#i am happy to help any way i can 💜

[arcielee]

Yo Kalki here 👋

I absolutely adore your writing - they are soo well-crafted and I love that you have a certain style which is quite rare to find in fan-fiction writings that tends to mimic the style of its own source material. Personally, I too find that extremely hard to capture, and for most of us, we rely on books and TV shows to mimic a narrative style for our own stories.

My ask is regarding the 'writing' and 'editing' stages - so, usually for someone like me whose first language is not English, I tend to plan out a plot and just write the outline (a skeleton of a plot, essentially) without the dialogues. I then go and 'fill in' the rest depending on the style and theme I am hoping to aim there. Honestly, I am still very bad at dialogues and usually rely on existing phrases (from shows or books) to go by. Here, I wanted to ask if you have any advice for making sure that one's writing has a consistent tone and point of view, while still being a cohesive narrative? If it is not too much trouble, could you explain the process you follow when writing and editing your own work? You are under no obligation to answer this question; I understand if it sounds too convoluted.

Also, I was wondering if you write professionally? In addition to fanfiction, I mean. You're truly in a league of your own!! There is another author I greatly enjoy who has their own unique voice in their fanfic writings - @elleinmotion. Their Aemond/OC story is amazing, and one of my favorite WIPs to keep up with.

Hello Kalki 💜 This was so lovely of you to send. I am doing a Read More so I can give you the response you absolutely deserve.

First of all, I just want to say thank you. I pour my heart into every piece I post here or on ao3, and knowing you enjoy reading what I create... my heart is just overflowing.

Also, I was a grinning fool when you said I have a certain style. I just love that. So again, thank you. 💜

For my writing and editing process:

This is cliché, and he is not an influence of mine, but Mark Twain once said it best: to write what you know.

I apply this to my fictional crushes 😂 I research them, study them, pay attention from their mannerisms down to their diction, until I have an understanding [or believe I have an understanding] of them.

Then I daydream dialogues to try and get a feel for how they would react or what they would say in response to my made up scenarios.

For me, daydreaming is probably one of my best tools, but I now make sure I have a pen and pad of paper, a notepad on my phone, so I can write down a conversation that comes to me, whenever inspiration strikes.

Here is some of the random snippets I take down for stories I have posted and stories I am working on. I try to get out everything so it can trigger the memory whenever I sit down to write:

Now, whenever I am struggling with how someone would say something, or if the conversation is stilted, not flowing like I need it to, I will reach out for help, asking my specialist, my beta readers to brainstorm an idea or have them read over whatever monstrosity I wrote.

A writing community is wonderful to have and I have been fortunate to collect these talented souls from the amazing pieces I come across this hellsite. When I reblog, my brain will tuck them away with the thought: "This fic was nifty, they are my Aegon Specialist™."

I have no shame to reach out and see if they would not mind me bothering them with a question about whatever I am struggling to put together. 😂

And whenever I edit, I find that taking a day or two away from a piece, returning to it and reading it out loud is the best way to catch any grammatical mistakes. For example, I read all my stories to my editor, Jaxy:

A beta reader can also be wonderful help, but make sure you let them know what you need when they read it over. And when you find one that is just brilliant, make sure to cherish them, shower them with compliments, get them snacks, etc. They are truly doing the work of the gods [the old, not the new].

For you last question, I do not write professionally. I actually started writing fanfiction around 13 or 14, though I daydreamed about being a published author.

I did do some technical writing and editing for a few years, and then transitioned over to coding, so now I do dev work for an app + their website.

But who knows what's next? Maybe one day I will write a book 😊

[reverieblondie]

I really like the shy s/o headcanons you did. If I can, I’d like to request hcs of Haarlep, Gale, Halsin, & Astarion (& anyone else you might feel like adding) w/ a s/o that’s almost always cool and collected (sort of like a kuudere).

Thanks! 💜

So I am unsure If I didn't go cool enough or if I went to Kuudere for this request, but I really enjoyed writing it so I hope you enjoy reading it! Last Bullet point is NSFW!

Gale

Gale isn't exactly sure how to explain why his heart stirs when he sees you, it just does. You could be reading quietly by the campfire or cutting down enemies, but he always has the same thought when he sees you: Elegance. Your stoic demeanor and how you carry yourself with such grace have been swirling in his brain since your first meeting. You could be covered in any amount of filth but you will still have that keen look in your eye and speak in such an articulated fashion that to him it sounds like poetry, though you know it's not. Posed and a cool tone always the same, Gale finds a certain comfort from being around you. It's kinda nice he's always close by. Sure, he can be a dork, but Gale feels things so deeply, a thing you wish you could relate more to. Though with Gale you find that a part of you is becoming softer, it's mainly directed towards him but it's an improvement. Gale admires you and you think he deserves to be as equally admired and you don’t mind being that person for him. It only will lead to him falling for you more. 

You and Gale were enjoying a moment together in his tent. It had become something like a ritual that at the end of the day as everyone settled into their tents Gale would read aloud a book to you or anyone else who wanted to join. Tonight, however, his tent only had one guest, you. As Gale read his eyes flicked up toward where you were sitting beside him listening intently. You two had found yourselves in the position before on other nights, but tonight was different. You were quiet and so close, in fact from how close he could smell the subtle sweetness that laces itself to your skin. Always so elegant, even now with your hair slightly disheveled from the day. Sitting so patiently for him to continue reading. Gently, Gale brushes the hair back, his fingers grazing you so delicately. Looking at the text you see his smile as he slightly leans in, you follow his lead without a second thought. Forgetting all about the story and relishing in the passionate kiss. You were both happy nobody joined you two for the story that night. 

Gale is always showing you his appreciation in any way he can. Making dinner for you and the rest of the camp. Reading to you and recommending books. Teaching you what he knows about magic, turns out he's a great teacher. You just want to be able to show your appreciation to him, you can just kiss him or go to his tent later and show him what he means to you ,but you want to work on expressing yourself. You were helping him prepare dinner for everyone, as he cooked and would look over at you he would have that same sweet smile on his face. It’s time to express yourself and dig deep. “Do you know how much you mean to me? You are wonderful, and…I’m happy to be yours.” Hours later Gale was still giddy from the sudden phrase. 

Though you try to express your love for Gale through words like he so often does, sometimes words just lack the way you truly feel for him. That's how you two often end up in this situation. Gale with a fist full of your hair bites his lip as he watches you through lidded eyes. He's cummed twice now but you're still down there sucking and licking on him, overstimulating him for more. Though he's completely flushed, you're still looking up at him with those keen eyes as cool as always. On the inside your body is a flame of want, but you know how much he loves your elegant lips wrapped around him. Don’t worry it's your turn after he gives you one more…

Haarlep

You drive them crazy…You're so calm and collected at all times, despite their teasing and taunting you never give anything away. Harrlep wants you to break, they are desperate to be the cause and are very open about telling you this. But you always keep your cool demeanor. It's become a game for them, to be the one to have your resolve tremble down to lust. You on the other hand find their want oddly amusing. Typically games like this don’t interest you but the amount of time Haarlep devotes to you, the way their hungry eyes rake over you does make something in you stir…Maybe one day you will let their game progress, but it will be on your terms, for now, they will have to be pleased with your smiles as you leave them hanging. The chase makes it all the better. 

They had grown tired of the game as they watched you ramage around the House of Hope looking for whatever artifact you needed this time on your adventure. Haarleps fiery eyes watched as you were browsing around not even turning to share a glance with them. Haarlep had tried it all, whispering filth in your ear, running their tail up and down your back, hells they even tried ignoring you back but nothing worked in making you want them. Now here you are alone with them and still nothing. Their irritation grew till they finally cracked. Grabbing your arm Haarlep spun you around to grab your chin ���I don’t take kindly to be ignored.” they growled right before they brought their lips to yours and kissed you. The kiss was raw and passionate, their heated lips made you feel like you caught an instant fever. Haarlep had to hold your weight as your limbs turned to jelly. A sudden rush in your lower stomach was tempting you with depraved thoughts of more. They tasted like the finest wine you could indulge in forever if you wanted to. As they broke the kiss and looked at you expectantly for any kind of reaction; hate, want, anything to tell them you felt anything at all. Haarleps eyes widened at what they saw and their lips spread to a delighted smile. Your eyes doe like in a breathless expression with the tinting of red to your cheeks. You were blushing because of them. 

After defending Raphael Haarlep was free to do whatever they wanted and what did they decide to do? Join you on your adventures, though the relationship between you two was never defined exactly you knew that deep down you were theirs, your soul be damned. Haarlep was always waiting for you and though they would play it off as just for fun you saw the way their eyes would soften when you emerged to your room. Though, sometimes you felt like Haarlep was putting on a show for you at times. You want them to be comfortable and not have to perform for you. “No games Haarlep…Can I please just hold you?” When you first asked this Haarlep seemed confused by the idea of cuddling, but as they laid their head against your chest to have you then softly you wrapped your arms around them. Haarlep lays there in your arms silent, the only noises are the soft sounds of your breathing and the thrumming of your heart. This intimacy…stirs something within them…

Haarlep is always the one to take the lead in your relationship, you figured they liked the feeling of control. But after they made a teasing comment about you needing to be more aggressive with what you want, you took it to heart, and they were so happy you did. They were getting drunk off it, your moans leaving your swollen lips as they held your wrist in their warm hands. You bounce up and down on them, taking them in so deeply. You're delicious as you tighten around their cock so close to coming undone but holding back. Your eyes are watching Haarlep so intently, it's strange they rarely ever get raddled during sex but with how you are looking right now they might be the ones to come undone first this time…

Halsin

You're different compared to others he has encountered. Halsin is so used to people becoming nervous or giddy when he is around, some disdain him, many are eager to befriend him, and then there are others wanting to bed him. But you? You never give anything away to how you might feel…well that was the case till he figured you out. It was a simple praise, he thought nothing much of it as he told you how good you were. The way your cheeks glowed red as your eyes stayed to his…it was a slight crack to your shield and he wanted more, he wanted to watch you blush and be the reason for it, he wanted you to feel better and have all the praise you deserved. Halsin would praise you every day just so he could witness your flustered features. Halsin figured out how to get past your shields and despite this usually being something to mortify you, it was instead a welcomed change. It's odd feeling vulnerable to another person but Halsin is a gentle soul, he will treat you tenderly.

Halsin had invited you out on one of his typical hikes through nature as the others visited the nearby town. Halsin being a druid preferred nature to make him more relaxed and you preferred being around Halsin so it was a win-win situation. Halsins soothing voice and calm dementor always put you at ease, though today as you walk closely to his towering figure something deep within you stirs. You come to an abrupt stop and he follows looking down at you curiously. His hazel eyes took you in then smiled softly, it made your heart skip and you finally knew what was happening to you. “I think I want to kiss you.” You say bluntly. Halsin looks at you surprised then smirks, “You think, or you know?” You stare at him, not breaking your gaze, “I know I do.” Halsin opens his arms out to embrace you, “Then come here.” His voice purrs. You place your hands on his wide chest and let him take the lead. The kiss was slow and intimate and tasted like honey.

Halisn is a giver, he is always bringing you gifts like flowers, fresh ingredients, rare stones, and his favorite showering you in praise till your cool dementor falters and you blush like an idiot. You want to do something for him, give him something that you know he would enjoy. After much consideration and time, you had the perfect gift. You approached him very casually with it hidden behind your back. Halsin, not being a fool, knew something was up when you were already blushing and he hadn’t praised you yet. When you finally revealed it he felt his heart squeeze. A poorly made wooden duck, “You make it look so easy…” you say simply and he can’t help but laugh, the rest of the day he told you how to properly make a wood carving. It's now become your favorite bonding time.  

Lovers in the past have always been so ravenous when it came to intimacy with him. Scratching, Biting, just being rough in general. You, however, treat him as if he were made of glass, blushing softly, cooing, and caressing him tenderly. Halsin has seen you in a fight, you are forced to be reckoned with, but in the intimacy in his arms, you are blushing and sweet. You speak every honeyed praise that comes to your mind as he goes down on your drinking in your release. Your voice in pleasure is becoming his favorite song these days. 

Rolan

When he first laid eyes on you he immediately thought you were one the coolest people he’s ever seen. It was right after a fight, your teammates were cheering and hollering as you all came into the grove, and you walked in the background watching your ragtag group. Then your eyes met his. You didn’t wave, or smile, you just simply gave a nod towards him. Cal and Lia swear they have never seen Rolan blush so much, of course, he denied it, but on the inside his heart was racing. After that day he found himself wanting to have you think he was as impressive. Lucky for him you did find him impressive, not only because he was a talented wizard but because he was an ambitious dreamer. You admired all he did for his family and found yourself lightening up every time you got to talk to him. His rich voice always made your head fill with stars despite your cool outside. As a couple you and Rolan are almost inseparable, you're always there to be his calming present and he brings an extra spark to your life. He might think you're the cool one, but in your eyes it's him.   

Rolan had done what Cal and Lia deemed impossible, he managed to ask you out on a date finally and was successful. A sunset stroll through the city was the plan and it was going well. Rolan was putting on his best confident demeanor as you listened to him intently, your bright eyes watching him carefully. Gods, how he loved your eyes, hair, body, and lips. Rolan felt his palms getting sweaty as he kept glancing at you. Each time his eyes landed on your perfectly kissable lips. He wanted so badly to just grab you and kiss your lips, stealing a taste for him to hold onto forever. Though his stuttering and nerves were getting in the way of that, he wanted you to think he was cool and collected, a perfect match for you. He can’t just grab you and kiss you!  Tail swishing around irritatedly, he is chastising himself to get a grip on his emotions and to stop staring at you so desperately. Then feels his collar being pulled and suddenly your lips are on his. All of Rolans resolve leaves as he grabs your hips and deepens the kiss to one of desperate hunger. Backing you up to the closeted ally he wraps his tail around your leg as his tongue pushes into your mouth finally tasting you. Breaking from the kiss to catch your breath Rolan accidentally lets a whimper slip from his throat. “You…kissed me, why?” You shrug, “I figured you wanted to considering how you kept staring at my lips.” Rolan groans, “You must find me pathetic…” you touch your hand to his cheek and kiss his lips again, “No, I think you're just passionate. Makes me want to be more like you.” Rolan felt the blush creeping to his ears, it was the best date. 

Rolan worked so hard it was something you both admired about him but it also made you worried for him. He just worked so hard to provide for his family. You wish you could do something for him to help, but pulling him away from his desk is often an impossible task. He was in his study for what might have been hours now. Entering his study you saw him scribbling away, it wasn’t until you cleared your throat that he looked up. In your hands a tray of his favorite meal he had mentioned his adoptive mother making for him Cal and Lia as kids. He was a bit shocked you remembered him talking about the dish. Placing the tray down you cooed at him to take a break. And as he smelt the food he found that he was incredibly hungry. As he ate you undid his hair and scratched your nails on his scalp. Lending down you told him to join you for a bath and he of course couldn’t deny you.  

He just couldn’t help himself anymore, watching you handle everything effortlessly, always acting so cool…he needed you, now… His buckle was gently knocking against the shelf, your head leaning back against him as his breathy whines rang in your ear. Hard thrust drives his cock deeper and deeper, the tip nudging against your sweet spot. Then he brings his tail in and your cool demeanor melts away and you're a moaning crying mess. Rolan brings his hand to cover your cries…His hot breath pants in the shell of your ear, “Keep it down…The customers will hear you…” Nothing makes him feel more confident than feeling you come undone… 

Wyll

If Wyll had to pick anyone to follow blindly into a fight it would be you. You're smart and tactful, you keep a level head despite anything. Wyll sees you as the perfect definition of a leader and he would follow you to the hells if you needed it. Though if anyone asked you the same question you would answer that Wyll makes the better leader with his kind-hearted nature and determination. Despite you being quiet you find that with Wyll it doesn't matter, he can carry the conversion easily for the two of you and it wouldn’t even get awkward. You two just enjoy being around each other, you bring out the best in each other. With Wyll you are more gentle and he helps you see the world in a less harsh perspective. with him by your side you find yourself understanding and experiencing more emotions you didn't think you ever would. With you around Wyll finds fulfillment, if someone like you sees him as someone you want to be with maybe he is not as worthless as he once thought. You two are each other's perfect complement.

After a time of getting to know one another and being each other's closest confidants, Wyll knew it was time to take the relationship in a more serious direction. Wyll Imagined your first kiss would be underneath a canopy of stars. Alone so he could share all his feelings for you that he hoped you would reciprocate. Everything changed though when you took that arrow to your shoulder, mere inches away from your heart. Shadowheart had patched you up and now Wyll was here devotedly at your side listening to you chastise yourself for being careless and already planning a counterattack on the enemy camp. Reaching out carefully Wyll grabbed your hand to bring your attention to his gentle face. “Today I thought I would have lost you. In our adventures, I know there will be times when one of us will get hurt, maybe even killed. Please let me show you the depths of my affection before I am ever able to.” “How will-” “May I kiss you?” surprised you and gave a nod, with your permission Wyll gently dipped down to your still body and kissed your lips softly. His lips were as soft as you imagined they would be. 

Wyll from the moment you meet him you always think of him as the most self-sacrificing and selfless person you have ever met. He would give the shirt off his back for a stranger if need be. But after watching him long enough you noticed how he carried heavy loads and pushed himself so thin, and when he thought no one was looking he would wince and rub his neck. He needs to be shown how to treat himself better. In his tent he was resting his sore muscles when you walked in, a bottle of fine-smelling oil in your hand. “What-” but you are quick to cut him off “You have been neglecting yourself, let me rub this into your skin. Halsin says it's good for healing, now shirt off.” his cheeks warm, that same matter-of-fact nature he adores. The rest of the night was spent gently massaging all the knots and aching pain from his muscles…and talks of your futures after this adventure. the plan? You two staying together…

Your skin was so hot against his lips, every sweet whisper from his lips made your once stone-like body shake. The party's leader, always so composed, until underneath him… “You look perfect, here…and here…” As Wyll mumbles his praises he kisses every one of your scars tenderly, worshiping you in a way you didn't know you needed. Words die in your throat as he goes lower and lower till his lips are wrapping around your sex and you feel his tongue licking against you sloppy…Is this what it's like being worshiped by another? 

Astarion

When first meeting Astarion he was not so impressed by your cool and collected demeanor. Everyone at the camp had their quirks and then there was you, like a perfect impenetrable wall. Of course, He thought you had something to hide and was determined to get to the bottom of it. First getting through your walls was a challenge, he tried flirting and intimidation tactics but found that they didn’t make you stir in the slightest. (when in fact you know you would go to your tent after those conversions holding your hand to your chest like your heart was going to explode, but he didn’t need to know that.) It wasn’t until he stopped his facade and was more honest that you started to open up as well. Over time as he found out who you were and you found out more about him the two of you became fiercely protective of one another. Definitely a stranger to friends to lovers situation. In fact, on your first date you didn’t even realize it was a date till he told you. You were odd and not always easy to understand but for the first time in a long time he wanted to have real intimacy with someone and you wanted to let down your protective walls. 

You had gotten to him today with your bluntness, of course, he played the whole thing off like he didn’t care but inside he did and it was eating away at him not knowing why. It's late, the time of night that no creatures stir, well only one kind of creature does…his kind. You're asleep on your bedroll by the fire as per usual. You always sleep next to its warmth, Astarion figures that's what you crave like most creatures, warmth; something his cold body could never provide to you. Astarion shakes the thought, why would he even think of holding you? He doesn't even like you. Your damned aloofness pisses him off to no end. But as he is about to leave your slumbering side, you reach out and touch him. Your heated skin warms his icicle-like fingers, he half expected you to wake and recoil, but you didn’t you seemed to be eased by it. Your plump lips parted slightly as you dream. Slowly leaning down he keeps his crimson eyes on your face, completely unaware of the danger you are in. This is where he bites your neck and drains you of your blood like the monster he is. But instead, he brings his cold lips to your warm ones and kisses you. After a moment he comes back to his senses and pulls away. As he looks down at you now there is just the slightest curl of a smile to your lips. Sweet dreams he supposes.  

Astarion, usually so charismatic and open to say anything he wanted, had seemed to be rather reserved lately. Now you are usually one to never notice these changes in people but when it comes to Astarion you couldn’t help but notice those subtle shifts. It was late, but you knew he would be up, you went into the tent he had been reading and immediately started to put on his cocky dementor when he saw you but you just ignored it and sat next to him. “So why do I get the pleasure of such a late night visit darling?” looking through his short stack of books you pick one that seems the most interesting to you, open it then speak, “You have seemed off, so this is me being here for you. I understand if you don’t want to talk about it, and I will leave if you would like.” you turn to look into his eyes “but spending time with you always makes me feel better so I am trying to do that for you.” Astarion seemed shocked but the confession for a moment before he gave you that rare soft smile. The night was spent in silence with you reading and he laid his head in your lap. Your warmth was exactly what he needed, but he wasn't ready to confess that yet.    

“Bite me…” Astarion looks down at you, your neck exposed and flushed, the slightest sheen of sweat causing you to glisten in the candlelight. He feels his gums itch above his fangs…he wants to feed from you…but would you think him a monster after? Insecurities and anxieties swirl in his mind. You two had just started getting intimate with one another…would this turn out to be too much for you, for him…Then a soft touch to his pale skin brings him back, “Star…Only if you're comfortable, but know I trust you. I just…I want to give you everything I can.” Your words are so calm, so confident in him, he loves it, feeling so safe with you. Leaning down slowly he Kisses your neck before sinking his teeth in. Your body tenses for a moment before you're lulling into the saccharine of pleasure. Breaking away he licks your running blood from your neck as he looks down at you. Please know…that he loves you, endlessly.

[turtle--soup]

Okay.

I have not seen ROTTMNT yet, but I've picked up some stuff from just floating around the fandom. Something I've learned, which is discussed in this post here, is that Rise Leo is generally considered - and considers himself the 'Face Man' of the team. (GIFs below are swiped from the linked post by @risestarkiss - I couldn't find them in tumblr's gif search function...)

Anyway. This is interesting to me because I am, for my sins, also a fan of The A-Team.

(I promise this is going somewhere! If you want to find out where I'm going with this, I'll put the rest of the post under a cut because it got a little long...)

For those of you unfamiliar with The A-Team, it's a (very silly) 80s TV series about a group of Vietnam War veterans who are on the run from the government after being convicted of a crime they didn't commit. The four of them spend their lives in hiding, making a living by using their combat skills to help people in need.

Here they are:

Left: Colonel John 'Hannibal' Smith, leader of the team, brains of the outfit and most likely to have become an evil mastermind in an alternate timeline.

Right: Sergeant B.A. Baracus. Nicknamed 'Bad Attitude' due to his lack of patience for bullshit, B.A. is the resident tough guy but also an absolute teddy bear of a man, and is always ready to help people, especially children and the elderly.

Left: Captain H.M. 'Howling Mad' Murdock is the team's pilot and can fly just about anything. As his nickname suggests, he's considered a bit eccentric and is a silly kind of guy. (He's also a permanent resident of a psychiatric hospital but let's not get into that right now.)

Right: Lieutenant Templeton Peck. His role in the team is to provide them with whatever they need, whether that be vehicles, weapons, tools or access to places. He usually achieves this using his charm and wit, gaining him the nickname 'Face Man.'

Okay, so bearing these descriptions in mind, look at Leo's dialogue in this GIF:

I'm assuming that Donnie is the brainy guy, Raph is the smashy guy, and Mikey is the 'eats peanut butter with his fingers guy'. And Leo is the Face Man. That's his role.

But these descriptions fit the members of The A-Team too. Hannibal is the brainy guy, B.A. is the smashy guy, Murdock is the guy who absolutely eats peanut butter with his fingers (while maintaining unbroken eye contact throughout). And then there's Face.

How is this in any way relevant?

Well.

It just so happens that someone else is a fan of The A-Team...

Of course the Mirage turtles watched The A-Team! It was a popular show in the mid-80s, and you have to admit - they do have a lot in common, being four guys fighting injustice from the shadows and all... The A-Team even have a friend on the outside who helps them out - Amy Allen.

She's a reporter. Like someone else we know...

But which of the Mirage turtles in the image above is suggesting they should watch The A-Team?

According to this bio card from 1990 that coincides with the 1987 series...

... it might be Leo!

Was this intentional on the part of the Rise writers? I don't know!

Is it relevant? Probably not!

Does this tentative link between these two silly 80s series make me ridiculously happy? Yes!

Was this entire post just leading up to this? Yeah... sorry...

I like to think that the link is intentional. I've heard that Rise makes reference to other iterations of TMNT, as they all do. I would just personally love it if someone on the team wanted to draw parallels between these two series on purpose!

Anyway.

I just noticed that and really needed to get it off my chest! Thank you to everyone who stuck with this longer-than-intended post right to the end! 💙💜❤🧡

[here2bbtstrash]

the shape of your body (explicit)

genre: fluffy slowburn smut

pairing: jimin x reader

summary: the same day you finally manage to speak to your months-long public transit crush, you end up seeing much more of him than you bargained for.

word count: 24k 🙇‍♀️

contains: explicit sexual content~*~ (after a slow burn lmao) - new york city grad school AU, strangers to lovers, reader is an art student, public transit thirsting, jimin is a dancer and a nude model, namgi and vhope as side characters, basically everyone is gay (they're ART STUDENTS in NEW YORK CITY it's called realism 💅), a smidge of member x member side character relationships, jimin is biromantic demisexual 👀, conversations about body image issues/past relationship struggles/demisexuality and libido, soooo much making out, a couple "failed attempts" at sex, accidental voyeurism (but not how you think lmao YOU'LL SEE), showering together non-sexually, and: fingering, clit stim, nipple play, come eating/sharing 🤭 an attempted blowjob, face sitting, & protected sex (multiple rounds 🥵)

A/N: asjdshgkdfjgs i can't believe it's done 😭 there were so many times i thought i would never finish this fic !!! i have too many friends to thank for talking me off of SEVERAL ledges where i was convinced this whole thing was trash and that i should just stick to short porn or perhaps simply never write again. i'm so glad i saw this one through because there are concepts in here that are deeply important and personal to me wehhh 🫠 i sincerely hope y'all enjoy this one!! thank u for enduring mostly radio silence while i was in jimin lockdown, and of course, happy early birthday to mini, the light of my mf life 🥰💜 (oh and LDOMLT ch 8 is coming next so buckle tf up bitches 👀)

an eternity of smooches to @haliiimede for beta reading and just generally being the best fucking person on planet earth ✨ AND TO @goodsoop FOR THE DEMI SENSITIVITY READ VERY SORRY THAT I AM THE WORLD'S LARGEST IDIOT AND FORGOT TO CREDIT..... i love you both 🥺

read on AO3!

~*~

You’ve taken the subway thousands of times since moving to New York.

Morning rides, squeezed nearly to death between commuters in suits blinking back sleep and school-uniformed kids scream-laughing and paper coffee cups gripped tight by winter-numb fingers.

Long trips with your sketchbook on your lap, riding the line all the way to Pelham Bay Park and back, to surface above ground out where there’s a little more space to breathe, until the setting sun floods orange glow between the buildings just before you descend again.

Late nights coming home, Namjoon’s head thudding back against the train window behind him as he dozes off, one arm thrown around your shoulder to ward off any drunk creeps, his free hand interlaced with Yoongi’s on his other side.

It’s always been the three of you, first in friendship, and now that the two of them have figured out they’re something more, you don’t mind it. But when it’s late and you’ve had enough drinks to feel warm all the way through, to melt something open inside of you, and you glance over to see a loving flicker of eyelashes exchanged as Namjoon leans down and presses a kiss to Yoongi’s temple, you can’t help it.

There’s a little bit of an ache there, right behind your ribs. Sometimes.

But mostly, when it comes to the train, you take the 6 to school. You go through the motions this morning the same as you always do: headphones around your neck, bag slung over your shoulder, immediately dropping into the first empty seat you see as the train doors shudder closed and the car starts to move. Six stops down, 51st street to Astor Place, five days a week, you know it like a heartbeat.

You just wish you knew him, too.

Subway Boy, as Yoongi affectionately labeled him the time you got two pitchers of margaritas deep and made the mistake of confessing to your roommates about your crush— if it can even be called that. Can you truly have a crush on someone you know nothing about, not even their name?

Well, you know a few things.

He must live further north than you, because on the days you see him, he’s already on the train when you board at 51st.

He must like music, because he always has a set of fancy bluetooth earbuds in.

You’re pretty sure he’s an athlete of some sort, because he’s usually carrying a gym bag—and because during this summer’s heat wave, the one and only time you’ve seen him wear shorts, you nearly fainted at the thick, defined muscles of his thighs.

He has an affinity for jewelry, delicate silver always glinting through the multiple piercings in his ears. At odds with this, he seems to prefer to dress comfortably, and you’ve seen him in enough branded school t-shirts and sweats to figure he must also be an NYU student, though you can’t say for sure if he’s undergrad or graduate.

You deeply hope you’re not crushing on someone who still needs a fake ID to drink, but there’s no way to be certain.

Most importantly, you know that he is absolutely stunning. Elegantly handsome, with expressive deep brown eyes, skin like glass, and round cheeks and full lips that flush frozen pink on particularly frigid New York days. His hair has changed colors a few times over the months that have passed since you first took notice of him, but it’s currently a honey blonde, and long enough that he often reaches up to card a hand through it. He does it now, pushing loose strands back to expose his forehead as he frowns down at his phone.

