your eyes never leaving his face.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, shoving his face in the crook of your neck. You felt his hot breaths fan over your skin, leaving goosebumps, and he moaned in your ear. His arms were braced on either side of your head, his scent invading your senses as you touched him. “Doing so well for me,” he hushed, kissing at your neck. He nudged your jawline with his nose, sucking down on your jugular. “Shit,” his hips stuttered, thrusting up into your grasp. “Go faster for me, yeah?”

You nodded, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you picked up speed. Using your other hand to grasp his balls, you delighted in the way he groaned a little louder, your name slipping from his lips wantonly. Leaning forward, you bit down on his shoulder, flicking your tongue out just as he had before. With your lips on him, he moaned your name once more, fucking up into your hand with reckless abandon. He swore lowly as his hips stilled, ropes of thick cum spilling from his cock and onto your hands and shirt.

He stayed there momentarily, catching his breath before hovering a bit higher to watch you. Inspecting your hand, you brought it to your lips. His eyes never left your tongue as he watched it dart out to catch any drops of his seed. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he sighed once you finished, wiping off any remains on your soiled tee. He pulled the tee over your head before giving you his own, still warm from being worn. 

“Go to sleep, sweets,” he mumbled against your temple as he settled in next to you. “We’ll talk in the morning, yeah?”

Your morning talk ended up with his tongue between your thighs in the shower as you struggled to keep yourself up, one leg over his shoulder. You were sure the people in the rooms next to you could hear your cries when you came on his tongue for the nth time, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. 

Once he thought you had cum an adequate amount of times, he carefully set you down, massaging your aching thighs as he kissed you gently. Pulling away, he leaned his forehead against yours, eyes still closed. Taking the opportunity, you pecked his lips before reaching for the body wash, giggling.

You never ended up talking about it, getting distracted by Lemon, who whined at the door when you finally came out of the bathroom. 

The rest of the road trip went similarly. You’d hold hands as he drove to your next destination, and then you’d get each other off in your motel rooms until the motel owners eventually kicked you out for disturbances. Between towns, you’d talk as if he wasn’t just knuckles deep in your heat or as if you didn’t just have his cock shoved down your throat as he fucked your face.

Words that needed to be spoken never were. Your fearful thoughts kept you from initiating the conversation that could very well destroy years of friendship with Jake.

ONE DAY.

Finally, you had made it to Seoul. Unfortunately, a flat tire in the middle of nowhere stopped you from getting there two days before, as Chaewon wanted. Luckily, nothing did go wrong and everything seemed to be ready for tomorrow.

Tired from the long trip, both emotionally and physically, Jake offered his house for you to stay at. Without thinking, you said yes. You took his keys and unlocked the door as Jake grabbed your things from the car, Lemon pushing past your feet and into the house, eager to explore.

As she made her way around, her nails against the hardwood floor indicating where she was, you and Jake pushed your luggage into the living room before collapsing onto the couch.

“I’m so happy to be home,” he sighed, stretching his limbs. “As fun as road trips are, nothing beats sleeping in your own bed.” Glancing over at you, a million thoughts raced in his mind, but he pushed them away. He wanted to talk about what you were, the frequent hookups making his brain mush. But he could read you—he always could. You’ve always been so emotive that you made it easy, but he had your habits memorized. He knew exactly when you didn’t want to do something and that you weren’t ready for talking.

So he didn’t say anything, even though he knew it might hurt him in the long run.

Unlike your apartment or the many motels you stayed at over your trip, Jake actually had two beds. The thought of sleeping in separate rooms felt so foreign, but he told you anyway. You hummed, “Maybe I should sleep in the guest room then.” You grinned at him, “You’re probably tired of having to share a bed with me by now.”

Never, he thought.

That night, he lay in his too-empty bed, restless. Knowing you were in the same house, with only a thin wall separating you, was driving him mad. Not having you next to him, curled up against his side, drove him mad. His hand clenched around the bedsheets, where you would’ve been if you had taken up his silent plea to sleep in the same room as him.

In that moment, Jake realizes just how screwed he really is. Covering his eyes with his forearm, he quietly swore into the empty room, his heart aching. Jake had gotten so used to being so close to you, to have you by his side as he pleasured you, your high-pitched cries echoing in his ears. He knew it wouldn’t last forever and that he’d have to drive you home a few days after the wedding. Then, he didn’t know how long it’d be until he saw you again.

He wonders if everything that happened will get brushed under the rug. God, he hoped not. 

Just as he decided he’d need some sleep for the wedding tomorrow, he heard something through the wall. He held his breath, straining his ears to hear the noise's source. Before long, he realized it was you, your short breaths easily passing through the wall, the sound of your slick ringing clear as day to him.

Without another thought, he ripped off his blanket and made his way to the guest room. To his surprise, you hadn’t even closed your door, his eyes blessed with the sight of you atop the bed. Neither the blankets nor the sheets were disturbed, making it clear that you hadn’t even gotten comfortable before you started. He watched in a daze as your fingers plunged in and out of your hole, your face contorted into one of drunken pleasure.

He felt himself grow hard as he stepped closer. You whimpered out his name as you rubbed harsh circles over your clit, and something inside Jake snapped.

“You must love fucking torturing me,” he rasped, roughly pulling your fingers out of your pussy and pinning your hands to the bed, leaving your body fully exposed to him. “Always touching yourself in front of me like a slut. You knew what you were doing, leaving your door open.” When you turned your head away in feigned humiliation, he used his free hand to forcibly turn your cheek. His nails dug into your jaw as he forced you to look at him.

“Do you know how crazy you make me feel?” He asked, but he narrowed his eyes at you when you went to answer. “Do you know how fucking long I’ve wanted to see you like this? Needy and begging for my cock?” His words shut up, the implication of something more making your heart race.

“Do you know how hard it’s been for me to stop myself from making you mine every night we’re together?” He growled, letting go of your hands to push your legs up against your chest. “Do you know how hard it is to refrain from kissing you every time you look at me with that look in your eye?”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him in for a kiss, your lips meeting in a fight for dominance. His hands pushed you deeper against the bed as he pressed himself against you. His patience was wearing thin as he pulled away, only to pull off his shirt before he leaned in again. Your lips, your taste—all of you was addicting to Jake.

“Jake,” you moaned out when he attacked your neck, adding to the healing bruises from before. “‘M ready now. Please, please, make me yours,” you begged, spreading your legs wider for emphasis.

If he wasn’t hard before, he was now at your plea, a growl stuck at the back of his throat at the thought of fucking you like how he’s wanted to. “You sure, princess?” he asked, leaning back to look you in the eye.

“I’ve never been more sure,” you gasped, eyes darting from his left to right. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”

Jake only shook his head, pulling you in for another deep kiss. Jake swallowed your moans, a feeling of possessiveness taking over him as he fondled your breasts. “All mine,” he hissed, “you’re mine.”

He made quick work of his sleep shorts, the garment getting thrown across the room into some corner to be found in the morning. His cock was pretty as ever, and your hands instinctively went to grab at it. “Next time, baby,” he rasped, “Need to take you now.”

You cried out when you felt the tip of his length nudge against your folds, collecting your juices as he ran his cock up and down your cunt. A broken whimper of his name ripped through your throat when he bumped your clit, his own deep moan shaking in his chest. He felt like he was losing his mind, the warmth of your pussy felt so good against his shaft, and he hadn’t even entered you yet.

You felt him line himself up at your entrance, and you tensed. Noticing, Jake left gentle kisses against your shoulder. “I’ll take care of you, pretty, just lay back, yeah?”

You nodded but felt hot tears well up in your eyes as he pushed past your entrance, a stinging burn erupting between your legs. He moved slowly, but inch by inch, the burn became more intense. “It’ll hurt more when you’re this tense, baby,” he whispered, massaging your right breast in hopes of distracting you. His lips met yours in a kiss more gentle than any that preceded it. Screwing your eyes shut, tears beaded at the corners of your eyes before they fell, disappearing into your hairline. He kissed your temple when he finally bottomed out after what felt like years. “Doing so well for me, sweets.”

He stilled for a few minutes despite wanting nothing more but to drill into you. Leaving kisses all over your face and neck, he observed as your face relaxed more and more. “You can move now,” you whispered, out of breath.

“Yeah? Trust me?”

“Mhm,” you closed your eyes—the sting had disappeared, and now you just felt stuffed. “I trust you, Jake.”

Your admittance made his head spin as he dropped his head onto your shoulder. Slowly, he pulled out until just the tip was inside before thrusting into you. A low moan rumbled in your chest as Jake sucked at your neck. He repeated the motion, rocking into you slowly until you got used to it.

After a while, the pain turned to pleasure as you clenched around him, making him gasp against your skin. “Faster, please,” you begged, linking your ankles around his back. “Need you.”

Just as you asked, Jake upped his pace, moving steadily. He sat back gripping your waist as he thrust into you. He watched for your reactions, eyes darting from your scrunched up face to the bouncing of your breasts down to the jiggle of your thighs with each thrust. His speed picked up until he was pistoling into you, broken moans pushing past your lips as his hips slapped against yours.

The sound of your wetness was so obscene, if you were in a normal state of mind you would’ve been embarrassed. But the drag of his cock against your walls and the way his pelvic bone grazed your clit every time he bottomed out was deliciously addicting.  “Feels so fucking good,” Jake moaned, “you’re gripping me so tightly—fuck!—gonna make me cum, princess.” Falling forward, he braced himself on one arm, reaching for your puffy clit with the other. He rubbed fast cirlces on your clit as he pounded into you, the sound of skin against skin turning you on more. You willed yourself to keep your eyes open, to bask in the sight of Jake slowly losing control of his movements as he got closer to his own release.

The sight of him hunched over you, eyes glassy as he furrowed his brows in concentration, beads of sweat dripping from his hairline, causing his blond hair to stick to his forehead, was so fucking hot. You gripped at his arms, muscles bulging as he struggled to keep himself up.

You felt an orgasm fast approaching, your own whines coming out higher and higher. “Fu—ck, Jake,” you swore, “I’m so close, please, I—”

At your words, Jake’s hips moved faster, hitting the spot that made you see stars over and over again. “You look so beautiful like this,” he uttered breathlessly. “Fuck, I love you.” The words spilled from his lips unintentionally, the way your walls clenched around him knocked any sense of thought out of him, his only coherent thought being to make you cream around his cock.

His words echoed in your brain as you came with a cry of his name. The feeling of you cumming sent Jake into overdrive as he pistoned into you, overstimulating you as he chased his release. After a moment, he stilled, coming inside of your cavern. You felt his release paint your walls white, bringing you into a second orgasm.

He stayed inside you for a while, hovering over your tired body as he caught his breath. Eventually, he pulled out, his cum spilling from your clenching hole, making him sigh in pleasure at the sight. He kissed your temple before moving to get off the bed. You watched, spent, as he searched for his shirt in the dark, the hallway light dimly illuminating the room. For a second, you were scared that he was just going to go back to his own room, but after he found the shirt, he came back to your side. Wordlessly, he wiped you clean, even wiping at the beads of sweat that accumulated on your skin.

Tired, he let himself collapse beside you, pulling you against his chest.

“Did you mean it?” you asked in a small voice.

“Hmm?”

“When… When you said you loved me.”

You felt him tense under you for a second before relaxing. His arms held you tighter against his chest, letting you listen to his rapid heartbeat.

“Yeah.” He paused, the cogs in his brain turning as he searched for the right words to say. Nothing he came up with seemed right; he opted to stay silent and waited for your response. When it didn’t come, he looked down at you, only to be met with your sleeping face. He sighed, his breath shaky as his eyes burned. He pressed a single kiss on the crown of your head. “Good night, sweets.”

THREE HOURS.

Chaewon had been spamming your phone, the distinct buzzing of each message waking you up. Jake slept through the sound of you typing, exhausted from the night before.

Where are you???? Get your ass here NOW before I come and get you myself

Are you even awake? 

Girl, if you’re not here in the next hour I’ll punt you into the next century

Swearing, you carefully slipped out of Jake’s grasp. When he didn’t stir, you shook him gently. He mumbled incoherently, wrapping his arms around your middle as he deeply inhaled your scent. “Jake, we gotta’ wake up now. Chaewon’s having a cow and I don’t think we want to upset the bride today.”

At your words, Jake murmured something you couldn’t hear before finally peeling himself off you, looking at you with sleepy eyes and messy hair. “Wha’ time isit?” he slurred, stretching his arm.

“It’s twelve, so we have to go. Like, now.”

Thankfully, that seemed to wake Jake up, and he sat up quickly. “Damn, okay,” he pushed his hair back. “Get changed and everything, and I’ll meet you at the door.”

You watched as he leaped off the bed, picking up his soiled clothes from the floor. He made his way to his own room, and you heard the shower turn on. In the time it took for you to brush your teeth and get changed, Jake had showered and hastily shoved on some comfy clothes, his attire being left with Heeseung as well.

The drive to the hotel where the bridal and groom's parties were getting ready was quiet, partially from sleepiness and partially because of the unfinished conversation from last night, filling the air with thick tension. His hand rested on the middle console, palm up, but you didn’t take it.

When you got to the hotel, you were quickly ushered to your respective rooms by other bridesmaids and groomsmen. Jake could only watch as you disappeared behind a room door before getting shoved into one himself.

He didn’t see you again until later, when the wedding was about to start, and the pairs were meant to walk down the aisle. Since you were Chaewon’s maid of honour and Jake was Heeseung’s best man, you were paired together. When you finally saw him, you felt the air leave your lungs. His hair was styled so it was out of his face, save for a few strands that hooked over his forehead. His suit was entirely dark blue, from his blazer to his tie, and it made him look unfairly handsome.

Your mouth felt dry as you linked arms with him, listening for your cue to walk.

Unbeknownst to you, he felt similar. You looked stunning in your baby blue satin dress, and he thought it hugged your curves in such a way that he almost wanted to cover you up so only he could see you like this. His heart pounded in his chest at your touch. 

“You look beautiful,” he whispered as you waited, making the couples behind you snicker. You blushed, your face warming as you rubbed your lips together anxiously.