On days where you share the same car, you notice very little else that happens on the ride, thoroughly entranced in Subway Boy’s beauty and his mystery. The train could probably catch fire and you’d miss it entirely.

Today happens to be one of those days, and excitement glitters in your bloodstream as you realize he’s seated across from you. The rush of seeing him always feels like its own reward, some kind of cosmic sign that the day is going to be a good one.

And then the train stops moving.

There’s an audible reaction from a few people in the car, and you glance up a moment later when a voice buzzes over the intercom. You’re able to make out “attention passengers” and very little after that, just the basics about some sort of unforeseen interruption of service and that the train should resume moving again soon.

You sigh, knowing very well that the MTA’s definition of ‘soon’ does not often align with typical human expectations. Figuring you’ve got some time to kill, you reach into your bag to retrieve your sketchbook and the first pencil you can dig out of the bottom.

“What did they say?” A voice, quiet and deep, surprises you before you can even flip to your in-progress page.

You glance up to find Subway Boy staring at you, forearms braced on his knees as he leans forward into the gap between his seat and yours. He’s got one bluetooth earbud pinched between his fingertips and a confused look on his face, having clearly missed the announcement.

Heat floods your face at the feeling of his eyes fixed on you, and it takes you a second to form a response. “Uh— I didn’t get most of it. Something about unforeseen interruption. And that we’ll be moving again soon.”

A muscle works in his jaw as he rolls his eyes. “Typical.”

“I don’t think they know what ‘soon’ means,” you murmur, mostly to yourself as you tear your gaze away from Subway Boy and return to the sketchbook in your lap, rifling through to find your latest half-finished drawing. When you hear him huff a laugh, you have to bite down on the hopeful smile that threatens to shine across your face.

“Definitely not.”

You force yourself to keep your eyes on the page, assuming Subway Boy must go back to his music when he falls silent after his last comment.

With featherlight flicks of your pencil, you start to add a little depth to the quick study you were working on last night, Yoongi’s half-peeled tangerine that he left abandoned on the coffee table when he stepped out onto the fire escape for a smoke.

Subway Boy’s voice catches you off guard a second time. “Are you drawing?”

You bite down on your lip again, a nervous habit, and you nod as you tilt the page so he can see from across the car.

“Wow.” You wonder if you’re imagining the way his voice seems to soften a little. “You’re really good. Are you an artist?”

You can’t help it— your gaze flits up to meet his again. It’s nearly overwhelming to lock eyes with your Subway Boy and hear him compliment you, like something out of a wild daydream. “I guess so,” you remark, the corner of your mouth tugging up into a small smile as you say it. “I’ve certainly paid NYU enough money in my attempts to become one.”

“Know the feeling,” he scoffs, but his eyes smile back, pulled into crescent moons.

“What did you pay them for?”

“Currently, a dual MFA/MA in dance and… teaching dance. Really went all-in on the dancer thing.”

“Oh.” Your eyes widen automatically. You’ve wondered— and yes, occasionally drunkenly speculated with your roommates— what Subway Boy’s line of work might be, but you have no idea why dancer never occurred to you. Because now all the pieces suddenly fall together in front of you: the toned muscles that flex beneath the sleeves of his t-shirt, the natural grace he exudes, not to mention his perfect posture.

Of course he’s a dancer. It makes perfect sense.

It occurs to you, a beat too late, that a wide-eyed ‘oh’ is not the most normal response to a truly innocuous answer to a question asked of a random stranger.

But the smile in his eyes doesn’t falter. “I feel like I see you on this train a lot.”

Your stomach flutters like butterfly wings, and you have to look away, back down to the safety of your sketchbook. “Really?”

There’s an extra pause before he speaks again. “Man, sorry. Think I misread that. Now I feel creepy. I promise I’ve only noticed you a normal amount.” Your eyes snap back up to find him wincing slightly, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck.

“No, no, I’m— it’s not—” you stammer, trying to recover. “I, uh— me too, I have too. Noticed you. A normal amount. I… I don’t know why I just pretended like I didn’t.”

Subway Boy leans forward, head dropping down with a genuine laugh that shakes his shoulders, and you can’t help but laugh too, out of sheer embarrassment. He’s beaming when he rights himself again, and it sends a thrill buzzing through you, all the way down to your fingertips still clutched tight to your pencil.

“That makes me feel better,” he admits. “At least we’re both creepy.”

As if the universe itself is intervening to save you from any further humiliation, the train shudders back to life and begins to move again. The sigh you breathe is a strange mixture of relief and disappointment.

“That’s definitely a new record,” you say shyly as you move to shove your things back in your bag. “Maybe the MTA actually looked up what ‘soon’ means.”

His focus is tracked over your shoulder when you look up again, and his eyes dance left to right to chase the patterns in the subway tile as you pull into the next station.

“Guess it’s a miracle,” he says softly, not making eye contact.

“Must be,” you murmur back, letting your gaze drop to the floor, unable to hide your smile now.

He doesn’t say anything else, and neither do you, but the warm flush stays in your face for the rest of the ride. When the train pulls into the Astor Place station, you and Subway Boy get to your feet simultaneously, so quickly that your bags knock together as you pull them over your shoulders.

“Sorry,” you say in unison, immediately sharing an exhaled laugh at the synchronicity of the moment.

The doors slide open and he gestures for you to go first before following after. It’s a surprise— he’s never gotten off at Astor before, and when he doesn’t take the option of heading in another direction but instead falls into lockstep next to you, you seize the opportunity.

“Astor Place today, huh?” You hope the observation still falls into the category of ‘noticing a normal amount’.

“Yeah, first day of a new gig. What about you? Class?”

You nod. “Pretty standard stuff. But we start a new unit today, so that’s fun.”

“You in grad school too?”

“Yup, MFA in studio art.” You can’t help but tease, just a little. “Only one master’s degree for me, I’m such a slacker.”

His eyes squint again as he smiles. “Hey, I’m just glad you’re not, like, eighteen.”

“I thought that too!” You keep talking before you can stop yourself. “I mean, when I was… noticing. I distinctly remember thinking, like, please let me not be thirsting over a straight-up child right now.”

“Ahh...” Subway Boy trails off, and you can see a faint pink starting to blossom in the apples of his cheeks. “You were thirsting?”

You can’t help but scrunch your nose up slightly, resisting the urge to full-body cringe at your own stupid mouth. “We are now officially both creepy.”

He fidgets a little with the strap of the dance bag slung over his shoulder. “Hopefully I’m living up to the hype.”

You’re grateful to reach the art building before you can dig your grave any deeper. You nod your head in the direction of the glass doors as you slow to a stop, and he does, too. “This is me.”

“It’s actually me, too,” he remarks, glancing up at the building as if to double-check. “But I have a little bit, so I’m gonna grab a coffee I think. But it was nice to finally talk to you. Not that— sorry, that was weird. Take out the finally. It was good to talk. Meet a fellow starving artist and all.”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment, until you finally work up the courage to ask the question. “Do you have a name?”

“Oh!” His eyes widen, more heat-blush coloring his face. “Yeah. Park Jimin. Probably could’ve led with that.”

You give him your name, and his voice is like music when he repeats it back.

“Well, good luck in class,” Jimin says with a nod. “And hopefully I’ll see you around sometime.” A smile toys at the corner of his mouth, and then he pauses as his words seem to catch up to him. “Well, I mean. I guess I know I will. On the— train— yeah, I’m gonna go before I say any more stupid things.”

“Bye Jimin,” you giggle, and he gives a shy departing wave before he spins on his heel. As he walks away, you can’t help but notice the way he drops his gaze and shakes his head, like he’s thoroughly embarrassed by his social performance.

And just like that, Subway Boy has a name— one that loops in your head as you float to class, barely feeling your feet touch the floor. Park Jimin. It’s sweet like him, warm sunshine in your veins as you shoulder open the door to the studio, grab a seat, and start to get set up.

A voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin as Kim Taehyung leans in, having occupied the seat next to you while you were off in la-la land. “Know what the new unit is?” You start to shake your head, then realize it was a rhetorical question when he waggles his eyebrows and continues. “Life drawing. Ready for some naked people?”

You roll your eyes and grab at the strings of his gray beanie, pulling it down over his fluffy hair and eyes in one swift tug. “Bro, we are literally in grad school. Stop acting like a virgin.”

“Like you weren’t thinking it too,” he grumbles to himself as he shoves the hat back up his forehead.

You shoot him a look as your professor signals the class to settle and launches in. It’s the same routine as each unit you’ve rotated through in your graduate studio, so you only half-listen, mostly distracted by Taehyung tearing open the paper wrapper of a red heart-shaped lollipop and popping it into his mouth. His latest oral fixation in his millionth attempt to quit vaping.

You lean down to dig into your bag, trying to ignore the sound of hard candy clacking against teeth as you fish out both pencils and charcoal to give yourself options. You pull a couple of each out of their cases, glancing up in an attempt to refocus on the professor, who is still talking.

It takes a second for your brain to process the image in front of you. His shy smile has been replaced with a serious, professional expression, but there’s no questioning the familiar face, the posture, the silver jewelry, the way he reaches up to run a hand through his hair. Subway Boy Park Jimin is standing in the center of the room, wearing a short black satin dressing gown.

Your jaw goes slack. It feels like it happens in slow motion as you watch Jimin’s strong hands move down to undo the sash at his waist before he shrugs off the flimsy fabric and lets it fall to the floor. And then he’s not wearing anything at all.

You lose your grip entirely on your handful of pencils, and they hit the studio floor with a clatter that certainly feels deafening, each one choosing to roll off in a different direction.

Taehyung glances over at you, brow slightly creased. The lollipop tucked in his cheek impedes his speech slightly, but not enough that you can’t understand him. “Now who’s the virgin?”

You crouch down, praying that maybe you can gather your things unnoticed, but it already feels like every pair of eyes in the room is burning a hole in your back. To his credit, Taehyung at least helps a little, extending a sandaled foot to kick any pencils he can reach over towards you. You scramble around the room to chase after the rest, and you can’t bear to look up and see if Jimin is watching you or not. You’re not sure which would be worse.

Fighting the urge to army crawl out of the room, you grip both hands tightly around your materials as you return to your seat, then tuck everything into the tray of the easel in front of you. You’re a professional, you tell yourself. It’s not like it’s your first time drawing someone nude.

It’s just your first time doing it when you happen to have a crush on them.

But it’s fine. You let out an exhale to ground yourself, then pick up a pencil. It’s just a body.

You vaguely recall hearing your professor explain that you’d be moving through ten quick-sketch poses to begin with, each held for only a few minutes, before switching to a few longer sessions for the rest of class. As you were too busy chasing your pencils around the room, you’ve missed the first pose entirely, and you have to work quickly to get a very rough outline of the second before Jimin moves again at the professor’s instruction.

He switches so fluidly from one pose to the next, and you have so little time, it’s enough to get you out of your head just trying to keep up. You find yourself falling comfortably into a flow state, focused on little more than lines and shapes in front of you and the act of reproducing them on your page. It’s an exercise you know well, and the repetition of it soothes you.

The studio is quiet, save for the scratching of pencils on paper and the soft classical music your professor has switched on.

By the time you finish sketching the tenth pose, it feels like you can breathe a little easier, and your professor offers Jimin a quick break just as you lean back to admire your work. You do your best to quickly duck behind your easel as he stretches, then reaches for a bottle of water set on a nearby table.

Taehyung removes his sheet of sketches and sets it aside before leaning in, pressing his face against his easel to match yours. “He’s cute. Bet he gets like, infinite ass-pussy. Just the absolute most.”

“Shut up, Tae!” You jerk your foot out to kick the leg of his chair, and a boxy grin stretches over his face as he giggles. You stare daggers back. “You’re too damn horny today. Like you didn’t just get your ass eaten in the supply closet last week.” The rumor had spread through your cohort practically overnight— probably started by Taehyung himself.

The menace in question shoots you an over-exaggerated wink. “And I’d do it again, too.”

You roll your eyes. “Nasty.”

The professor claps to get everyone’s attention again, and you peer around your easel to watch as Jimin resumes his place at the center of the room. You settle in for the first of a few longer, more detailed sketches, trying desperately to keep your cool about it. But Jimin is unquestionably gorgeous.

He turns to the side for the first pose, arms wrapped around his muscular torso and eyes downcast, fingertips and thumb resting over his neck and chin as if to cradle his own face in his hand. After a long stretch of time where you manage to get most of a sketch done, the professor cues him to move into a second pose, and he faces the back wall, reaching up to drape his arms over each other, crossed wrists resting delicately on the crown of his head.

You could easily see him as a statue carved out of marble, and you try to ignore the flutter of your heartbeat as you attempt to translate his beauty onto your page each time. You have to hold in several sighs as you work on outlining the strong, toned muscles of his back and thighs— not to mention his perky ass. You can’t help but wonder if the rest of the class is struggling silently, too.

You’re beginning to think you might survive after all when the professor asks Jimin to move again and he does, shaking his body out slightly before reaching to grab a provided stool and shift it to the center of the room. He takes a seat, abdominals flexing as he leans back on his hands and unabashedly lets his legs fall open.

Fuck. You nearly snap your pencil in half.

You try desperately to keep it together as you start your third sketch with unsteady hands. The minutes tick by, and you aren’t aware of Taehyung’s eyes on your paper until you hear his stupid whisper again. “Why aren’t you drawing his dick?”

He’s not wrong. There is a noticeable blank spot at the center of your page. “I’m getting there,” you huff. “Worry about your own sketch, Tae.”

“Girl, you are literally doing detail shading on his legs and he doesn’t even have a penis. What is he, a Ken doll?”

You grit your teeth and refuse to dignify Taehyung with a response. Fine. You can do this, you tell yourself. Don’t think. Just look and draw. It’s not a big deal.

With a hard swallow, you trace your eyes down his body, and… well, you don’t know what you were expecting. It’s just a soft penis resting limp between his legs, framed by an extremely regular pair of balls. Nothing scary, though you can’t quite will the heat back out of your face, can’t manage to silence the recurring thought that makes your stomach drop— it’s cute.

You resist the urge to smack your head against your easel as you finally fill in your sketch’s dick.

You somehow manage to survive the rest of class, but relief still floods your veins when your professor signals for everyone to wrap up what they’re doing for the day. Jimin starts to come alive again from the fixed pose, tilting his head to one side until something cracks audibly in his neck. You tear your gaze away for fear that his eyes might find yours, and shove everything into your bag as quickly as you can, not even caring what ends up where.

“Where’s the fire?” Taehyung questions beside you, but you ignore him.

You zip your bag up and sling it over your shoulder, then make a beeline for the exit, keeping your eyes fixed firmly on the floor. It’s only once the studio door swings shut behind you that you feel like you can breathe again, and you have to keep yourself from outright sprinting to your next class.

~*~

The rest of the day rushes by in an overwhelming blur, your focus entirely shot by the events of the morning. You collapse into a seat on your train home, hugging your bag to your chest, thankful for the first time in your life to not be sharing a subway car with Park Jimin.

When you turn your keys in the lock and stumble in the front door of the apartment, the divine smell of what could only be Yoongi’s cooking immediately hits you full-force. You find him in the kitchen with a towel thrown over his shoulder, searing a large steak in a cast iron pan for what must be a planned date night with Namjoon.

You wrap your arms around his tiny waist from behind as you approach. He responds with his usual greeting: a soft grunt of mild discomfort.

“Can I ask you a question?” you ask, trying to sound as sweet as possible.

“You just did,” Yoongi notes.

You decide to let his sass go, since you really do need help. “Two more?” Yoongi hums, somewhat affirmative, and you continue. “I know you work like 47 jobs and never get any time off—“

“Some of us have to pay rent without the luxury of stipends or rich parents, yes—“

“But is there any way I could… maybe possibly encroach upon your date night just this once? It’s an emergency. I need advice.”

Yoongi sighs, and you shift to peek over his shoulder, arms still wrapped around him as you watch the way he tilts the pan to one side, collecting butter on a spoon to baste over the steak as it cooks. You squish your cheek into his bicep.

“Lucky for you,” he begins, his tone relenting, “Namjoonie just called. They’ve got him working late to prep for the exhibition next month. So date night was canceled anyway.”

“Aw, Yoongiiiii.” You squeeze him tight enough that he makes another disgruntled noise, and you finally release your grip. “I’ll be your girlfriend tonight.”

He rolls his eyes, but willingly plays along. “Then get the wine, darling?”

You fall into a typical routine: Yoongi pulls a tray of roasted vegetables out of the oven as he lets the steak rest, while you grab a bottle of red at his instruction and fight with the corkscrew in an attempt to get it open. Yoongi watches you, slow-blinking, unamused.

“You wouldn’t last an hour in the restaurant industry.”

“Either help me, or shut up,” you hiss through clenched teeth.

When you finally get settled at your tiny kitchen table, Yoongi nods as if to prompt you while he fills each wine glass with a heavy pour. “Let’s hear it.”

You take a deep breath before launching in and recounting the events of your day, trying not to choke as you simultaneously stuff your face with food. Yoongi eats and listens quietly, no discernible reaction on his face save the occasional lift of his eyebrows. He leans back and crosses his arms over his chest as you finish detailing the way you ran out of the studio the minute class ended.

“Alright. So you saw Subway Boy naked, big deal. Do you know how many dicks I’ve seen?”

You groan. “Spare me the details, please.”

“But this is what you wanted, right?” You shrug, and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t play coy now. You’ve been lusting after this kid for months like a weirdo. So why are you stressed?”

“Because!” you huff, frustrated. “It’s— it’s out of order. It’s not like he chose to get naked in front of me specifically, he obviously just thought it was going to be a roomful of strangers. And it seemed like maybe we could be friends or something, but now I don’t know if I should keep pursuing that or just leave him alone. I want to be respectful, but I don’t want him to think I took one look at his penis and decided I didn’t like him anymore, but then it’s like, how do I hold a conversation when he and I both know I have seen his penis, not only seen but studied it, drawn it, and will continue to, weekly, in detail, from multiple angles—“

“You are absolutely overthinking this,” Yoongi laughs into his glass of wine, downing the rest before he continues. “Just get on the fucking train and say hi like a normal, well-adjusted human. This is my advice to you.”

You sigh as you shove a roasted potato in your mouth. “At least you’re a good cook.”

“I’m a great cook,” Yoongi corrects you as he gets to his feet. “Now help me with these dishes.”

~*~

Yoongi’s advice continues to echo in your brain as you lapse back into something like normalcy for the rest of the week.

When the day of your studio class rolls around again, you find yourself hustling not to miss the train, having hit snooze on your alarm a few too many times that morning. You fly down the subway steps just as the 6 is pulling into the station, and you try to ignore the way your pulse is already quickening, telling yourself it’s just from rushing and nothing else.

Pulling the strap of your bag up on your shoulder, you make it to the platform just as the train doors slide open, and your heart instantly leaps into your throat. There he is, leaning against a pole, overwhelmingly beautiful as ever. Park Jimin.

He’s scrolling through something on his phone and hasn’t yet looked up to notice you, and you find yourself frozen in place, jostled angrily by commuters exiting and boarding the train on either side of you.

Panic floods your veins. There’s no time to talk yourself off the ledge, no time to remember Yoongi’s words of wisdom, no time to do anything but make a snap decision. So you do the only thing that feels right: you turn around and sprint back up the stairs and out of the subway station.

The sidewalk is equally bustling, and you try to dodge people while you think through what to do despite the way your head is spinning. You were already going to be cutting it close for time today, and you don’t exactly have the disposable income for a taxi or an Uber. As you try to settle your racing thoughts, your eyes alight on a rack of Citibikes.

Fuck it. You don’t have a better option. Securing your bag on your back, you quickly scan the code to unlock the bike, then shove your phone in your pocket and swing your leg over the seat.

You’ve never biked in Manhattan traffic before, but it can’t be that difficult, you tell yourself. Definitely easier than sharing a subway car with Park Jimin.

Thankfully the street you’re on has a defined bike path, and you do your best to follow the flow of traffic, squeezing your hand brakes to slow to a stop when you hit a red light. It’s been years since you’ve ridden a bike that wasn’t stationary, but it comes back to you relatively easily, like— well, riding a bike.

When you hit a long stretch of green lights, you do your best to pick up speed, trying to make up for lost time. An approaching red light threatens to slow you down again, and you breathe a sigh of relief as it flips to green at the last possible second.

Just as your front tire rolls into the intersection, a deafening car horn nearly gives you a heart attack. You instinctively slam your grip tight around your brakes, and your bike screeches to a halt so fast you’re almost flung over the handlebars. A taxi just barely veers around you as it plows down the intersecting avenue, and you gasp for air, adrenaline coursing through your system.

Holy shit.

You drop one foot to the ground for leverage as you try to get your pulse back under control— you’re pretty sure you just saw your life flash before your eyes. Reality feels a million miles away, but you’re vaguely aware of someone shouting after the car as it speeds down the street.

“Fucking asshole!”

It takes a few seconds for you to realize that it’s a familiar voice, and when you do, you whip around as best you can with a bike between your legs.

“Yoongi?!”

“Oh my god,” Yoongi groans, knuckles blanching as he presses down on his own brakes. “What the fuck are you doing?”

You squint, taking in the helmet strapped over his wavy dark hair and the insulated bag tucked into the basket on the front of his bike. “Since when do you deliver food?”

He grimaces, speaking up to be heard over the noise of traffic. “I just do it to make extra money when my hours suck.”

“What about the coffee shop?”

He shakes his head. “They only have me opening Mondays and Wednesdays right now.”

“What about the bar?”

“That’s just weekends, reliably. Sometimes extra evenings, but only if someone calls out.”

“What about the—”

“Christ, woman!” Yoongi cuts you off with a growl. “The food’s gonna get cold if I have to sit here and run through my entire résumé with you! Are you alright? Why aren’t you taking the subway?”

“Because!” you snap back. “There is a man on that train whose dick I’ve seen and I… I don’t know how to handle it! Okay?!” Though you don’t intend to raise your voice, it comes out loud enough that a group of high school kids on their phones exchange stifled giggles as they fast-walk around you.

“Well you need to be fucking careful,” Yoongi chides. “Biking in the city is not for the faint of heart. And if I’m not allowed to give in to my suicidal ideation, you’re not allowed to crack your head open on the pavement all because you’re trying to avoid a penis.”

“Fine,” you spit back through gritted teeth. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get to class.” You push off the asphalt, legs still shaking a little with excess nerves as you re-find your balance and make your way cautiously through the intersection.

The rush of wind in your ears isn’t quite loud enough to drown out Yoongi calling after you as you bike away. “It’s only weird if you make it weird!”

When you somehow make it to Astor Place in one piece, you dock your bike and quickly sprint to the building, well aware that you’re already late. It’s only once you push the studio door open that you realize how truly frazzled and out of breath you are, and though you keep your gaze fixed on the floor, you can feel every pair of eyes in the room on you. You hold a hand up in an apologetic wave and hurry to find your seat.

Trying to collect yourself, you begin to unpack your materials as quietly as possible so as not to disturb the class. You nearly jump out of your skin when you hear Kim Taehyung’s voice beside you.

“You’re sweaty. Why are you so sweaty?”

He’s got an eyebrow cocked when you look over, and you give him the most powerful death glare you can muster, enough that it must actually scare him. “Shutting up now,” Taehyung murmurs, voice shaking slightly as he returns to his own sketches, and you huff an exhale as you attempt to catch up to the rest of the group.

Class passes surprisingly quickly once you manage to get your breath back, much in the same way it did the week prior: you do your best to compartmentalize the body in front of you from the human person you have a giant, embarrassing crush on. It goes decently well in the moments where Jimin is frozen in a fixed pose, just lines and curves and light and shadow for you to emulate. During the breaks when he comes alive again, you hide out behind your easel, trying to ignore Taehyung’s inane bullshit and wishing you could disappear entirely.

The second your professor dismisses everyone for the day, you stuff your things back into your bag, hoping to once again speed-walk out of the room.

But despite your better judgment, you can’t help yourself this time. As you get to your feet, you glance up to watch Jimin pull his dressing gown back on, only to realize his eyes are already on you.

You’re distinctly aware of how much of a mess you must look from biking over, and the fact that you almost assuredly smudged charcoal on your face when you reached up absentmindedly to scratch an itch mid-sketch.

Jimin’s plush lips turn up in the smallest of smiles, and the bottom drops out of your stomach.

With a hard swallow, you avert your gaze from his, sling your bag over your shoulder, and quickly make your escape through the studio door. You can feel your pulse pounding in your throat even after he’s out of your sight, and your hands shake like a leaf all the way to your next class.

~*~

That night, sleep evades you until the early hours of the morning, and it feels like you’ve only just begun to doze off when the harsh noise of your alarm pulls you up from dreaming. You roll over in bed and glare accusingly at your phone, then shut it off, promptly letting the waves drag you under once more, seminar be damned.

It’s nearly noon when you finally make it out of bed and stumble into the living room in your sweats. Namjoon is curled up in his reading chair, a feat for someone of his size, surrounded as always by his massive stack of ever-changing ‘to read’ books. He glances up from the one that’s open on his lap, clearly surprised to see you.

“No class?” Namjoon’s voice is rough-edged, like he’s only just woken up himself.

“Skipped,” you grunt. His eyes track you as you cross the room and collapse face-first onto the couch.

“Is this about the penis?”

The cushion muffles your groan. “Not you too.”

You hear the distinct fluttering sound of Namjoon closing his book and shifting in his seat to give you his undivided attention. “Seems like you want to talk about it.”

You turn your head to the side to take in your roommate. “Maybe. Are you gonna give me the same stupid advice your boyfriend did?”

He smiles softly, one dimple flexing at the corner of his mouth. “I can try to be gentler.”

You huff as you flip onto your side, pressing your palms together and slipping them under your cheek. “Sounds like you’ve got the details already, so please. Enlighten me. Tell me how I’m supposed to handle seeing this guy naked once a week in the name of art.”

“Didn’t William Blake say ‘Art can never exist without naked beauty displayed’?” Namjoon poses it like a serious question, brow creased as if in contemplation, and you roll your eyes.

“I don’t know, Joon, did he? I said enlighten me, not write me a thesis.” You reach up to grab a couch pillow and fling it in his direction, missing by several inches. “Did Blake have anything in there on dealing with a naked crush and trying not to make it weird as fuck?”

“Well, does he seem weirded out by it?” Namjoon counters, patient as ever.

“I don’t know.” You shrug unsurely as you play back your last interaction with Jimin. “He smiled at me yesterday, at the end of class.”

Namjoon steeples his fingers together, leaning forward slightly in his chair, interest clearly piqued. “Okay, and what did you do?”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “I… threw all my shit in my bag and ran out of the room.” When you crack an eye open again, you can see Namjoon trying and failing to keep the smug smile off his face, his dimples giving him away.

“Maybe you could try smiling back next time?” he gently suggests.

You sigh, because you know he’s right. “You make it sound so easy. What’s next? You’re going to tell me to talk to him?”

He laughs a little. “I’d quote another poet, but I fear you might launch more projectiles at me.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Let’s hear it, nerd.”

Namjoon clears his throat for dramatic effect before launching into a recitation. “‘It’s cool, not tryna put a rush on you / I had to let you know, that I got a crush on you.’”

There’s a wide grin on his face as you sit all the way up. “Did you just quote Biggie Smalls at me?”

“Hey, I appreciate all forms of poetry.”

You feign annoyance, but you can’t quite hide the smile beneath it, and you get to your feet as Namjoon continues to mumble a verse of Crush on You under his breath. “Whatever. I need to do laundry.”

“Oh—” Namjoon pauses to interrupt himself. “Lucky’s closed, by the way.”

Already halfway out of the living room, you whip around again at the mention of the laundromat you’ve been exclusive with for the last few years. “What?”

He nods solemnly. “Me and Yoongi found out the hard way last week. They’re putting in an Equinox.”

Your face twists in disgust. “A stupid bougie gym?! You’ve got to be kidding me. Where am I supposed to wash my fucking clothes?”

“We found a place a few blocks up. Quick Clean, or something like that.” Namjoon shifts to dig his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll send you the address. It’s not bad, just a little more expensive.”

“This is such bullshit,” you groan as you stomp back into your bedroom, the day already off to a terrible start.

In a gentrification-induced rage, you angrily shove the contents of your overflowing laundry hamper into the giant yellow IKEA bag hung up in your closet, just barely managing to fit it all. Glancing at the mirror on the back of the door, you briefly consider changing out of your sweats, or at the very least doing something with your hair, but you shrug it off— it’s not like you’re trying to impress anyone at the damn laundromat.

You grab your headphones off your desk and sling them around your neck, double-check that your sketchbook is still tucked into your bag, then lug everything out to the front hallway. You pull your slides off the shoe rack and slip your socked feet into them.

“Bye, nerd!” you call over your shoulder to Namjoon before the front door slams shut behind you.

By the time you make it to the weird new laundromat, you’re sweaty and pissed off. You knew the walk to Lucky’s by heart, but you had to do this one while looking down at your phone GPS and trying not to get hit by a car. Not an easy feat while carrying every article of clothing you own over one shoulder.

You miss the way the nice old man who owned Lucky’s would greet you warmly and sneak you a cup of coffee from his pot in the back, the way his cat would roll over on the front counter for belly rubs, the way there was always a deeply entertaining telenovela playing on the ancient tiny TV.

The stupid Quick Clean has none of these things, just a shitty pile of magazines in the seating area and weirdly sticky floors. You slam into the front door a little harder than is necessary to push it open, the bell tinkling violently overhead as you enter. The only compliment you can give the place is that it’s relatively dead, save for a couple people on their phones or half-asleep in chairs as they wait on their stuff, and two guys in the corner loading armfuls of wet clothes into a pair of dryers.

You grab a machine a respectful distance away from them and swing the door open when a laugh that’s nearly musical gives you pause. Unable to shake a sense of familiarity, you glance over at your neighbors again, just in time to see one of them reach up to run a hand through his honey blonde hair.

Your IKEA bag hits the sticky floor with an audible thud as panic kickstarts your heart.

This isn’t fucking happening. Of all the laundromats in New York City, you did not just manage to stumble into the one currently being used by Park Jimin.

But even before you can catch a glimpse of his profile, you’re already certain it can’t be anyone else. You’ve spent too much time familiarizing yourself with the slope of his neck, the definition of his forearms, his dainty hands. There’s no mistaking them, adorned today with several silver rings that catch the dim fluorescent light as he grabs more of his clothes from the washer.

The desperate need to turn around and run rises up in your chest, just as before, but this time you steel yourself. You can’t keep running away forever— particularly not when you pulled on your last clean pair of underwear this morning.

A rush of heat floods your face at the thought of the many pairs of underwear in your bag that will soon be sent spinning around this washing machine, where Jimin could easily see, but then it occurs to you that you have seen his penis. Maybe the trade-off will put you on slightly more equal footing.

But you really don’t need to be thinking about Park Jimin’s penis in this laundromat right now.

Shaking your head slightly to try and banish the thought, you set about your laundry routine, trying not to drop any unmentionables on the floor when you dump the contents of your tote into the washer. You dig quarters out of your bag and slot them into the machine, then press the button to start the cycle.

With a final exhale to steady yourself, you turn to look over your shoulder again, only to find Jimin leaning up against the empty dryer next to his, unabashedly watching you with a small smile on his face.

It occurs to you now that you couldn’t have put less effort into your appearance if you tried, and you’re suddenly hyper-aware of every random stain on your sweatpants and your extremely fashionable socks and slides combination. Jimin’s just in a white t-shirt and a pair of distressed jeans today, but literally everything looks fresh off the runway on him. You suppress the urge to walk out the door and go lay down in traffic, and instead take Namjoon’s advice: you smile back and even lift your hand in a shy wave.

You drop into an empty chair across from your machine and watch as Jimin starts to cross the room to join you, his eyes never leaving yours. Before he can make it, you suddenly become aware of someone else sliding into the seat beside you.

“You didn’t tell me she was cute, Jimin-ah!”

Eyes wide, you turn to see Jimin’s friend sprawled out next to you, one arm draped lazily over the back of your chair. His wavy dark hair peeks out from under a lime green beanie, and he’s swimming in an oversized long sleeve tucked into baggy pants, cinched tight at the waist with a Gucci belt.

“Jung Hoseok,” he gives you a nod. “Friends call me Hobi. You can call me whatever you like.” The way his wide smile pulls his mouth heart-shaped makes you giggle a little, slightly dazed by whatever the fuck is happening right now.

You hear Jimin sigh as he takes the open seat on your other side. “Please ignore Hoseok’s tendency to come on way too strong. If it makes you feel any better, he’s as gay as they come.”

Hoseok flicks his wrist just so. “Guilty as charged.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” you say with a shrug, your gaze flitting from Jimin to Hoseok and back again. “I have two gay roommates, so.”

Hoseok hums, clearly interested. “Gay together or gay separately?”

“Gay together.”

He narrows his eyes. “Open to a third?”

You can’t help but laugh at the unexpected question. “Uh, I’d have to ask.”

He looks like he’s going to say more, but Jimin interjects. “Hoseok— can we get a minute?”

Hoseok’s lips pull together, fish-like, and he nods as he gets to his feet. “Say no more. I’ll just, uh…” He fumbles, looking around for something to do, then crosses the room to take the open seat next to the sad pile of magazines. “…do a little light reading.” He picks up one at the top of the stack, holding it up for you both to witness. “Oh look, the queen died!”

You bite down on your bottom lip to suppress another laugh, but Jimin’s face is surprisingly serious when you look back at him. “I just want to say one thing,” he murmurs, voice low, “and then I’ll leave you alone.”

Nerves settle in the pit of your stomach like a heavy weight. “Jimin,” you start, and when he opens his mouth to keep talking, you blurt out the first thing you can think of.

“I’m sorry,” you say in unison, and there’s a beat where you both blink, equally taken aback by the other’s apology. It’s quiet apart from the rumble of the laundry machines and the distinct sound of Hoseok smacking the magazine over his mouth, clearly more invested in your plot line.

You break the silence first. “Wait, why are you sorry?”

Jimin’s eyes drop down to the floor, one black boot toeing nervously at the tile. “I figured you were upset with me because I didn’t warn you.”

Your eyes widen in surprise when you play your initial conversation back. “Oh my god— when I said graduate studio art, you… you knew.”

He nods, somewhat remorseful. “I was kind of hoping that maybe it would be a different class, but. Yeah. I figured. I’m really sorry, I should’ve—”

“No, no,” you interrupt. “I get it. I’m not mad, obviously I didn’t even put it together until right now.” You pause for a second and can’t help but smile a little. “And, I mean, how do you just casually work that into your first conversation with someone? ‘Great talking to you, ready to see my dick in five minutes?’”

Jimin’s head tips back when he laughs, his cheeks flushing a faint shade of pink. “Right.”

You can feel your own face grow hot as you realize what you’ve just said. “God, sorry, I didn’t mean to— clearly I don’t know how to handle this. That’s why I wanted to apologize, for avoiding you and being weird.” You twist your hands uncomfortably in your lap. “I’ve just never been in this situation before, and I wasn’t sure if you’d still want to talk given… the…” Every cell in your body screams at you not to say the word ‘dick’ again. “Yeah. I thought it might be easier to keep my distance. Keep it separate.”

Jimin’s eyes drift back up to find yours, and his casual beauty is so stunning, it’s enough to knock the air out of your lungs. He shrugs softly. “I mean, maybe it would be. But I don’t want to.”

“Great,” you manage a laugh, still breathless. “Because I nearly died on a Citibike the day I didn’t take the subway.”

He laughs, too. “Not gonna lie, I missed seeing you on the train.” You’re not expecting it when he extends a hand out. “Friends?”

You realize belatedly that he’s offering a handshake, and you gently take his hand in yours. His skin is soft and warm, a contrast to the cool metal of his rings that press into your palm as he squeezes.

“Friends,” you echo with a smile, squeezing back.

There’s a sudden thump and a cackle as Hoseok falls out of his chair with a peal of laughter. “You are so fucking weird, Jimin-ah!” he gasps from his spot on the floor. “Who shakes hands?!”

The two of them keep you more than entertained until the buzzers on their dryers sound a second apart from each other. You learn that Hoseok and Jimin are roommates, that they met as dance majors in their undergrad program, and that Hoseok now works as an adjunct instructor and freelance choreographer.

“Because some of us decided we wanted to actually make money instead of digging ourselves further into debt,” he explains with a sly grin and smack delivered to the back of Jimin’s head.

You watch as they meticulously fold, Hoseok regularly leaning over to redo Jimin’s work and chide him about wrinkles, and then they stack the clean laundry back into their bags and head for the exit.

“Bye, new friend!” Hoseok calls as he maneuvers the door open with his foot, and Jimin pauses at the threshold, the bell overhead tinkling gently.

“So… guess I’ll see you on the train?” he asks, like he’s still a little unsure, and your heartbeat flutters.

“Guess so.”

“Cool.” He gives you one last soft smile before he disappears after Hoseok. The bell sounds again when the door shuts behind him, as if to snap you back to reality.

The floating feeling in your stomach doesn’t quite dissipate even long after Jimin has left the laundromat. While you wait on your clothes, you flip to a blank page in your sketchbook and start on something new: the outline of a hand extended in mid-air, rings glinting like an offered promise.

~*~

The next week, Jimin is waiting for you on your morning subway ride, the dance bag that he usually keeps tucked between his legs set on the bench next to him. When he sees you step through the train doors at 51st, you watch him reach over to swing the bag down to its rightful place on the floor, freeing up the space. An open invitation.

You can’t help but feel a little shy as you sink down next to him and murmur your thanks. There’s something about being this close to him that just makes your mind go blank, puts you at a loss for words entirely.

To your surprise, he doesn’t try to strike up conversation either. Instead he plucks one fancy bluetooth earbud out of his ear, gives it a diplomatic swipe across the fabric of his joggers, then holds it up, pinched between his fingers in front of you.

Another invitation, you realize dumbly.

The corner of your mouth turns up as you pluck the bud out of his hand and press it into your own ear. The music that must have paused itself upon the earbud’s removal resumes, and your smile grows when Jimin quickly unlocks his phone to restart the song from the beginning.

An acoustic guitar and a light, pretty voice fill your ear, underscored by a gentle yet driving beat, not unlike the rumble of the train beneath your feet. It’s like the rest of the world fades away to nothing as you stare down at his sneakers next to your shoes, hyper-aware of the mere inch or two of space between you in this moment.

As if to prove your point, the train comes to a sharp stop, enough to make you slide a little on the bench and then you’re suddenly not just close but touching, all the way down, an unbroken line from shoulder to hip to knee.

When you look over in surprise, Jimin is already looking back at you. You swear you can feel warmth radiating out from him at every point where your bodies press together.

After another dazed moment, you come to your senses enough to scoot over, breaking the contact with an embarrassed laugh as you feel your face grow hot.

Your gaze drifts back down to the floor, only to snap up again at another brush of contact, this one not initiated by you or by the motion of the train. Instead, you realize Jimin has spread his legs an inch wider to purposefully touch his knee to yours again and leave it there. You blink softly as you look over at him, but he’s staring firmly out the window of the subway car now, smiling with just his eyes.

For the rest of the ride, you think of little else but Jimin’s knee pressed against yours and the pretty pink flush in his cheeks.

You stay in comfortable silence, music floating in your ears as you exit the train at Astor Place together, until you reach the studio, where you finally return the borrowed earbud. He smiles as he tucks them both back into the case, then pushes open the door and gestures for you to enter first.

Jimin shoots you a final look before your paths diverge, and you sink into your seat with a small, dreamy sigh. Your bliss is short-lived when you hear Taehyung’s voice over your shoulder.

“That was fast.”

You whip around to shoot him a look. “What was fast?”

He makes a face, like it’s obvious. “You’re already banging the model and it’s been, what, two weeks?”

Taehyung’s just close enough that you can lean forward and smack him on the arm, and he hisses in a way that has to be an exaggeration. Thankfully he seems to take the hint, and manages to actually keep his mouth shut as the professor commands everyone’s attention at the center of the room.

When Jimin emerges in the usual black satin, you try to keep your composure, but you can’t ignore the chill that dots up your spine when he lets the fabric fall to the floor.

Nevertheless, you sink into the routine of class, the thrill of Jimin’s naked body now equal parts familiar and exhilarating. The only difference is that today, when you’re dismissed, you make no effort to quickly pack up. You instead purposefully take your time, adding a few extra details to your last sketch before you finally start putting things away. Your gaze flickers up distractedly to see Jimin pulling his dressing gown back over his body as he moves to close the distance between you.

“Hi,” he says simply when he reaches your easel, and you smile.

“Hi.”

“Sorry, is, uh— is it okay that I talk to you, when I’m—” He gestures vaguely to his lower half with one hand, using the other to keep himself covered.

You swallow hard at the thin layer of fabric and everything you know lies beneath it. “Yeah, it’s okay,” you say, hating how breathless you sound.

“When are you done with classes today?”

It takes an extra second for you to remember your own schedule. “Uh, six.”

Jimin fidgets with the satin material in his hands, clearly a little uncomfortable. Or maybe nervous. “Would you… want to get dinner after? With me?”

Your stomach flutters as you nod. “Yeah, yes. I’d like that.”

~*~

When you emerge from your last class, you find Jimin waiting for you on Astor Place, and you’re not expecting it when he greets you with a single question: “Do you like sushi?” You answer affirmatively, and he nods over his shoulder. “Then let’s walk this way.”

You end up tucked into two seats at a place you’ve never been to before, where rolls and other plates of food zip past you on a steadily moving conveyor belt. Jimin shows you how to pop the plates out from their protective domes, and you gather a small feast of options on the table between you to share.

“So,” you start with a nervous smile, chopsticks hovering in midair. “Can I ask the obvious question?”

He quirks an eyebrow, intrigued. “What’s that?”

“What made you decide to nude model?” The words alone send fresh waves of heat and nerves through you, sparkling in your chest. “Or have you done it before?”

“I haven’t,” Jimin confirms with a shake of his head, then he pops a piece of sushi in his mouth as if to buy himself time. He chews, bringing a hand up as he speaks with his mouth still half-full. “Do you want the real answer?”

You nod, and his adam’s apple jerks as he swallows. There’s a look on his face like he isn’t quite sure what to say, and then he exhales a weighty sigh. “I’ve struggled with my body for a really long time. Especially in undergrad.”

Your eyes widen slightly— you weren’t expecting such a serious response.

“Dance doesn’t typically have the best culture for that to begin with,” he continues, “and I’d spend literally all day staring at myself in a mirror, so I would just… pick myself apart. Always convinced I wasn’t good enough, that I needed to lose more weight, always.”

The thought of it makes your heart ache, but you let him talk.

“I’m through the worst of it now, so please don’t feel like you need to be worried. But I have some friends who’ve done this kind of thing before and it seemed like, I don’t know, a good challenge?” His brow creases, contemplative. “I really love art, so I thought maybe if I did it, I might be able to see my body in a new way, through the eyes of other people. Of artists.” He pauses, then nods, like he’s said his piece.

It takes you a second to respond. “That’s… beautiful, Jimin.”

He looks down, clearly a little uncomfortable. “Sorry if that was too heavy.”

“I can take it,” you say softly, and it’s enough to make him glance back up in surprise. “Thank you for telling me.”

A faint color floods his face. “Thanks for listening.”

You eat in a silence that’s oddly comfortable, and when you both reach for the same piece of sushi and end up knocking chopsticks together, he lets you have it, picking up the thread of conversation again as he smiles. “What got you into art?”

You make a face, chased by an unsure shrug. “Is it bad if I say it’s the only thing I feel like I’m good at?”

Jimin laughs a little. “I don’t know that I believe you.”

“I mean,” you lean back in your seat. “Maybe not the only thing, but I’ve just never been able to see myself doing anything else. I’m not cut out for the corporate life, as much as my parents wish I was. Art’s always been the thing that I go to in my free time. When I’m feeling so much that it’s overwhelming, or so numb that it’s like I can’t feel anything, the act of creating something just… brings me back to center again.” You worry your bottom lip between your teeth. “It’s an outlet, I guess.”

“Well, if it helps, you’re very good at it.”

“Thanks,” you say with a small smile. “But it’s not even about being good, at least not to me. Maybe it sounds weird, but I don’t really have any interest in being the best. It’s art, so it’s all subjective anyway. I just wanna make stuff.”

Jimin smirks as he adds another empty plate to the growing stack in front of you, tongue poking briefly at the inside of his cheek before he speaks. “I could stand to be more like you.”

“Your turn,” you shoot back. “Why dance?”

At this, he actually brings a hand up to cover his face, and his voice is muffled under his palm when he responds. “I can tell you exactly why, but it’s embarrassing.”

You shift a little in your chair to get a better look at him. “Don’t be embarrassed! It’s not like I—” you cut yourself off before you can very obviously finish the sentence with ‘haven’t seen your dick’, and you shove a piece of sushi in your mouth to shut yourself up, so fast you nearly choke.

Jimin laughs loudly into his hands, and then you’re laughing too, dropping your head down on the table to try and chew your food without asphyxiating.

“Okay, okay,” he gasps when he can finally manage to take a breath in. “I’ll tell you.”

He sets his chopsticks down, overly serious. “When I was little, I was obsessed with Titanic. Specifically the scene where they dance together, and Rose rises up on her toes in front of everyone.” There are practically stars in his eyes as he recounts the moment, and you can’t bear to cut him off. “I just thought she was so beautiful, and I wanted to be like that. Almost broke my toes trying to go en pointe barefoot like an idiot.”

You’re silent for a moment, and there’s a flicker of panic in Jimin’s face, like he’s worried he overshared. “I have to be honest,” you say softly. “I’ve never seen Titanic.”

His eyes nearly pop out of his head. “What?!”

Already expecting the reaction, you grimace and nod. “I know, I know. Everyone gets mad at me for it. Go ahead.”

Jimin’s eyes flit from your face to the remaining piece of sushi on the plate between you, then back again. “I mean, we can go solve this problem right now, if you want.” He pauses, then admits with a giggle, “I have it on DVD.”

You shrug, trying to act casual despite the way your pulse has started to quicken. “They canceled my morning seminar for tomorrow, so I’m down.”

He leans forward to steal the last piece of sushi with a smug smile. “Then let’s get out of here.”

It’s a short train ride back to Jimin’s place, and you make it in the front door just in time to see Hoseok slipping out of what looks to be his bedroom. You barely process him as the same person— tonight his dark hair is swept off his forehead, and he’s in nice dress pants and a white button-down, unbuttoned just enough to display the delicate spread of his collarbone.

“Hi kids!” he calls in greeting, and you wave back as you kick your shoes off.

Hoseok crosses to grab a mirrored pair of aviators and his keys off the table by the front door. “Daddy’s going out. You two have fun, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He pauses for a moment, like he’s waiting for a joke to land, then cracks a grin. “By which I obviously mean do whatever the fuck you want.”

As Hoseok pulls the door shut behind him, you follow Jimin into the living room, where you perch nervously on the edge of the couch while he disappears into the kitchen. “Do you like prosecco?” he asks, raising his voice slightly to be heard.

“Uh, I think so,” you say unsurely. “I don’t think I ever developed enough of a palette to have wine preferences.”

“White and sparkling?”

“Sounds good,” you respond, and then you hear the distinct noise of a cork popping before he returns with a bottle and two glasses in hand. He sets everything on the coffee table as he takes a seat next to you, then leans forward to fill both glasses nearly to the brim.

Jimin’s face flushes when you giggle softly at the pour. “Sorry— I like to drink. You don’t have to finish it all.” You shrug and take a healthy pull from your glass. It’s crisp and light, with little bubbles that fizz and pop all the way down. 

“Hoseok calls me a lush,” he admits with a shy laugh as he picks up his own drink and turns to face you, sitting back against the arm of the couch. You shift to mirror him, curling your socked feet up under you. He takes a sip, then seems to think better of it, leaning forward to set his glass down on the table again. “I did want to tell you something. A couple of things, I guess.”

The sentence makes your stomach twist, and you try your best to ignore it. “What’s up?”

Jimin’s lips press together for a moment, as if he’s trying to figure out how to word whatever he’s about to say. “I’m not, like, trying to be presumptuous by telling you this but I just— I don’t want it to go unsaid and then come up later and be a whole big thing, so. I just want you to know that Hoseok is my ex.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but certainly not that.

“We dated freshman year of undergrad, for… maybe three months? It was the kind of thing where I knew I was bi in high school but was too scared to act on it, so when I moved to New York I just, like, dated the first gay person I met? Which was probably a little shitty of me. We quickly realized we work much better as friends, and it was a very mutual thing. No hard feelings.”

You nod slowly, trying to keep up. “And you’ve lived together since then?”

“No, no,” Jimin replies quickly, and he nearly grimaces as he continues. “At the end of last semester, I, uh… I got out of a pretty bad long-term relationship.” The way he says it makes your heart sink a little. “And she and I lived together, so Hoseok was extremely gracious and offered to take me in.”

He reaches for his glass of wine again, then pauses with it halfway to his mouth. “Ideally the number of exes I’d be living with would be zero, but. You know. This is definitely the better option, at least until I can figure out what comes next.”

A pause settles between you while he takes a long drink and you try to process all this new information. “I’m sorry about the breakup,” you say softly, and he shakes his head as he swallows.

“Don’t be. It was a very good thing. Long overdue.”

“Well,” you correct yourself, the corners of your mouth pulling up. “Then I’m sorry that it took so long.”

At this, he smiles back. “Me fuckin’ too.”

After one more sip, Jimin sets his wine back down on the coffee table, then rolls off the couch— surprisingly graceful— to retrieve Titanic from the small collection of movies lined up on the shelf beneath the TV.

“Ready?”

“This better have a happy ending,” you murmur over the edge of your wine glass. Jimin laughs so hard he nearly tips over.

He settles next to you again as the movie starts, painted pretty in the blue glow of the TV, and you try your best to watch the movie, but it’s hard to keep your eyes off him. Partway through you notice him grab a pillow off the back of the couch and hug both of his arms around it, curling up small.

Cute, you can’t help but think to yourself, and you can feel heat settle in your face as you try to refocus on the story.

When you reach the dancing scene Jimin sits up a little, lips parting slightly, that same starry look in his eyes as when he explained it initially. The mental image of a younger version of him equally enraptured by the moment nearly makes your chest cave in.

The movie goes on, and you’re draining the last of your second glass of wine when out of the corner of your eye, you see Jimin’s eyes go wide. Jack and Rose are closely examining a rare diamond necklace, and you don’t understand what he could be reacting to until Kate Winslet delivers her next line.

“Jack, I want you to draw me like one of your French girls.”

Your eyes go just as wide as Jimin’s, and you let out a laugh of disbelief that’s nearly a scream. “Oh my fucking god, Park Jimin! You did this on purpose!”

“I swear, I didn’t! I didn’t even think about that part until right now!” He shakes his head desperately as he gasps for air, and he doubles over with his own laughter, rolling right off the couch, arms still clutched tightly around his pillow.

“I literally cannot believe this.” You dissolve into giggles as you sink to your knees on the floor beside him, close to tears.

It takes time for you both to recover, but Jimin eventually manages to pull himself back up to sitting, shoulders still shaking slightly with laughter. He lets the pillow drop to the floor and presses both of his palms down into it as he leans towards you. “But hey, maybe that’s why I like you.”

He’s so magnetic, so beautiful, you can’t help but lean in, too. “You like me?”

There’s a warm glow of color in his cheeks, and you’re not sure if you can blame it entirely on the wine. “I do.”

Your lingering smile slowly starts to soften, and now your heart feels like it might pound out of your chest. “So what, you’re Rose and I’m Jack?”

His gaze drops to your mouth, his voice barely more than a whisper as he murmurs, “Uh-huh”. Imaginary violins swell in your head as you surge forward to close the distance and press your lips to his.

Jimin’s lips are soft and warm, and your head spins as you sit up on your knees and lean into the kiss. While his mouth moves gently against yours, his palms press to the small of your back, and the heat of his hands radiates through the thin fabric of your shirt. You wrap your arms over his shoulders, partially for balance and partially in an attempt to pull him closer to you.

He tilts his head, and you whimper against him when you feel his tongue trace delicately over your bottom lip. He returns a breathy noise back as he licks slowly into your mouth, like he’s taking his time, like he’s not in any rush.

Even though you can feel your arousal starting to build, heavy in your gut and slick between your thighs, you realize: you want him to take his time with you.

You’re surprised at the loss when he suddenly leans back, just enough to break the kiss, still keeping you held close. “Is it, um—” he clears his throat, then tries again. “I don’t… want to go any further. Than this. At least not tonight. Is that okay?”

Your eyes search his, and you’re a little breathless when you manage to get the words out. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. I’m good with that. With whatever you want.”

“Okay.” You exhale a laugh when he reaches over to find the remote on the coffee table and pause the movie. “I want to keep kissing you, if that’s alright.”

“Yes, please,” you murmur against his lips.

Jimin shifts a little, and you follow his lead, letting him tip you backwards onto the floor, your arms still looped around his neck, one hand now tangling in his honey blonde hair. He drops a forearm down to the carpet beside you, his other hand coming to rest at the curve of your waist, knees bracketing your hips as he covers your body with his.

He alternates between sucking on your lower lip and gentle passes of his tongue into your mouth, the hand on your waist tracing a lazy path down to your hip and back up again. Something pulled tight inside you starts to slowly unwind, blooming open as you sink into the rhythm, into him.

It’s been such a long time since you’ve just kissed someone like this, without it feeling like part of a race to get naked. And you’ve never been kissed like this in your life— so soft, so attentive. It’s enough to make you dizzy, even with your back pressed flat to the floor.

You lose track of how much time passes as you trade open-mouthed kisses on Jimin’s living room carpet, until he finally pulls away again. Still in a daze, you shift the hand in his hair to gently cup his face, not quite able to believe that he’s really real.

“God,” Jimin breathes, laughing quietly to himself. “I really like you.”

You smile as you blink up at him. “I like you too, Jimin.” 

Rolling over, he drops down onto the floor next to you with a blissed-out sigh. He stretches his arms overhead, spine arching like a cat, then lifts up again to glance back at you. “Do you want more wine? ‘Cause we’re only like halfway done. This movie is stupid long.”

“I could go for more,” you answer with a shrug, still smiling.

In one swift move, Jimin flips his legs over his head and effortlessly somersaults up to standing, and your eyes go wide. “How do you fucking do that?!”

“I’m a trained professional!” he calls over his shoulder as he sashays into the kitchen. You giggle a little. “I would break every bone in my body.”

He’s humming prettily to himself, and you hear the sound of the fridge opening and closing, followed by the pop of another bottle being uncorked. You pull yourself back onto the couch as he rejoins you and pours fresh wine into both glasses, and a sudden curiosity urges you to ask a question. “Is Titanic your favorite movie?”

Jimin shakes his head, but says nothing, and the strange hesitant expression that flashes over his face just makes you that much more intrigued.

“Let’s hear it.”

His eyes flit over to you, then back to the wine glasses. “You’ll laugh.”

“I won’t!” you exclaim, lifting a hand when he scrunches up his nose, doubtful. “Promise.”

With a reluctant sigh, Jimin sets the bottle back down on the table, staring straight ahead as he admits, “It’s The Notebook.”

You press your lips together, trying desperately to keep your mouth in a straight line. At least you manage not to laugh. “I— wow. Really?”

He nods like the reaction is expected, picking up his wine glass and settling back against the couch cushions. “I don’t know, there’s just something about it. It’s comforting, to me.”

“You’re such a romantic,” you murmur, gently nudging his thigh with your foot until you coax a smile out of him.

“You know what?” Jimin’s voice is thoughtful now, more self-assured. “I am.” He takes a sip of his drink before he continues. “For a long time I didn’t want to be. Or thought that I couldn’t be. I used to always try to be so. I don’t know. Masculine, I guess. I think some of it had to do with denying my sexuality, but even once I got around to accepting that, there was still this part of me that would just never allow myself to be… soft.”

His gaze drops down to the wine in his glass, and you sit up, tucking your legs underneath you to scoot closer to him until you’re side by side. “I like you soft,” you say simply, and he looks over at you, still smiling.

“If we watch The Notebook I will cry.”

“That’s okay.” You lean into him to seek a kiss, made sweet from the wine. He hums a little against your lips before you pull back. “Same time next week?”

~*~

Just like that, you fall into a regular routine with Jimin: sharing his headphones on the morning train, sketching out the shape of his body in studio, then picking up takeout and wine to bring back to his place and split over a movie. As predicted, The Notebook does make him cry, and when you show him Kimi no Na wa the week after, hot tears stream down your face at the final scene, the way they always do.

He takes your head in his hands as the credits roll, his thumbs swiping at errant tears on your cheeks. You chase a sniffle with an embarrassed laugh. “Okay. We’re even now.”

On your fourth movie night, partway into Moulin Rouge, something emboldens you when you see Jimin reach for his usual couch pillow. You lean over and gently pry it out of his grip, then shift to tuck yourself into his side and curl your legs up in his lap instead.

“Better?”

“Mm-hmm”, he murmurs as he ducks down to nuzzle against your cheek. “You’re warm.”

These nights end the same way each time: you ride the train home with a wine-soaked buzz in your brain and flushed, kiss-bitten lips, your fingertips brushing over your own mouth at the memory of his.

Once a week quickly turns into more. The two of you coordinate laundromat afternoons where you listen to music together as you wait for your clothes. You usually end up drawing to pass the time, and sometimes Jimin dozes off, head tipping over onto your shoulder so gently that you can’t help but smile down at your sketchbook.

At his request, you help him dye his hair pink in his tiny apartment bathroom, and it somehow suits him just as well as honey blonde. You both get dizzy from laughter and cleaning product fumes as you desperately try to scrub the bubblegum stains out of the tile before Hoseok comes home.

When you finally introduce Jimin to your roommates, the four of you crammed all-too formally around the kitchen table over Yoongi’s cooking, the interaction feels like a cross between a job interview and a prom date meeting your parents. You choke on a piece of chicken that you nearly inhale when Namjoon offhandedly refers to Jimin as Subway Boy, and Yoongi smiles wide enough to show his gums as he gladly recounts your months-long crush in great detail while you bury your burning face in your arms.

But Jimin takes it in stride, laughs into your mouth as he kisses you over the sink while the two of you wash the dishes.

“Subway Boy, huh?”

“I will drown you,” you murmur as you pull away, brandishing the spray hose like a threat.

It’s easy and slow. This blossoming something, a nameless but undeniable spark, the calm comfort of Jimin’s arms wrapped around your waist, his fingers intertwined with yours, his head dropped down on your shoulder.