“As do you,” you mumbled, looking into his eyes shyly. “You look really good.”

He opened his mouth to say something else, but the doors opened up, and that was your cue. The venue was gorgeous, as expected since Chaewon planned most of it. The sight of the aisle and the altar made your heart soar for her, and you absentmindedly rubbed at your own ring finger the closer you and Jake got to the end of the aisle.

You sent him a smile before you retreated to your respective spots. As the rest of the couples and the flower girl made their way down the aisle, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes on Jake. You wondered how you looked, staring over at the best man when there were so many things you should’ve been paying attention to.

Clearing your throat, you looked forward.

When you finally saw Heeseung, your heart clenched. You fisted the fabric of your dress as you watched him wait for his bride-to-be. This motion didn’t go unseen by Jake, whose jaw clenched.

When Chaewon appeared from behind the door, the room erupted into cheers as everyone stood. Tears sprang to your eyes as you watched your cousin, veiled, take small steps closer to her future husband. You knew your makeup was going to be ruined by the end of the night, but you couldn’t help but cry once she reached Heeseung. You glanced at him once more before staring down at your heeled feet.

The rest of the ceremony went off without a hitch, Chaewon and Heeseung’s beautiful vows leaving everyone in tears. You had even caught Jake wiping away some stray tears. You watched with a sense of longing as Chaewon and Heeseung made their way down the aisle. You didn’t realize that Jake had been staring at you the whole time, not even when it was your turn to walk out.

The banquet was to start half an hour later. You and Jake had gotten separated in the commotion outside of the venue hall. You heard him call out to you, but you couldn’t see him over the large, bustling crowd of wedding guests. Knowing that you’d see him at the banquet, you slipped further into the crowd until you found a balcony. Peaking your head out, you let out a breath of relief when there was no one there.

The sun was setting, casting an orange hue over everything it touched. A beautiful sight, you thought as you leaned against the railing. You closed your eyes as you thought back on the wedding. It had been the exact wedding the Chaewon had planned years ago, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to be truly happy. How could you, after all, after watching Heeseung look at Chaewon with such love and adoration? 

When someone called your name, you turned around to see Jake standing there, slightly unkempt from the crowd. “I finally found you,” he heaved, gesturing back to the hall that was still full of busy wedding goers. “Man, the banquet is literally in the room over from the wedding hall—they couldn’t be a little more patient in moving over?” He shook his head in mock disbelief as he joined you.

He looked at you, ready to make a joke, but paused when he saw your face. His smile dropped as he turned to face you fully. “You’re crying,” he noted, cupping your cheek. You blinked in surprise, having not noticed how tears had welled up in your eyes. “What’s wrong, sweets?”

You turned around, pulling your face out of his grasp, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I don’t know,” you murmured, voice breaking. “I just… when I saw them—”

“Is it Heeseung?”

His cold, clipped tone shocked you. When you looked at him in confusion, his expression had hardened. “What—”

“Why does seeing him with her still hurt you? I thought you were fine,” his words were level, but you heard the slight tremble of his voice.”You said you moved on.” 

Sputtering, you turned to him with an indignant glare. “Jake, it’s not that easy—”

Scoffing, he took a step back from you. “So what? The last two weeks meant nothing to you? Last night meant nothing to you? I…” He gripped at his hair, stressed. “I told you I loved you, and you’re still crying over Heeseung?”

It dawned on you how he perceived your words, and an unsettling fear grabbed at you as you went to explain yourself. “What? Jake, no, I’m not—”

He gave you no room to speak, interrupting you hastily, words tumbling from his lips as though he had no control of them. “I have always loved you,” he confessed, voice breaking. “Ever since we were kids, for me, it’s always been you. I came to you because I love you. I spent these last two weeks with you because I love you, and I want nothing more than for you to see me as more than a best friend or… or someone who’s convenient for you.” You watched in horror as his eyes watered, stepping forward to grab his arm to explain, but he ripped his arm away from your grasp. “I can see now that you never will.”

“Jake, wait—!” Your cry fell on empty ears as he turned to leave you alone on the balcony, his back feeling unreachable as he reached for the doorknob to go back inside. At this point, the crowd in the hall had dispersed, and you were sure the banquet was starting. But none of that mattered—what mattered was stopping Jake from leaving before you could tell him the truth.

Swallowing your fears, you called out his full name. You sighed in relief when he paused, but your hands shook at your sides as you forced your next words out. “He made me feel like I was unlovable,” you uttered, voice just barely above a whisper. For a second, you were worried he hadn’t heard you, but he turned his head slightly. Finding the courage to continue, you stepped forward. “I’m not… I don’t love Heeseung, Jake. I haven’t loved Heeseung for a really fucking long time.”

But what happened between us gave me all of these terrible thoughts that I didn’t…. That I don’t know how to handle. I thought I was perfectly fine dealing with my insecurities on my own before you came.” He turn his head more, allowing you to see his profile. You saw him open his mouth, ready to retort, but you narrowed your eyes at him. “Sim Jaeyun, if you interrupt me again, I’ll kick your ass.” Your threat wasn’t all that threatening, considering the fact that you were near to tears, but he listened and shut his mouth.

“When you showed up at my apartment, I thought I was going mad. You made me feel like that. It was suddenly so different between us and I didn’t know what to do. You kept saying these things like you were trying to fluster me, and I couldn’t tell if you were being genuine or if my fucked up mind was just creating scenarios where you might actually love me.” Tears were freely falling now, smudging your eye makeup and leaving its trail in your foundation. You stepped closer to Jake, who had fully turned to face you. You stopped, leaving a few meters between you as if you were scared of crossing an invisible boundary.

“Last night was the best night of my life. And every time before that, you made me feel complete and made me so happy, Jake. You made me feel… normal. It felt like I was myself again for the first time in months, but there was something else there, too.” You looked into his eyes, unable to tell what he was thinking. You swallowed thickly, “I don’t love Heeseung, and you’re a fool if you think I do. But it’s so fucking hard to shake off the feeling that at any point you could find someone better, someone who’s prettier, or—”

Jake was quick to close the distance between you, his lips downturned into a scowl as he glowered at you. “Just shut up already,” he spat, cupping your face in his hands and bringing his lips to yours. You felt a thousand times lighter as you kissed him back with the same fervour as him, your tears mixing into the kiss. He dropped a hand to rest on your hip, bringing you flush against him. Once he pulled away, you were both breathless. He rested his forehead against yours as his shoulders rose and fell quickly.

When he finally opened his eyes, gone was the pain and hurt. Now, when he looked at you, he looked with adoring eyes. “I love you,” he whispered. “You might not believe me yet, but just know that whenever I look at you, all I see is the person I want to spend my life with. There isn’t anyone better or prettier—there’s only you.”

He met your eyes before kissing you again. 

You looked into his eyes once you pulled away, a thousand thoughts swirling behind your irises. “I love you,” you breathed out. You reached for his hand, interlocking your fingers together as you smiled tearfully at him. “Help me believe you.”

Jake laughed in disbelief, bringing you close to his chest.

“We have all the time in the world to get there, sweets.”

©WONLOVIE please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

[bedazzlecunt]

i get sooo many asks and DMs asking for tips on how to get better at edging so i wanted to make an actual post about how i turned myself into a total edgeslut — and how you can, too! there's really only one main 'rule' to follow while you're learning how to edge, so i promise you can do it! this info should still be applicable regardless of your particular genitalia, but i mostly reference cunts because that's what i've got.

the one rule!

my ultimate suggestion for people who are new to edging and finding it almost impossible is to STOP TRYING TO EDGE. some of you are going like that's crazy edging is all i want to do! but listen to me. listen to me. we are going to get you there.

if horniness is a scale of one to ten, with one being 'not horny at all' and ten being 'orgasming' the ideal edging situation is that you get to a nine and then stop. that's really hard to do, though! but you could probably get to a four and stop, right? pretty easily, even.

that's what you want to do. figure out that highest number on that scale you can go and still stop, and go to that number. do this a lot. i love, love, LOVE touching like this, even now that i am a pro at edging, because there's zero risk of going over and it's still a great tool to keep you horny / submissive / feeling hot as hell / whatever it is you want to get out of edging.

start at bringing yourself to a four and then stop. once you've mastered that, once that feels almost too easy, move up to a five. then a six. seven. i encourage you not to cum at all while you're doing this, but also, i'm not your dom! do what you want! the point is you're touching-without-cumming a lot (which is great practice all on it's own) and you're acclimating your body to getting horny, sometimes even REALLY horny, without actually cumming every time it happens.

doing this regularly also has the pleasant side-effect keeping you aroused more often than not. if you're constantly bringing yourself to level seven horniness and then stopping, you are almost never going to drop below level three. you are going to be turned on a LOT, which feels sooooo good. which leads to...

getting addicted*!

the thing about being always horny, about touching yourself all the time, about never cumming, is that it feels really, really good. people wouldn't do denial if it didn't! and once you've had a month or so of touching-but-not-edging and your body's adjusted to the sense of being constantly turned on and how good it feels, it gets to a point where cumming is a lot less appealing. you know it's going to take away the good, horny, happy feeling that you're getting addicted to! once you've come to really, really enjoy being constantly horny, and come to associate the idea of cumming with losing that good feeling, that makes it a lot easier to keep from going over as you creep up to higher levels like eight and nine. and even when you do go over, the fact that you'll lose the sensation that you've come to enjoy so much will just reinforce for you that it's better not to cum!

*i'm using addicted as a fun little hyperbole word here, but i do want to add the disclaimer that if your edging / horniness / etc. starts to interfere with your life like a real addiction then you gotta stop that before you hurt yourself. do not actually jeopardize your job/relationships/etc. for kink.

edging!

by this point, you'll have lots of practice at masturbating without going over and you'll be addicted to the feeling of being constantly turned on — and you'll dread the thought of losing that feeling. those things combined are the peak edging scenario. this is the point when you can start trying to edge seriously; bringing yourself to a nine on our horny scale and stopping.

you will probably still go over occasionally as you figure out your actual limits — don't be angry at yourself for this, but do refrain from trying to edge again on days you go over. the last thing you want is to reacclimate your body to coming regularly. if you try to edge in the morning but go over by mistake, just bring yourself to a level eight for the rest of the times you masturbate and try again tomorrow. eventually, you'll know your limits, be addicted to the feeling of being edged, and be really practiced at doing it!

if you're still having trouble or just want to play in new ways, then find out what turns you on but you can't orgasm from. your nipples are sensitive enough to break your brain but you can't orgasm just from that? well then get to playing with them, dummy! love penetration but can't come from it without clit stimulation? tape off your clit and get fucking! i can never cum just from humping a pillow or grinding on something, so grinding is a great way for me to edge! try to find stuff that makes you really, really horny but that you can't orgasm from and really lean into those things!

[hannieween]

wanderer | heartbreaker series | c.sc

You were far from the girl that Seungcheol use to love. Because, time has a funny way of changing things and it sure as hell changed you.

✧ pairing: choi seungcheol x afab!reader ✧ genre: smut (18+) ✧ aus: boss seungcheol, exes to lovers ✧ word count: 18.5k

↣ part i | other fics | taglist | ko-fi

₊🎧: blame – i.m ♡ | bad – so!yoon

₊ nsfw tags under the cut

✧ warnings: hurt/comfort harassment: gross interactions with men, kinda ? slow burn—it takes them a while to get down to business, foul language, smut with plot, daddy kink, dom seungcheol, reader is really subby, big dick seungcheol, pussy drunk seungcheol, oral sex (f, m), multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v sex, manhandling, rough doggy style, creampies, dirty talk, pet names: love, angel, baby, newb, newbie (hers) daddy (his) ✧ please if you see mistakes, cont. errors no u didn't i'm very sleep deprived

✧ disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.

part ii

A streak of bad luck has been following you around lately, so it seems.

The past few days you have been stuck with a decision, one apparently easy to make, but something held you back. And the dilemma had settled a feeling of deep regret in the pit of your stomach, from the moment you wake up, to the moment you laid your head in your pillows.

You were used to late nights. In fact, for the past two years you've been staying up late, dealing with the stressful pace of academic life and it slowly made you lose the need for sleep at night.

It was only 2 AM. And you were tired enough to force yourself to sleep, but the dilemma had you feeling alarmed and anxious to the point that it shook your body, impulsing you to take action, to do something, anything.

You sighed, trying to relieve the tumultuous pressure crushing you from the inside.

In a sudden movement, you swung your legs over the edge of your bed, sitting up and saw your feet hanging.

You remembered the times you wished you could just pick up the phone and call your ex boyfriend and tell him how much you missed him, and how deeply remorseful you were of breaking up with him.

It haunted you for weeks, which turned into months and now you were faced with the possibility of going back together, after two years of zero contact.

But, even if it seemed impossible, going back to Choi Seungcheol was not the most urgent of your decisions to make.

Bad luck, it seems.

First, you had to get a job quick in a local bar due to your bills piling up and your stipend not being sufficient to live on. Then, you had the surprise to find that your ex is the owner of said bar. Not only that, things had ended up bad with him. So the only solution was to have sex with him on his office, obviously.

And now, your roommate is giving you the very late notice that you have been mandated to vacate the apartment you've been renting for a year. Apparently you got the notice a month ago, but your roommate just forgot to tell you until it was evidently too late.

You packed your things, which luckily for you, were not many. So you only occupied a few boxes for your clothes and stuff that fit perfectly on the trunk of your car and the backseat.

Now, you just needed a new place.

And it was in the following morning that you decided to leave your apartment. You knew that this situation could be solved through some legal counsel, but for months, you and your roommate have been at odds and you suspected that was why they 'forgot' to tell you about it all.

It was tuesday and also the day that you had to vacate your place. Returning to the bar after a day off was not as fulfilling in the sense that you had little to no rest. Packing things, disposing of some others.

And now, you needed to sleep.

But the memory of fucking your ex occupied your head, it needed your attention. His hands all over your body, his soft moans in your ear, the very familiar touch of his lips. The memory itself felt like a fever dream.