~*~

You dig your phone out of your pocket as you shoulder open the door to the dance building, pulling up the text from Jimin to double-check his practice room number. A train delay made you slightly later than your agreed-upon time, but you know the takeout bag of Indian food dangling over your wrist will easily earn you his forgiveness.

It doesn’t surprise you that he’s the only one left in the room when you find it, nor that he’s still reviewing the choreography with an expression of severe focus. You hover in the doorway, waiting for him to look up, but he’s entirely concentrated on his own reflection in the mirror.

His movements alternate between delicate and powerful, explosive and restrained, and you have to hold in an outright gasp when he launches his body into an aerial and lands it effortlessly. But then his feet falter in a split second of hesitation, and you can see his expression tighten, clearly frustrated.

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself as he rubs a hand over his face, and he doesn’t even try to keep going with the rest of the dance. You take the opportunity to step a few more paces into the room, and his eyes jump to you in the mirror.

“Hi,” you say softly, suddenly a little nervous to be intruding on the moment. The corner of Jimin’s mouth turns up, but his eyes seem far away, and you can tell he’s still raging at himself in his mind.

“Hi, sorry,” he sighs. “I just— can’t get this. It’s like my body isn’t doing what I tell it to.”

“You need food.” You try to say it gently as you cross the room, holding up the smiley-face adorned plastic takeout bag. “And perhaps the enigmatic charm of Rachel McAdams.”

This seems to shake him out of his thoughts, at least a little. “I do like her.” He steps close enough to slip his arms around your waist and pull your body flush against his. Sweat glistens on his collarbone in the dim practice room lighting. “But I like you more.”

You roll your eyes as you playfully smack a hand against his solid chest. “Stop lying.”

“‘M not,” he insists as he presses a kiss to the hinge of your jaw. “Rachel McAdams has never once brought me masala dosa.” You giggle despite yourself, and when his lips drop down to your neck, it’s enough to make your breath hitch.

A spark ignites in your chest that doesn’t go out, not on the subway ride back to your apartment, not through dinner and a movie, and certainly not once you’re most of the way through the second bottle of wine. As the credits start to roll, you waste no time, turning in Jimin’s lap so you can properly straddle him and take his face in your hands.

You trade decadent, easy kisses, and Jimin’s hands settle at the small of your back, his thumbs massaging gentle circles into your hips. A shiver rolls up your spine when he shifts a little and you realize you can feel a growing bulge through the fabric of his joggers, pressed firm against your thigh. He breathes a soft sound into your mouth as his tongue slides over yours, and you’re so overwhelmed, you barely register the sound of keys in the lock or the front door opening.

It’s Jimin who reacts first, turning his head to break the kiss as his cheeks flood with color, and you glance over your shoulder just in time to see Yoongi storm past, heading for his room. He lifts a hand up to his face to shield you from view as he goes.

“Don’t stop on my account!” Yoongi’s voice is dripping with derision. “By all means, continue fucking on our shared furniture!”

“We’re fully clothed, asshole!” you snap in response as Yoongi slams the bedroom door behind him, hard enough that it rattles in the frame.

When you look back down at Jimin, his face is twisted in an expression you take to be embarrassment. You drop your head down on his shoulder with a frustrated groan, the moment successfully killed.

“Do you…” you pause, turning your head to the side but continuing to ask your question into the fabric of his shirt. “We could go to my room, for more privacy, if you want?”

He hums his agreement, and when you peel yourself off the couch and head for your room, he follows. You spin back around to face him in the doorway, so fast he nearly knocks into you.

You brace your hands on the doorframe as you survey him. “We really don’t have to… do anything, if you don’t want to. We can just talk.”

Jimin nods, and you step aside to let him enter first, pulling the door closed behind you as you follow. He takes a few tentative steps into the room, and you walk past him to drop down onto the floor next to your bed, then pat the carpet to encourage him to join. There’s a flash of something over his face, and then he sinks down beside you. It’s only now that you realize how quiet he’s gotten.

“What is it?” you ask, suddenly a little nervous.

He stares down at the soles of his feet, pressed into each other, his knees tipped open like butterfly wings. “Does it make you feel bad? That we’re not—”

“No,” you answer immediately, and the honesty of it resonates in your chest.

“I know we’ve been hanging out for a while,” he continues, voice low. “And I do want to, you know. Hook up.”

“Jimin,” you lean forward to place both of your hands over one of his, settled atop his knee. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. When you want to, I want to. But I like everything we’ve been doing, too. It’s not like we’re not… intimate.”

His gaze flits up from the floor to meet yours. “I don’t want you to think that I don’t want you.”

You close your fingers around his hand, pulling it off his leg and up to your face so you can brush your lips over his palm.

“I don’t think that at all,” you murmur against his skin. “Promise.”

There’s a hint of a smile in his eyes when you look back up at him. “Okay. Sorry, I know it’s stupid. Like why do I need reassurance from you when I’m the one being difficult?”

You press your cheek into the warmth of his hand, toying lazily with the rings on his fingers. “Why are you so convinced that you’re difficult?”

Jimin huffs a small sigh. “This conversation has not gone this well in the past.” His eyes drop to the floor again, and after a moment’s pause, he keeps talking.

“My ex and I struggled a lot with…” he shakes his head, as if he’s trying not to say ‘everything’. “Sex. With me wanting it, with us having enough of it. I think it gave me a complex. I could be physically, you know, ready, but then as soon as she’d touch me I’d get in my head about everything and freak out and immediately want to stop.” He pauses, worrying at his bottom lip.

You pull his hand into your lap, your fingers delicately tracing over his in an attempt to provide some comfort. He shrugs when he starts to speak again. “And then, I don’t know, I guess she was just trying to share her side, but... she would make me feel so bad about it sometimes. Because I was genuinely trying so hard but it was like I was never good enough.” Another pause, and this time he sniffs a little. When his eyes roll up to stare at the ceiling, you can see he’s holding back tears. “It felt like she didn’t want me anymore, not if there wasn’t sex. So I left.”

“Jimin,” you breathe, and he flashes you a small grimace, clearly embarrassed by his own dramatics. With a grunt of effort, he turns sideways and flops backwards onto the floor of your room, and you scoot closer to him, your hand still playing with his.

His gaze roams over the ceiling as he sighs. “I don’t want you to think I was this perfect person and she was some awful bitch. She loved me a lot, and I’m sure she was struggling with not feeling wanted either, in her own way.”

Your voice is soft when you interject. “Two people can just be… incompatible. It doesn’t mean either of them is a bad person, or that it’s anyone’s fault. Sometimes things just don’t work, no matter how hard you try.”

Jimin’s mouth pulls up on one side as he shakes his head, eyes squinting. “How did you get to be so smart?”

You can’t help but laugh a little, lacing your fingers together with his in your lap. “Years of making terrible decisions.” You give his hand a gentle squeeze before you ask a question. “Did you struggle with this before, or just with her?”

His mouth twists slightly, unsure. “Yes and no? Both? My desire has always… fluctuated, I guess. Been a little shy.” A smile spreads over his face, and he hums a note. “Like, you know how people say love at first sight isn’t a thing? That it’s just lust?” You nod, prompting him to continue. “I think, at least for me, it’s the opposite. I can fall for somebody, and fall hard, like that.” He snaps loudly with his free hand. “But lust… I don’t know, it takes longer. It’s like a slow burn thing.”

You nod again, processing his words for a moment before you respond. “Well, I’m in no rush.”

Jimin sits up, voice thoughtful as he untangles his hand from yours, and it’s clear he’s getting more comfortable opening up to you. “Right after the breakup, I did a lot of research. I found this term, demisexual, that felt pretty accurate.” He shrugs. “But I don’t know. I mostly just think that... I am who I am. And the people who get it will get it. Like you.”

Before you can even speak, he sweeps an arm under your calves to drag you into his lap in one swift move, and you squeak a little in surprise as your world tilts.

“Demisexual. I like it,” you giggle as he guides your legs to wrap around his middle. His hands slide up your thighs, grabbing at your hips to tug you closer so he can trail kisses along your neck.

“Biromantic demisexual, technically,” he murmurs, head tipping up to find your mouth again.

You drape your arms over his shoulders and hum against his lips as he kisses you. “It suits you.”

Another soft noise escapes you when Jimin manages to maneuver to standing with you still in his arms. You tighten your grip on his shoulders and your legs around his waist, and his hands shift down to your ass to firmly hold you up. You squeeze your eyes shut automatically in fear of being dropped, then flutter them open again when you feel your back press into the soft cushion of your bedspread.

Jimin is hovering over you, forearms dropped down to the bed on either side of you. His eyes search yours for a moment, and then he leans in to kiss you again, so fiercely this time that it leaves you breathless. You can’t help but whimper as his tongue slips into your mouth.

When he finally pulls away, he presses his forehead to your collarbone with a groan. “It’s late,” he murmurs, breath ghosting over your neck. “I should go.”

You nod responsibly, despite how desperately you want him to stay.

You walk him out, and his sweet parting kiss leaves your heart hammering in your chest, enough that you slump against the frame with a sigh once you shut the door, your knees suddenly weak.

Light on your feet, you follow the faint noise of the TV to find Yoongi in the living room with Planet Earth on at a barely audible volume. He glances at you, his mouth a flat line, then reaches for the remote to turn the sound up a few notches. You drop down on the couch next to him, and it’s silent for a moment, save for the calm narration and the crinkling plastic of him tearing open a bag of Turtle Chips.

“How’d it go?” he finally asks, voice monotone.

“It’s good,” you answer softly. “We’re good.” You fold your legs up under yourself and sneak a look at Yoongi out of the corner of your eye. You’re still a little pissed, but you also want advice. Damn him for knowing everything.

“Have you heard the term ‘demisexual’ before?”

Yoongi nods, still chewing as he replies. “Yeah. Like asexual spectrum, right?”

You shrug. “I guess. It’s new to me.”

He shoves a few more chips in his mouth before he continues. “Is that what your Subway Boy is?”

“I think so, yeah.”

There’s a long pause while you watch penguins march across the screen, and you think that might be the end of it. Then Yoongi clears his throat. “You know, I’m somewhere in there too. Not completely asexual, but definitely not… not.”

Your eyes widen. “Really?”

Yoongi snorts. “Don’t act so shocked. These walls aren’t that thick.”

“Is Joon?”

He smirks, like you’ve just told a joke. “Decidedly not.”

“Oh.” You blink, trying to process. “How do you deal with it?”

Yoongi makes a face, like he’s never thought about it before. “We just communicate, I guess. Be respectful even when we don’t necessarily understand. And, like, Namjoon watches porn, and surprisingly reads quite a bit of erotica—”

“Okay, okay,” you cut him off. “I don’t need all the details.”

He huffs a dry laugh at your discomfort. “It’s not always easy, sometimes it’s frustrating for both of us. But we make it work. We love each other.”

You chew a little at the inside of your cheek, and then you can’t hold in the question any longer. “Is it weird that the idea doesn’t bother me? Jimin said it was a huge issue with his ex. Like, does that make me on the… spectrum?”

Yoongi shrugs. “I mean, you might be? But not necessarily? I don’t know, sex matters different amounts to everyone. Some people don’t mind not having it that often. You don’t have to put a label on it unless you want to, you know?”

“Yeah, makes sense.” You nod slowly as you digest the idea. “Thanks, Yoongi. I appreciate the education.”

His only answer at first is a noncommittal hum, and then he points a finger at the few inches of wine in the bottle you left sitting on the coffee table. “Gonna finish that?”

“It’s all yours,” you say. “Consider it atonement for going to first base on the couch.”

Yoongi grabs the bottle by the neck and immediately drains it. “Apology accepted,” he grunts as he sets it back down. “And I’m sorry I snapped at you.” He extends his bag of chips in your direction and you happily reach in for the biggest handful you can manage.

~*~

During your next movie night, Jimin can’t keep his hands to himself.

They pet up your thighs, your legs draped over his, then slide up to your hips, fingertips tracing patterns over the waistband of your leggings and toying at the hem of your shirt.

His mouth has a similar problem: he leans in to press kisses along the line of your jaw, then down the slope of your neck, sucking delicately at the spot that makes your nipples tighten and sends a shiver through you.

“You’re missing the movie,” you remark, raking a hand through his peachy-pink hair, shadowed at the roots where his natural color has started to grow in. He’s typically good about keeping himself restrained until the credits roll, but you’re barely halfway through Pride & Prejudice, haven’t even cracked a second bottle yet.

“Fuck the movie,” he growls against your skin, and you bite back a whimper when his teeth scrape over your neck. You can’t ignore the way your core is starting to ache from his insistent mouth.

His lips find yours again, and you giggle softly into him. “You’re in a mood.”

“Just been thinking about you,” he murmurs between kisses. It surprises you a little when he suddenly pulls back so he can look you in the eyes. “Should we— do you want to go to my room?”

The air hangs still and heavy between you, and you worry at your bottom lip for a moment. “Are you sure?” When he nods, dark brown eyes blinking up at you, your mouth turns up at the corner. “I’d rather we not traumatize any more roommates if we can help it.”

You lean over to pause the movie before sliding off his lap and getting to your feet, and then you reach your hands out for his and pull him up next to you. “Come on.”

Jimin’s bedroom is so perfectly him that it relaxes you, feather-soft comfort every time you step inside. His bed isn’t made, because it never is, the thick white duvet pushed down on one side where he stumbled out from beneath it this morning. He keeps it dark, blackout curtains drawn to support his night owl lifestyle, and the room is bathed in the warm glow of fairy lights he’s strung up along the ceiling. A myriad of posters and art prints and polaroids are taped to the walls, some beautiful, others sentimental— he even managed to coax you into tearing a few of his favorites out of your sketchbook. You still don’t think they’re anything special, but nevertheless, it makes your heart squeeze in your chest to see them on display with everything else. Like they belong here in this room, like you do too.

The door clicks as it shuts behind him, and then his mouth is on yours again, kissing you dizzy while he backs you up until your knees hit the edge of the bed. He guides you to lay down, and his hand slips beneath you to drag you up the bed with him as he crawls over you.

His hands come up to tug at your shirt. “Can I take this off?” he breathes.

You nod, staring up at him and not quite able to believe any of this is real. “You can do anything you want to me.” With a smile, he lifts the hem of your shirt, and you sit up a little so he can pull it the rest of the way off.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Jimin murmurs against your skin as he kisses down your neck, over your collarbones, then down between the valley of your breasts. His hands slip down to palm at your tits, squeezing gently, and he mouths at the stiff peaks of your nipples over the thin fabric of your bralette. You untangle briefly, only for as long as it takes to get the lacy thing off of you entirely and tossed over the edge of the bed.

You shiver a little as the air hits your bare skin, and then the warmth of his body covers you again, and he ducks down to close his mouth over your nipple and suck. The plush softness of his lips and the firm suction combined are enough to make your eyes roll back, and your spine arches up beneath him when he drags his tongue in a circle over the sensitive bud.

“Shit,” you groan. Your hands fist in the fabric of his shirt, and it feels like your only tether to reality.

It’s easy to believe it’s the waiting, the anticipation of this moment, that makes every little touch light you up like a live wire now. But something tells you it will always feel like this.

While his lips shift to your other breast, one hand slides down to cup your clothed pussy, rubbing gentle friction into your center. You circle your hips to press yourself against the flat of his palm, sighing at the brush of indirect contact and the heat that thrums through you from the pressure on your clit.

You feel Jimin’s weight shift on the mattress as he kneels next to you, and his lips find yours again at the same time his hand slips into your leggings, two fingers tracing the seam of your panties to make you whine softly. If he couldn’t tell before, he must be able to now: how wet you are, enough to drench the lacy fabric so it clings to your cunt, dripping arousal to show how badly you want him.

He’s surprisingly forceful when he tugs the damp fabric to the side, but so gentle again as he slips one finger and then a second into your tight heat. Your mouth drops open as he curls them up to rub at your g-spot, stroking into you over and over while your cunt squeezes tight around him.

Your head drops back on the pillow and you groan. “Oh, fuck, Jimin.”

You can hear how soaked your pussy is as he pumps into you, and the wet squelch of his fingers working inside you would make you shy if it didn’t feel so overwhelmingly perfect. The pleasure edges your breathing with soft sounds, and Jimin swallows them when he kisses you again.

He shifts slightly for a better angle and then you feel the heel of his palm grind down against your clit. It’s enough to make your hips buck up under him with every press of his hand, his insistent touch shooting sparks of arousal through you.

It’s been so long since anyone has touched you, and you’ve wanted this with him so badly for so long, but even still, it surprises you how quickly he can bring you to the edge.

“Jimin,” you break the kiss to gasp against his mouth, unable to believe how close you already are. Close enough that all you can do is cling, to any part of him you can reach: his hair, his shoulders, the fabric of his shirt. “Jimin, Jimin, fuck.”

“Look so fuckin’ good like this,” he groans, and he says the next part softer, like it’s just for him. “My girl looks so pretty on my fingers.”

The pace of his movements doesn’t falter, nor does the heavy weight of his palm as he ducks down to capture your nipple in his mouth again. Your pussy pulses around him, sucking him in to the last knuckle with each thrust of his hand, and your nails dig desperately into his forearm as you feel your orgasm crest.

His teeth graze lightly over the tight bud of your breast, and it’s enough. With a final whine, the arousal that’s been coiling inside you snaps, and your back arches up off the bed as you come hard on his fingers.

Jimin’s fingers keep stroking you through it, the flat of his palm rubbing rough circles against your clit again and again and again and it feels like you might never stop coming. You moan as it rolls over you, wave after wave, until his touch is so overwhelming that you have to pull your trembling thighs together, and he finally relents.

Spent, your body sinks heavy into the bed, and you can’t help the dazed giggle that flutters out as afterglow starts to bloom behind your ribs.

Jimin hovers over you, dropped down onto his forearms, full lips pressing indiscriminately to your flushed skin, all over. You snake a hand through his hair to pull his mouth up to yours, and he kisses you slow and deep.

When you break apart, you tip your forehead to his. “Can I touch you?” you ask, still a little breathless.

“Please,” he murmurs, lips brushing against yours again before he pulls away with a small, embarrassed smile. “My pants hurt.”

You sit up on your knees and he does too, and you bite down on your lip as you reach for the hem of his shirt. He helps you pull it over his head, and then there he is, beautiful as ever. Familiar, yet somehow all new.

Jimin shivers and whines when your hands run across the bare skin of his chest, teasing over his soft brown nipples before starting to trace a path down to his stomach. You lean in to kiss him, and he outright groans into your mouth when your fingertips tease along the band of his boxers that peeks out over his jeans. You gently bring your palms to his hips to guide him, and he’s pliant for you, shifting backwards at your suggestion until he’s seated, leaned back against the headboard.

Your hands shake slightly as you unbutton and push down his jeans, and you hear him exhale a ragged sigh of relief. He’s so hard, you can understand why the tight denim must have been painful: his dick is still straining even now, a thick outline pressed into the fabric of his underwear, and there’s a dark patch that clings to his tip where he’s started to leak precum.

You tug his boxers down with enough force that his length smacks heavy against his stomach, and he makes a strangled noise in response, eyes squeezing shut. His hips jerk violently beneath you, and your jaw goes slack as you watch his cock twitch, and keep twitching, until a steady pool of milky gloss has leaked out over his stomach.

“Shit,” Jimin hisses as he comes practically untouched, and he gasps for air to try to speak. “Fuck fuck fuck— ‘msorry, thought I could—”

You can see him starting to spiral, can feel the panic starting to heat up inside his body, so you take his face in both of your hands. “Jimin.”

“This has never happened before— fuck, I don’t— this is so—”

“Jimin.” When you say his name again, firmer this time, he goes quiet, his eyes still shut tight. “Look at me,” you murmur, and he does, lashes slow-blinking open. “It’s okay. Okay?” Your gaze searches his, trying to convince him. “I like everything about you. Everything you do. You’re perfect.”

Clearly trying to steady his breathing, his chest shudders with effort, and you gently circle your thumb at the hinge of his jaw. He makes a soft noise as his eyelids drop shut again, his cheek pressing into your hand, letting you carry a little bit more of his weight.

It’s quiet for a moment, and his voice is unsure when he speaks. “There’s tissues… in the—”

“Can I take care of it?” you interrupt to ask, your voice low. His eyes blink open again to look at you, and a dark glint flickers there as the unsaid meaning of your question washes over him.

“Y-yeah.”

You take your time moving down the bed to settle between Jimin’s thighs, and you stare up at him, waiting for any indication that he wants you to stop or doesn’t feel comfortable. But he just swallows hard, his adam’s apple jerking in his throat, and nods.

Leaning down, you drag your tongue in steady, long strokes over the flat plane of his stomach to lick the mess up.

As you get the last of it, you’re surprised to feel his hand cup the back of your head. You don’t resist when he pulls you up for a kiss, then licks into your mouth to taste himself, the salt and slick of his cum sliding between your tongues.

When you break apart to swallow, Jimin’s voice is a whisper. “That okay?”

You nod, unable to bite back your smile. “You’re… really fucking hot.”

He smirks as he finds your lips again. “So are you.” The next kiss is sweeter, and then he pulls back. “If you want, we can keep— or I can go down— I don’t want—” He can’t finish any of his half-started thoughts, and you smile, lovingly running your palms over his thighs, back and forth. 

You want him so badly, more than anything, but you try to breathe through it. You can see the wheels spinning in his head, that self-critical flash in his eyes, the same furrow in his brow that creases when he gets frustrated with himself.

“I’m not saying no because I don’t want you,” you preface. “But I just don’t want you to feel stressed or get in your head about it. I want it to feel good, and I’m in no rush. Next time, okay?” 

His lips are still a little pouted, but he nods, and you lean in to sling your arms around his neck. “C’mere.”

You tug him down to the mattress, and your half-naked bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, hands tracing gentle patterns over bare skin as you kiss.

When you eventually end up with your cheek pressed to his chest, you listen to the sound of his heartbeat settling, his breathing evening out. You speak softly in the quiet of his room. “My roommate’s doing an exhibition on Friday. Will you come with me? I’ve been promised there will be free booze.”

Jimin tightens his grip on your waist, his voice slurring like he’s half-asleep. “Mmm, my favorite person and my favorite thing.” There’s a pause, and he sighs. “That sounded bad. Promise I'm not an alcoholic.”

“I know,” you laugh, dragging your lips over his collarbone, then grunting a little noise of frustration as reality starts to set in. “I have class early tomorrow. I should go before I fall asleep here.”

He whines his disapproval, but when you glance up you can see the fight going out of him, his eyelids starting to flutter closed. You lean up for one, two, three more kisses before you force yourself out of bed to find your bra and your shirt. “I’ll see you Friday?”

“Mmkay.” He inhales deep, like he’s coming up for air. “Text me when you make it home safe?”

“I will,” you promise, and you do.

~*~

Namjoon’s exhibition is laughably fancy for what really just ends up being a room full of gay, overdressed art students. The ridiculous finger foods disappear in minutes— all the broke grad school kids came hungry— but you and Jimin gladly hover around the table of champagne flutes instead, giggles sparkling between you like the bubbles that fizz in your glasses.

You’ve been trying to drag him away to actually take in the art, but he keeps necking his drinks. “You’re supposed to sip it, you demon!” you chide with a laugh as he does it again, picking up a fresh glass and throwing all of it back in one gulp.

He smirks slightly as he shakes his head. “It’s more fun this way. Try it.”

You roll your eyes, hiding the grin that threatens to stretch over your face in the rim of your drink before following suit. He’s not wrong: a rush of warmth creeps up your neck as you swallow, the world softening around you, and it’s made sweeter by the kiss Jimin leans in for. When he pulls back you can see his face is flushing, too.

“Come on, Mr. Park,” you murmur, your free hand intertwining with his as you set the empty glass down and retrieve another. “Take me on a tour.”

Jimin grabs another flute too and then you’re off, and he actually manages to drink this one slowly as you weave through the gallery, the click of your footsteps underscoring the gentle classical music that floats through the speakers. You lean into Jimin in comfortable silence as you take in each art piece, sipping delicately at your champagne, occasionally hooking your chin over his shoulder just for the thrill of being close to him.

“These are all beautiful,” he hums appreciatively as you stand in front of a wide, impressionist landscape, swirls of color that shift into shapes when you step far enough away, but dissolve into unidentifiable blobs of thick-textured paint up close. “Namjoon did a really good job curating.”

“Mm-hmm,” you nod, but your eyes are on Jimin and everything else pales in comparison. He’s dressed up for the occasion, tight black jeans and a white button-down with a leather jacket thrown on over top. His hair is styled, pretty pink strands pushed back off his forehead, and his asymmetrical silver earrings glimmer in the low lighting. The result is so stunning you’ve had a hard time focusing on anything but him tonight.

A thought that’s been running through your mind all evening resurfaces again as you swallow the last of your glass of champagne.

“They should put you in a gallery.” You didn’t necessarily plan to say the thought out loud, but say it you do. Jimin quirks an eyebrow and you decide to double down. “But not here. Somewhere better.”

“The Met?” he guesses, teasing.

“The Louvre,” you counter, and he outright laughs, his head tipping back.

“The Louvre?!”

“You heard me,” you giggle, your body pressed against his side. “You’re art.”

Releasing your hand, he wraps his free arm around you to pull you into his chest, the smile still lingering over his face. “And you,” he murmurs, “are drunk.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t mean it.” Your voice is muffled slightly as you speak into his collarbone.

You tilt your head up for a kiss, and it seems to surprise both of you how quickly the atmosphere changes. It might be the more-than-several glasses of champagne to blame, or the fact that you’ve found yourselves in a corner, hidden away from the rest of the exhibition’s patrons, but the soft spark that ignites between you quickly grows into a licking flame at the touch of your lips. It’s heat-blush passion as your mouths move against each other, and you’re trying to keep quiet despite the weight of it, heavy in your core, this shared, unspoken need.

“Jimin,” you breathe into him, overwhelmed by all that he is.

He shifts, nosing at your jawline as he speaks into your ear. “Do you want to go somewhere?”

The suggestion makes you a little unsteady on your feet, your high heels threatening to topple over, and he catches you with a hand to your waist when you falter. “Like, somewhere here?”

“Too far to go all the way home,” he purrs, the hand on your body squeezing gently. “And you look too good.”

Your head swims as he kisses you again, and he pries the empty glass out of your hand, setting it down on the nearest table with his. A hand returns to the small of your back, then slips lower, cupping your ass through the fabric of your black dress. His mouth paints a smile over yours, and you grab his wrist. “Follow me.”

Stumbling your way through the gallery, trading laughs under your breath like confidants and kisses when no one is looking, you lead him back to the coat check closet at the front, thankfully left vacant by whichever freshman had been roped in to the thankless job. With a final glance over your shoulder to make sure you’re unseen, you push the door open and tug Jimin inside after you.

As soon as the coat check door closes again, he has you pressed against it, his tongue slipping hungrily into your mouth. His hands skirt up the curve of your hips as he slots a thigh between your legs, firmly pushing up the hem of your dress to grind into your clothed center.

You both freeze where you are at the sound of a moan, one that very distinctly does not come from either of you.

Jimin tries and fails to suppress a nervous laugh. Unable to make out anything in the dark, you reach your hand out, smacking aimlessly at the wall next to you until you find a lightswitch and flip it on.

“What the fu—” The man who made the noise in question flings a hand over his face at the sudden intrusive wash of fluorescents, but you’d know him from his voice alone. Kim Taehyung still has one hand gripped tight to the metal bar of a coat rack, back arched and legs spread for whoever his latest victim is, with his pants and boxers shoved down to his ankles.

Before your alcohol-soaked brain can put together a smug comment about how Taehyung needs to get his ass eaten at home like a normal human, Jimin’s voice surprises you.

“Hobi?”

You clap a hand over your mouth as you realize the man on his knees, pulling his tongue off Taehyung’s rim with a look of utter confusion, is none other than Jung Hoseok. His eyes are wide as dinner plates as his head snaps up to take the two of you in.

“Jimin?!”

“Oh my god.” You start to laugh so hard your knees buckle, and Jimin has to wrap his arms around you to keep you upright. “How the fuck did you two even meet?!”

“Do we really need to have this discussion now?!” Taehyung growls, and it only makes you laugh harder.

“Come on, come on—” Jimin is collapsing into giggles himself as he fumbles for the handle behind you. He simultaneously attempts to pull you off the door so he can swing it open. “Let’s leave them to it.”

You smack the lights off again as you make your escape, Jimin’s grip still hugging tight around your waist as you laugh until your lungs nearly give out. The lobby is thankfully empty, all the attendees pressed deeper into the gallery, so you loop your arms over his shoulders as you recover and pull his mouth back down to yours, unable to stop yourself.

“Let me take you home,” you manage to say in the space between kisses. Your tongue feels heavy when you speak; his is champagne-sweet. “Joon and Yoongi will be here for a while.”

Jimin’s agreement hums, buzzing on your lips. “Wanna take the train?”

You’re grateful the subway car you stumble into is empty, because the pull of Jimin’s mouth is too magnetic to be ignored. You don’t think you could stop kissing him if you tried.

It’s practically a race back to your apartment once you emerge from the station, partially to get out of the cold night air, though you hardly feel it with Jimin’s jacket slung over your shoulders and your body flushed hot from alcohol and desire. As you climb the four flights to your walk-up, both of you giggling and gripping tight to the banister, the spiral of the stairs sends your world spinning. You feel dizzy-drunk on wine and laughter and lust alike, and maybe something more. Something you don’t have words for yet.