A dream which you dragged onto your subconscious long enough to also haunt you in your sleep, when it finally came. You dreamed of him, you saw flashes of the night you met him and experienced again all the awful things you made him go through.

The sensible thing was to let your boss know that you had run into trouble and needed to find a place soon. But being so that would mean talking to Seungcheol, you decided not to tell anyone just yet. You could manage, you could get crafty.

Sleeping in your battered Hyundai was a whole new adventure for you. And you were pretty much all for it. You made it feel cozy for you: throwing a bunch of pillows and blankets on the co-pilot seat, leaned back and you even found a way to change into your pyjamas inside the car.

But that would come after your shift.

Tuesdays, according to Wonwoo, were really slow. To the point that he was leaning on the countertop, each elbow propped to hold a book in his hands.

"Where's Mingyu?" you asked when the bar opened for business and were one bartender short.

"He's not coming today," Wonwoo, his roommate replied shortly.

"Is he okay?"

"He'll be alright," he cooed and lowered his book, pushing the rim of his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "His girl broke up with him yesterday morning."

"Huh? Why?" you gasped. "I thought–"

"Yeah, me too," Wonwoo said and scrunched up his nose in discomfort. "It caught him by surprise too, destroyed him. Boss told him he could take the day off."

You faltered for a second. "God, he must be feeling terrible," you said and thought of the happy-go-lucky guy, heartbroken.

"Mmm-mph," Wonwoo hummed and clasped his hands together on the countertop. "Well, there's not much to do for today, I think. Boss will come by later tonight so maybe we could do the little boring tasks."

And by that, Wonwoo meant doing the things you did not have the opportunity to get done during the weekend shifts, tasks ranged from the usual to deep cleaning.

"You have a thing for cleanliness," you pointed after an hour of deep cleaning all the utensils for the bar, the blenders, the mixers. He even emptied the ice machine and gave it a thorough sweep.

"It clears my mind off things," he mentioned quietly beside you.

"Mm, I see what you mean," you nodded. It had been an hour of pure silence between you, except for the low humming of the speakers that played something of your request and you noticed that Wonwoo was silently vibing to it.

Wonwoo could be a friend, you thought.

"What does your mind need clearing of?" you pried while you cleaned all of the napkin holders thoroughly.

"A few things that have been occupying it for a few days," he replied with a soft tone to his voice.

"I assume as much," you quipped with a grin, which he did not see. Wonwoo's back was turned to you as he seemed to be finishing the tedious task.

"That's bartender talk," Wonwoo said, turning around as he dried his hands from the little bits of ice with a cloth rag.

"Or friend talk?" you suggested with a shy smile.

One thing you were certain of these past few days of drowning in your own thoughts in silence was that you needed friends. It was a truth you've been ignoring for your own sake.

After the breakup, your closest friends seemed to fade quietly into the background, evidently siding with Seungcheol. Since most of your friends were his friends too, it was obvious whose side they had taken, but you did not resent them for their choices.

"It's nothing, newbie," Wonwoo sighed and nodded to the task you were in the process of. "Almost done with that?"

"Yeah, why?" you said, trying not to convey that Wonwoo just refused your invitation of being friends.

"Boss is coming," he said, and he sent an inquisitive glance your way and nodded to the front door of the bar.

You jolted and turned with a gasp to face the door before you could even take control of your body.

Only to find that the door stood still, and no one was approaching it.

"What?"

Wonwoo coughed and you turned to see him, a weak attempt to hide a chuckle. "I see," he said in a nonchalant manner.

"What? What do you see?" your eyes narrowed.

He mumbled with a very tiny voice an unconvincing 'nothing', pretending to busy himself with another task.

"Tell me," you insisted, glaring at him.

Wonwoo looked over the thick paste of his glasses and grinned at your seething expression. "Fine, okay," he said and stood up right facing you. "Do you... have a crush on him?"

"A crush?" your voice raised an octave higher. "A crush?!"

Wonwoo pursed his lips and cocked his head to the side. "Yeah, like a minor infatuation–"

"I know what a crush is, Wonwoo," you stopped him with a laugh.

"Ah, yeah. Well, do you?" he pushed his eyebrows.

"Why would I have a crush on him? I met him last week," you muttered unconvincingly and looked away from his curious eyes.

"And? I'm only asking because you act weird around him, even when he's not being a pissy asshole," he put in and you raised your gaze to find him scratching his chin.

"I don't think he's a pissy asshole," you interjected, and then shook your head. "I mean, he can be sometimes, but he has given me no reason to think that."

Wonwoo chuckled. "Right. Wait 'til something really pisses him off," he muttered. "But that's not what I wanted to say! You're really calm and collected and the minute he steps in, you're weird and shifty."

You looked at him in disbelief.

Wonwoo and Mingyu have been every step of the way with you since you started working at Seungcheol's bar. And you saw a potential of starting a friendship with both of them. It felt good to finally have a talk with someone in such a way.

"You are quite the detective," you pointed with a huff. "I just feel unnerved by him, Wonwoo. What can I say, you really helped pushing the asshole narrative around him."

"Around who?"

A gasp left your mouth again, but now it sent real shivers down your spine. You turned around to find Seungcheol standing behind you, quirking up an eyebrow at you.

"No one," you stuttered.

He wore what he usually did to work, just a plain white t-shirt, black jeans and boots. A pair of sunglasses pushed his pale blond hair back, it was still humid from what you assumed was a recently taken shower.

"Why are you chatting during work?" he asked with a low tone and looked at Wonwoo.

"I–we, we were working!" you blurted and dropped your gaze to your feet. "And talking... for a bit."

"What about?"

"A-bout something," you muttered nervously.

"Boss, she's terrified," Wonwoo chuckled and you lifted your gaze to see Seungcheol grinning from ear to ear.

And then he winked at you.

Your stomach dropped and you turned to see that Wonwoo was not watching your interaction with your ex turned boss.

"It's a slow day today," Seungcheol said with a commanding aura. "But don't relax too much, we're one staff short out here and I have a meeting later today so I can't be around much. It'll be just you two."

"Got it boss," Wonwoo nodded.

You nodded too, unable to speak a word under the nervousness tying a knot in your throat.

Wonwoo left the countertop and entered the kitchen, promptly leaving you and Seungcheol alone.

"How are you?" Seungcheol asked, his gaze had softened and started reading your face.

"I'm fine, Cheol," you put in unconvincingly. "Just a bit tired."

"We're just starting the week," he pointed, his eyebrow lifting slightly.

"I don't get rest," you said and added: "PhD stuff," you shrugged.

A restless feeling made your insides twist. Seungcheol knew you better than anyone on the planet. He knew your every mannerism when you lied and the shrug was a dead giveaway.

And he was also one of the smartest men you've ever met in your life.

"You better get around managing your time with that," he advised. "Don't want you to be overworked one week into this job."

You noticed his tone was not condescending, he looked a bit worried, even. His big brown eyes went over your worn expression, the dark circles under your eyes, chapped lips. And probably it did not help that you decided to forgo makeup that day.

"Okay... boss," you muttered softly.

But he was turning away from you already, effectively finishing your conversation when he pushed the 'STAFF ONLY' door and disappeared.

Deeply obfuscated, you meekly rubbed your hands in your jeans to wipe the sweat from them and returned to your seemingly pointless task, wanting nothing more but your shift to be over.

Seungcheol had been distant, keeping interactions with you at minimum. You understood he was giving you space, but you could not help but thing that he was probably taking your silence for a rejection to his proposal of going back together.

That night you had sex with him in his 'office', Seungcheol told you to think about his proposal, and give him an answer whenever and if you're ready.

"You don't have to give me an answer right now," he had whispered, leaning down to plant a kiss on your cheek. "But please think about it, will you?"

You saw his brows knit together and you could've swore something stabbed you in the heart. "I will. I'll think about it," you assured him.

From that moment on, there was not a single day when you did not think about him. He plagued your mind, every day and every hour. The feeling of Seungcheol being in your waking thought resembled the time you were freshly broken up, and there was not a day that went by that you didn't think of him.

But of course, this time it was different.

After your shift, you pretended to drive away in your car, only to get back after driving a good fifteen minutes around the block and parking on the small parking lot of the bar.

Sleeping in your old Hyundai was a whole new adventure for you. And you were pretty much all for it. You made it feel cozy for you: throwing a bunch of pillows and blankets on the co-pilot seat, leaned back and you even found a way to change into your pyjamas inside the car.

You rested your head and propped up your feet on the deck while you tried to sleep. First night sleeping in your car was not bad, even as a voice in the back of your mind told you this was supposed to be hitting rock bottom.

But in reality, it wasn't. It was temporary, you told yourself. Shit happens. And you got yourself in this mess, so you would get yourself out.

Now, another one of the worries in your head was something that you feared so much you tried not to pay attention to: Seungcheol.

Being the one that broke up with him, you certainly had a lot of guilt to carry. And you still needed to have that conversation with Seungcheol, even if he was apparently avoiding it.

Said guilt manifested itself as a painful jolt in your heart every single time you thought about him. You knew you still loved him, probably never stopped. But you also broke his heart.

If you were even thinking of going back to him, you needed to have that conversation. And you weren't sure if you were equipped to face what he had to say.

Last time you checked the clock before finally falling asleep it read 5 AM. Which would mean that you had about three hours to sleep if you wanted to get important stuff done the following day.

On the following morning, you woke up at 11 AM. You quickly changed into normal clothes inside your car. It was so cold outside that your windows were thankfully condensed. You couldn't see out and probably and hopefully no one saw you change clothes.

You drove to your university campus. One of the perks of the campus was the gym, which had showers and hot water, everything you needed to freshen up. You tended to your needs and quickly moved to the library to do some apartment scouting.

Being in a PhD meant that you had to do a lot of research, mostly. Your tasks were reading, writing and presenting weekly results. But due to the time crunch you were in, you had to make do and search for a new place to live and send out some emails pertaining to your research.

So you had about six hours to maybe find a place to move in as soon as possible. It was a difficult feat, though, to find something affordable, in a close proximity to where you used to live and leasing immediately.

Hours flew by, your stomach jolting from anxiousness and hunger when you had to leave the library and drive to the bar.

You bit the inside of your lower lip. The mere idea of seeing Seungcheol had you sighing and muffling a small yelp of pure anxiety and your forehead hit the steering wheel, and you did it again, and again.

Three taps on your window made you jump in your seat and look up to find Wonwoo standing outside of your car, looking to the interior with a concerned face.

"Are you okay, newbie?" he asked, standing back as you opened the door of your car and stepped out.

"I'm fine, just hungry," you partially lied. You were hungry, but that was not the reason why you were banging your head against the wheel.

"You know that you have a meal, right? Boss didn't tell you?" he said slowly, pointing to the bar with his thumb.

"Nope," you shook your head once.

His eyes focused on the backseat of your car, which was stuffed with boxes, then he spotted your blankets and pillows huddled in the passenger's seat.

"Are you–," his eyes snapped back to yours. "Are you living in your car?"

You closed your eyes in defeat, sighing. "Yes," you replied flatly.

"Why?" he looked alarmed, but then he quickly added: "Are you okay? Do you want a place to crash?"

"I'm fine, Wonwoo," you tried to reassure him, but the tone in your voice betrayed you. "I... like it."

He blinked in bewilderment. "You're telling me that this is your choice?"

Wonwoo was so tall that you had to angle your face up to see him, your eyes squinted because of the daylight hitting your eyes.

"Yeah, it is," you weren't lying, but telling the whole story didn't seem like something you were equipped to do at the moment.

"I'd ask if you have someone you can stay with but if you did you'd be doing that already," he put in simply and then crunched his nose instantly. "Crap, sorry. Please ignore I said that."

You laughed awkwardly. "What was that?"

"I tend to have Freudian slips when I'm really really tired," he brought a hand to the nape of his neck to rub embarrassedly.

"What–Freudian slips," you huffed. "Well don't let me be around you every time you don't get enough sleep," you laughed.

"Just smack me in the head if I say something like that again," he looked embarrassed and it was a cute sight from the ever reserved Wonwoo.

"Noted," your eyebrows quirked up. "But I'm fine, you don't have to worry."

"You're not convincing me," he stated. "You can crash in our place, I promise Mingyu won't have an issue with it," he offered kindly.

Your heart swelled a little to the idea of someone worrying about you. Even if that someone you didn't completely know yet.

"And we're also not like, creepy or whatever. We'll give you space," he added, seeing your hesitation over it.

"I'll think about it over food, alright?" you gave him a weak smile. "Thank you, though. I really appreciate it."

That made him smile sweetly at you and nodded towards the bar with his head. "Alright, let's go inside."

"Hey, can I ask you a favour?" you walked by his side through the small parking lot behind the bar.

"Sure, anything," he nodded again with his head.

"Can you... not mention this to anyone? Specially Se-seungcheol?" you stuttered a bit.

He paused and looked at you. "You got it," he replied with a hint of intrigue in his eyes.

"Thanks," you muttered before going through the back door of the bar.

The dark hallway smelled faintly of floor detergent like it did before your shift. All of the doors were closed, so you didn't know yet where Seungcheol was yet as you walked through the door that led to the interior of the bar.

"No problem," he muttered softly and opened the door that led to the bar. "The reason why I approached you was because I have something I forgot to tell you last night."

You smiled. "You're being weird," you pointed. "Tell me."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, to then toss his backpack in the last booth at the back of the bar. "I'm tired, leave me alone," he muttered shyly. "I'm recruiting an extra pair of hands to help you during the weekends. I'm actually interviewing someone in a few minutes."

"Oh?" your eyebrows arched up. "That's nice! Do you want any pointers for your jerk persona now?"

He laughed shyly, his nose wrinkling a bit. "It's okay, Newbie. I'm not doing that this time."

"Why?" you frowned.

"Cheol is going to listen to the interview. And I don't want to see what his reaction would be," he muttered, looking around the bar for any signs of his boss. Your boss.

"Yeah, I wouldn't either," you mumbled with a smile.

"Go get your meal and I'll cover you if necessary, got it?" he nodded to the kitchen.

Wonwoo could be a friend, you thought. You had friends, yes. Some people you met in university that are in your life.

After the breakup, your closest friends seemed to fade quietly into the background, siding with Seungcheol. Since most of your friends were his friends too, it was obvious whose side they had taken, but you didn't resent them for their choice.

The menu for today was chicken hamburgers.

Mingyu sat with you in the kitchen, keeping each other company as you both ate in silence. Mingyu ate his food at a slow pace and heavy reluctance. You noticed he was hungry enough to keep eating, but had little to no energy to do so.

It broke your heart to see him like this, his puppy eyes dimmed, the heaviness of his movements, barely talking. You gently patted his shoulder once and he almost jolted awake from his thoughts.

Mingyu patted the back of your hand and nodded in understanding.

You briefly thought of Seungcheol and that made your heart lurch even harder. Who stood by him when you left?

When you came out of the kitchen, some ten minutes later you started with your tasks, which mainly consisted in arranging cutlery, napkins, etc.

You could hear over the music Wonwoo's low voice speak with another person. So you assumed that he perhaps was in his interview, and you knew Seungcheol would be close, so you stuck to the other side of the bar, pretending to be busy.

The day before, during your shift, you took the same tactic: pretending to be busy to avoid even looking in the direction of your ex.

So you were restocking bottles of ketchup in the bartop where Mingyu was also busy himself, and didn't looked as glum when he had something to do.

His eyes lifted up and toward the bar's entrance.

"Oh, hi there Jeonghan-hyung," he called with a lazy smile. "Are you here to see Cheol?"

The exchange was quick, so the moment you looked up from Mingyu to the person he was talking to, you saw your former best friend walk into the bar, but stopping dead in his tracks when he saw your face.

"Jeonghan?" you blurted, your voice quivered with emotion, picking up a higher pitched tone.

His eyes widened and he approached cautiously as if he had seen a ghost. You identified with the feeling; your heart was pounding a mile a minute as you struggled to maintain your composure.

Despite your best efforts, tears welled up in your eyes, overwhelmed by the emotion of seeing your best friend after years of no contact.

"Oh, you two guys know each other?" Mingyu's voice sounded faint in the buzz in your ears.

His brow furrowed. "Uh, yeah, she's-"

You made a motion to shook your head ever so slightly, as if saying stop right now, abort mission, and he, knowing you like the palm of his hand understood in a second.

"She's an old friend," he pressed his lips in an empty smile. He closed the distance between you and him.

You flinched a little when he pulled you into a hesitant hug, seemingly playing his part in the old friends thing; a situation you hadn't entirely processed yet. At least he understood your silent message and stopped himself from mentioning you were Seungcheol's ex.

"You got some explaining to do," he muttered in your ear so quickly that you had to take a second to process what he'd said.

"I know," you whispered and pulled away.

Jeonghan was the first friend Seungcheol introduced you to when you started dating, almost six years ago. The two of you hit it off instantly and formed a strong bond that ended rather tragically when you left.

So it could probably come as a shock to find the person who broke his best friend's heart after two years of zero contact.

And you didn't blame him.

"Uh, yeah. We're old friends," you muttered shakily, turning away from the still pale looking Jeonghan.

"Are you working here?" he asked in a low tone, and looked around.

You followed his gaze, understanding that he was looking for Seungcheol.

"Yeah," you replied with a shaky breath. "I've only been here for two weeks."

"What?" he whispered bewilderedly. "Where is he?"

"If you're looking for Cheol, he's interviewing someone right now," Mingyu interjected, still paying close attention to the conversation between you and your former friend.

Your eyes could not stop looking at him. Unchanging, never aging Jeonghan. Once your best friend, your brother and confidant. The ache in your heart was so sharp that it made your breathing quicken, swelling in your chest.

Jeonghan nodded. "Mingoo, can you tell him that I'm here, please?"

"Of course," the taller man turned to carry out the favour.

It was evident to you that Jeonghan wanted to get a minute alone with you. If Mingyu noticed it too, he didn't look the part.

"What the fuck?" Jeonghan whispered, dragging you to a corner and far from the ears of anyone else. "I thought you were in the other side of the planet. The fuck are you doing here? In Cheol's bar?"

"I came ba-back a year ago," you muttered, the internal turmoil had your in the brink of shaking.

"And?" his hand was still on your shoulder from where he dragged you out of earshot, he was leaning slightly toward you, still looking deeply confused and alarmed.

"I'm cut off from my family–,"

"Again? Fuck," he run his hand through his short black hair irately.

"This time is definite," you repeated the same thing you did to your ex. "And I needed a job so I got here but I swear I had no idea this was Seungcheol's. I promise I didn't know and Wonwoo hired me and–"

"Stop, stop," he whispered hurriedly, looking over at the bartop.

Wonwoo was returning from the interview, looking over at you and Jeonghan with his analytic eyes, the expression on his face didn't give away anything else.

"Han," Mingyu called from behind the bartop. "Boss says to meet him in his office."

Jeonghan nodded and turned to look at you. "They don't know, right?" he muttered through tight lips.

"Seungcheol doesn't want them to know."

"Fucking hell," he said under a breath. "I'll be back in a bit, okay?"

You nodded, feeling like you could cry. Which Jeonghan noticed, and quickly snuck a hand on the back of your head to pull you in a warm embrace, your face landed on his shoulder and you stifled back a sob.

"Come on, don't cry. Everything's fine," he muttered softly. "Bar's almost about to open and you don't want to be all puffy and red for that now, do ya?"

"Shuddup, Han," you giggled.

"I'm just saying. Now, I have to get going. But I'll call you okay?"

The hand on the back of your head ruffled your hair before pulling away, and you watched him walk away and disappear through the door that led to your ex's office.

You stood there contemplating the nothingness for a second before you felt someone's eyes looking fixedly at you. Wonwoo was working, but keeping an inquisitive eye on you.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to ignore his scrutiny by continuing to get the bar ready for open hours.

When the bar finally opened, you were eager to immerse yourself carrying orders out and basically doing anything that could distance yourself mentally from your ex.

After an hour, Jeonghan came back to the bar, looking the way he did when he needed to speak his mind. But he just pulled you aside after making sure you were free enough to do so.

"I'm still confused about all this shit," he muttered briefly. "Look, I only came here to drop something off and I need to go, but I want to catch up with you," then he hugged you again.

You returned the hug, closing your eyes to savour the moment as best as you could.

"I'll see you soon," he reassured you and pulled away once again, leaving the bar at once.

In a few words, your day was a bit shitty so far. It was the first time in two years you saw Jeonghan, who in all fairness, had all the right to not even acknowledge you after leaving his best friend heartbroken.

But to your surprise, he was open to have a conversation with you.

Something you were looking forward to.

The bar was starting to really pack up by 9 PM. And you understood what Wonwoo said about having a helping hand soon, because you could barely manage. Being a wednesday night, the bar was reasonably packed and you were growing more and more tired.

So you had to deal with a number of problems: despite being quick and efficient, you were only one person to cover most of the tables. Most of your orders got delivered on time, but you couldn't always be as fast enough and a couple of customers were starting to get annoyed.

Feeling stressed, you let out a heavy breath while you looked at the machine, preparing the bill for a table.

"Do you want some help?" you heard Seungcheol ask.

You turned abruptly with a start, a hand flying to your chest. "You scared me," you explained but it was evident enough.

His eyebrow arched and his lips pressed in a line. "I have to stop doing that," he muttered with a nod.

"Yeah," you sighed, straightening your t-shirt. "I'll appreciate that—some help, I mean. Thanks," you tried giving him a smile.

But you just couldn't. You looked up at his dark eyes, adorned by his beautiful eyebrows that frowned at seeing your face.

"Something wrong?" he muttered, reading your face.

"Can we-," you started, but you got distracted by someone on the tables waving for your attention. "Sorry, I have to get this," you got the bill and grabbed the pin pad and left to continue working.

You walked over to the table that was occupied by two older men. The one that had waved you down had that look on his face that made your skin crawl and put your guard up.

"There you are, sweetcheeks," he said in a gruff voice, raw from alcohol. "What took you so goddamn long?"

In your experience, you've had many people call you things. It certainly doesn't matter in those times you notice the names mean no harm. But this time, it was different.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up, and something told you to finish the interaction and ask for backup immediately.

"Are you ready to order?" you put in flatly, trying to maintain your expression blank.

"Oof," the other one interjected. "Aren't you nice," he spat with an obvious tone of sarcasm.

You sighed heavily and clicked your pen and pretended to wait for them to order.

"Are we boring you?" one of them spat.

At that, you knew you had to finish the interaction.

"Well, let me know when you're ready to order," you retorted and turned away from the table.

But a rough, calloused hand caught your wrist before you could walk away properly.

"Don't go yet, kitten," one of the two gross men whinged, you didn't care to look who it was.

In a split second, you thought of responding verbally to back off. But every cell in your body just wanted to walk away from the situation. Dealing with gross men was not something you wanted to do in that moment, you just wanted to walk away.

With a clean move, you yanked your wrist away from their grasp, turning to give the deadliest stare you could muster to the guy that dared to touch you and walked away hurriedly.

Neither of Wonwoo or Mingyu appeared to have witnessed the crude exchange. But in your hurry, you stumbled against Seungcheol who was just walking past you.

"What's wrong?" he stopped you, looking at your face carefully.

You probably looked disturbed, and rightfully so—you felt deeply unnerved. It was not your first time dealing with gross men, it wasn't even your first interaction with someone rude in the bar, but it was the first time someone dared to touch you.

"Nothing—those guys are fucking rude," you muttered offhandedly, but you knew there was no deterring from Seungcheol's scrutiny.

"What did they say? What did they do?" he asked darkly.

"Cheol, I'm fine, just–," you looked up, his gaze had hardened completely. You faltered. "They grabbed me and called me gross names," you blurted and held your wrist, trying not to convulse in utter repulsion.

"Who?"

His eyes were devoid of all liveliness, jaw clenched, nostrils flaring. That was the real angry Seungcheol you knew.

You pointed meekly towards the table you just walked away from.

"Go to my office," he muttered before approaching the table.

The last thing you saw was Seungcheol make a sign with his hand at Wonwoo, who just nodded and left his post in a heartbeat before you walked to the door and into the hallway.

You made a stop at the bathroom to frantically wash your hands and attempt to calm yourself down. The attempt was futile, though, because you felt like you had been shaken to your core.

When you opened the door to Seungcheol's office, you half expected to find the dark room lively and packed with gamblers. But it was completely vacant, it made you feel uneasy. You desired to hear the bustle of the active gambling tables.

Instead, you sat at a chair near the entrance. Not wanting to go to Seungcheol's large desk in the corner of the room for obvious reasons.

The door was pushed open some ten minutes later, which to you felt like an eternity.

"Are you alright?" Seungcheol closed the door behind him, but he didn't approach.

You nodded with your head. "I'm fine," you muttered. "What happened?"

He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "It's taken care of," he replied simply.

But you knew he was acting controlled—probably still containing his anger.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, feeling ashamed. "I could've handled the situation–"

"You don't have to apologize," he cut in, lifting a hand to stop you.

He closed the distance between you and him and crouched in front of you, so now, you were looking down to find his dark gaze.

"Nobody lays a finger on you. You know that, right?" he said as he reached for your hand, giving it a squeeze.

The many times you've heard Seungcheol say that in the past. Oh god, the mental whiplash it gave you to see him like this again, to hear him say the same things he used to when you were together.

You bit your quivering lower lip and nodded. "I know," you replied.

"I can't prevent something like that from happening again. But never apologize for stuff like this. It's not your fault."

You sighed heavily because of the emotions swelling your chest. "Alright," you whispered.

His dark eyes studied your face again, noticing how shaken you still were because he stood up, not letting go of your hand to pull your body gently to his own.

"Come here," he muttered.

You stood up from the chair, being pulled to a warm embrace by Seungcheol. You buried your head in his hard chest and at that, you let yourself crumble under the swell of emotions that plagued your whole day.

"It's okay, baby. It's okay," he whispered, bringing a hand to caress your hair.

God, you could die in his arms. It surely felt like that. So many times had he lent a shoulder for you to air out your emotions, but this time felt like being born again. You stayed in his arms for quite some time until you felt like you were okay and slowly pulled away.

"Are you feeling better now?" he asked in a soft tone.

You nodded, avoiding his eyes. "'m fine. I have to go back," you muttered.

"You don't need to if you don't want to," he suggested.

"That's not fair for the guys," you pointed. "I'll go back. Thank you for... everything," you darted a look.

At seeing his serene eyes, your insides jolted uneasily. You urged to kiss him, to listen to his voice and laugh, it had been so long since you've heard his bursts of laughter you ached for it.

Seungcheol was looking at you attentively, his eyebrows nudged slightly. "You were going to tell me something before."

You sighed, nothing ever escapes him. "Can we talk?"

His gaze softened. "Of course," his lips pursed in a downturned smile.

"After work?" you suggested in a small voice.

"Whenever you want," he replied.

Your heart hurt from how eager he looked for a second.

You nodded and whispered, "Okay," before exiting his office and returning to the bar.

It was the last hours of your shift, so most tables were leaving before the closing hour. The table where the incident happened stood vacant until you closed the bar for the night.

"Guys," Seungcheol called once the place had emptied of customers and everyone was good to go home.

Wonwoo and Mingyu stopped what they were doing in the moment to look at their boss.

"We need to talk about what happened tonight," he sighed heavily and ran a hand through his pale blond hair—a dead giveaway that he was getting heated again.

"Yeah, what happened, boss?" Mingyu frowned. "One minute, Newb was managing the tables just fine and the next you were kicking out two dudes on your own."

Your cheeks flushed and your gaze dropped to the floor.

"Two idiots thought it was okay to lay hands on her," Seungcheol put in darkly, and sighed again. "I apologize for the way I acted but–"

"It's okay," Wonwoo intervened calmly. "We understand."

Your eyes narrowed and you found Wonwoo offering a quick knowing look to you.