It takes you three tries to get your keys in the door, and when you finally manage to get it open, you kick your shoes off and make a beeline for your bedroom, dragging Jimin along after you, hand-in-hand. Thankfully he has the foresight to remember to shut the door behind you, because all you can think about is him: the rich musk of his cologne, the taste of his tongue, the warm blush of his skin under your palms.

The leather jacket hits the floor and you step over it, walking backwards as he licks into your open mouth, shameless.

You nearly fall over when you bump up against the bed and almost lose your balance, and then you reach for the buttons of his shirt at the same time he goes for your dress. The two of you laugh your frustrations against each other as your arms tangle and get in the way.

“You first!” you insist, and he relents, lets you unbutton the starched white fabric of his button-down so he can shrug out of it. Your fingers move to undo his belt and then he takes over, impressively coordinated enough to be able to kiss you while kicking his jeans the rest of the way off, stripped down now to his black boxer-briefs. He pulls your dress up over your head, and then your barely-clothed bodies press together all the way down, the ache in your core now an undeniable throb.

Jimin takes your face in his hands and kisses you again, and you slip one hand between your hips and his to palm at him, earning an appreciative hiss. You rub at him over the front of his briefs, teasing, then dip your touch beneath his waistband.

His cock hangs heavy between his legs, but he’s not quite hard yet, maybe from the cold, so you take him in your hand and start to pump. For fear of too much dry friction you try to go slow, and he groans into your mouth as you twist your wrist a little to circle your thumb over his frenulum.

He buries his face in your neck, and you can feel the heat of his embarrassment bloom against your skin. “Sorry— gimme a second.”

Tilting your head, you press a kiss to his temple. “Don’t apologize. D’you wanna try laying down?”

When he nods, you release your grip on him so he can sink down onto the bed, crawling backwards up to the pillows. Knelt down on the mattress, you settle in the space he makes for you, thighs spread and knees tipped open, and you push his briefs down enough to free all of him.

You hook your thumb and index finger under the head of his dick to pull it flush against his stomach, allowing you better access to drag your tongue in little kitten licks up his shaft. Your other hand moves to massage gently at his balls as you take his tip into your mouth and let it bulge against your cheek, let him slip against the soft wall there to make saliva pool on your tongue, sloppy on purpose.

It’s still not working, not really, and when your gaze flits up to him again, Jimin’s face is pulled into a grimace. Heat rushes up your neck, and you pull your mouth off him and immediately right yourself. You shift backwards a little on your knees as your pulse starts to race. Does he not want this? Did you misread some sign, or push him too far?

Jimin must be able to read the look in your eyes, because he groans as he presses his face into his hands. “It’s not you. Think I drank too much, I don’t— i-it feels good, I—it just—”

You’re not exactly sober yourself. The receding white noise of panic makes it hard to think, hard to know what to say. “I-it’s okay. It’s okay.”

“I just—” he tries again. “I really want to do this, I don’t know why— it’s fucking embarrassing.” The blankets muffle the sound as his palms smack flat against the bed on either side of him in clear frustration. You move out from between his legs, still trying to catch up, and a muscle in his jaw jumps as he pulls his boxer-briefs back over himself.

“Jimin,” you murmur. The bed creaks when you shift to lay next to him, to tuck into his side, and you reach up to run a hand through his hair, a little sticky with the product holding it in place. An anxious, thrumming quiet settles over both of you as his eyes flutter closed.

The words finally come to you in the silence; you can only hope they’ll reach him. “I had so much fun with you tonight. That doesn’t go away.” The crease between his brows softens a little, so you keep talking. “It’s not your only chance, okay? I’m not leaving. I’m staying right here.” Your free hand slips into his on the bed next to you. “And I want you with me.”

He sniffs a little, so quiet you nearly miss it, then turns in towards you. Your noses bump together and your mouth turns up at the corners as you continue. “It’s late, and I… can’t promise there isn’t more ass-eating waiting for you at home. Do you want to sleep here?”

Jimin’s eyes blink open, glassy, and then he nods.

“Come on,” you say softly, sitting up and tugging on your still-joined hands. “How about we shower?”

In the bathroom, you run the water scalding hot, and when you both step in you nudge Jimin forward to stand under it first, then press against him from behind. Your hands wrap around his waist to slide over his stomach as you tilt up to reach his ear when you speak. “This okay?”

He nods, hums a little, and you move your hands up over the whole of his body. Hard lines and soft curves, a work of art you know so well, you can see it when you close your eyes as you map his skin with your fingertips. You nuzzle into the place where his neck and shoulder meet, then press a kiss there. “I’m right here,” you say again, not even sure if he hears you.

But his head turns, and you feel one of his hands slide over yours on his chest. “Will you wash my hair?” he asks softly, and you tip forward to bring your mouth to his, convinced you’d do anything he asked of you.

It’s intimate, the way you take your time running shampoo and then conditioner through his silky pink strands, dragging your nails over his scalp and applying gentle pressure that makes him sigh prettily in response. Jimin steps further under the showerhead both times to rinse the product out, and if a few tears slip down his cheeks, they’re lost to the spray of the water where you can’t tell the difference.

But he does manage the ghost of a smile when you reach to grab your washcloth and he gets there first. “Your turn.”

Once your body and then his are scrubbed and rinsed clean, you shut the water off and grab thick, fluffy towels that you dry off and wrap up in. In the dim light of your room, you pull on an oversized t-shirt and boyshorts, then dig out a pair of sweatpants from your dresser. They’re fairly baggy on you, but they fit Jimin perfectly, and the image of him in something of yours makes your heart squeeze tight in your chest.

You run two glasses under the kitchen tap that you set out to ward off any potential hangovers, and you even manage to find a spare toothbrush for him to use. When he emerges from the bathroom again, still absentmindedly toweling his damp hair, you’re sitting on the bed with your feet tucked under you.

“Do you want to watch something?” you offer gently.

He shakes his head as he stifles a yawn. “‘Mtired. Think I just wanna sleep.”

You pat the bedspread next to you, an invitation. “Then let’s sleep.”

Under the covers, you curl up together, soft and warm from the shower, scented lavender and mint from your body wash and toothpaste. Jimin’s legs tangle with yours, an arm wrapping over your waist, and you press your cheek against the hard plane of his chest with a small sigh.

You listen as his breathing slows, each inhale a little further apart from the last, to the point where you think he’s fallen asleep. You feel yourself start to follow after him, and the last thing you hear before you’re dragged all the way down is Jimin inhaling deep, then mumbling softly into your hair. “Thank you. For everything.”

~*~

Light streams in between the cracks of the window blinds, painting warm shapes over your eyelids that gently wake you. You sigh and stretch as you slowly come all the way up from dreaming, your eyes still heavy-lidded. When you roll over with a soft grunt, you find Jimin fast asleep there, his face smushed into the pillow, one arm slung lazily over you.

The corner of your mouth pulls up, and you have to fight the urge to dot kisses all over his face, deciding to let him sleep instead. It takes some maneuvering, but you manage to roll out from under his arm without waking him and slip quietly out of bed, easing the bedroom door closed behind you.

It’s early, and the apartment is still, washed in morning gleam and the gentle hum of New York City traffic on the streets outside.

You stumble into the kitchen with a stifled yawn, swinging open the fridge and leaning down to retrieve a pack of bacon and the half-empty carton of eggs. Humming quietly to yourself, you dig a pan out and set it on the stove to heat.

Arms slide around your waist, making you jump a little before you melt back as Jimin nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You can feel his body through your t-shirt, still warm from sleep and bedsheets he must’ve only just crawled out from under.

Not quite graceful, you turn in his arms and loop yours around his neck to seek a kiss. “Good morning,” you murmur, your voice hoarse on your first spoken words of the day. “How are you feeling?”

Jimin’s mouth is still slurred from waking up when he answers. “‘Mgood. You look good.” His gaze roams down your body and back up, as if to take in your oversized shirt, your bare legs, your hair still messy from sleep. “So cute like this.”

You scrunch your nose slightly as you smile up at him. “Want breakfast?”

A heat starts to pool between your legs as his hands slide further down your back. He pushes your shirt up so he can grip your ass, the thin fabric of your underwear the only thing separating his skin from yours.

“In a bit.”

You can’t help but squeak when, in one swift move, he bends his knees and lifts you off the ground. Impulsively, your legs spread to wrap over his hips, thighs squeezing tight to hold on, and your arms cling around his neck as laughter flutters in your chest. Before you can act on the urge to bury your face in his shoulder, his mouth finds yours again, and the way he kisses you, hungry and deep, makes nothing else in the world matter.

He carries you back to bed, nudging open the door he didn’t quite close all the way with his shoulder, then using a foot to push it shut again. Your muscles unclench when he sits down with you in his lap, and you unwrap your legs from around him, your knees sinking soft into the bed.

You can’t quite shake the thoughts of the night before. “Jimin,” you start, “we don’t have to do this if you don’t—”

“Want to,” his voice is low, ragged edges from sleep. “Doing it ‘cause I want to. I want you. Do you want me?”

You nod, leaning back to look at him, your arms still twined over his neck. “More than anything.”

There’s no rush this time as he shifts backwards up the bed and you crawl over him to settle into his lap again. No tension that’s been building all night, no alcohol buzzing in your systems, no urgency. Just your bodies, half-dressed in sleep clothes, intertwining like they were made to fit together.

Your kisses are sweet and unhurried as Jimin’s hands slip beneath your oversized t-shirt, delicate fingers tracing up your waist. He cups your breasts in his palms, squeezing gently as he licks into your mouth. When he rolls a nipple between his fingers, your breath hitches, sparks of arousal shooting all the way down to your toes. A weight blossoms in your core as you reach for the hem of your shirt to pull it over your head, and you shiver a little in the morning air.

“Beautiful,” Jimin says quietly, reverently, and you take his face in your hands.

“You are too,” you murmur, your eyes searching his. “So beautiful.” Your hands slip down his body as he kisses you again, your fingertips outlining the contours of his chest, gently brushing over his nipples to make him groan into your mouth.

Jimin’s hands come to rest at the curve of your hips as your mouths move together, where he teases his touch under the band of your boyshorts. He pulls back just far enough to ask, “Can I take these off?” and you nod.

You shimmy the thin fabric down your thighs, dropping onto your ass with a laugh so he can tug them the rest of the way off, one ankle at a time. As you sit up on your knees again, his hands come to grip your thighs, and he shifts lower on the bed until he’s laying flat on his back next to you.

“Wanna eat you out,” he murmurs softly.

“Yeah?” You bite down on a small smile.

He hums. “Can I— will you please, uh… sit on my face?”

You can’t help but giggle. No one has ever asked so politely. “Yeah, okay.”

It’s slow, languid, the way his full lips close delicately around your clit when you settle over him, how he alternates with lazy passes of his tongue, not unlike the way he kisses you. The pleasure pulls your spine arched and your head tips back, palms pressing flat to the bed beneath you.

“Jimin,” you gasp, “baby, feels so fucking good.”

His tongue is heavy as it drags down your folds, thick when he sinks it into your cunt to taste the slick arousal that pours out of you and drips down his chin. Your hips rock into his mouth, his nose inadvertently bumping against your clit as he licks you like he doesn’t want to waste a drop. Your walls cling tight, crammed up full of him.

With a slurp and a gasp for breath, he withdraws, his tongue made hot from being buried inside of you, trailing wet warmth as he licks back up your pussy to lap at your clit again. Your arms threaten to give out when he sucks the sensitive bud into his mouth, lips pulsing an insistent rhythm that makes you moan and writhe above him.

“Jimin, Jimin.” The pleasure is decadent, thick, wine and honey, made sweeter by the beautiful boy pressed between your thighs. Emotion bubbles up inside of you to twist with your pleasure, and you tighten a hand in his rose-blush hair as you moan again, nearly a sob this time, a dam breaking.

Jimin hums against you, fingertips digging into the soft skin of your thighs, like he can tell you’re at the edge without you having to say a word, and it’s enough to send you tumbling over it.

“Oh fuck baby, yes, fuck.” Your toes curl tight over the bedsheets as your pussy flutters, throbs, gushes. Your vision whites out as you come hard enough to make your thighs shake, hard enough that your stomach muscles tremble with the effort of holding you up. Jimin’s mouth works you through it, tongue stroking flat and slow to coax pulse after pulse out of you, until everything melts into shaky aftershocks and your thighs clench around him, over-sensitive.

He pulls back when you start to squirm, lips smacking wetly on a final kiss to your pussy, and heat flushes your face at the sound of it. Your limbs feel heavy as lead as you slip off from on top of him and collapse down onto the mattress with a floaty sigh, your pulse still thudding brightly in your ears.

You’re only distantly aware of the way the bed shifts as Jimin slides down next to you. You follow his touch on instinct, turning into him when he pulls you close and presses a kiss to your hairline. Heartbeat still slamming in your chest, mind hazy with morning orgasm glow, you hum contentedly as your eyes flutter open to find him palming at a thick bulge tenting his– well, your sweatpants.

“Looks like it’s cooperating today.” Jimin’s voice is equal parts relieved and embarrassed.

With a lazy smile, you hook a finger in his waistband, tugging playfully. “What do you want to do about it?”

He laughs hoarsely. “I would love to finally fuck you, if you’ll have me.”

“I don’t want anybody else.” The thought spills out before you can worry if it’s too soon to say it, but he just smiles and leans in to kiss you.

At Jimin’s guidance, you lay back against the pillows, a couple of which he grabs to slot under your hips. “There’s condoms in the nightstand,” you say softly, and anticipation thrums in your chest, twinning with your still-racing pulse as you watch him retrieve one, then step out of his sweatpants to roll it on.

He climbs back onto the bed to hover over you, and your breaths come shallow into each other’s mouths. You kiss quietly at the precipice of this moment, like you’re afraid it might not be real, a dream you could wake up from at any second.

“Thank you.” Jimin’s low voice sends a ripple through you. “For waiting for me.”

You press a hand to his cheek, your eyes trying to take all of him in at once. “It wasn’t waiting, Jimin. Really. I’ve loved every second with you. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing.”

“I’m so glad I met you,” he murmurs.

The head of his cock teases your entrance, and you spread your thighs wider, pulling your legs up towards your chest. Still sensitive from your first orgasm, you can’t bite back the moan that spills out of you as he sinks into your tight heat with a cock thick enough to split you open. “Fuck, Jimin.”

There’s a pause when he’s pressed all the way in, his body covering yours, your hands clutching at the broad sweep of his back. He exhales a soft, disbelieving laugh as he looks down to see himself buried in you to the hilt. “God, you’re so tight. Does it hurt?”

You shake your head— you’re so soaked from his tongue and your arousal that it all just feels like melting, a pulsating heat between your legs. When he presses another kiss to your lips, he circles his hips, and you both groan at the feeling.

Jimin’s hands grip your thighs as he shifts and starts to move, starts fucking into you with long, slow strokes that make your pussy flutter, as if to urge him in deeper.

“It’s good?” he checks in again, voice tight, clearly holding himself back.

“So good, baby,” you breathe, “please fuck me.” A smirk flashes over his mouth at your manners, so polite when you ask to take it, and then he snaps his hips into you and you keen. “Fuck, please, just like that.”

He does it again and again, hands pressing down on your thighs to keep you folded up under him as he fucks you. The angle is just right for the thick head of his cock to pound into your g-spot with every stroke, and your back arches as your walls grip tight to him.

Jimin echoes your gasps with his own, swearing under his breath as you squeeze around him. He’s thrusting deep-deep now, and your hips shove up towards him for all of it, your thighs trembling as you take every inch. You’re dripping down his length every time he pulls back, wet enough to soak the sheets beneath you.

The pleasure, the pressure as he fills you up is so overwhelming that your hands reach, clinging to anything they can find. A pillow, the bedsheets, the flexing muscles in his forearms. Your moans come unabashedly now, underscored by the slap of skin on skin, the thud of the bedframe knocking into the wall. “Jimin, Jimin, baby.”

“Yeah,” he pants, choked up like he’s close. “Love it when you say my name.”

You sit up a little, folded legs shifting to wrap over his hips, and your hands come to his face to pull his mouth down to yours. His movements stutter as you kiss him breathlessly, and the brush of your tongue over his must be just enough to make him come undone. With a grunt of effort, he thrusts hard into you one final time, and his shoulders shake as he fills up the condom.

You kiss him again and again, your lips pulled into a smile against his as you tangle a hand in his hair, made messy from sleep and sex. Jimin’s body weighs heavy on top of yours as he drops his head to your shoulder, breath coming in short heat-bursts over your collarbone.

“Fuck. Been a minute.” He presses a kiss there, another to your neck, a third to your jaw. “Do you want to keep going?”

Your eyes widen at the question. “I— can you?”

A soft flush paints color in his cheeks, and he’s suddenly a little shy. “Yeah, I can. If you want. Or we can stop.”

You wrap your arms over his shoulders, your noses bumping. “I kinda felt like I was getting close again.”

He smiles. “Then let me finish what I started.” There’s a bit of shuffling as he moves to the edge of the bed to remove and tie up the used condom, then reaches for the box to retrieve another.

As he tears open the foil and rolls it on, you watch and consider all of him. This body that you know from every angle, that you’ve studied like a textbook, that holds the boy who stepped onto the subway and changed your life and made it better. This body, made to be adored, to be respected and cherished and filled up with love. This body, chosen to be shared with you, to be held by you, to be near you.

That’s all you want, you realize as he rolls over, brown eyes blinking sweetly at you. This body, and all that it holds: the darkness and the light, the pain and the beauty, the soul that so perfectly fits with yours.

“Turn over for me?” he asks softly. “I want to spoon.”

This round is easier, slower, your bodies molding together, shaky from effort and sensitivity. You twist over your shoulder, tipping your head up for a kiss that turns into a shared gasp as he presses into you again. Your walls are swollen enough to be tender, and the stretch of him, the way he fills you up entirely, makes your eyes roll back.

As he starts to grind his hips into you, his hand snakes down between your thighs before you even have to ask. You hook a leg over his to allow him better access and gasp when his cock slides even deeper into you from the new angle.

“So good,” you manage as two of his fingers work circles into your clit, matching the same slow-stroke pace. His tongue slips into your mouth, and with his cock rubbing insistently against your front wall, it doesn’t take much. Pleasure overwhelms you in a hot rush as he so easily pulls you apart again.

“Jimin.” Your voice is nearly a whisper, your walls starting to pulse. Your head tips back against his shoulder as he fucks and rubs you through it, his hums of encouragement buzzing through your body, your hips shuddering. “Baby, oh god.”

Jimin’s strokes start to falter, and then he goes still, your cunt aftershock-fluttering around him as he comes again, groaning your name.

A brush of daylight through the blinds makes your eyes heavy, and they drop closed as you lean into him and breathe through the comedown. You don’t know how long you lay there like that until his kisses pull you back earthside, dotting over your forehead, cheeks, nose, jaw. You tilt your head up and he finally finds your lips again.

With a deep grunt of post-sex effort, he rolls over, leaning off the edge of the bed to deal with the second condom. A shiver dots up your spine at the loss of his body next to yours, and you tuck into his side when he lays down again, throwing an arm over his chest to better nuzzle into the crook of his neck. The heat of his palm makes you sigh as his hand rubs gentle circles against your back.

Something cracks open inside of you, warm like his touch, like the sunlight bleeding through the window. You can feel the rapid pace of his heartbeat under your hand, and it’s everything, all of him, that makes the words rise up in your throat, undeniable.

“Jimin,” you breathe, “I l—”

A loud bang on your bedroom door makes you flinch, and you roll over with a grimace as Yoongi shouts from the other side. “If you’re finished, just so you know, you left a fucking pan on the stove. Could’ve burnt the house down while you were in there deflowering each other.”

Your jaw drops open and Jimin’s eyes go wide, and you collapse against each other in a silent rush of laughter. You’re surprised when Yoongi’s voice comes back, a little softer this time. “Also I brought some bagels back from work. If you want any, better hurry before Namjoonie eats them all.”

The charged moment has passed, and the words sink back down inside of you. Making a promise to tell him soon, you wrap yourself tighter around Jimin’s side with a smile. “What do you think?”

He nods thoughtfully. “I’ll never say no to a bagel.”

“Come on then,” you murmur, tilting up for a final hit of affection. The kiss he leaves on your lips makes your heartbeat flutter, like the shudder of a subway car.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

just a girl 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as possible cheating, low self-esteem, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you move in with your sister when your luck turns for the worst.

Characters: Walter Marshall, possible Andy Barber

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

It isn't your proudest moment. You don't have many of those. There is little remarkable about, nothing of note, nothing admirable. You might stand a bit taller than most but it's rarely given as a good thing. 

You never expected much of life. You resigned yourself to living in the shadows. In particular, you knew you would always bet outshone by your sister's light. You can't hate her for it; it's your own shortcoming. Besides, no one can hate Riannon, she's just that nice. 

You are dark smear on the family name. It's why you didn't even think to ask your parents for help. You didn't even ask your sister, she offered, insisted really. You could never deny her and in this instant, you couldn't afford any other option. 

It’s just for a while, you keep telling yourself. You’ll find a new job and a place soon. For now, you’ll just stay out of the way. It isn’t very hard; you take up much more room than your few possessions. 

You keep yourself holed in the guestroom as you settle into your second day. You have your laptop on your thighs as you scroll the job boards. You have the experience but you expect your reference would be any good. You didn’t exactly end on cordial terms. Starting from square one, though the industry isn’t exactly even ground for men and women alike. 

You hunker down to search through the various postings within your purview. Every classification is ticked off, even the years, it’s just that little note about contacting your previous employers that makes you nervous. Well, you at least have to try. 

A knock comes at the door as you edit your cover letter once again. You sit up and close the computer. You slide it aside and get up. You cross the room and crack the door open. You sister smiles from the other side. 

“Am I making too much noise?” You ask as your music plays music from its tiny speaker. 

“No, no, not at all. Um, so you know Andy is out of town for the day so it’s just us,” she rocks, “and there’s a barbecue down the street so... I thought you could get to know the neighbourhood.” 

You look down at her, the offer catching you off guard. You were prepared to spend the whole day hidden away and poring over job listings. Even when you had your own place, you tended to spend most of your own time inside. 

Still, she is doing you a huge favour and it would be rude to say no. You shrug, “okay.” 

“Great, I have some potato salad I'm bringing,” she chirps.  

“Uh,” you look at her blue checkered capris and pristine white blouse, “should I change?” 

“It’s up to you. I'm just going to get packed up. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” 

Her excitement is palpable. She probably expected you to say no. You don’t want to let her down again. You’re tired of that feeling. 

You close the door as she bounces away and you retreat to search through your still unpacked suitcase. Your clothes hang over the sides. You pick out a band shirt and a pair of dark grey jeans. You don’t have any shorts and you know your repertoire of dark colours only draws in the sun’s fury, and like of the vaunted HOA, but you don’t have many options. 

You emerge with a pair of converse in hand and head into the kitchen. Rhiannon snaps the lid onto a big bowl as she beams up at you. You don’t understand how you share the same blood, she’s so different than you. Where you’re tall and gangly, she’s small and dainty; where your dour and reticent, she’s bright and bubbly. Your parents even kidded that you must’ve been switched at the hospital. 

“Ready?” She asks. 

You nod and look down at yourself. 

“If you want to borrow a skirt or something, it’s pretty hot out.” 

“It’s fine.” 

You don’t take her offer as any comment on your choice, only genuine concern. If it was your mom, you would know it was more than that. To be fair, your mother is very direct with her critiques. Besides, even if her clothes would fit you, you don’t want to risk ruining any of her things. 

“Alrighty, well, Marge will kill me if I’m late again,” she sings and sweeps around with the bowl. “It’ll be nice to get out, huh?” 

“Mhmm,” you grumble and follow her down the hall to the front door. 

She steps into her wedged sandals as you sit to pull on your converse and lace them up. You stand and get the door for her as she prances towards it. She thanks you and you trail her out. The sun hits you like fire. It’s so hot, though you think some of the heat comes from your own self-consciousness. 

As you catch up to your sister at the bottom of the steps, you slow down to keep from outpacing her shorter legs. Even with her platformed soles, she’s still ahead shorter than you. You turn down the sidewalk as you shy away from the strange faces headed in the same direction. 

“You want me to carry that?” You offer. 

“Hey, I might be small but I can handle a salad,” she chirps. 

“I know, I wasn’t--” 

“I’m teasing. It’s fine, I got it,” she assures you as she hugs the bowl to her stomach, “I just want you to have a good day. Don’t think about everything else, okay?” 

“Mm, okay,” you keep your head down as you slink next to her jouncing steps, “sorry, I'll try not to be too grim.” 

“Whatever, you’re awesome,” she nudges you with her elbow, “you just be yourself and I know you’ll find some good friends around here.” 

You try to smile but it hurts. She always sees the best in others, even when it’s not there. You keep pace with her and turn up another curated lawn. The walk is perfectly laid and the blossom tree sways overhead. 

Rhiannon is welcomed through the open gate by one of those blonde women she has her book club with and you shuffle in with your hands in your pockets. You feel the woman’s harsh gaze and peek up. She looks at you the same way your mother does. Her name is Marge and her friend is Callie and there are dozens of the Stepford-like figures posted throughout the yard. 

“Come, let’s put your salad out,” Marge insists. 

Rhiannon looks at you and you chew your cheek, “go, I'll be fine.” 

She looks reluctant but you’re already walking away. You ignore the smell of sausage and beef rising from the barbeque and the splash and laughter of children from the pool. You aren’t going to find any friends here. That much is clear. Housewives and little kids, you don’t really fit the bill. 

You find your way to the far end of the lawn and stand by a tree you might just blend into. Or maybe you might bury yourself in the rose bushes. You pull your hands from your pockets and hook your fingers into your belt loops, swaying as you watch a bumble bee hover over the grass. 

“Foo Fighters, huh?” A low drawl brings your head up as a man approaches with a beer bottle in hand. 

“Um, yeah,” you look down at your shirt, tugging on the hem. 

“You go to a show?” He asks as he stops near you, drinking from the bottle as he waits for your answer. 

“Never been to one,” you cross your arms, “but I listen to them.” 

“Ah, yeah, well, they put on a hell of a show,” he wiggles the bottle as he talks, “lot more fun than these things.” 

You look up the yard towards the mingling of voices and sound. Despite your efforts to hide in a corner, you must have stuck out like a sore thumb. Shoot, maybe he thinks you’re trespassing. 

“I came with my sister,” you point and shift towards the party, “sorry, um, Rhiannon. I didn’t... I was just looking at the roses.” 

“Not my party,” he scoffs, “I don’t care.” 

“Oh,” you blink and look at him. He's about your height, dark curly hair, and vibrant blue eyes. His dark beard is thick and stubble prickles along his neck. He wears a plain white shirt and jeans; the bare minimum. “Right, er, well...” 

“Not a bad idea, hiding behind a tree,” he remarks, “but you're missing the key ingredient.” 

He stops and stares, crooking a brow as if you should know what he means. 

“Alcohol,” he raises his bottle, “they got a keg even. Probably the only good part about these bull—these things.” 

“I don’t drink,” you mutter, “but thanks.” 

You put your head down and stare at the grass around his shoes. You don’t know why he’s bothering you if it isn’t to make you leave. Obviously, you don’t belong. 

“Never too late to start,” he snorts and stays as he is. 

You don’t know how to make him leave you alone so you say nothing. The bee dips into a tulip’s mouth and you turn to watch it. Maybe he’ll take your silence as a hint. 

[specialagentlokitty]

Carlisle x reader - the peace of you

Hello, could I request your 2024 prompt number 3 with Carlisle X fem Reader? Maybe the reader is immortal and has lost her family/friends/lover and had been suffering with loneliness and abuse until she met Carlisle and his family? Because he's a vamp and he knows what it's like to outlive people? And Edward can hear how happy she is around his adoptive dad - Anon 💜

3: “He/she/they carry more anger and pain then the whole universe combined, I can see it. Betrayal, hurt, deception, heartache, they’ve been through it all. He/she/they walked through hell a thousand times.” “Why are you telling me this?” “Because the only time I’ve ever seen true peace in his/her’s/their eyes is when he/she/they saw you.”

Sitting in your shop, you rested your feet on the chair opposite you, flicking through some of the books you had delivered while a few people wondered the shop.

The door went, and the bell sounded.

“Afternoon.” You called.

“Hey, have you seen Edward?”

You glanced up at the teenager unimpressed, a straight looking on your face.

“I’m not his keeper, I don’t keep track of all the vampires in the area Bella. If you can’t find your boyfriend that’s not my issue.”

She furrowed her brows a little.

“Seriously? You always know where people are.”

“I’m a bounty hunter, I know where people are when they’ve got a bounty, Edward doesn’t, so, if you’re not here to buy something go away.”

“Just tell me.”

You narrowed your eyes at her and she shuffled back a little, making her way towards the doors before she left.

You didn’t like humans, but you had to live among them, and you especially didn’t like her.

So ready to just throw away her human life, everything she had just for a boy she met.

It annoyed you.

A few seconds later and the bell went again, and you grumbled.

“I already told you I don’t know where he is.”

“Well, that would be good to know except I’ve already found the person I was looking for.”

You set your book down and stood up, walking around the desk to stand in front of it as the other vampire walked around.

He smiled softly at you and you gave a tiny one back.

“What can I do for you Carlisle? You’re not my usual clientele.”