"It was... kinda epic boss," Mingyu looked exhilarated at the memory. "I mean, no offence but the way you handled those guys?"

Mingyu made a brief reenactment by using Wonwoo's body as a prop; grabbing him by the nape of his neck and twisting his arm behind his back.

Wonwoo snorted and broke away with a small smile on his lips.

You muffled a groan in sheer embarrassment. "I'm sorry for any inconvenience I caused guys. The least I wanted to do is cause a sce–,"

"What?" Mingyu blurted. "Newb, don't apologize for that. The minute you feel someone is disrespecting you, tell us."

"And if anyone oversteps again, they will be kicked out. By any means necessary. Don't even get their bill. I don't care," Seungcheol instructed.

"Got it boss," Mingyu nodded.

"Also, a new hire is coming in tomorrow, to lift some weight off your shoulders," Wonwoo told you directly.

"Wait, so Newb will need a new nickname? I kind of got used to calling you that."

"How about you call her by her name?" Seungcheol retorted with a huff.

"What's your name again?" he asked you, and burst in a goofy giggle. "I'm kidding, 'm kidding."

You rolled your eyes, but seeing Mingyu laugh easily made you smile and laugh with him.

Seungcheol caught that, a small glint of contentment appeared in his eyes and you could see that the corners of his lips twitched before he pretended to cough and walk away and into his office.

"Freakin' weird," you heard someone whisper and raised your eyes to see Wonwoo shaking his head.

"What is?" you dared ask, seeing that Mingyu had busied himself in other stuff so it was just the two of you.

"Cheol is been acting weird all week," he shrugged and looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening, but you two were alone. "And I'd never seen him this upset."

Well, I have, you wanted to reply but that would be a lot to explain. Not towards you though, he never got irked at you. Arguments with him could get heated, but never in the way that would get anywhere near that intimidating.

"Is it the first time something like this happens?" you asked instead.

"Nothing like this," he shook his head calmly. "We've had a few cases of problematic people but... whatever. Have you decided yet if you want to crash at our place?"

The sudden change in conversation made you snap back to reality. You had almost forgotten that you were sleeping in your car.

"I uh..."

"Newb is staying at ours?" Mingyu came back carrying his backpack on one shoulder.

You both looked at the taller man who was fixedly looking at his phone screen, a small smile appearing on his face.

"No, guys. Thank you but I need to... sort out some things first," you replied hesitantly.

"Oh okay," Wonwoo shrugged. "Are you sure, though? Sleeping in your car doesn't sound pleasant."

"I'm fine," you maintained. "Thank you."

You were barely familiar with Wonwoo and Mingyu, they haven't given you any reason to not trust them but it just didn't feel right to accept their proposal.

Wonwoo nodded. "Let me know if you need anything," was the last thing he said before exiting the bar along with his roommate, essentially leaving you alone with Seungcheol.

He was in the backroom, as you supposed. You glanced first inside the dark room, only to find him sat in the long chair, elbows propped in his desk, his eyes immersed in his phone screen.

You landed a knock on his door, and his eyes snapped to find you by the doorway.

"You don't have to knock," Seungcheol showed you a gummy smile and nodded toward you, the movement making his blond bangs fall on his eyes.

"Sorry, didn't know if you were busy," you explained as you made your way to the desk, using all the strength you had in you to push the memory of him fucking you in this same desk just two nights ago.

His dark eyes were fixed on your face and he stood up so he could level with you.

"Everything okay?" he asked in a low tone, denoting his anxiousness.

"Yeah, just," you swallowed thickly, feeling already very restive. "I wanted to talk about what happened."

An awkward smile rose in his lips. "When?"

You sighed. "Last week," you muttered shyly. "We can't do that again, Cheol."

When you didn't follow up, you could see his features change and break. He nodded in silence and dropped his gaze to the floor.

Then it dawned on you that you weren't being entirely clear. "I mean, I work here now. And the guys are not dumb, they are catching on a few things."

"Why do you say that?" his eyes met your again.

"Wonwoo thinks I have a crush on you," you said while trying not to blush.

"Why?" he frowned. "He told you that?"

"Yeah, he was a little upfront about it. But not only that, I... kind of got emotional when I saw Jeonghan earlier today and Mingyu noticed," you muttered with some embarrassment.

"Oh," he blinked and his eyes appeared to be knowing. "I should've given you the heads up that Jeonghan was stopping by. I'm sorry."

A frustrated sigh fell from your mouth. Suddenly feeling like you could explode from so many emotions under one day. The exasperation in your eyes made Seungcheol frown.

"But that's what I'm supposed to say, Cheol: I am sorry. I'm sorry for everything, I'm sorry for how I ended things," you said, your voice thickening with emotion.

"I'm sorry, too," he whispered, and it broke you how much it still hurt.

"No—please, Cheol listen to me, I could have done things differently, but I was irrational. Trust me, the minute I boarded that plane, I wanted to go back–,"

"You had no choice," he cut off, his frown deepening. "Baby, don't think for a second that I blamed you for that. You were left with no choice. I understand that now, and I moved on."

Your eyes welled up in tears and rolled down your cheeks as soon as the words sunk in. "But I left anyway," you insisted. "I'm sorry for leaving."

His eyes glistened, a hand reaching out and grabbing yours. "I'm sorry for not trying to stop you."

It was like reopening a wound in your heart. The pain from it shook you so hard that you physically recoiled from it. Many times, you wished he had stopped you from leaving, but you had to live for years with the knowledge that he respected your choice to go.

"Cheol, don't be–,"

"But I am, I'm sorry for letting you go that easily when we could've tried and find a way to solve things together," he explained, his voice dropping to a mere murmur and you could tell that he wanted to have this conversation for the longest time.

Then his hands cupped your face, making your chest tighten under so much resentment and pent up emotions from the past two years.

"Look at me," he whispered and you met his dark eyes. "We both made a mistake. But we can fix it together."

You grabbed his wrists, brushing his skin with your thumbs. "I need more time to think, Cheol," you pleaded. "My life is a bit chaotic right now."

His eyes softened as he felt your touch. "Take all the time you need," he replied in a low murmur. "I'm here whenever you're ready."

"Thank you, Cheol," you whispered, mustering a small smile. "I promise I'll sort things out soon."

A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I'll wait for you. Don't worry," he assured you, squeezing your hand gently.

A deep sigh escaped you, revealing that you had been holding back tears throughout the entire conversation. Your throat tightened, and within moments, tears welled up in your eyes, spilling down as the last image you saw was his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

A second later his arms were wrapped around you again. You instantly hid your face on his shoulder to cry freely, releasing all the guilt you've been bottling up for the past two years.

But hearing him apologize to you too made you discover that you've been wanting this for the same amount of time. You always felt like he let you walk away from his life too easily, even if it took you all the energy you had to do it.

Seungcheol's arms held you close, but you could feel his face snuggling on the crook of your neck, comforting you with his hands rubbing your back.

He let out a shaky sigh. "It's okay, baby. Let it all out. It's okay."

After five minutes of sobbing on his shoulder, you pulled away sniffing and trying to smooth down his ruined t-shirt.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to cry that hard. I just had the shittiest day," you muttered, gathering yourself and wiping your tears.

Seungcheol nodded in understanding. "I know, baby. I know it was hard. Don't let me rob you of more time you could use to be resting."

He motioned towards the door and got the lights of his office before stepping out into the parking lot behind the bar.

"Is working with me horrible?" he wondered, looking at the night sky. "I guess working with your ex must be stressing."

"Is it stressing for you?" you retorted as you made your way to your car.

"A bit," he admitted, showing you a smile to let you know he was joking. "It's not, really. Just the first day, I was losing my shit."

That made you chuckle. "Me too," you coincided. "But to answer your question, no. Having you as my boss is not as terrible as the boys said it'd be."

His thick brows furrowed. "They say that?" he pouted.

"Oh, you didn't know?" you asked alarmed. "Forget I said that."

His face relaxed and he grinned again. "I'm just playing with you. I'm well aware of what they say."

You shrugged and tried to come up with a response but a long yawn got in the way, making you shudder and almost shed a little tear.

"Wow," he laughed. "You need to get some rest, soon."

"Hm, sorry," you mumbled shyly, feeling a blush creep on your cheeks. "It's just that I haven't been getting much sleep and with the research and apartment hunt... 'm just so stressed about it."

"You didn't tell me you were in the middle of moving," he blinked, looking a bit more serious. "Do you need help with searching?"

You bit your tongue. Was that a Freudian slip?

"I uh... actually need a place to stay as soon as possible," you admitted.

"I'm not following," Seungcheol frowned.

The face he made next made your insides twist. He pursed his lower lip upward, pouting slightly. It was so rewarding to see him lose the initial resentment he had just a few days ago.

But deep down you knew that rebuilding your relationship with him would probably result difficult.

So you decided to start with being honest.

"My ex roommate gave me the late notice that we were evicted," you explained slowly: "I've been sleeping in my car for the last few nights."

"What, seriously?" he leaned toward the windows of your car to take a look inside in.

More than appearing to be worried, he looked kind of disappointed.

"Why didn't you–," he started, but then he seemed to remember: "Oh, wait. You were taking your space."

"Sorry about that," you shrugged. "I've been managing just fine but I do need to find a place soon."

You watched him nod with his head and press his lips together, making the dimples on his cheeks show.

"Seems like you're coming with me," he cooed softly.

You arched an eyebrow. "Don't look so unwilling, Cheol. You're making me feel bad," you quipped.

He just sighed and tutted softly, the way he did when he was putting the show of being disappointed. His hand fished the interior of all his pockets and pulled out his car keys.

"You can leave your car here," the locks of his grey wrangler clicked off. "Now let me move your stuff to the trunk."

You reluctantly unlocked the doors of your car and Seungcheol flung the backseat door open to unload the cardboard boxes and put them in the trunk of his car.

"Thank you," you smiled once Seungcheol loaded the trunk of his jeep with your stuff.

"Don't mention it," he muttered as he opened the door for you.

You climbed in his wrangler and looked around. "You got your dream car," you pointed, sinking in the creamy white leather seats that still smelled brand new.

"You remember," he said with a smile that reached his sleepy eyes before starting the engine.

Of course I do, you wanted to say. You wanted to tell him that there wasn't a single day in your two years without contact with him that you didn't remember him.

Seeing Seungcheol at the wheel, driving in the dead of the night brought a slew of memories. The amount of times he would drive to get you back home before dawn, or the times he'd pick you up to take you to dinner.

He would grab the steering wheel with one hand and with the other he would stroke your thigh with his thumb. Sometimes he would tease you a little, dragging his knuckles down your thigh, then down and so on.

"Your thoughts are loud," he muttered and sent a knowing look at you.

Your ex boyfriend was different now. Not the younger, dark haired version that used his brother's car to get you back home before your parents noticed you were gone.

It wasn't just the hair that had changed, or his body that gained more muscle mass.

"I was just... thinking," you mumbled, looking away from him and into the quiet streets.

"Yeah, I just said that," he laughed goofily.

You felt your heart swell hearing his goofy laugh, it made you choke back a sub. "Stop it," you whined, but couldn't resist to laugh with him. "I'm tired. I can't think straight."

He sighed with a smile on his face. "Do you want to grab something to eat or do you want to go straight to bed?"

"Bed," you muttered, dropping your head to the window beside you and letting yourself rest a little.

The car came to a full stop some five minutes later.

You blinked and stretched your arms, unbuckling your belt as Seungcheol opened your door for you. To get out of the car you practically had to jump and that made him smile fondly.

"Do you have all your stuff there?" he asked nodding to the boxes.

"Yup. I don't own much," you explained, searching for a medium sized box labelled 'pjs and stuff' where you put everything you needed for sleeping such as hygiene stuff, pyjamas and undergarments.

"Let me carry that," Seungcheol hurried, taking the box from your hands. "Do you need anything else for tonight?"

"Mmm dunno," you considered to look for the box that had your jeans and most used tops but you were just too tired to do so.

"Let's go up then," he nodded towards a building and you walked towards the back door, you pushed it open, letting Seungcheol through.

"Can you get my keys, please?" he asked before stopping in front of the elevator doors. "They're in my back pocket."

"Which one?" your arm circled on his right side.

"I don't know," he replied with the ghost of a smile, looking down at your face.

You let out a sigh and dug your hand on the back pocket of his black trousers, practically feeling his firm ass to find the pocket empty.

"I'll try the other pocket," you mumbled shyly, and circled your other arm to dig into the other pocket. "It's empty, too."

Your cheeks were growing hotter by the second, because the enjoyment in Seungcheol's eyes was undeniable. You rolled your eyes and palmed the front pockets of his trousers to find the keyring on his right front pocket.

"What, no groping this time?" he chuckled a little.

"Don't push it, Cheol," you sighed and called the elevator and used the fob key on the sensor.

"We're going to one-eight," he nodded to the buttons of the elevator and you followed, pressing the button to the eighteenth floor.

"That's high," you pointed. "Is that the second to last floor?"

"It is," he nodded and rested the back of his head on the wall.

"When did you move here?" you pried.

Seungcheol was standing across from you, so you could see him clearly under the dim lights on the elevator.

"Five–six months ago," he replied, looking upward while he remembered. "I moved out of the other apartment a month after you left, if that's what you're actually wondering."

It was what you actually wanted to know.

Seungcheol didn't use a condescending tone whatsoever. His tone was quiet and his eyes told not resentment but reassurance: he tried to move on. You couldn't reproach him for moving out of there and leaving everything behind.

You nodded silently, wanting to ignore how much it hurt you to know that you'd be facing all the things that he had to do to forget you.

"I can sleep on the couch. You can have the bed," he offered before the doors opened for you and slipped to the shiny floor of the hallway.

But before you could answer that you were okay with sleeping on the couch, you went after him. You actually already felt that he had done so much for you by letting you sleep at his place, you didn't want to take his bed as well.

"This way," he showed you to the door. "Use the number pad."

"Oh, this is really fancy," you muttered.

"As if you've never seen something like this before," he rolled his eyes, but a smile of pure endearment lifted to his eyes. "You know my passcode."

"I don't?" you blinked from him to the lock.

Is it...?

"Yes you do," he muttered beside you.

You entered the only number combination you knew he used to have on his phone's passcode lock.

"Why is our anniversary date still your passcode lock?" you asked when you opened the door to his apartment.

It was disconcerting to see him detach himself from all memory of you while still keeping something as significant as the day he asked you to be his girlfriend as his passcode lock, something that remained a part of his daily life.

"I use it for everything still," he admitted as he set down the box on a table and turned on the lights of the living room.

Though that was not necessary, since the wide windows of the living room stood tall and wide, from floor to ceiling, welcoming the faint glow of the city lights that filtered into the room, illuminating dimly.

"Why?" you asked again, standing by the doorway still.

"Well I didn't want to change everything, it was way too much work. And honestly, I suck at remembering stuff," he shrugged and used his hand to motion you over to him. "Come on in. I'll show you to my bedroom."

"I can crash on the couch, Cheol," you insisted, walking into the interior of the apartment after kicking your shoes and placing them beside his.

The apartment had a sophisticated feel to it, with faux marble floors complementing the countertops in the kitchen open to the living room. In the centre of the living room was a plush cream-colored rug. A long couch and armchair surrounded the coffee table.

Seungcheol always had a good taste, but the paintings on the walls and accents here and there made you think that maybe he had help with a few things.

"You are sleeping on the bed," he concluded, grabbing the box again and showed you to a door that led to the master bedroom.

The bedroom also had tall windows, partly covered by blackout drapes. Seungcheol put the box with your stuff on top of a dresser and turned on the bedside lamp.

"Make yourself comfortable. If you need anything let me know," he smiled fondly and left the room to give you your privacy.

Even though it was not a week that you and Seungcheol had sex in his office, you welcomed the very needed space and privacy he was giving you.

You took the liberty of using the shower and even using his towels after forgetting to bring in yours.

A while later you came out of Seungcheol's bedroom, dressed fully in your fuzzy pyjamas and found your ex lounging on the long couch, looking at his phone until he spotted you waking towards him.

He sat up when you stopped just before him and sent a confused look at you.

"I used your towel. Hope that's okay," you sat beside him with a tired sigh.

"You're free to use all my stuff," he muttered softly and wrapped an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him.

"Thank you Cheol," you whispered shyly, toying with the casing of your pyjama bottoms.

"Don't worry," he sighed as you placed your head on his shoulder. "I'm happy to help."

That drew a smile on your face. Seungcheol was someone that always made you feel safe, he used to be the person you trusted the most.

You let out a weary sigh through your nose, your eyes going over the nicely decorated apartment. There were no signs that he actually lived there—everything seemed neat, carefully placed, untouched and barely used.

Knowing him, he probably spent more time at his bar than in his home.

"Are you falling asleep?" you heard his low voice ask.

"'m trying to," you turned your head to find his tired eyes.

"You're not sleeping on the couch," he muttered with a pout. "If you fall asleep here I'll just carry you to bed."

The reaction those words caused inside you was of a fiery excitement. You smiled, feeling yourself flush a little.

"Well don't mind me then," you muttered cheekily before pretending to snuggle his shoulder as if it were a pillow and you closed your eyes.

"If that's what you want, just say so," he muttered with a tone of bemusement.

He promptly stood from the couch and snuck his arms underneath your body that was on the couch and carried you bridal style back to his bedroom.

The joy you felt at being treated this way again was not foreign to you. Even when you were his girlfriend, you felt elated at the princess treatment he gave you.

But reliving it also caused you to feel emotional, nostalgic of having him back into your life like this.

"There you go," he muttered as he carefully placed you on the side that you noticed he used on his bed, since the bedside table was the only of the two that was cluttered.

You quickly grabbed his arm as he was standing back from the bed and pulled him in, using the vulnerability of his stance to fully bring him on top of your body.

"What are you—," he chuckled as he stumbled on top, he was stronger than you so his hands stopped him from fully crushing you with his body, placing them strategically on the bed and at your sides.

You sighed in pure adoration at seeing his gummy smile again. Despite the tired look in his eye, he seemed relaxed, almost content as he pressed a knee on the bed to regain balance when he understood what you wanted.

Your hand slid on his nape to drag him into a needy kiss, which Seungcheol responded to in a split second with a groan that was muffled in your mouth, kissing you as fervently.

"I thought you needed time," he groaned, pressing his lips on yours a couple of times before trailing down to the underside of your chin.

"I need you, Cheol," you whimpered as his wet lips reached your throat, placing an open mouthed kiss to make his way to your collarbones.

Seungcheol stopped and turned his head to face you. "What do you need, baby?" he asked with a weary tone.

You knew that it was a tricky situation and that you still needed time to think if you were ready to go back to him fully.

"Can you lie down with me? And hold me?" you asked in a tiny voice.

His smile was warm. "Of course."

Seungcheol cuddled behind you, hugging your body closely to his own.

Moments passed, silence dragged on and you could sense that Seungcheol was wide awake. He snuggled his face on the back of your head, breathing you in.

It almost broke you to think of the times you needed this. When you were alone and far away in a distant country, you ached for his warmth and care. The simple reassurance of his presence was something you longed for so many nights.

You knew he missed you too. Every now and then he would tighten his arms around you, pulling you closer to his body.

"Why are you not sleeping?" he asked after what felt like an eternity, or so you wished for.

"I can't," you admitted with a sigh of defeat.

"You want me to go now?" he started to move his arms from your body.

"No, don't–," you stopped him from breaking his embrace. "Stay."

"You have to get some rest, baby," he urged.

You turned in his arms to face him and curled up against his body, your hands sneaking past his chest and to the sides of his neck, to angle your face to his and kiss him sweetly on his full lips.

He hummed into the kiss, his hands sliding down your back but stopping before your bum. You smiled, not caring that he'd feel that on his lips and decided to press the full front of your body against his.

At that, he broke away from your lips, his eyebrow twitched. "Someone's needy," he muttered before diving into your mouth again, kissing you hungrily.

You chuckled and wrapped a leg over his hips, understanding what you wanted he pushed your back to the bed, positioning himself between your legs as he continued to kiss you.

"Do you want me to help you sleep, baby, is that it?" he asked, darting a curious look to your eyes.

You only nodded eagerly with your head, feeling a blush creeping in your face.

His mouth pressed into a smile. "You haven't changed in that, love."

A fiery rush of emotions invaded you. Maybe you have changed in some aspects, but he always read you so well, better than anyone. In the four years you were lucky enough to be his girlfriend, he made a big commitment to remember every detail about you.

Seungcheol wasted no time and moved his body back and sat on his heels to hook his fingers on your pyjama bottoms and yank them off your legs swiftly.

He sighed in delight, looking down at you.

"What?" you asked, growing timid under his awe-struck gaze.

He shook his head slightly. "I just–," he pushed his blond hair with his hand. "I never even imagined that-"

Seungcheol was practically stuttering and he smiled in defeat when you laughed at his struggle.

"Come here," you extended your arms to him and he leaned his body towards you.

You cupped his face with your hands to kiss his full lips softly, enjoying the fact that he was just as jittery as you were.

His hands slid beneath the fuzzy material of your top, his thumbs rubbing your nipples in small circles as his tongue dragged your lower lip, eliciting a low whimper from you.

"I missed you so much, baby," he whispered as he broke away from you to get rid of your top.

"I missed you too," you replied to him as soon as he returned to press loving kisses on your face.

Your fingers tangled in his long blond hair, and as he pushed away from your face, you saw his glinting eyes, revelling at the sight of you.

The endearment written on his face made your chest hurt. It was clear what he meant to say but wasn't ready to speak the words yet. You tried smiling but resorted to blink slowly at him once as if saying, 'I know, me too.'

Seungcheol flashed you a smile in response, clearly getting the message.

He kissed your lips once before dipping his head to kiss your collarbones, pressing soft kisses over the dark hickeys on your tits as his thumbs played with your nipples for a second time.

You hummed into his mouth, feeling yourself swept away by the tenderness of his kisses. He slid his hands on the sides of your body, caressing your skin and leaving goosebumps in his wake.

When his fingers grabbed the band of your panties, he broke away from your lips. His hands slowly slid your panties down your legs, looking at you fondly as you lifted your feet from the bed and his fingers dragged your panties from your ankles and set them aside.

"You're so beautiful, baby," he murmured with a soft, smallest sigh, almost as if it were escaping from his mouth: "You've always been the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

You smiled, your chest swelling with pure bliss. "Thank you, daddy," you replied with a small voice.

Then he left a trail of wet kisses toward your belly button, kissing your tummy lovingly before using his hands to angle your thighs open for him.

He placed more kisses around your core, in the soft and sensitive area of your thighs, making you whimper and grab his soft hair with one hand when he ran his tongue flatly on your skin, and again, leaving a tingling sensation on your pussy lips.

A shaky whimper spilled from your lips as he darted a hungry look at your eyes before pressing his tongue flatly on your core, licking a stripe up your folds, savouring you, drinking you in with a satisfied groan.

"Cheollie," you mewled with a sigh, already weak in your legs as your jaw went slack, and your back arched up.

You heard him hum in response, his hands pressed your body down by your lower belly, his thumbs caressing your skin while his tongue gave broad strokes on your pussy lips, placing kisses in between licks, teasing you softly.

"I missed you so fucking bad, daddy, you have no idea," you whimpered, your hand grabbing at his hair and the other clinging to the bed covers.

Seungcheol's mouth was pressed so close to your core that you felt his lips move into a smile. He didn't stop at your words to give you a reply, he continued to eat you out, the tip of his tongue sinking into your core, slurping your sweet juices delightfully.

Lewd whimpers and cries flooded the room. You knew he loved the sounds he got out of you, just as Seungcheol knew what to do to get you crying out in pleasure.

He stopped licking and kissing your cunt and concentrated on your clit, pressing his full lips on your clit before pushing the tip of his tongue on it to then move it side to side, darting the swollen bud with a swift pace.

You cried out loudly, wanting more and more your fingers twisted around his long hair, following the movements that his head started to make, slightly up and down as he continued to suck on your clit.

"I'm close, daddy," you gasped. "Fuck! I'm so close, please, please, daddy," propping yourself on your elbows as your legs began to shake, making one of his hands slide down from your lower belly and force your thighs open for him.

The last thing you saw before your eyes screwed shut was Seungcheol's head buried deep between your thighs, his hands holding you down firmly to his bed as your legs trembled on his sides.

Your head dropped back, crying out loudly as your orgasm washed over your body, the sounds you made left your voice raw until you started panting.

"Oh god—oh my fucking god," you whimpered lewdly as you came all over his mouth. "I missed you so, so much, daddy. Daddy!"

Seungcheol groaned in your cunt, teasing you with his mouth as you came down from your high. But he wasn't stopping. You noticed he moved his mouth from your clit, but he resumed giving broad strokes across your folds, savouring your arousal again.

"Daddy, what are you—oh," you started, but then his hands blindly found yours, lacing your fingers with his and then pulling so that your elbows no longer supported your body.

The back of your head hit the pillows and you heard him let out a low and raw groan. You understood that he wasn't done. Because of course he wasn't.

Seungcheol worked his mouth on your cunt to hear you moaning and whimpering again until he hummed in satisfaction against your folds.

Then the tip of his tongue swirled around your clit a few times before it darted side to side swiftly and continued to do so, knowing that would draw your orgasm out of you again.

"Mmm, 'm gonna cum again, daddy," you mewled, your chest rising and falling heavily as you felt your limbs growing numb. "Daddy, 'm almost there, I'maah-"

The grip you had on his hands tightened as his mouth forced a second orgasm from you, making you moan loudly repeatedly calling out his name until you were completely breathless.

Your limbs went limp just as his hands broke free easily from yours to smooth your legs soothingly. He placed one final kiss on your mound and lied his head on your thigh.

"Tired yet, love?" he asked, pressing the side of his face against your upper thigh, using it as a pillow.

"Mmyeah," you hummed. "I could die right now," you sighed weakly.

He smiled fondly. "I think you mean sleep?"

You nodded and added: "After I make you feel good too."

He raised a hand to stop you from moving. "Shh, let me enjoy this," he muttered lazily, nuzzling the side of your face against your thigh.

"But, I want you to feel good too," you frowned.

He blinked sleepily and shook his head that was still on your thigh. "I'm good, baby."

"Really?"

"Really," he whispered with a small smile, looking elated. "I missed this. I missed you," he smiled lazily.

Seungcheol moved on top of your body to capture your lips with his, kissing you sweetly before climbing down the bed, where you lied languidly watching him get rid of his shirt in one movement and throw it to the side.

"I'll be back in five, angel," he told you before he walked into the bathroom, turning on the shower a minute later.

When he returned, you weren't aware if five minutes passed precisely. Since you were fast asleep already, only to feel his hands move you beneath the covers, and then his warm body pressed behind yours, his arms wrapped around you.

Seungcheol held you closely throughout the night, until somewhere in the distance you heard an alarm go off. And you were barely aware of the kiss he left on your cheek before pulling away from you and leaving the bed.

Some hours later you woke up in his large bed, naked and alone. You searched for your phone but then you remembered that it was probably back in the living room.

After finding your clothes which were scattered on the floor around the bed you got dressed and went to search for your phone. You wanted to know what the time was, and if you needed to tend to any texts.

But luckily, it was still fairly early in the morning and you didn't have any messages or emails.

So you busied yourself as best as you could. Starting by changing into casual clothes and after perusing what the wifi password was—which Seungcheol had in a note stuck to the fridge with a magnet, you then grabbed your laptop and browsed for a place to move in.

You were sitting on the stool in the kitchen countertop working on finding an affordable place when Seungcheol returned. You being the first thing he laid eyes upon entering his apartment.

"Hi there," you hummed with a smile.

"G'morning. Brought you breakfast," he lifted a bag with his hand and placed it beside your laptop and promptly placed a kiss on your cheek.

You noticed his hair looked messy and sweaty, and you noticed he had gone to the gym, his compression t-shirt hugged the muscles of his chest, and the grey sweatpants that hung on his waist just right.