“No, I’m not here about a bounty, I was wondering if you had any of these.”

He handed you a list and you looked through, nodding to yourself.

“Yeah, I’ve got them. Do you want me to bring them to yours?”

“That would be wonderful, thank you so much.”

You smiled at him, setting the list on your desk and you glanced at him before turning away.

“Yeah, I’ll be around later that’s no problem. How is everything?”

He sighed, shaking his head.

“Honestly? It’s all over the place, but I can’t do anything about it, he loves her, we need to protect that.”

“Even if it means putting yourself in danger?”

“Everybody has someone, Bella is the someone Edward has, it’s important we protect that.”

You gave a small shrug.

“Maybe, but maybe it isn’t worth it.”

“I know you don’t fully agree with the way we do things, but I am really grateful for everything you do to help.”

“Don’t worry about it, you should go, I’ll sort these.”

Carlisle nodded, glancing at you one last time before he left.

The moment you came into town he was smitten with you, but he was finding it hard to grow close to you.

You kept everybody at arms length, you made it clear that you were by yourself, you did things your way with your own rules, and there wasn’t much they could do about it.

You didn’t hunt on their grounds, you ran your shop just outside their territory, but sometimes if they came to you for help you would help.

You were like a box of mysteries, just then he think he has you figured out there’s something new there that surprises him.

Later that night you turned up at their house with the box of books, and you carried it upstairs, setting it down on the counter and began to take them out.

You were talking to Rosalie and Alice about them, explaining what they were about and what was in them, and Carlisle stood across the room watching you.

“Why not ask her on a date?” Emmett asked.

Carlisle shook his head.

“I could never do that.”

“Yes you could, and you deserve it.” Edward said.

“She isn’t exactly the most social person, there is just no way she would agree, I think I would rather try be friends.”

Edward glanced at his adoptive father before looking at you.

You glanced at Carlisle, and all the noise Edward heard in your head just seemed to stop, then when you looked away it picked up again.

“She carry’s more anger and pain then the whole universe combined, I can see it. Betrayal, hurt, deception, heartache, they’ve been through it all. She walked through hell a thousand times.”

Carlisle turned to Edward, his back towards you.

“Why are you telling me this?”

Edward smiled a little, gesturing to you with his head.

“Because the only time I’ve ever seen true peace in her eyes is when she saw you.”

Carlisle turned back around to face you, and the moment you connected eyes with him you smiled.

“I think it’s worth a chance.”

With that, Edward left, and Carlisle walked over to help you, all the others quickly leaving.

“You seem to enjoy being around them.” He said.

“It’s nice knowing you guys get the whole immortality thing, and I don’t have to pretend to be something I’m not.”

“I understand that, it does get exhausting after a while.”

You nodded your head, resting your arms on the counter.

“At least when you’re human you know everything stops when you die, as a vampire you still have to live with all that pain from your human life and more. You have to do it alone.”

“You don’t have to.”

You turned to him, furrowing your brows a little.

“You can still find people, have a family, friends to support you.”

You scoffed a little.

“Nobody wants to be around a vampire who’s bounty hunter.”

Carlisle smiled softly, turning fully to face you.

“I do.”

You stood back up, looking at him utterly confused.

“I want to be around you, I would like to be with you. You’ve spent so long by yourself that you’ve forgetting life still has beautiful moments, even for a vampire, I want you to see that it still does. I want to see you smile (Y/N).”

“Carlisle…”

“If you don’t want that then it’s okay, I hope we can stay as friends but the offer is there, just a drink, that’s all. Nothing more unless that is what you want.”

You stared at him, and he could see the little spark in your eyes that was there when you saw him.

Usually you held a cold and callous look, but when you looked at him it was with nothing but pure softness, fondness.

“You don’t have to be alone..” he whispered.

“People will talk.”

Carlisle reached out, taking your hand in his.

“Then let them, I want you around, I know everybody else here wants you around as well.”

You smiled, looking away.

“I haven’t been for a drink in a while, I cant even remember what I like.”

He chuckled.

“Well, I have plenty of options for you to chose from.”

He raised your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles before he let go.

“Take some time, think about it.”

“I will.”

You left a few moments later, his offer still running around in your head.

A life as a vampire wasn’t easy, and you thought there was nothing else too it, but you couldn’t lie when you said the world was definitely better when you were around Carlisle.

You didn’t have to think too much about his offer, you were going to accept, but you didn’t want to come across as too eager so you decided to wait before agreeing, and at least it would find you time to find something to wear.

Carlisle didn’t need Edward to tell him that you would agree to his offer, he could see it on your face, the pure happiness you had when he had asked.

He had a good feeling you would agree, and he couldn’t wait for you to tell him so he could see you again, because there was nothing in this world quite like you

[greypetrel]

Hello there! As you may have read already, I am participating at the Raffle for Palestine organized by @northern-passage!

From the 7th to the 21st of June, if you donate a minimum of 5€/$ to one of a list of 5 vetted families, you can apply with the proof of your donation to earn a ticket to the raffle! Here are the rules, the form to enter the raffle and more infos on the families we're trying to help. If you can't donate please spread the word and share this!

The winners at the end of the month will receive one art or written commission from the list of contributors. You can find them all here, check them all out because there's some real talent!

As for me, I am offering a fully rendered portrait of your original character with minimal background, not exclusive to any IF, within the genres of fantasy and historical (yes to fandoms and roleplaying games! Dragon Age, Baldur's Gate, DnD, Pathfinder...).

You can see in the pictures some examples of what I'm offering. I'm really happy to be included in this project. So please, donate if you can, or spread the word like crazy if you don't! And in any way you'll choose to contribute... thank you so much! 💜

[delulu-archives]

Love in Vinyl (Jeon Wonwoo x Reader)

If you were to create an extended play about your relationship with Wonwoo, this would be it. Your title track? To You - a perfect symphony about how a love yours feels like. You and Wonwoo found your safe place to land - each other. And like music in vinyl, every ridge and groove of your relationship makes up the perfect music.

Note: Wonwoo x producer!reader, smut, fluff, slow-burn, multiple scenarios, friends to lovers, AU, unedited Disclaimer: Dear reader, please bear in mind that this is an AU, hence there might be some scenes that may not be as cohesive as real-life, but I did try my best to match the timelines. This is a longer one-shot containing various parts inspired by different songs. Then, it would be followed with more chapters of shorter music-inspired one-shots from within your timelines. 💜 Word count: 23,229 SECOND FIC IS HERE, DARLINGS! Read Love me Lights Out here.

I love Wonwoo so much and I need an outlet for my delulu self, that I am now willing to share with you, world. :) this is the first ever fic I am posting here in Tumblr so pleease forgive all the mushy stuff. I really hope you'd like it, though. Enjoy, darlings. 💗💙

I pour my blood, sweat, tears, and delulu dusts to write this. Please help me protect my work while reaching more delulu darlings who may find escape here, too. 💜 Cross-posted in AO3 (theloveofthunder17)

You, I always need you I step still further away Only the rough wind lingers around me So, I always need you You're the only one for my breathless self Oh, even if we're facing each other, I still miss you Hey, even without saying anything You're the only one that who understands me Today I'll go to your arms too (Hey, hey, hey, hey) I'm grateful to you, who greets me whenever I open the door In a swirling day You've given me a piece of happiness You've placed all of the smiles in the world in my hands So even if I run out of breath on a steep road Even when I lose my path during a cold day We're still holding hands with warmth Nothing is easier than I thought Thinking about what should I do everyday When I think I've arrived, I'm back to the start Even when the dark is ahead of me, oh-ooh-oh Ooh, during the swirling days I can run without any fears Because of our faith that we still kept Because I'm so grateful, I'm in tears How can I repay all of this? To you, to you The story I want to express To you, to you I want to say more things like this Oh-oh, in a swirling wind If there's an eternal love Then you're that person

You weren't really prepared for your life to change when you first worked for Big Hit, a relatively small, start-up company that somehow put faith in your skills and your eagerness. You were penniless, basically living off minimum wage you earn as you pursued your course in university alongside working with BTS since their debut. You started as an intern, a researcher for such a small company you took as a steppingstone to your career. You were working with only handful of producers then, hence gaining the exposure while putting double work developed you massively. It was baptism by fire, they always told you. With of your determination and grit, you soon became a segment producer and made your way as one of the regular producers of their contents. You were present during concerts and shows, filming and drafting ideas so your skills expanded tenfold while you were growing your network, too. You were part of the massive shift in BTS' career and the agency's success. You were there as the team behind the camera grew from a few people to hundreds as years passed by.

You were one of the most trusted, most tenured producers, growing and learning with the boys and the company. You proved your innate talent as you became one of the brains behind their hit 'healing' contents such Bon Voyage and Run BTS, documentaries, and many other social networking releases that helped them reach a global scale. Those years were a whirlwind – pure chaos but utterly amazing in its own way.

BigHit continued growing as BTS continued to triumph internationally, bridging borders across the globe. The company's growth meant a lot of acquisitions and partnerships with relatively similar labels the head of the agency fostered good working relationships with, and that was when Pledis entered your world. As an independent company such as BigHit before, both companies somehow built close ties from the higher ups, knowing both were relatively smaller companies compared to the giants. It was a perfect partnership, truly. Gradually, even the respective production teams had built connection and network, driven mainly by the encouragement of the senior management.  

By early 2018, you started being more involved with both companies as part of continuous partnership initiatives. The producers often welcomed your expertise because you always offered fresh perspectives, from an angle of someone so pivotal to the successful contents and program releases of BTS for the past five years and from someone around the same age of the artists and the fanbases. You struck the perfect balance every time.

You have met some of Pledis' artists before through working with BTS, seeing them during shows, networking with Pledis producers, or casually interacting with them around the industry. With the changing dynamics however, you were eager to know more about the group on a more professional and personal manner. You spent time researching about them and getting to know them through their managers and producers, and of course the contents they had already released before. Their beginnings were much like your beloved BTS – they started from the bottom and slowly continued making their name known in the scene – SEVENTEEN. They were just nearly a 3-year-old group then, still fresh, and still discovering the many things they could bring to the table. With immense innate talent they possess, you were certain they'd be one of the most successful groups, and you were right.

"Everyone, this Y/N. She's going to be one of the producers for some of our contents and she came time to meet you all."

You found yourself in a middle of the room surrounded by the members after their debrief session for one of their Going Seventeen Spin-off shooting day. You were present during the whole shoot, watching and observing how these individuals work and just how comfortable and easy to work with they are. Your friend and mentor who happened to work with BigHit before requested your presence there, given that he's one of the long-time producers of the show. 

"You all behave," the producer teased the team, leaving you all in the room for some time to get to know each other.

"Hello everyone."

"Hello, PD-nim." The members greeted you, with Seungcheol politely asking you to sit and feel comfortable, and you did. 

They looked excited with the introduction of a new staff member and you immediately felt the positive energy everyone radiated. You immediately thought this was going to be easier than what you had initially expected.

"Hope you still have energy? I'll try and make it as quick as possible." Your whole persona exuded a different type of energy that the team found refreshing, as if your wavelength would also match theirs and instead of senior staff members they were used to working with, your youthful take on things was something they were all looking forward to. 

"We're okay, PD-nim." The leader piped in and everyone agreed. "It's still early!"

The room was filled with hums and excited murmurs so you wanted to sustain that energy. Instead of your usual laptop, you took out pens and sticky notes from your bag to distribute it to the team for a quick activity.

"I am quite unconventional so I would like to get to know you guys personally through this game and would also allow you to ask me questions so you can get to know me." You explained looking around the room as the men started to show curiosity despite it being the first time you actually got to meet them. You reckoned it was because it was something new to them.

"Y/N-noona, you know us all already?" Mingyu asked, his bright smile lighting up the mood and surprising everyone with how casual he was with you. He had been smiling at you since he saw you that day but you already warned him beforehand to not let the team know just yet. You met him several times already through Jungkook and learned just how how much of a golden retriever he is, so refreshing for a man standing 6'2".

"Hey! I've met you guys before! It's just that I was always nagging BTS behind camera."

"Ah you're the scary PD-nim!" Minghao exclaimed, earning laughter from the team.

"I suppose I am, yeah. But again, I know you guys."

"Shall we test it, PD-nim? Whether you really know us?" DK, the group's sunshine, suggested and the team all agreed. The whole thing did not feel intimidating for them at all even though you'd be working as their producer.

"It's Y/N. You can just call me Y/N. But challenge accepted! I watch a lot of your contents, you know." A soft smile crept into your lips as you recited their full-names and stage names as you pointed at them in order they are seated, even included the nicknames the fans use to refer to them or their iconic lines. A collective 'woahs' filled the room at how accurate you were. You could see their walls breaking gradually which was the goal of the meeting - to establish the familiarity and ease before even working with them.

"And last but not the least... 울고 싶지 않아 (Ulgo sipji ana/I don't want to cry)". Your sweet voice resonated around the room followed by the cheers and howls from the members, while your turned your gaze towards quietest man in the room, meeting those kind eyes behind his thick glasses. Knowing how to read the room and adjust your approach, you reckoned it would need a little more effort to make Jeon Wonwoo more comfortable and participative, especially that you were a new face. Wonwoo emitted such a kind aura with a hint of mischief, and you were certain you'd enjoy seeing him break out of his shell through the programmes you'd produce.  Your attempt at building rapport was quickly rewarded, earning a nod and a warm yet shy smile from him. It made your stomach flutter and Seokjin was the only person who managed to affect you like that before.  

"Alright, in that piece of paper I gave, I want you to write the simplest thing that excites you the most when working on contents such as Going Seventeen outside being musicians and idols, and from there, I'll guess who it might belong to. If you have questions for me, put it there, too."

You watched them intently as they endlessly bickered, teased, and gathered ideas from one another. You loved the chemistry and relationship they have almost immediately. Clapping your hands to get their attention, you gathered the papers and opened it one after the other. You read interesting and simple things they wrote such as 'fun activities', 'prize', 'food', 'mafia', 'travel', 'games and money' and the likes. The hour was filled with laughter as you answered those who asked a question and tried guessing based on this. 

"What he likes - gaming and would like to try travelling. His question for me - 'Who are you?' Wow such a straightforward one." You snorted as you read one of the papers, rolling your eyes playfully as they hollered, shouting it was Wonwoo for sure. "Is it yours?" You turned to the man whose ears were turning red as you clutched your chest feigning heartache which made the team tease him more as he admitted he wrote it.

"Alright then, who am I? Wonwoo, I am BTS' favourite producer, and I have a feeling that I will be Seventeen's most favourite producer soon enough, too."  

The members cheered, clapping their hands as Mingyu led them to chant your name, "Y/N-noona! Y/N-noona!"

"Don't tell the other PDs I said that. It's a secret."

One particular paper made you laugh, it was Hoshi's, saying that he mostly enjoys being a tiger and being a star but then followed by a question about their seniors, "How different is BTS? What can we learn from them?"

You paused and considered the question, looking at the team in the eyes, "They are not much different. Like you, they started from the bottom - working day in and day out, breaking barriers and crushing bigotry and racism. They are so much like you than you'd imagine, that's why I think you all get along well every time you work together." 

The team nodded and hummed, as if pondering what you just said. Mingyu also agreed, given that he already heard many stories about the band from Jungkook. 

"What can you learn from them? Be human because you are humans. You cry, you get angry, you get tired, you fall, you stand, you laugh, you fight, you rejoice, too. You eat, you shower, hopefully, you take care of yourself, but most importantly, you love. You love what you do, you love yourself, you love each other. It will make a difference in this wild industry you are in. You love."

There was moment shared between you and the members, a quiet one with only knowing smiles and glances around the room. It was evident that it was going to be the start of a harmonious work-life with them.

Since early 2018, you were able to foster good working relationship and friendship with the members, as part of the producers for Going Seventeen Spin-off.  From 2019 onwards, you became a regular around their studio, especially with more talks around agency mergers becoming more and more apparent from the management to senior staff levels. With your brilliant mind, you become more involved in conceptualizing contents and special episodes for Going Seventeen, earning you a title as of one of their most loved and most hated producers at all times. You later became one of the brains behind TTT, Don't Lie, Ego, and Bad Clue series which were all loved not only by the fans but also the members themselves.

Being just at the same age as Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Joshua, it was naturally easy for them to trust and build connection with you, much like how you were with BTS. Everyone became comfortable around you quickly, with your presence offering some sort of normality among individuals who are always under the spotlight. "You're not just a producer but a great friend and 'noona'. I am really thankful." Dino, ever so precious, reminded you after a tedious working day for everyone. There were no pressure working with you even when you were running things in the background no matter how scary and serious you can become sometimes — just some of many reasons why they love you.

Since you started working with them, there were members who had grown closest to you such as the 95z, Hoshi, Dino, and Minghao but surprisingly, there was another one who grew to love your presence – Wonwoo.

Admittedly, Wonwoo was not the easiest one to get to know — he had always been reserved and observant, laughing on the side lines and supporting his team, but somehow, he felt comfortable with you. With how wild and loud the other team members can get, you understood that Wonwoo would not fight for that limelight, and while not intentional, being quiet also meant he sometimes felt as though no one was listening to him. Of course, Jeonghan and Mingyu are always there for him, but with your arrival however, he felt more understood and seen. It was rare for him to foster such close relationship with anyone that easily, but with you, it was a breeze. "As easy as breathing," he once told you.

Wonwoo would often receive teasing gaze and smirks from the team whenever you were in the studio working or even getting their ideas from them, even when you were still just doing small projects before. He always found himself beside you during breaks, talking about everything under the sun - from the games he discovered, or the latest restaurant he tried, or more interesting and controversial topics. The two of you could easily get lost in hours after hours of random conversations and even arguments which challenged both of your perceptions - his practical and rational mindset and your more creative and idealist mindset. You became comfortable enough to share stories of your childhood, hardships, or even concerns without fear of judgment despite differences. You became close enough to even know each other's families. You were always in your own little bubble, enjoying each other's company as if you had been best friends forever. You thought that was the beauty of it - the build up of your friendship was organic. 

Wonwoo was never the one to fall quickly — always sure-footed and rational even in that regard. However, he was always a little too excited whenever you were around, and you were always in his mind whenever you were not around — something he would not necessarily admit. He felt it, though, and allowed himself to bask in that new feeling.

You on the other hand was always focused on your career - the schedule was hectic alone to even pay attention to being in a relationship. In reality, you had carefully built your walls since you started working in the industry, but somehow, someway, Wonwoo managed to slowly break your guards down.

You were not certain when it started – the silly banters, the teasing, the sweet gestures, and more moments spent alone you both always looked forward to - but it happened. 

In such chaos around you, you and Wonwoo found a safe place to land – each other. 

Around July of 2019, you produced SVT Travel episodes for GoSe. New York, a perfect location for the boys to film such content. The city had everything to offer, and it was right on time as they were set to perform as one of the artists for KCon that year. They were the most anticipated artist there and you knew how enthusiastic they were about it too. Prior to the event, they were given a chance to roam around New York on their own and explore the city by group, Bon Voyage style. Every one made the most out of their travel, enjoying everything in the city from food, parks, and even the shops.

They were quite bummed you were not there for their travel vlog though it was you who made it possible to squeeze in that content and allow them to enjoy. There was a conflict in schedule, but you told them you'd try. They knew you would be preoccupied with project commitments and would not be around for a while because you were busy preparing for BTS' New Zealand trip that September for the fourth season of Bon Voyage. Everything was manic with BTS going on an extended break before their trip, and still being one of the head producers for BV, you were naturally occupied, too.

However, your heart yearned to be in New York for more reasons than you cared to admit. So while it seemed impossible, you tried finishing all the work and preparations so you can squeeze in the time to fly to NYC.

And of course, you did.

While you were not there for KCon, you found yourself walking in the streets of the concrete jungle the night before a special occasion - Wonwoo's birthday.

Nobody knew you were coming except from some staff members, Seungcheol, and by extension Jeonghan. They told you they planned something for him so you can surprise the birthday boy who had been sulking for the past few days. Birthday blues, they assumed, so they wanted it to be special for the man who would not normally demand anything.

They said they would have late dinner so they can still be up drinking until midnight, which was not uncommon at all. You already experienced their random drinking sessions before and was impressed with how they can hold their liquor, except Hoshi and Seungkwan, of course.

It was right on time with your arrival at NYC at 10:00 PM. That gave you ample time to settle down in your hotel nearby the place they were staying in. At around 11:30 PM, Jeonghan gave you a head's up that they were all together, drinking and eating, and asked you to come before midnight. You arrived by the door of their accommodation few minutes before 12:00 AM of 17 July, just enough time for the surprise.

Your loud knock broke through their laughter and Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and the others who kept up with the secret asked Wonwoo to open it, reasoning that he was the closest to the door.

"Yah! It's my birthday and you're ordering me around!"

He complained but being an angel that he naturally is, obliged. It was the most perfect timing -- the clock struck midnight as Wonwoo turned the knob and opened the door to you holding a cake with a cute little candle lit up. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened as if he could not believe you were there, wishing him a happy birthday along with the members.

"Make a wish." You gave him your gentle smile and lifted the cake towards him. Speechless, Wonwoo closed his eyes, put his hands together for a wish, and blew the candle. Everyone cheered, clapped, and hugged him - all pleased with how the man responded to the small surprise. It was loud but Wonwoo felt as though you were the only person around that moment. His eyes remained glued to you, as if trying to convince himself he was not dreaming.

In a blink, he engulfed you in his embrace, his head buried against your neck. "You're here," he breathed out as he tightened his arms around you.

You swore you could feel his shy smile against your skin.

"Happy birthday, Wonwoo." You mumbled, rubbing his back soothingly as you wrapped your arms around him with equal affection and care.

Unbeknown to the both of you, the members were already giggling and whispering how dense you both were about each other's feelings.

-

New York was even more beautiful than you imagined. You had been there before, but somehow, that summer bloomed differently - it was brighter, more colourful, and more alive. You tried convincing yourself it really was like that but you second-guessed whether it was because you were already smitten with the man you were spending the day with. Either way, you had no complaints. 

With how famous he was, you knew it would be impossible to spend the day with just the two of you alone given that they also headlined a huge concert just few days back. Wonwoo was adamant to spend the day with just the two of you, but you managed to convince him to bring the guys. They all deserved that break after all, so it was just perfect.

You all decided to spend the day at Six Flags, getting lost and enjoying the wide variety of activities offered in the amusement park. The members and some managers were around, but they gave you space per Wonwoo's request without your knowledge.

You spent the day sightseeing together, getting on various rides, enjoying meals and several desserts, and just being silly kids - with playful matching headbands, even. For someone you constantly tease as part of the iron deficiency line, Wonwoo seemed to have all the energy in the world that day.

You spent few hours together until the members called to let you know that the firework show was about to start. Hurriedly, you and Wonwoo went to the centre-ground just before the bright, colourful explosions glimmered under the dark velvet sky, capping the celebration with a perfect view.

Everyone was in awe of the grand display, as expected. 

You, on the other hand, found the man beside you more fascinating than the show glittering the sky. You watched the reflection against his glasses and his almond eyes, admiring how the colours lit up his perfect face while his lips curled in his signature small smile as he expertly took photos of the show. He looked even more breathtaking. This man was crafted so carefully you were sure the universe spent more time perfecting him.

The thud in your chest was relentless, and when you thought things couldn't get better, it did. You felt Wonwoo's hands twining with yours as he turned towards you and smiled, "Thank you for making this the best birthday ever."

You could not speak, but he knew what you wanted to say. The way your hand tightened around his and the way your eyes shone as you met his gaze were enough answers for him.

I’m ready to love Tell me, can we stay together? Can we stay together? I’m a fool of love for you My heart by your side forever, by your side forever My feelings grew after I met   you Just friends that’s  not enough for  me First time feeling my heart race Never thought it’d beat so fast All I wanna do is run away Cause you are my escape Love has no limit, I want an answer Already know, yeah That expression lost in thought My secret recipe to make you feel better The moment my eyes saw you Everything’s clear No need to say a word First time feeling my heart race Never thought it’d beat so fast All I wanna do is run away Cause you are my escape Just need you to be ready With each passing day My emotions keep growing I don’t wanna waste any more I want to run for you Run away to the other side of the world Take my hand Still I run away Trust me now To fill my heart to the top Like you're short of breath (let me) You give me purpose

The trip in NYC was nothing short of magical. It was beautiful to have been able to spend time with them, but most especially Wonwoo. You weren't sure about what was going on with the two of you just yet, and somehow it started to scare you how much deeper you were falling for him. It was an oath you swore to yourself before - to not fall in love with the people you were working with, especially the artists. It was impossible not to, you finally realised, especially with how things naturally played out with you and Wonwoo. 

Instead of focusing on that however, you occupied yourself with preparations for the fourth season of Bon Voyage and had not visited the studio for nearly two months. Aside from how busy you were, you also went to New Zealand to film with BTS hence you were also not around for the first shows they had for Ode to You tour.

Your jampacked schedule did not mean that your mind was completely rid of Wonwoo. He was able to infiltrate your thoughts and emotions throughout - sending you food and coffee in your office, calling during odd hours of day to ask how you were, or even sending random selcas with the members. You missed being with him for sure, and those silly things made you yearn for him.

One thing that stuck to you however, was when you received a call late in September, few days before your scheduled return. They were filming the 2019 Camping TTT that time and you weren't sure why your phone rang at nearly midnight. Seeing his name on the screen however, you perked up.

"Hello?"

"M-miss you so much." He slurred, followed by a hiccup. Your breath hitched.

"Hey, Won. You okay?"

"N-no."

"Why? What happened?"

"You forgot about me already." Despite the static on the line, you could hear the slight pout with the way he whined. 

"I would never." You chuckled, "wait, are you drunk?"

"Lovedrunk. Yes. With you."

"Wonwoo —"

You could not even finish your question when the line dropped.

You were dumbfounded. Would he even remember what be said once he woke up the following day? Those thoughts keep you awake that night. 

-

As scheduled, you came back after nearly two months of being MIA in the Caratland to produce the SVT Playground episode of Going Seventeen which was one of the goofiest episodes they enjoyed filming - simple and innocent, a trip down memory lane. It was a chance for them to be young again and forget the heavy weight of their stardom despite the cameras around.

For you and Wonwoo, however, it was the game changer. 

While you grew closer than ever even before, something shifted with the way Wonwoo treated you since New York and that phone call the previous week. He became a little more gentle, softer, and more thoughtful with you. On the other hand, the sweet gestures became bolder and more noticeable. The way he stared at you lingered without him trying to hide it and there was a new spark in his eyes whenever he did so. The tone of his voice when talking to you turned sweeter, flirtier, even.

That day, he became more intentional with his display of affection either by tucking your hair behind your ears or wrapping an arm around your shoulders or waist for no reasons at all. Those gestures, while not not new, developed gradually over the past months that you did not even notice them becoming more apparent. Not until New York. Not until that playground day when you felt it so deep.

Adding to your dilemma about your feelings, Jeonghan and Seungcheol were also actively watching the turn of events. They had always known about it, so as the other members who were close to the two of you, while you and Wonwoo try to mask or avoid your feelings.

"What's with you and Wonu?" The leader asked teasingly during the filming break, flashing his gummy smile and wiggling his brows. "He finally confessed?"

"Huh?" You cocked your head in confusion.

Seungcheol and Jeonghan burst out laughing, shaking their heads and looking at each other as if sharing an inside joke, and you reckoned they might be aware of that drunk call Wonwoo made. 

"Eeeeeyy, you both need to come to your senses. It's been more than a year of you trying to deny how whipped you both are for each other." Jeonghan casually remarked before they went back filming when the director called their attention. You scolded yourself. Were you really that obvious? 

As you watched the during the filming, you could not help but be drawn towards Wonwoo – his laugh, his whiny pouts, his voice, and even the way he ran to you whenever he had the chance to, pretending to get candies or drink water or seek assistance in putting on eye-drops - all these just so he can get close you.

You couldn't help but think about how since you met over a year ago, he has always been present and always ensured you felt it. Your natural chemistry was obvious to everyone around you, but somehow, you both refused to acknowledge it.

That day changed it, though. The butterflies and racing heartbeat were abiding throughout the day.

Remembering how he held your hand in New York only sealed the obvious truth you were trying to avoid for months.

It finally dawned to you that you had plummeted. Your walls completely crumbled down and you were left defenceless, all for and because of Wonwoo.

-

Majority of the team members and staff went home once you arrived in the building after the shoot, but you stayed inside your dark office, working on some of your ideas for the next content and pulling another all-nighter. You wanted to finish it, as you were going to be busy with some filming preparations in line with upcoming documentary for SVT you would be co-producing.

While you were preoccupied with your work, Wonwoo noticed your office door ajar with lights still open and he knew there could only be one reason. He bid goodbye to Joshua who was walking with him saying he'd follow in the carpark and the man nonchalantly agreed, leaving Wonwoo alone.

Wonwoo entered the studio discreetly, seeing you ever busy typing your notes, talking to yourself with eyes laser focused on the screen. He always loved watching you in your element, so fascinating how your mind works he would often say. He even bought you a wireless mechanical keyboard to help you when typing away your ideas so that it would be easier and more comfortable. That was just another excuse of course, he bought it because it matches his gaming keyboard and you once told him you love the click-clacks of it. He hoped that somehow, he'd cross your mind even when you are working. He reached his goal - you carry that keyboard and think about him everywhere you work.