You gulped.

"Thank you," you smiled at him as you pushed your laptop aside and inspected the box containing the food he grabbed for you.

"Any luck yet?" he nodded to the screen on your laptop, where your search has stopped cold at the sight of food.

He leaned on the countertop beside you to look closer to the screen.

"Nope," you replied shortly, stuffing your mouth with food eagerly.

He shrugged. "You'll find something," he said reassuringly and when he looked at your cheeks full he smiled fondly.

"I'll be out of your hair soon, don't worry," you muttered, trying to cover your mouth as you were still chewing up your food.

"You can stay here as long as you need, you know that," he brushed off with a small frown on his face.

You nodded. "Thank you, Cheol."

His eyes lingered on your for a second before he muttered reluctantly: "And if you don't find anything that suits your needs, you can stay here, indefinitely."

You had to take a second to understand what he was saying. And your heart skipped a beat.

"I appreciate that, Cheol. But I think I need to find a place of my own," you muttered and looked down to your food.

Seungcheol shot a brief glance your way, his expressive eyes had dimmed. Upon realizing that he had touched on a sore subject that had caused arguments between you in the past, he turned away from the counter and walked out of the open kitchen, distancing himself from you.

"I'm taking a shower. And then we leave," he announced awkwardly.

"O-okay," you nodded. "Thank you for bringing me food."

"Don't mention it," he nodded before turning his back to you and walking off to his bedroom.

This shift was not as heavy as you initially had prepared for.

It was thursday, and instead of it being a night in which you had a live band playing, it was ladies night, a new concept that Mingyu proposed when Midnight Haze announced they'd be going on tour opening for another big rock band.

The concept to say the least was... interesting.

"Hey newb, you'll be behind the bar tonight for a bit," Wonwoo instructed and nodded to the guy that was in deep conversation with Seungcheol on one of the booths before opening hours.

"Oh, right, the newer newb is here," Mingyu said. "And who's going to help the new kid?"

"You," Wonwoo stated, crossing his arms over his chest.

Mingyu's jaw almost dislocated. "Me?" he pointed to his chest. "Why me?"

"Because you've been distracted. I want you to change tasks for tonight," he explained briefly and then looked at you. "You can handle the bar, right?"

Mingyu rolled his eyes with a snort and came out from behind the countertop and got to work, although fuming.

"Yeah, I can," you shrugged.

And also, you had a license. You don't know how Wonwoo even remembered that but you were glad he did. Because you also were in need to take a break from managing the tables.

"Right," Wonwoo clasped his hands together. "Let's get to work, Newb."

You nodded and followed Wonwoo behind the countertop.

The actual newbie's name was Chan. Who was a dark haired guy with an easygoing personality, you learned that he was an aspiring singer, within the first 60 seconds of you talking he mentioned his SoundCloud with great enthusiasm.

But the real reason he was here was because Wonwoo sort of convinced him to work here under the promise of juicy tips. Which, worked to the favor of the new concept of ladies night, something that you'd also learn soon.

The bar was nicely packed around 9PM. And Mingyu's idea seemed to stick, since the tables and barstools were occupied and most of the customers were, in fact, women.

"Holy shit," you said under a breath, watching with keen eye the looks being thrown at the boys tending the table.

And also to you and the man beside you tending the bar, and you felt slightly nervous whenever you caught someone on the countertop looking your way.

"Indeed," Wonwoo responded with a breathy laugh. "I mean, we get this crowd whenever the Haze boys come around, but not like this."

"Looks like the boys are having fun," you pointed with your nose to Mingyu and Chan, who kicked right off with the right foot and worked with a nice synergy.

"Finally," Wonwoo said with a sigh. "Need Mingyu to get out of his own head."

"Breakups are hard," you muttered as you turned to get the new orders from the machine.

Something caught your eye, Seungcheol's blond hair as he flipped it back with one hand as he strolled his tall body in front of the row of booths, inevitably turning the looks of people he passed by.

A sigh escaped your lips. Seungcheol has always had this effect on people. He is alluring, by the way he walked and stood. He commanded himself with a confidence that you have not seen in anyone else you have ever met.

You bit back a smile.

"Hello?" Wonwoo snapped. "Newbie, gimme that," he said with urgency and yanked the order from your hand.

"Sorry," you said, feeling a hot wave wash over your face.

"Seriously?" Wonwoo tutted and shook his head.

"What?" you said as he handed you another order and you got to work.

"At least try not to be obvious," he flashed you a grin and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose while the other hand was busy pouring a glass of whiskey and coke.

"God, okay," you widened your eyes in annoyance. "You are snoopy."

"And you are sloppy."

You chuckled. "Maybe. But at least I mind my business."

"Shut up," he hissed with a bright smile.

"Yah! You two," Seungcheol pointed towards you and Wonwoo. "Stop bickering."

Seungcheol had made his way to one side of the countertop, that being the side Wonwoo was mostly in charge of. You nodded with your head and it took you a second to notice that Seungcheol was amused by you.

"Like kids, I swear," he said with a click of his tongue.

"It's all her, boss," Wonwoo pointed teasingly at you. "She has her head over the clouds, god knows why."

"Wonwoo!" you shrieked like a little girl and pushed him by the shoulder.

But he obviously didn't budge. The man towered over you, but he only giggled. "See? She's even blushing, had to clean drool off the counter, you shoulda seen boss."

"Fuckin'stopit, Jeon Wonwoo," you hissed at him.

Seungcheol chuckled goofily, making you stop your feeble pleas to Wonwoo, who also looked somewhat stunned by your boss's reaction.

"Stop it you two, alright," he shook his head once before walking off to the kitchen.

"Huh," Wonwoo huffed. "That went well."

"What?" you gasped. "You just embarrassed me in front of him!"

"And it worked," he shrugged with a sly smile on his face.

"Uh... no it didn't—what worked exactly?" you demanded, your cheeks blazing hot that you had to lower your head a bit so that no one saw your embarrassed expression.

"He got shy."

You stopped and looked at him, quirking an eyebrow. "Yeah, sure."

It was weird to have the need to conceal both your excitement and nervousness. Sort of working in your favour because Wonwoo was so sure that you were jittery because you were crushing on your boss, according to him.

You didn't want to imagine what expression would take on his features if he ever knew that you weren't crushing on your boss, but your ex.

The shift ended quietly and you silently thanked the gods because you still felt embarrassed by the exchange between you and Wonwoo. And he appeared to be knowing of that, because you were trying to turn a blind eye towards Seungcheol, who for some reason kept strolling around the bar, helping with minor tasks here and there.

Wonwoo sent you some smug looks when Seungcheol went around the countertop and started helping you with the close up.

After everyone had exited the bar, you stood around your car for a bit, pretending to be busy responding to texts as Chan, Wonwoo and Mingyu had left, and the rest of your coworkers did too.

Seungcheol crossed the small parking lot behind the bar as he got his car keys from the pocket of his jacket, unlocking the doors of his jeep.

You hopped in the passenger seat of Seungcheol's jeep, feeling your heart almost thumping out of your throat when your ex sighed a smile.

"So," he threw a hand over the steering wheel. "You were caught drooling over someone."

"Not you too," you scoffed but laughed at his smug expression.

"No wonder Wonwoo is catching onto something, you might be a bit obvious," he smirked and ignited the car, driving away from the parking lot.

"I only looked at you once," you mumbled sheepishly.

"What were you looking at?" he inquired with a soft tone.

"I might have been looking at your butt," you laughed out of embarrassment.

"In front of everyone?" Seungcheol chuckled.

You hid your face behind the palms of your hands with a groan. "I couldn't help it."

A hand slid on your thigh, his fingers softly digging into the fabric of your jeans.

"Baby, you can't do that while working, the boys might actually start questions and what are you going to say?" he teased and you looked at him through your fingers, he was smirking while darting a few looks at you.

"I mean I wasn't the only one looking," you muttered shyly, your voice sounding tiny. "You look really good in those pants."

He laughed in response. "Is that what you told Wonwoo, baby?"

"No," you replied quickly. "I told him to stop snooping."

"I could tell him the truth, if that makes you feel better," he suggested with a small smile as the car came to a red light.

"What?" you squealed, dropping your hands to see his face illuminated by the soft red glow.

He shrugged. "I trust the boys. They would have no issue with you being my ex girlfriend."

Somehow the last word made your chest tighten.

"Bu-but I thought you didn't want them to know," you blurted.

"That would be the sensible thing to do, if I didn't trust them. But they've been here with me since I started this, I really trust they will understand," he muttered while he rubbed two fingertips over his plump lips.

"Um, okay," you mumbled, completely unsure.

"Only if you want to," he quickly put in when he saw your hesitation.

"I don't know," you sighed and bit back a yawn.

Seungcheol continued driving with his large hand firmly parked in your thigh, making your body tingle in anticipation.

"Jeonghan asked me for your number, forgot to tell you," he mentioned in passing, as if wanting to drive the conversation elsewhere.

"Oh? Did you give it to him?"

"Yeah, I did," he nodded with a frown. "Thought you'd want him to have it. Was that okay?"

"Totally!" you smiled, eager to finally reconnect with your former best friend. "Thank you, Cheol."

A smile reached his eyes and he sighed.

"What?" you asked.

Seungcheol parked and turned the engine of his car off. "Nothing," he said, unbuckling the belt. "It's nice to see you happy, that's all."

"It's been so long. I never thought I'd see him again," you said with a sigh. "I honestly thought he'd hate me..."

You dropped your gaze to your hands.

"Hey," he muttered, turning on his seat to face you. "Don't think that, baby. He has no reason to hate you, even if he did, he wouldn't."

You mustered a smile and looked at his big dark eyes, then his lips.

"Let's go," he muttered, noticing your wandering gaze.

"'kay," you sighed and followed him out of the car and onto the building.

In the elevator, Seungcheol had his hands behind his back, leaning back against the wall as he eyed the ceiling.

You watched him carefully, every detail of him. He way he stood, the way his t-shirt clung on his lean pecs and the wide shoulders that stretched the fabric down to his biceps.

One eyebrow twitched ever so slightly.

"You're staring again," he muttered without looking at you.

"No, I'm not," you mumbled sheepishly, dropping your gaze.

"Your thoughts are loud, baby," he giggled and you lifted your gaze to find him smirking.

"Tell me what I'm thinking, then," you quipped, returning the smirk.

Your heart fluttered rapidly, sinking with the familiarity of playing around like this with your ex.

Seungcheol pushed himself off the wall with a step forward and stood before you, making your knees wobble.

"I could show you," he said with a confident smirk, the eyebrow twitched slightly again.

The doors of the elevator opened, the small bump when the elevator arrived to the second to last floor left you feeling somewhat dazed. Or perhaps was the man standing in front of you, with a smirk plastered on his face when he knew the effect he had on you.

He walked into the long marbled floor hall and you followed him, noticing a slight urgency on his movements when he opened the door for you.

As soon as he closed the door, his hands slid on your waist from behind, stopping you in your tracks and pulled you closer to his body. You gasped slightly, your hands immediately flying to cover his with a jerk.

"Are you going to tell me what's on your mind, love?" he asked with a low tone, his nose bumping with your ear.

You turned to see him, his eyes had darkened, and was now wearing an expression that you knew too well.

When he saw you falter, he slowly turned you on your feet, his hands firmly parked on your waist. "I know that we still have a pending conversation but," he paused, searching your face. "I really need you right now, baby."

A shiver of pure delight ran throughout your body, earning a soft sigh from you.

"Then take me, Cheollie," you breathed, pressing your body against his.

He drove you against the wall, effectively pinning you with his large frame and not a second later he locked your lips with his own, groaning in your mouth with a sigh.

The hands on your waist slowly slid down your ass, grabbing it momentarily before crouching slightly before you and you understood what he wanted and jumped in his arms.

"Good girl," he muttered gruffly, moving his hands firmly on your ass as he carried you in his capable arms to his bedroom.

Seungcheol threw your body on the large comfy covers of the bed, muffling your fall perfectly. You let out a small blissful squeal and focused your eyes on him, feeling so needy already that you might've combust.

Seungcheol stood before you, his darkened eyes roaming all over your fully clothed body impatiently.

"Do you still like it rough, baby?" he asked as he pressed one knee on the bed and crawled on top of you.

"You know I do, daddy," you replied with a honeyed tone.

Seungcheol lowered his elbows, framing your head and pressed his body on top of yours. "Did the guys you fucked treated you the same way I do?"

Your breath hitched and something clicked in your brain instantly. Your eyes read his face frantically, he seemed calm, controlled, just like he always did when he dommed you.

"O-of course not," you whispered, quivering under his darkened gaze. "No one fucks me like you do."

Did he really want to know? He might have assumed that you had other partners when you went away, right? Did he had other partners? Oh fuck, you did not even want to entertain that thought, your heart sank at the mere prospect.

Seungcheol probably did, though. Assuming that he already thinks the same of you.

He smiled playfully, like a cat toying with his food he dipped his head to graze his lips against yours slowly. "Did you think of us when you fucked other people, baby?"

His lips moved to kiss your cheek and you quivered when his hands slid under your shirt, feeling your waist.

Did he think of you? You thought to ask.

"No," you replied sincerely. "But I would when they'd leave and I had to finish alone."

"Mmm," he hummed thoughtfully. "That bad I ruined you, baby?"

"That bad," you nodded. "I tried to convince myself it was good. But it just wasn't the same."

His lips pressed on the shell of your ear before saying: "Of course it wasn't, angel. No one knows you like I do."

You let out a shaky moan when he nipped your earlobe. "No one," you echoed. "Not even close."

You felt him smile on the spot below your ear. "And no one else will, baby."

You let out a pathetic whimper, not even daring to process what his words really implied. "No one," you parroted entrancedly.

Seungcheol groaned softly in your ear and pressed more kisses down the crook of your neck, earning more sweet sounds from your lips, you squirming under him, one hand had made its way on the hard muscles of his back, while the other cupped the back of his head.