He leaned against the door frame for quite some time just admiring your unwavering strength and passion before sneaking behind you like a cat that he is. Placing a hand on your shoulder, he spoke softly, "Aren't you leaving yet?"

You jumped in surprise as you felt his warm hands against you, "You scared me!" You shrieked, playfully punching him as you clenched your chest with your other hand.

"Ah! Sorry, sorry." He snickered, pulling the other chair to sit beside you and you locked your laptop hide the script you were working on for the next special episode.

"Why are you still here? Have the others left?"

"Mhm, they did. How long are you staying?" He inquired, already reaching for his phone from his pocket with his eyes never leaving yours. "I'll wait for you. I can text Shua-hyung to go ahead, he is waiting for me."

You tilted your head, puzzled, "Why? You should go, it was a long day. You have early shoot tomorrow, too."

Wonwoo just shook his head. There was that unspoken connection and understanding built between you since you met. Both of you are intuitive individuals, and you both see through things than what meets the eye, perhaps that's why you mesh well. His warm eyes searched yours as if conveying things he could not muster just yet. "I'll stay and wait. No matter how long it takes."

There was a pregnant pause, the air thinning as your heart pounded against your chest. You wanted to assume it was just about waiting for you and nothing else, but his deep voice and the sincerity behind it was too serious. "How sweet of you, Won, but Joshua's waiting and you need to rest, too." Your voice was gentle, but there was a little quiver as you tried steadying it despite how he was making you feel.

"Eh, but I want to be here with you." His perfect lips puckered into an adorable pout as he whined, eyes twinkling under the warm dimmed light of the office as they remained glued to you. "You can't convince me otherwise."

You beamed. Like a complete idiot.

Your inner lady laughed hysterically at just how insane Wonwoo drives you no matter what he does.

"Wonwoo, you need to go home. Your managers will kill me if they found out you stayed here." You insisted, pressing a hand on his forearm as if to comfort him, and he felt your warmth through the sweatshirt he was wearing. "I'll be fine, I promise."

He sighed, finally surrendering to your request. "One condition then..." he paused and turned your swivel chair so you could face him completely. You saw that glint in his eyes - a hint of teasing mischief that eventually shifted into something warm, like fuel coaxing embers to burst into flames.

"Fine. What is it?"

The tension was palpable and your voice barely came out as you tried grounding yourself when he dragged your chair closer. He did not answer you just yet, instead with an intense gaze, he started leaning towards you, nose brushing against yours as you froze in your seat. 

"This."

He hushed, and before he chickened out, pressed his soft lips against yours.

Your breathing ceased.

The world paused.

There was nothing but silence and the pounding of both your hearts.

The fireworks show in NYC was no match against the fireworks going off in your head that moment.

It was all surreal until you felt his trembling hand ever so gently cupping your face. The surge of emotions was brimming as you withdrew slowly, eyes wide at what just transpired. You blinked rapidly, trying to wake yourself up from the beautiful dream or delusion that it was.

But it wasn't a dream. Nor was it a delusion.

It was all real.

He was there, lips curled up in his signature grin while caressing your face with yearning. His raised cheeks were turning red and the ashen colour of his hair only emphasized the glow that painted his features. He was enchanting yet so real at the same time and you could never fathom how it was even possible. 

"H-hi." He stuttered followed a breathy laugh and you could not help but meet him halfway the next time he dipped his head and captured your lips in a conversation without words.

He kissed you with such tenderness and longing - the soft petals of his lips slotted between yours so delicately that it caused shivers to run throughout your whole being. He brought you closer by the back of your head, deepening the kiss, enough to allow you to taste each other.

The kiss was sweet, in all senses of that word. He tasted of sugar and mixed berries from all the candies he consumed during the filming, and you tasted exactly like the cherry-cola popsicle you had upon arrival at the office. The exchange was loving yet so fearless and innocent, like one's very first kiss, only 100x better.

"You had too many candies today," You whispered against his lips, eyes still closed as you both chuckled. You heart was burning inside and you were certain he could feel it, with how steady he seemed to be.

"I can say the same." His lips curled into smirk then chased yours for a few more pecks before finally pulling away reluctantly, looking in your eyes as you both burst out giggling like teenagers.

"Now go." You ordered, face still flushed from the exchange and Wonwoo nodded, his lips pressed together tightly to suppress the smile he couldn't wipe off his face. No matter how much he tried, however, the corners of his lips and his cheekbones did not cooperate.

When he finally found his strength, he stood towering over you and leaned in, stealing one last kiss then running towards the door giddily.

"I'll go. Good night."

"Good night." You called back, suppressing the intense emotions that threatened to spill.

Wonwoo got to the car grinning ear to ear. Joshua, ever so observant, noticed the younger man's reaction but when he asked, Wonwoo just shrugged and said it was nothing and pretended to scroll through his phone.

It was something. Definitely something huge, enough to make his heart pound against his ribcage as if he had just run a marathon.

You on the other hand, were left in the studio, still in daze and doubting your sanity. You were only able to process it once you reached home, squealing like a lovesick 15y/o in the plush kitten he gave you not long ago.

The next time you saw Wonwoo was only few days later from that night, during a particularly busy day in October two days before their scheduled Japan trip for Ode to You in which you will be present, as you were the producer of their docu-series content.

That special filming was for the first ever Don't Lie episode. They were all ecstatic and surprised throughout the entire day of filming, cameras rolling around as they tried to find the treasure and the mafia. You headed the whole production, monitoring the cameras and watching how they were losing their minds over the whole concept.  

Wonwoo should be focused on the game but could not take his eyes off you. You were the main producer that day, busy giving instructions to members seeking clarity about the rules or checking the flow of the game and filming with the directors. The way your eyes glistened as you sipped your favourite strawberries and cream frappe while running around one place to another captured his attention. He thought of how your lips would taste and how cold it would be against his, wondering whether it would be like that first time few nights ago. That was when he felt it again, the tug in his chest that seemed to always happen whenever you were together, which only intensified from that perfect kiss you shared. It was so powerful that day that he felt he could no longer waste time – he was finally ready to verbalize it, hoping that you felt the same way.

"Wonu couldn't take his eyes off you. How can he find the treasure then?" Jeonghan chuckled as you both watched Wonwoo searching every nook and cranny of the area after Jeonghan was voted out by the team. 

"Shut up, you mafia. His eyesight is poor, he could not see me from here."

You took a long sip, trying to ignore the teasing from your friend but who were you kidding? His teasing was impossible to ignore, especially when you and Wonwoo still had not talked about the kiss and just casually greeted each other when the filming started. Your mind floated back to earlier that day, when Wonwoo found yet another way to make your heart flutter like he always does.

The weather was already changing - the air was colder that day as the season transitioned, and it was common knowledge that Wonwoo could not stand the cold. Like a proper excuse, Wonwoo found himself next to you while you were walking towards the main shooting area, lacing your hands together sneakily yet so casually. You gasped and turned your head towards him, raising your brows to question what he was doing but he just gave you a sly smirk, "Why? You know my hands easily get cold and yours are the perfect heat packs."

What a silly but perfect excuse, you thought. You shook your head in disbelief, hiding the fluttering of your heart and the stupid grin that painted your face. He noticed everything, though, and he loved it, too much that he pulled you even closer to him.  

"Trust me, his eyesight is 20/20 when it comes to you. See?" Jeonghan added and proving his point, the gorgeous 6ft tall man sauntered towards you. He was so on theme that day, donning an all-black outfit from his shirt and ripped jeans matched with a leather jacket and a pair of combat boots. He looked dangerous to begin with and even more so when he nonchalantly leaned to take a sip from your drink as his almond eyes met yours in a gentle, but teasing stare-down.

"You found the treasure?" You taunted but he just smirked and shook his head, making you reach out and fix the hair from his forehead.

"Ugh, get a room you two." Jeonghan grimaced, leaving the two of you in the corner lost in you own bubble once more.

"Not yet, the mafias are good and I've searched the whole place already! Give me a hint, babe. I'll split the cash and treat you dinner." Wonwoo casually offered, with pleading eyes. He looked so handsome you could melt but more than that, you did not miss the way he said 'babe' as if it was the most natural thing to call you.

"Not a chance," you shook your head before stealing your drink away from him and sipping, pushing him to go back to his hunt as the remaining time was announced.

The shoot ended with loud laughs and betrayals from the team, the mafias won the prize but it was Wonwoo who seemed a little too happy even when he lost, grinning ear to ear when you agreed to have dinner with him.

It was not the first time you went out alone, you were mainly in the studio or the normal bar you also frequented with Bangtan whenever you guys were out for a drink, one that guaranteed privacy. This time however, Wonwoo wanted something different. He took you out for a drive towards Namsan Mountain, both of you holding Styrofoam cups of piping hot stew and some grilled pork belly you ordered, and even some soju to enjoy at the back of his crossover van. You created a makeshift camping space with picnic cloth and some pillows you borrowed from the studio as you shared your meal while looking over the amazing view from above through the open door of the van.

"You are amazing, you know that? How did you even come up with that idea?" He mumbled, looking at you in the eyes as if utterly mesmerized by you.

You let out a soft snicker as you recalled the ruckus from the day and as he laughed at the things that transpired. It was like that until you both finished your meals and the ice cream you bought from the booth nearby. You just casually talked about everything... except for the one thing you both should be talking about. "I am a producer for a reason. And I enjoy watching you all lose your minds." 

The cityscape glimmered before your eyes as cold winds brushed against your skin. The both of you leaned back against the pillows with his head resting against your shoulder. It was peaceful and quiet, and there was such comfortable silence between you as you watched the flickering of the city lights while his favourite ballads played in the background through the car's stereo. 

"You were right you, know." Wonwoo's deep voice broke through the soft melody in the background and you could feel it through you.

"About what?"

"You've become my favourite."

"Producer?" You smirked.

"No. Person." Wonwoo declared with certainty, his trembling hands reaching for yours, fiddling with your hand before slotting his fingers between the spaces of yours. "You're my favourite person."

"Won -" What he uttered and they way he held your hand truly caught you off guard and rendered you speechless.

"I have fallen for you since the moment you noticed I measure my meat and rice ratio at every bite." He paused, thumb brushing at the back of your hand as he craned his head and met your eyes. "I am not good with words, but this, I am certain of. And that kiss, I felt it, you know..."

"Felt what?"

"That I may have a chance. We may have a chance."

You were wonderstruck at his confession. Your heart was bursting at the seams as you looked at the man who held your trembling frame one summer night when you were at your breaking point, the man who always asked whether you've eaten and went above and beyond to order you food or coffee, the man who paid attention to every little shifts in your mood, the man who stayed up late with you in the studio after long days of practice so you'd have company, and the man who since you met, has been a steady presence, grounding you and being your safety net.

"I want to try, Y/N. I feel like we've been holding back for so long." He added, shifting to face you as you did the same, hand twined in his as you both searched each other's eyes. "Let's allow ourselves to be happy, unless of course I read things wrong."

Wonwoo had never felt such way with anyone else before. While of course he had been attracted to other people, it was different with you – deeper and more serious than whatever silly crush he had prior. He felt safe and secure with you. He felt seen, valued, and listened to even though he normally prefers to be in the background. He finally had someone he was excited to share his stories with outside of the members and his family. He finally had someone to be silly with and someone to tell him that it's okay if he's not the best cook. He finally found the person he'd want to learn how to cook for. He found someone who taught him how to better communicate and supported him as he continues to discover himself and find his footing. He found rest in you. He found his person, so unexpectedly. He found you and he could not let you go, never without trying, especially not now.

Your eyes glimmered with pure astonishment, "You're my favourite person, too. Ever since you asked me who was I the first time we formally met." You chuckled at the memory, watching his smile grow and seeing wheels turning in his head. Then there was silence, a meeting of eyes before his gaze trailed towards your lips and then back to your eyes. There was that unspoken understanding floating mid-air, hidden beneath your soft smiles and withheld breaths.

"But —"

The moment you broke the quiet, he cut off your words as he swiftly drew you in, lips moulding with yours in a fearless, loving kiss.

"No more buts." He muttered ever so steadily, grazing his teeth against your lower lip.

You finally let your guards down and wrapped your arms around him, seizing such perfect moment and tucking that core memory inside the corners your mind for safekeeping.

He was right, no more buts were needed.

All your fears and apprehensions vanished as you allowed yourself to savour the moment. You'd deal with worries some other time. That moment, all that mattered was the two of you.

The two of you.

Finally.

It was perfect.

You made this song who I am And here you come Three, two, one Want to give everything If I can just have you Won't let them break your heart, oh, no Without you, I'm nothing No words are enough for you Want to write it lyrical So let me read and write my emotions through you I just want to love you Alone I don't want to leave you I just want you, I need you The night is short, can't take you for granted I tell you, this time I wanna rock with you Moonlight tonight, shine on you Tonight, I wanna ride with you Wherever we go Baby, hold on, baby, hold on (Wherever we are) Baby, hold on, baby, hold on (No matter whеre we are) Evеn if the world is ending, I wanna ride with you I'm running for you Do anything for you Just you 'til my last breath No words are enough for you Want to keep it melodical So let me listen to all your emotions Fall into your eyes Every moment is pointing to you All I ever need is you Take nothing for granted, you're all I got Won't let them break your heart, oh, no Anywhere Baby, hold on, baby, hold on (Wherever we are) Baby, hold on, baby, hold on (No matter where we are) Even if the world is ending I wanna rock with you I wanna stay with you

ODE TO YOU 2019 - JAPAN LEG

Japan has got to be one of Wonwoo's favourite places ever. He can always be free there, despite their stardom and fame in the country. Their Japanese fanbase is one of their best fanbases - respectful and always mindful of boundaries.

The band has always been eager in ensuring they are able to provide the best show for their fans, and the first nights proved just how loved the boys were – the shows were a massive success, and despite how tight and busy their schedules were, they all genuinely enjoyed it.

During that month, you were involved behind the camera, producing parts of their documentary Hit the Road and capturing behind the scene footages for the DVD release of the said tour. Whenever they did not have shows, they had guestings, photoshoots, and other press conferences. It was only when November came that they got time off for themselves to breathe and relax after the last show in Yokohama and before the shows in Chiba commenced.

It was a restless month for them, so naturally, you became not only a producer, but also a friend they ran to with whenever they were restless and needed to vent. Your hotel room became haven to the members, either as a place to rest and bond over alcohol, or wailing wall. You always understood. Your presence made a huge difference to the members, but most especially to Wonwoo.

--

Wonwoo had planned his days off for a long time already, even prior his confession. He ensured you would be free from work during his time-off too. Like a practical man that he has always been, Wonwoo planned out your official date like how you would a production schedule - detailed and precise. He asked you to pack for a 3-day trip, a surprise he said, and that you would be leaving by midnight to catch your flight to Osaka. Even the the flight schedule was well thought off, ensuring your privacy was a priority. He was eager to enjoy this trip with you. It had been a month since you officially started dating but you weren't able to properly go out as a couple yet. Both of you were thrilled to have such chance and were looking forward to having an amazing time together, away from the teasing of the members.

With eager feet and sleepy eyes, you travelled to the airport, arriving right on time to catch the hour and a half flight to Osaka. You landed and settled in your hotel at around 3:00AM, with just enough time to sleep and rest before you itinerary. It was your first time to spend the night together away from your friends, but due to just how tired you both were, it was not something you immediately realised. After washing up, you went to bed and succumbed to sleep as you held each other for warmth, recharging both of your energies for your activities later that day.

The blaring alarm and the sun peeking through the curtain woke you up that morning, still buried under the duvet and hugging a pillow tight while you tried wake yourself up. As you stirred, you reached out towards your beau, missing the warmth he emitted, only to find nothing. You pried your eyes open to see the empty bed and that was when you heard the door closed and his footsteps slowly approaching. Your stomach growled in hunger as the smell of  Japanese pancakes, egg rolls, and coffee permeated the air and invaded your senses.

"Good morniiiing." He mumbled in his cute little sing-song voice and accent before he placed the tray by the bed and joined you, "Breakfast in bed."

You thought you might have been dreaming. How can someone like him be your boyfriend? You might have done something good in your past life to deserve him. You were dreamy as you looked at him, inviting him your arms for warm hug to thank him. "You're the best."

"I know," Wonwoo smirked and peppered your face with kisses as he rubbed your back. "Let's eat, we need to leave soon."

Your brow raised in curiosity, "Where are we off to?"

"It's my secret."

The man winked at you. Winked! No matter how long it has been since you first met, his gestures like that could still make you lose your shit.

-

Wonwoo took it upon himself to drive the rented car to your destination, looking ever so flawless with a hand on the steering wheel and the other on yours. You had been bugging him to tell you where you were headed but he just smirked at you, insisting it was a surprise until you saw it. Universal Studios. Wizarding World. A place you've always wanted to visit. You were gobsmacked. 

Your heart fluttered at the soft smile and gaze he gave you, "This is our first official date and I want you to remember it. You ready?" He asked ever so confidently, and you could only squeal and lean in to kiss him, and he was quick to return it.

"Let's go!" He exclaimed, both of you hopping off the car to start your adventure. You suddenly felt nervous, however, realizing he was not wearing a mask, and anyone might recognize him with that blue hair and face card on display. You were about to speak when he shook his head as if he already assumed what you were about to say, "I am not hiding. There is no need to. Let us enjoy this day, yeah?"

Encouraged by his boldness, you nodded, holding out your hand towards him, "I am sure we will."

The autumn air was crisp and cool against your skin while you soaked up the atmosphere of the park. Everything was indeed magical but it was made even better with your Wonwoo by your side.

He kept smiling at you, revelling in your squeals of excitement at everything you were seeing. He had always known just how much of a fan of the franchise you are, and seeing you enjoying this made his heart full. His efforts in making it possible were immediately rewarded by your enthusiasm.

You took photos by the entrance of the park and the Hogwarts Express, and both your competitive edge in photography were on full display. It was habit you both have whenever you were out in new places, exploring your creative sides through the lenses while being each other's supporter-slash-critic. 

After the stroll by the entrance, you visited one of the shops to buy robes and scarves of your Hogwarts houses, and the wand that you can use within the the theme park. That was a must in the park, and you definitely would not miss that to complete the experience.

The shop welcomed you with warmth and the lovely smell of parchment and fabric. You busied yourself find your robes and scarves, and assisted Wonwoo in wearing his. With the height difference, you stood on your tiptoes to wrap the blue and bronze scarf around his neck as a final touch. Sneakily, his arms encircled your waist and he pecked your lips making you blush furiously, squealing on the inside.

"Oh look it matches your hair, love." You marvelled, pushing him towards the mirror so he can look at himself. "Oh, my handsome Ravenclaw." You sighed dreamily, watching him fix his glasses and wave his wand, pretending to cast a spell.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

"It's LeviOOOsa, not LeviosAAA."

You mimicked the famous scene and both of you burst out in fits of giggles as he in turn helped you with your house scarf. He put the soft fabric around your neck, fixed your hair afterwards, and then used the scarf to playfully haul you close so he can steal another bold kiss which surprised you.

"Someone might see us!" You gasped, looking around the store to check whether there was anyone around who could see or potentially be filming you despite the both of you being in a secluded part of the store. Thankfully, it was a weekday, not a peak season, and not many people were around.

Wonwoo just chuckled, "Relax! No one's here." He leaned in once more for another sweet, lingering peck that made the lady inside you somersault.

Wonwoo did not need any spell, he alone can leave you enchanted.

You spent the day walking around the park, taking photos and videos of the sights, and trying out the rides. Wonwoo was ever so professional whenever you took his photos and in hindsight it looked as though he was just filming another content. You thought somehow that should any rumour come out, it would be best for people to assume that it was just for content, you got enough footage and photos to release something if it comes to that anyway.

However, the way Wonwoo held you close or laced your fingers or even pressed soft kisses on your forehead were giveaway that it was a personal trip. And that you weren't just a producer. You were never big on PDA, you like to hold hands or share drinks but never too comfortable to show affection whenever you were around other people, but somehow, the magical place and how surprisingly quiet the theme park was made you braver in expressing sweeter gestures. You both allowed yourself to revel in that bliss of being together in such a magical place.

You were on an all time high, heart fluttering ceaselessly as Wonwoo made your dream not only possible but also memorable. You were unsure how he made all these arrangements despite how busy you both were the past months. He just winked when you asked him saying, "I am Wonwoo, love."

Before the end of your tour, you spent time around Diagon Alley shopping for souvenirs for your friends while drinking your 3rd glass of butterbeer that day. The fizzy drink was sugary sweet that it reminded you of your first kiss. You internally laughed, remembering that moment and how shy the both of you turned after the sudden moment.

"Why?" Wonwoo asked you, as if sensing how you were feeling or thinking.

"Nothing." You shook your head and finished your beverage, your boyfriend laughing as he wiped the foam off the corners of your lips.

"Did I do well, love?"

"Hm, very well indeed."

Little did you know, Wonwoo was also thinking the same as he gazed over your every feature. His mind wandered to that first kiss inside the secrecy of your studio and how things transformed since. While you were still the same hardworking, caring producer looking after them, you became a pillar of strength for him, a home he always yearns for and goes back to. Seeing you happy and surrounded by the things you love seemed to have further developed his understanding of how utterly in love with you he is. The moment when you gushed about the famous quote, "After all this time? Always.", he made it a personal mission to make you feel his love and how grateful he is of you, always.

The streets were already dark and the show by the castle was already starting by the time you completed your shopping. All the other guests were busy running towards the show while the two of you took your time. Really letting go of his fears, Wonwoo seized the opportunity and grabbed you by your waist when you reached a darker alley in the park. Laughing, you both sneaked in towards a slightly hidden side of it until Wonwoo pinned your back against the brick wall and swiftly dipped you into an ardent kiss. You were taken aback by the suddenness of his action but kissed him back with reckless abandon, tasting the butterscotch flavour from his lips as he deepened the kiss. Soft whimpers left your lips as you clutched onto his scarf, lost in delight as his arms snaked tighter around your waist to prevent you from escaping.

You did not know how much time passed when you parted and he stared at you. He looked so sinful like that - lips red and plump from the kiss curled up in a smirk. Breathing heavily, he mumbled with his gruff voice, "Let's go back to the hotel."

Your knees buckled.

-

Surprisingly, the both of you managed to still have dinner at the hotel restaurant despite how tension filled the car ride back was. The meal helped ease both of your nerves after that sneaky make-out session you had in the park under the moonlight, but it still did not completely take away the unspoken truth - you both wanted each other.

The moment you entered your room, the air shifted. Wonwoo shoved the door close and caged you against it, lips covering yours in heaps of kisses. Before it led any further however, you paused and panted for air, "We need to wash up." A small chuckle escaped as he groaned and nodded, taking all the energy to pull away and rush towards the bathroom, leaving you breathless, in daze, and wanting.

Your head was spinning as you took a shower after he did, subconsciously spending time to ensure you were spotless and even using the best shower gel you have. You were still overwhelmed with your desire but you were also nervous - this would be your first time and there was no denying that it would finally come to that after long months of pining and waiting.

Wonwoo was no different. He was excited, nervous, and needy all at once but he wanted you for so long and could not wait any longer. Trying to calm himself down, he put on Avengers on the television while waiting for you. He needed his distractions and he hoped the superhero movie would do the trick.

About half an hour later, you finally emerged from the bathroom wearing your matching pyjamas and approached him in the couch where he was watching. You wondered how someone could look that great with bare face and glasses. So domestic. You sat beside him and he wrapped his arm around your body, holding you close to cuddle against his side. He breathed you in, your scent lulling him and waking up his desires that was sitting at bay. When you both mustered the courage to look at each other after a short while of tension filled silence, he tilted your head by your chin so he can continue what you both started earlier.

Wonwoo's kisses were searing and full of desire, his arms engulfing you closer until you found yourself straddling him as need simmered inside you. He traced open kisses against your jawline and the sweet spots of your neck, until his warm breath grazed your ear as he nibbled your earlobe.

"I want you..." He whispered seductively. His eyes were dark, pupils dilated as he stared intently at you, "...need you."

The dulcet tone of his voice had you reeling. There wasn't a need to convince you. You were already a beautiful mess, ready for his loving. 

"I am all yours." 

"Let's take this to bed, I am not about to have on a couch for our first time." He chuckled softly as you both stood, his lips still glued to yours as you stumbled towards the bedroom. 

He sat by the edge of the bed and yanked you by your arm to have you on top of him. He drew you in for endless kisses, his teeth tugged on your lower lip as his hands roamed around your body, snaking inside your shirt to feel your skin. His touch was electric, making you shiver and imagine just how good he would feel touching you where you needed him to. He bruised your lips with his, drinking you up as if you were water and he was parched.

You fumbled with the buttons of his pyjama shirt, pushing it off his broad shoulders as your hand splayed along every perfect contour of his body, memorizing him. Your eyes trailed from his perfect face, down to his broad shoulders, and his narrow waist. You were completely mesmerized by how perfectly sculpted he was, akin to a statue of Greek god, and you thanked all the universe for allowing you to experience such man. Wonwoo admired your patience and how pleased you look gazing at him, but enough was enough for him. He could not wait any longer. So while you were ever gentle and patient with your actions, the man effortlessly ripped your pyjama shirt open, buttons popping out as your bareness was revealed to him, finally.

His mouth fell agape at the sight of your body for the first time ever. He imagined it for so long but to be in that moment was surreal for him. Your insides were turning into molten lava with the way he was looking at you with intentional seduction and awe while he caressed every inch of your body and brought you closer so your skin pressed firmly against his.

"You're so beautiful." He whispered, and despite the lust-filled look in his eyes, he was genuine. He caressed your supple skin as he kissed you, tongue parting your lips as if seeking entrance which you granted as you fought for dominance. He traced kisses towards the sensitive areas of your neck, down to the valley of your breasts as his hand cupped and toyed with your buds. He took one in his mouth, sucking and licking and turning his attention to the other, eliciting a rather loud groan from you.

"Oh gosh..." You were already tingling with pleasure and he hadn't done much yet. You keened in anticipation and need but Wonwoo took his sweet, sweet time with you, marking you in places only he can see. You could feel his breathing becoming heavier as you moved to ever slowly grind against his growing member to alleviate the ache in your core and allow him to feel your warm centre.

Wonwoo was lost in the moment, utterly drawn towards the scent of your skin and how you feel against his body. Your every sound and reaction was enough to drive him crazy, sending adrenaline to course through him as you both found each other in a battle of lips, teeth, and tongue. At one point his glasses became skewed, making the two of you laugh in between the flurry of hungry kisses shared.

"Take your glasses off." You mumbled, tugging on his lower lip and reaching to remove it, but he swiftly grabbed your wrist to prevent you from doing so.

"No." He said simply and quickly maneuvered the two of you so your back hit the bed as he slowly shifted downwards, his eyes fixed on yours behind those thick lenses. "I want to be able to see you clearly."

The laughter quickly dissipated as he once again pressed his lips against your skin, paying attention to every inch of you until he reached your waistband.

"May I?" He asked and you nodded, biting your lower lip and preparing yourself for his next move.

"I want to hear you say it," He mumbled against your skin like a predator playing with his victim before prowling and devouring it. You rolled your eyes playfully trying to mask your crumbling exterior but it was so impossible when he was so close to your core.

"Please touch me..." You let out and, in a blink, Wonwoo peeled off the remaining fabric covering you. His gaze darkened at the sight of your whole body on display for him under the dimmed lights of the room. Blood rushed to your cheeks and you suddenly got conscious causing you to press your thighs together instinctively but he shook his head disapprovingly before prying your thighs apart, gently.

"Love, you're incredible. Don't you ever hide from me." He held such gentle dominance as he looked into your eyes. He placed searing kisses from your knees towards your inner thighs, until he reached your core slick with arousal which made him curse under his breath. You throbbed with need as his warm breath brushed over your sensitive areas, touching you everywhere except where you need him.

"Tell me what you want, darling." Wonwoo commanded, drifting away your core and hovering over you.

"You... please..."

"You have to be specific, baby..." He teased you relentlessly, fingers snaking from your chests to tease and tweak your pebbled buds before he moved towards your aching core.

"Touch me." Your brows furrowed as you looked at him with pleading eyes, body squirming beneath him as his long fingers started circling your sensitive, swollen nub down to your slit.

"Like this?"

"Fuck!" You breathed out, hips lifting to meet his deft fingers. A devilish smirk tugged on his lips, watching every nuance of your expression that was enough to make him even harder.

"You're dripping... I want you to feel good, babe." His competitiveness was on display as he plunged his digits inside you, feeling your velvety walls as you trembled in pleasure. "You like that?" He whispered, shifting to kiss you deeply as he drew his fingers in and out of your wet cave while his thumb worked on your clit. The pleasure you were feeling was incomprehensible that moment, completely lost at the feeling of his skillful fingers driving you to the edge of release.

"Oh Wonwoo... babe..."

"I want you to come for me baby."

Wonwoo dipped his head towards your breast, taking your bud into his warm mouth and cajoled. You gasped heavily, drunk in lust as his fingers curled while he licked, sucked, and nibbled your taut nipples, completely sending you wailing as you climaxed around his fingers. He watched your orgasm for the first time ever -- lips parted, brows knitted, breath ragged -- you were hypnotizing. If your walls felt that amazing around his fingers what more his cock and the thought alone made him twitch.

He was throbbing with need to be buried inside you but he was far from over. While you were still catching the remnants of your orgasm, Wonwoo was already shifting downwards until you felt his mouth and tongue devouring your sweet release. With loud moans, you reached towards him, fingers gripping on his blue locks as he forced your hips down and continued his relentless ministrations.