"I need you naked, now," he muttered quietly and pulled his body back, kneeling on the bed before you.

Somehow your body silently started synergizing with his, you sat up in the bed just as his hands took the hem of your t-shirt, pulling it over your head with one move and tossing it to the floor. And then you lied back again when his fingers hooked on your jeans after yanking the button and zipper undone.

Lifting your hips for him to yank your jeans down your legs so hard that you heard some seams rip.

He let out a huff with a smirk. "These fucking jeans," he muttered through his teeth. "Can't fucking get you out of my head on a regular basis and then you wear these jeans... fuck baby, it's like you know."

He climbed back on top of you, placing his forearms on each side of your head to kiss you chastely once.

"It's like you know what you do to me," he muttered gruffly. "But you do, you know me better than anyone too."

Your heart lurched at his words, but couldn't help but show him a small smile. "Yeah, I do," you said confidently.

Seungcheol returned the smile. "Yeah, baby?" he whispered on your lips, trapping your lower lip to pull at it softly. "Can you still take me like before?"

Your whole body burned at his question and you nodded with your head slowly. "Ye-yeah I can," you faltered for a second. "I can take it."

"That's my baby," he whispered and swiped a line on your lower lip with the tip of his tongue. "Arch your back for me. I need to see you," he slid a hand beneath you to unclasp your bra and uncovered your breasts for him.

Seungcheol instantly palmed your breasts teasingly rubbing his thumbs over your nipples, making you squirm when he leaned down to wrap his mouth around one of them, sucking lightly and nipping at it with his teeth.

"Fucking perfect," he grunted. "You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen, I swear."

"Daddy," you mewled and grabbed a handful of his soft hair when he decided to pay attention to your other nipple, sucking at it, playing with it and tugging it with his mouth.

"I'm here, love," he replied, darting a look at you. "Daddy's gonna treat you right. Fuck you like you deserve."

You nodded eagerly. "P-please, I need it."

Seungcheol sighed with a smile at your plea, his fingers hooked on the band of your panties, pulling them off to watch the string of arousal that stretched as the fabric separated from your wet core, broke and fell on the covers.

"So fucking wet already," he clicked his tongue.

"All for you, daddy," you sighed, feeling a blush creeping on your cheeks.

"All for me," he echoed, hovering over your body to press a hungry kiss on your lips.

Your hands slid under the white t-shirt to drag it up his body, feeling his muscles tighten and he sighed shakily under your touch, standing upright for you to continue undressing him.

You marvelled at his half-naked body for a second, your hands caressed his shoulders and slid down his chiselled chest and stopped at the belt of his pants.

"You've gotten bulkier," you whispered, darting a look at his eyes.

"Do you like it?" he asked, tilting his head to the side a little.

"Yeah, I do. A lot," you muttered, mustering a smile.

He pinched your chin gently but said nothing more.

"I need you to get up," you mumbled nervously before undoing the button of his pants.

This felt different than the night he fucked in his office. You felt nervous under the pressure of your decision, that and the fact that Seungcheol wanted to have his way with you like before, but that caused another kind of nervousness.

Seungcheol got up from the bed and you followed him, getting him out of his jeans to then bit back a sigh when you saw the huge bulge he store beneath his briefs. You ran a palm over his clothed cock, noticing a small patch of his briefs wet with precum.

A shudder in excitement invaded you when you pushed his briefs down. His cock sprung free and you let out a strangled sigh in pure bliss.

You pushed him with your hands at his sides, earning a soft chuckle from him when he understood what you intended to do. Sitting him down on the edge of his bed and kneeling on the floor between his splayed thighs.

You caressed his supple thighs with a shudder that shook you to your core, almost whimpering pathetically at the sight of him. Naked, hard, leaking and needy.

Seungcheol cupped the side of your face with one hand and your eyes fluttered shut under his warm touch. "Is this what you had in mind, angel?"

"Yeah," you breathed lewdly with a nod to your head. "Can I suck you off, daddy?"

"Fuck, yes," he sighed, the corner of his mouth stretching in a grin as his hand brushed your hair back gently.

You made sure to look in his eyes right before grabbing his girthy cock with your hand, you wanted to see his features dissolve into pleasure as you took him in your mouth. Starting with a broad stroke with your tongue from the base of his cock to its head, tasting the salty precum in his slit and his mouth parted a little, releasing a low guttural moan.

"You don't know how much I missed your mouth, baby," he mumbled faintly.

You pushed your mouth down his cock and hummed around it, swirling your tongue around his pink tip every time you pulled your mouth back.

Seungcheol hissed and his hands started gathering your hair in one tight fist as your mouth started to feel more comfortable on his cock and felt bold enough to take him further, so that his cockhead pushed up your throat.

Your hand stroked what you could not take in your mouth fully, while the other caressed his thigh, making him shudder and swallow a moan in his throat.

"God, baby that feels so good," you sneaked a look towards the man completely trapped under your spell.

You hummed again, making wet sounds with your mouth on is cock loudly to make him shudder. He had his half-lidded eyes trained on you, one hand gathering your hair and the other gripping the covers tightly.

"Fuck, that's it, baby," he whispered. "You're taking me so well," he kept his praise with a low raspy tone.

At that, you picked up the pace, your drool coated hand moving faster on the base of his throbbing cock while you worked your mouth around its head, earning more sweet praises and moans from him.

The overwhelming need to worship his body invaded you. It made your cunt throb and moan around his cock, making slurping sounds as you sucked his big cock and took him further in your mouth.

You gagged a little bit when you tried to push his cock in your throat, and his hand tightened around your hair. "Stop," he instructed.

You pushed your head back and got him out of your mouth, breathing through your nose deeply.

Seungcheol leaned down to kiss your lips chastely, his hand still on your hair. "I want you on all fours," he mumbled in your mouth, but his command was firm.

You complied almost immediately, crawling on all fours to the middle of the large bed. You propped your elbows on the pillows and looked over your shoulder to see him.

Seungcheol pressed one knee on the edge of the mattress, the soft covers dipping around him as he climbed his wholly naked body on the bed. Then you noticed that the curtains of the large windows were drawn still, creating a backdrop behind his frame of the city lights in the middle of the night.

It was not only the sight of his beautiful body that caught your sight. Nor the way that the lights seemed to shimmer behind him. His eyelids were lowered as he looked at your body, you saw his heavy lashes, his full lips.

He leaned his head to one side as one of his hands caressed your skin from the small of your back, down to one of your glutes.

Your tummy fluttered nervously.

"Do you remember our safeword, love?" he asked, pausing for a second.

How could you not remember? You nodded and told him the safeword you established for each other years ago.

Looking at him over your shoulder still, you saw him take one hand to the space between your bodies. A smile appeared on his face when you arched your back for him in anticipation. Then you felt him run the tip of his cock between your pussy lips once, teasing you briefly before easing himself inside you in one go.

But he wasted no time, starting to push his hips against you, giving you no testing or shallow thrusts. His pace was hard and fast, nearly brutal. It had you mewling against the bedcovers instantly, your fingers curling on the pillows for support.

"That's my girl," he gasped each word between his brutal thrusts. "Stretching so nicely for daddy's cock."

You hummed in affirmation and closed your eyes, savouring every inch of his big cock dragging out of your gummy walls and then sinking back in.

"Daddy," you sighed a moan. "Please."

You were not sure why you were begging, or what for. But when Seungcheol picked up the pace a little, slamming his hips against you so hard that your body started to bounce on his bed, you forgot what you wanted to say.

"Fuck, daddy, just like that please," you gasped lewdly, when his cock reached a glorious spot deep inside you, making your mind go blank.

You heard him groan gutturally and looked at him over your shoulder. Seungcheol had thrown his head back a little, his tongue was trapped between his teeth. The hand parked on the small of your back had travelled far up your back a little, while the other held you in place.

"God," he sighed. "You're taking me so well, baby."

"Mm-mmph," you mewled, closing your eyes to lose yourself in the blissful pleasure you got from him hitting that spot with his cock repeatedly.

Seungcheol was practically growling, his raw moans spilling from his lips in a frantic manner as his hips slammed into your ass, making you gasp and moan with every thrust.

"F-fuck, I'm almost there, daddy," you sighed and gulped hard, tasting your sweet release.

His hands gripped you so hard on your hips as he quite literally pummelled you that you knew you'd have bruises on your hips and ass the following day. But he didn't stop, and you internally thanked him.

"You want to come, baby?" he asked, his voice low and raspy.

"Yes please, daddy. I'm so close," you whimpered your eyes brimmed with tears. "Feels so good, so fucking good—"

Hearing you being so needy for your release made him let out a deep groan in pleasure. But he continued with his brutal thrusts on you, his hands firmly grabbing your hips, his fingers digging in your skin so deep you knew you'd have marks in the following morning.

"Come for me baby," he gasped. "Come on daddy's cock," he said in a low guttural tone.

All you could feel was his cock plunging in your clenching walls as your orgasm hit you so hard and good that your ears rung, drowning out your own cries of pleasure.

Then a hand circled your neck, and effortlessly pulled you up so what his hard chest was pressed to your back. Seungcheol's fingers didn't press that hard, but with enough strength to make you gulp abruptly and grab his wrist.

"I love the sounds you make for me," he growled. "You're so fucking good for me."

You whimpered at the sound of his voice so close to your ear, his cock still pumping hard inside you so hard that you could feel your whole body bouncing against his.

"I'm gonna stuff this pretty cunt with my cum. You want that, love?" he asked, gasping softly at your ear.

"Yes, please!" you replied with a whimper, your hand clenching the wrist up your neck. "Fill me up, please. Please, daddy."

A groan left his mouth, sounding so low and guttural that it vibrated on his chest so hard you felt it on your body. His hips slammed against you, his hand tightening in your neck as he came inside you, gasping softly on your shoulder.

Slowly his hand released your neck, his strong muscly arms encircled and pressed your body against him. He held you close to his chest, as he breathed heavily on your neck in a mixture of exhaustion and bliss.

"You're always so good for me," he muttered lazily as he showered you with loving kisses on your neck and shoulder.

You snuggled closer to his warmth, angling your head for more of his kisses and you felt him smile on your cheek.

"Can we cuddle?" you asked when his lips reached your own.

He paused, reading your eyes before nodding with his head. "Whatever you want, baby."

You slowly lied face down on his bed and Seungcheol followed, slumping his naked body beside you.

Then his big arms were wrapped around you, efficiently pulling you on top of his body. You pressed your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and the soft hum he released.

Two fingers gingerly took your chin, commanding you to look at him.

"Okay?" he breathed.

You nodded and pressed your lips into a smile. "Okay."

The corner of his mouth stretched slightly in the faintest of smiled. "C'mere," he whispered, reading your eyes before leaning in for a warm, tender kiss.

"Cheol," you breathed in his lips.

"You don't know how much I missed you, baby," he quickly cut in, almost as if he did not want to let the moment be swept away. "So much."

"I missed you too," you echoed with shaky voice. "So, so much."

"Only in my most insane moments I dared to imagine you here with me again," you felt him smile on your lips. "But here you are."

Your heart broke a little, making you close your eyes before you could control yourself. "I'm here, Cheol."

The tip of his nose nudged yours gently before he pressed a soft kiss on your lips. "Don't leave again."

You choked back a sob in his mouth, unable to utter a word.

"Please," he whispered.

"I'm not entirely sure if this is a good idea," you told him sincerely. "I'm a different person now, Cheol. Not the girl you once loved."

It was true. You were far from the girl that Seungcheol loved. Time has a funny way of changing things and it sure as hell did with you.

But he smiled, an endearing glint in his eyes. "I know you've changed, baby," he muttered. "I've changed too. We can get to know each other again."

The idea sounded good. After all Seungcheol was you first love. Your first everything: first (real) kiss, first boyfriend, first sexual partner, first heartbreak. So the prospect of getting to know him all over again after years was exciting.

Something to look forward to.

"I don't think we can go back to what he had," Seungcheol said softly. "And honestly, I don't want to. I want to start over."

"Can we? We can't just turn a blind eye to what we've done for the past few days," you pointed to your naked bodies, alluding to having sex multiple times already.

"Remember when we started dating?" he asked while his fingers brushed your hair from your face. "We moved so fast, we were already having sex within the first month of knowing each other."

You laughed, your cheeks bundled up and forced some tears from your eyes. "I know, I remember. But that's not what I'm saying, Cheol," you playfully pushed his shoulder. "How would this work? You being my boss, and my ex–"

"You're overthinking it," he shook his head once. "We'll take it step by step. I know it's tricky, and it's going to take a lot to figure it out. But I know that I'm ready now."

He was right: you were overthinking everything.

Nothing could ever get you back to what you used to have with Seungcheol. There was no going back to the person you were when you were madly in love with him. Even if you still loved him now, there was a lot you had to rebuild.

His thumb gently brushed away a lonely tear that rolled down your cheek. "What do you say, love?" he whispered so softly that it was barely audible. "Can we start again?"

Seungcheol paused, looking hesitant, but in the brief silence that followed, you understood that no matter what your answer was, one thing was still very evident: you still loved him.

As you nodded with your head, he pulled you into a tender kiss. It was too soft, slow and warm and wet. You melted into the kiss, your whole body shuddered under his touch, making you stifled a sob in his lips.

"Thank you, baby," he whispered in between kisses. "I won't let you down again, I promise—I promise."

✧ a/n: heyyyyoooo (´◡`)

if this has mistakes or continuity errors, please forgive me, i only picked up this draft after i abandoned it since october

thank you for waiting for this part! i really appreciate everyone who engaged with part i and waited for this one. it took me really long to post this because i wasn't feeling it, idk 🥺 pls forgive me

i'll try to update soon!!

if you liked reading this, please let me know? i'd appreciate a comment, reblog, like or an ask! my ask box is always open and i love to know your thoughts on anything pls i'm lonely 🥺

so if any of you guys have read my other fics, you may or may not have noticed that all my fics are connected in one single universe hehe. i might make a masterpost soon. so stay tuned for that and,

✧ PART 3 !!✧

anywhoos, i love you all ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

toodles

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