"Holy shit, Wonwoo..." You whimpered, quivering as you felt another orgasm ripping through you as his wicked tongue drew circles around your clit and sucked, while his fingers entered you once more, massaging that sweet spot inside your walls until you quaked from his stimulation.

"Fucking h-hell..."

"Was it good, baby? You okay?" He asked, brow rising in full curiosity as if he was taking notes mentally.

"Are you kidding me?!"

You both giggled, drunk in each other as you pulled him towards you and wiped his glistening lips and chin, not without apologising how messy it was. Heaps of your clothing were discarded on the floor and you were left with no barriers separating you. The feeling of your warm skin against each other caused sheer delight and comfort and lust all at the same time. You admired all of him, such a work of art from head to toe, hand snaking down and tracing all his perfect ridges. You palmed his sizable length as you looked him in the eye, feeling him grow further and harder. 

"Do you want me to." You asked, already trying to manoeuvre downwards before he shook his head.

"I'd fucking love to, but I can't baby, I won't last long." He admitted, a soft chuckle breaking between you as he pinned you back to the bed. "I need you bad... can I have you now...please?"

"Yes... please..."

Ever so prepared, he had a condom ready on top of the bedside cabinet which he reached out for and ripped the packet using his teeth. You were dying in anticipation as you watched him kneeling between your thighs, his trembling, eager hands trying to roll the rubber around his long, hard shaft but it kept on slipping. "Aish!" He grumbled and you both burst out laughing at his struggle. You took it from him and helped him with it, his teeth buried in his lower lip as he groaned at the feel of your warm hands stroking his aching cock after you wrapped him successfully. Your mind was completely in daze as your handsome man braced himself on the either side of your head and leaned to kiss you, aligning his length against your core before he glided through your wet folds, feeling your warm, slick pleasure coat him through the condom as he teased and prepped you for his length.

Wonwoo smiled gently at you as if he was not just teasing you. His honeyed gaze met yours, taking everything in that moment before whispering, "I love you so much."

"I love you, too."

You encircled your arms around his broad shoulders and he kissed you fervently, tongue diving deep as he lined his cock towards your opening. He pulled away just enough to look into your eyes while he, with one swift thrust, impaled you completely. Fully.

"Fuck baby!"

"Oh Won — babe!"

Both of you groaned in unison at that first delicious stretch. Wonwoo paused to ensure you were okay, only to be rewarded by your nodding and legs wrapping around him. Wonwoo fit you perfectly, like lock and key, made for each other. He smirked, and then he drew out and drove forward, again and again, building up the rhythm and intensity of his thrusts. Your warm walls gave him an in-drawing sensation everytime he pulled out and your loud mewl signalled that he was hitting that special part inside you.

"There?" He asked, memorizing the way you respond at every angle as his huge cock breached your walls repeatedly.

"Yes baby... fuck... keep going!" You breathed out, fingers tugging his hair so you could kiss him as he plowed into your depths.

"You feel so fucking good around me me, baby."

Your loud moans matched each other as he felt the tight pleasure of your core, feeling you pulse and clamp around his length. His deep voice resonated in your head, so erotic as he buried his face in the crook of your neck while his cock throbbed inside you. He bucked his hips upwards with varying yet precise intensity as if trying to mark and claim you as his. The harmonies of your moans and grunts, along with the creaking of the bed and skin slapping filled the room. It was nearly impossible fathom the pleasure you both were feeling after longing for that intimate moment for so long.

As if you weren't on the verge already, Wonwoo dove down and wrapped his talented mouth around your nipple hungrily, making you shudder in delight. You clawed at the broad planes of his back as you gyrated your hips to meet his every thrust, contracting around his length as he bucked deeper and harder each time.

"I am so close - fuck baby." He grunted as he moved with vigor and eagerness, chasing his high and encouraging yours.

"Holy shit - me too -"

Every cell of your body was on fire as he snaked his hand down, rubbing your sensitive clit. His lips found yours and with few more thrusts, sent you closer and closer to your white bliss.

"With me, baby. Cum with me..." He whispered, slamming into you hard and you both spiralled into your glorious, mind-numbing orgasm, cursing and wailing each other's name. You felt his length twitch inside you as he came while your walls clenched around him, milking every last drop of his sweet ecstacy. He was unsure how such insurmountable pleasure was possible. It was nowhere near his imagination as he watched you quaking underneath him as you both reached your climax.

"Oh baby..." You chased his lips with sweet, open-mouthed kisses as he rested his forehead against yours while he tried to steady himself. You continued the gentle movements as you rode out your climax, feeling every perfect sensation and every remnant of the mind-blowing explosion.

He panted heavily, nuzzling against your skin before finding the will to finally pull out of you as he kissed you gently few minutes later. He rolled your body on top of him and engulfed you in his arms as you slowly drifted back to earth. He cupped your face, wiped the streak of pleasure-filled tear that cascaded your cheek, and kissed you ever so gently in contrast of how he did earlier.

You traced soft circles against his skin as you both fully regained your senses and breathing, and suddenly found yourself chortling in drunken pleasure - like you did when you had your first kiss.

"You're amazing. I love you, Y/N."

Your heart fluttered, as if it was the first time you heard him say that. It was always magical whenever he did so. He was a man who preferred actions than words, so hearing him say it always tugged your heartstrings.

"You are otherworldly, Jeon Wonwoo." You murmured and he kissed you once more, smiling against your still plump lips.

"And I love you, too. So much."

-

ODE TO YOU, 7 NOVEMBER, CHIBA

Those three days spent with Wonwoo were indeed filled with memories. You were busy with activities to rest and relax during the day while you spent the night tangled in each other intimately, making the most out of your time and somehow releasing all the pent-up desire you had for each other. By the time you had gone back to the team, Wonwoo had about 3 more days to fully rest before the start of their last 3-day show in Chiba.

The team was excited to make things memorable, given that they would be closing the Japan leg of the tour with a total of 9 shows in the country. They were all ready to roll and make the best out of their performance despite the week of rest not being enough to fully rest and recover.

All was going well until Dino had to be rushed to the hospital mid-day of their first show in Chiba due to a bad case of enteritis, causing him to not be able to participate in their show. This caused not only a massive pressure to the team having to adjust their performance and cover for Dino's absence, but also a deep-seated worry for their youngest's condition.

You entered the assembly room where the directors were briefing them as they prepared and that was when you noticed it -- they were exhausted and in pain. You knew the telltale signs, you had seen it with BTS for years and you had seen it with the team having been working with them for two years.

Most of them were being taped up and assisted by the physical therapists to avoid injuries and further strains. Seungcheol was stretching and wincing from body pains. Some were just sitting and enduring as much as they can. The endless schedule had already taken a toll on them.

Wonwoo sat quietly by the assembly room listening intently but as you monitored the footages from the camera directors, you felt something was off with him, too. Cold sweat beaded his forehead and the tremors in his hands were more noticeable than ever. He had been blotting sweat from his face more than he normally does and even the stylists had to blowdry his hair and shirt repeatedly.

It was something you could not ignore as worry started to kick your gut. You approached the stylists' table and requested a box of facial tissue from them and told them you'd take over in helping Wonwoo, given that there were a lot they still had to look after because of the delays that happened that day. They were all grateful for your help and it was not the first time you needed to step in. You did that a lot for BTS before, too.

When you approached Wonwoo, his shoulders sank and he gave you that soft, pleading gaze - those were huge warning signals that he was not at his best. At times like that even before you started officially dating, Wonwoo would lie in the couch and rest his head against a pillow on your lap, and you normally would just brush his hair with your fingers or massage his scalp. This time, though, it was not something you both could do just yet given that the show was just about to start.

"You okay? You're sweating buckets."

"I am okay, just nervous, I guess."

You smiled softly at him, folding a piece of facial tissue and pressing it into his forehead to blot off his sweat. He reached to hold one of your hands, a silent appreciation for being by his side that moment. His hand was cold and clammy and he was not always like that despite the usual tremors in his hand. He held your hand a little tighter, a little more desperate, and tugged you closer to him as if wanting to feel the warmth you emit to ease whatever storm was inside him.

"You need to take it easy today, love. All of you." You maintained a calm, soothing tone in your voice as your styled his hair to dry off some areas drenched with sweat. He closed his eyes, immediately relaxing when he felt your fingers massaging his temples and scalp as he sighed in delight.

"But Dino's not around, we need to do good."

"You are all naturally great, so try and breathe and not worry too much. Just enjoy it, yeah?"

Wonwoo nodded and smiled at you, hands remained glued to you, whether your hands or waist or anything he could reach as if drawing strength from that contact.

About 30 minutes before showtime, the director instructed them to huddle in the backstage for photos and other instructions The air was still tense, but you felt Wonwoo relax a little, until he laced your fingers together, and with a pleading look on his face, whispered, "Stay by my side."

"I am here, always." You laced your fingers tighter as your other hand gently squeezed his biceps until you reached backstage. He reluctantly pulled away, fingers lingering slightly until he already needed to join the members. "Thank you, I'll work hard."

Your bright smile and encouragement were more than enough to boost his confidence, "You got this. Fighting!"

As they got to the stage, you put your producer hat back on, monitoring the footages for the documentary and instructing the head camera director on the types of footages you want. As expected, they were all doing well, fans were enjoying, and it was just the first set. You, however, could not help but notice Wonwoo's unsual tensed, heavy breathing and that made your stomach turn. You tried busying yourself knowing that worrying would not help at all, but as always, your guts were right.

It was just as they left the stage that your heard someone calling you, your assistant producer panting for air. "PD-nim, come quick! It's Wonwoo!"

"What happened?!"

You had never sprinted that quick before in your life. Blood drained your face as you saw your boyfriend lying down on the stretcher in the brink of unconsciousness, surrounded by medics and many other people.

"Filming is not a priority now, make space." You heard one of the medics instruct as he loosened Wonwoo's shirt and lifted his head.

You squeezed into the area and despite being worried, maintained a collected and professional demeanor as to not aggravate how Wonwoo was feeling. He always hated making people worry, hated making you worry.

"You heard the doctors, please make space. Filming is not a priority, please go now."

You requested, keeping your cool but you were slowly losing patience when some staff members filming still pressed on shooting footages of Wonwoo and what was happening, blocking the way of incoming first aid supplies from the medics.

"Didn't you hear? FILMING. IS. NOT. A. PRIORITY. NOW!"

There was that controlled yet heavy emphasis on your words, gazing sharply at the camera men. Some of them finally realized it was you, one of the head producers of the documentary they were shooting the footages, and all backed away as their head camera director reached the area, requesting for them to leave and he would cover.

"Y/N -" Wonwoo croaked, and you immediately rushed towards him, taking his trembling, clammy hand and massaging him to increase the flow of blood. Your heart broke at the sight of him struggling to catch his breath - his face pale, body tensed, and hands cold as ice.

"I'm here, Won, I got you baby..."

You whispered with determined calm, taking the can of portable oxygen the medic handed you and placed it by his nose and mouth. "Take a deep breath, love, slowly... come on."

Wonwoo obliged, brows furrowed as he struggled to steady his breathing and take in as much oxygen. Few moments later, the stage director called out to update that the next set was about to start. You were opposed to letting him back on stage, but you did not speak, it was not up to you. It was Wonwoo's decision. Wonwoo, still so weak started slowly getting up, assisted by the medics. The stylists quickly fetched his change of clothes for the next so he can change. You knelt in front of where he was seated to remove his shoes and switch pants and then assisted him in wearing the shoes again. He was still so weak and it was eating you alive seeing him like that, but he wanted to endure. Standing, he leaned against your body, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you and his manager helped him towards the stage. You can sense the intensity of his breathing and the pounding of his chest paired with the disappointed look on his face.

"It's okay, Wonwoo." You looked into his in the eyes, trying to hopefully convince him to sit it out and reassure him it's okay if he can't, but his eyes flashed determination to see it through.

"I am okay. I am ready." He said to you and the manager as you handed him to the stage director and the members who were on his side in a blink.

He got back to the stage where he belongs, shining and performing so beautifully, as if nothing happened backstage. You became even more in awe of the man that he is.

Releasing the breath you had been holding, you got back to working. Wonwoo endured and you must, too.

-

"Cancel all the scheduled interviews and shoot we have with the boys tonight and tomorrow."

"What?" Your co-producers released an incredulous gasp at your request.

"They are tired. They are getting sick and they need to rest." There was authority in your voice and even the managers agreed with you.

"But - "

"But what?"

"We have schedules to follow."

You scoffed unamused.

The tension was heavy in the assembly room where you were holding the end of show huddle. Little did you know it all can be heard in the other room where the boys were resting and changing, all ears on the conversations happening and even talking amongst themselves.

"Really? You'd choose the schedule over the safety of the members? You want to see all of them crawling and dragging themselves in the backstage because of how exhausted they all are?"

You stood from you seat and scratched your temple, "I have been telling you this since before we got here. Their schedules are packed, they do not get enough rest. We are not the ones performing on stage and practicing 20 hours a day, they are."

Your voice resounded and the thin, wooden wall separating the rooms did nothing to mask. The members heard you fighting for them, brazenly.

"Look, I am not trying to start a fight, but I sure as hell am willing to spend extra days and hours filming them myself if that means they'd get the chance to rest in between their shows. Allow them to rest and live and survive. That's all I am asking. How about you? How much are you willing to risk their wellbeing?"

Everyone was speechless. Your intention was evident that day - you were not solely focused on Wonwoo, you were also checking on the other members and ensuring your team wasn't bugging them like they did with Wonwoo. You were right and they knew not to question you, because despite worrying over Wonwoo and being in a relationship him, it had always been clear how fair and professional you are in terms of your work.

The meeting adjourned right after that, with the agreement that you'd take over reviewing the filming schedule and carry out the interviews yourself. As always, you were the last to leave the room with all of them dispersing. Packing your items, you left to check on the members in the other room, shocked at how they all rushed towards you, tackling you with their hugs and gushing at how cool you were for what you did. Wonwoo, on the other hand, just smiled and watched you with adoring eyes - his heart swelled in gratitude towards you and your presence. 

"Yah! Enough of that! I am the one who's sick!" Your boyfriend playfully shouted, approaching you with a small pout as you all broke into fits laughter.

"Oh, my poor Wonu." You cooed and spread your arms for him, and he immediately threw his body onto yours, his arms looping tight around you and burying his face against your neck. The team acted as though they were gagging seeing you like that, but more than the teasing, you all understood the feeling of relief knowing Wonwoo was already much better.

When you reached the hotel, you went to your room to wash the day away with a warm hot shower. You were prepred to work and adjust the schedule of your docu filming when a sudden knock surprised you. You opened the door and there was Wonwoo, carrying his bag and some of his stuff.

"I'll sleep here." He said nonchalantly, entering your room as you took some of his stuff to help him. His eyes were baggy, forehead tensed, and gaits heavy. He did not need to say anything, the deep connection you have was enough for you to know that he was still carrying what happened.

You nodded and beamed at him, "Okay, I'll prep the shower for you, then."

"Thank you, love." He leaned in and you met him in a tender kiss, letting him fix his stuff as you went to the shower to start running it so the water would be at the perfect temperature for him. You pulled out the extra robe from the cabinet and hung it by the door, and even had the hair blower plugged in for later.

He looked so refreshed and relieved once he stepped out of the shower in the robe, his blue hair still dripping.

"Come here." You muttered; another towel ready at your lap. You pat the spot next to you by the bedside and you shifted your body to face him once he was seated. You wrapped the towel around his head, ever so gently squeezing the water out until it was just damp enough. You took the hair dryer plugged into the socket by the bedside table and stood in between his legs, fingers combing through his locks as you blow-dried his hair. Wonwoo released a relieved sigh as your fingers massaged his scalp, his arms automatically wrapping around you to pull you closer so he can rest his head against your chest.

"Love, you did amazing earlier. Seeing you endure like that for the show was incomprehensible."

"Love -"

You adjusted slightly so you can tilt his head and look him in the eyes. You caressed his cheek softly and he closed his eyes while nuzzling against your touch. He saw that sincerity in your eyes and he knew you weren't just buttering him up to make him feel better. You were never that person, you allow him to feel and be human.

"I know you aren't as satisfied, but everyone loved your performance, especially your carats. And I am so proud of you even though I was dying with worry. You did your absolute best for them, literally risking your life and that says everything."

Wonwoo's heart felt lighter at your words, the frown in his face visibly relaxing as a soft grin tugged the corner of his lips. His hand snaked from your waist towards your nape as he pulled you down to kiss you lovingly. 

"It's okay that you are sad now, love. But don't let it eat you up. You still have two shows left, and I am certain you'd also do amazing, and convey your emotions better."

Wonwoo pulled you to the bed and rolled the both of you into the bed and under the duvet, his head resting against your chest, ready to bid the day farewell so he can recharge and greet a new day better and with renewed strength.

"In case I haven't told you recently, I love you, Y/N." He mumbled sleepily but you can hear the smile in his voice.

"In case you it's not obvious, I love you, too, Jeon Wonwoo." You kissed his forehead and continued running your fingers through his locks and massaging his scalp until the two of you drifted off to dreamland.

You'll both be okay, so long as you're together.

Fighting round in circles where is the way out 'Cause I know that our love was hotter than the sun Yeah, the taste of this tequila I'm drinking now Isn't bitter than my heart I want to know our problem, blood type or DNA? Friends see my feed and worry, do you babe? Yeah Been waiting for your call every night But I can't wait no more Dialing you Sorry, darling you You know, without you, I'm so lonely When you're not here, 911 calling Into your heat again, I'm diving Darling you, darling you, baby You know, without you I'm so lonely If you won't be here 911 calling Falling to you I'm always diving Darling you, darling you, baby Darlin', with me under the sun I know that you're my one I don't wanna let you go I can't think of being alone What am I supposed to do? And I gotta let you know You got my heart like it's yours Don't wanna say goodbye I see you, you see me I care for you, you care for me We can be all we need Promise, I won't take you for granted never I'mma treat you better  I'mma see you better So honey, now come into my arms yeah Kiss me baby Kiss me baby

-

In 2020, the merger was officially announced, you as one of the regular producers for Hybe became even more active in supporting the bands, mainly BTS and Seventeen.

Your relationship with Wonwoo became more open - to your friends and to colleagues, who did not seem to worry about it. You were grateful that they were understanding of it, knowing it was inevitable. You remained private and away from public scrutiny, given his prestige. You remained professional and it proved to have no impact on deliverables, the relationship even proved to be helpful, with Wonwoo having more energy when working or the team having someone to talk to about their concerns or share their ideas with. The bond grew stronger, both professionally and personally.

The pandemic proved to be rather difficult and took a toll on both groups who have been working non-stop for years. It meant more efforts were put in ensuring that they would all be safe while being able to still produce quality contents for the fans who need them the most.

That was when you gave birth to and pitched your idea -- In the Soop. A show intended to give them time to heal and recover, while allowing fans to still have quality programme and feel some semblance of normality.

ITS was your brainchild specifically designed for BTS and eventually Seventeen, and because of this, you were assigned as an Executive Producer of the show for the first time ever. It was a hit for BTS and then the preparation for Seventeen ITS officially started -- double in size, double the work, double the chaos.

-

You were in the filming set 3 days prior the members, an advanced party to ensure everything was ready - from the location to product placements, and even the activities they had planned out. You were not in your best mood, if you were being honest, as the last night you spent with Wonwoo before you left ended in a bitter note.

The day before your scheduled departure, you had your pre-flight checks with the members and the staff to talk through all the preparations made, ensuring everyone was all set for the filming. Caffeine ran in your blood trying to keep you awake since the previous weeks had been hectic with all the last-minute product sponsorship and placement offers. During the meeting and the dinner after, you had spent most of the time with Joshua, talking about the activities and even suggesting some more stuff that can be added where possible. Normally, Wonwoo did not mind things like this especially when you were at work, but you were confused to see his sour expression throughout the whole meeting and until you drove home to your apartment where he also sometimes stays. The whole drive was quiet, and it was not the usual comfortable silence you usually shared after busy days.

"You alright, babe?" You asked, pouring him a glass of water and handing it over to him. It was a normal routine whenever you got home, a glass of water for the two of you before your usual rituals as he liked to call it. That night, he just nodded at your question and went towards the bedroom, dismissing the water you offered. You immediately knew something was off. It was a very Wonwoo thing to do to just stay quiet whenever he was feeling or dealing with something uncomfortable.

On normal occasions, you would let it pass and give him time to breathe, knowing he always would crawl back to bed and talk about it. You on the other hand, would normally do something special in order to apologise or make amends.

That night was different.

Your body was aching in exhaustion from the past month of juggling work and other matters. Truly, you wanted to spend the night relaxing with him as planned, but he suddenly had the cold shoulder. Your temples throbbed in pain at the thought of something like this occurring before such a busy and special week for the both of you.

Entering the room after about an hour of contemplating, you saw him already washed up and busy with his phone as he lied in the bed.

“Aren't you going to tell me what's wrong?” You asked, tone a little off – brought about many factors and your emotions overwhelming you.

"Nothing's wrong." He pressed, looking at you with the same sour expression he had during dinner, jaw tensed and eyes blank.

"There's obviously something wrong."

Another silence. Another exasperated sigh from him.

"I am fine."

You approached him in the bed, sitting by the edge as you reached out for him to hopefully soothe him. "I don't believe that... let's talk about it..."

"Then don't! There's nothing to talk about."

That was when you snapped. The harsh answer he gave and the way he blatantly avoided you were enough triggers for you to lose it.

You already fought over silly things or concerns couples would normally fight about but nothing lasted more than a day. You always ensured to make up before the day ended, and you did not sleep on any issues you had. This time he was flat out cold and mean, and you were angry and exhausted enough to deal with his attitude.

"I have no energy for this, please." Your gaze was gentle in contrast with his stone-cold expression as his jaw clenched and avoided eye contact. “I am so tired, let’s just –”

"Is it my fault you're tired?!" He cut you off sarcastically, fuelling the your fire until you combusted.

"Did I say it was because of you? You're impossible! You were the one who's been giving me this attitude since this afternoon when all I want is to be with you tonight! If you are tired of this relationship, just fucking tell me and I'll leave instead of you acting like that!" You blurted, breathless, voice laced with both pain and fury, then walked away and slammed the door shut to spend the night in the living room so you both can have some space to cool down.

Your heart felt so heavy you cried yourself to sleep. 

You were sleepless that night, tossing and turning in bed, eyes puffy from crying, wondering what went wrong and how things transpired. That morning before leaving, you shook him awake to let him know, and he just groaned, still fast asleep and unable to even pry his eyes open.  

While you were busy with preparations, you still wanted to ensure he was alright, but unfortunately, you ended receiving with 1-word updates and responses from him, 'studio', 'home', 'okay'. Aside from that, he completely ignored your calls, either intentionally or when he was busy playing games or packing his stuff for the trip with the members. It was driving you crazy the entire time, but you had massive responsibilities in your plate, and you did not want to bother any other person.

Your heart wasn't cooperating, though. It felt as though a huge brick was sitting atop of your chest while you were working. You thought that maybe you were right, that maybe he wanted out and the thought alone was killing you inside. How could it be? Was it a long time coming? If it was, you were not sure when it started. You were perfectly fine the last few months and everything seemed normal so you could not understand what had gone wrong. These thoughts plagued your mind whenever you weren't distracted by work. You turned your full attention to work, ensuring there was no idle time for you, in the hope to alleviate your fears even just by a fraction.

The last day before their arrival, you were caught up with so much last-minute work, pulling an all-nighter in your cabin to sort some final requests. The staff knew just how huge your role was and just how much effort you poured into this. They wanted to at least ensure you would be able to get some rest because you were doing all the heavy-lifting before it all even started, hence allocating you the small cabin near the upper house.

Your personal phone was left forgotten by the bed since the morning of the last day of preparation. You did not have reason to bring it with you, he had been ignoring you anyway and the quiet of your phone the last two days caused more pain and frustration. Besides, you also considered the crucial bits that had to be done that day required your undivided attention.

Buried in piles of work with your staff and directors until dawn, you missed his numerous calls and messages you never even realised you received.

Your strength waned and your body gave up and succumbed to sleep around 7:00 AM, the day of their scheduled arrival.

You finally caught a bug after draining yourself – falling sick at the first day of shoot.

Great.

Not.

--

Wonwoo was losing his mind. 

He had been calling you since the day before their departure – wanting to speak, apologize, or even just hear your voice to bring even a dose of sanity back into his system. He sent you multiple messages asking how you were, whether you were busy, or what you were doing. Even that morning when he left the dorm, he tried calling to tell you he was on his way but was only routed to your voicemail without hearing anything back. He almost reached out to other producers, but it was one thing you both agreed not to do – never involve other staff. The members naturally would be involved or rather involve themselves due to the level of deep relationships you have, but never the other staff members.

Dino noticed the hard expression on his face, eyes tired as he took the reigns in driving to the location. He was tired but it was a way for him to clear his mind and become distracted.  

"You alright, hyung? Did you sleep last night?" The youngest inquired, both curious and worried that his older brother might be a little too tired to drive.

"Ah, yes. I am okay. Just stayed up playing games so I only slept couple of hours." He faked a laugh and focused on the road. “Don’t worry.”

"Aish! Oh well, we can sleep as long as we can for a week."

Wonwoo hummed in agreement.

Although, he was not sure on whether he can sleep at all with what's happening between the two of you. He had not been sleeping well since the night of the fight. 

-

They arrived at the venue a little past lunchtime, just as you finished preparing for the day. You were in so much pain and craving rest, but it was the most crucial part of the shoot – to welcome them In the Soop.

The cars pulled over the driveway one by one, filling the area with the usual energy the thirteen members always have. The way they bickered and giggled and marvelled at the surroundings echoed around the quiet forest and that strengthened and excited you to leave the room to officially welcome them. It was something they had looked forward to for a long time, knowing just how much they also enjoyed their seniors’ content. You were looking forward to that moment, too, after nearly a year of planning for this to finally happen. All of them greeted you from afar when you left the cabin, bright smiles warming your heart.

The moment you saw Wonwoo leaving the car, it hit you once more just how deeply you love him. Despite what happened, there was a sense of comfort his presence gave. You've been together for two years already and while the initial start of your relationship was all intense outpour of pent-up emotion and affection, it transitioned to a 'calm' type of love when your relationship grew. The love you have is a type of love that one would yearn for – like a hug after a long day, a warm cup of hot chocolate during winter, or a home to go back to after being away – your love has always been a soft place to land. No arguments or misunderstandings could take away the fact that your home would always be each other.

He felt the same - the way he softly looked at you conveyed the things he could not say then.

You never wanted the members to suspect something was happening with the two of you, so you took it upon yourself to get the awkward hello out of the way. You approached Wonwoo and pressed a soft kiss against his cheek and he held you by your waist tightly, no matter how brief it was.

It would suffice for now, you both thought.

Of course, the members noticed something seemed off. It had been three days and normally you would be a bit more affectionate. They expected Wonwoo to run towards you as he always did, hold your hand, or wrap you in his arms. There was none of that and there was an unexplained tension between you.

Beneath your smiles and the excitement as you showed them around the area, you were just trying to power through the pounding headache and nausea, paired with your emotional turmoil. Joshua noticed it first, as always, and then Jeonghan. You had a tired look on your face, sunken eyes, and trembling hands as you instructed them. They immediately knew something was happening, they know you. No one was brave enough to voice it out, though you sensed their worries. 

When everyone finally settled down, you retreated to your room to answer emails and send updates to you bosses and to the team, delegating the first parts of the interview snippets that must be completed that day. You were sneezing endlessly and your temperature continued to rise as you pressed on working. Thankfully, the test kit was negative, so you knew it was just a regular bug.

Your time alone did not last too long as Jeonghan barged into your room, asking you about what happened. You denied and told him you were just sick, but Jeonghan did not buy it, so he held you hostage in your room until you finally shared that apart from being sick, the fight with Wonwoo was a huge factor on why you were not at your 100%. He knew the woes of being in a relationship and how it can impact one person, and for that you truly appreciated him.

"I'll ask Shua to bring you food."

"No, I'll be fine."

"Eeehh, I don’t care. Shut up and rest." He insisted, already leaving your cabin to go to the kitchen you assumed.

You caved in and you were only woken up when Joshua's soft voice echoed around the room and the smell of stew wafted through the air. You were leaning down the table napping when he saw you gently stirring awake. You had already lost track of time.

"You okay, Y/N?"

Joshua’s kind eyes widened as he saw you, worry evident in his voice as he placed the pot down, and gently assisted you to a better position. He dashed to get a pillow, placed it on the back of the chair to make it comfortable, and served you the stew he prepared for you.

"Since when are you sick?" He gently asked, handing you a spoon, and placing a hand against your forehead to feel your warm skin.

"This morning, I guess. It's just a bug, I'll be fine with some more sleep."

Joshua had always been caring towards you, like he would with other members. There was something about the way he paid attention to you that you appreciate a lot, but you never gave it another meaning. He has always been a gentle friend and he genuinely cares about everyone.

"Do you want me to call Wonwoo?"

"No, I am okay. Thank you so much, you should get back there. I need you guys in the camera." You managed to laugh before coughing, and he swiftly gave you a glass of water. He smiled gently at you, watching you savour the stew, staying just a little longer and ensuring you’d eat before leaving requested.

“Feel better, Y/N.”

-

Wonwoo saw Jeonghan and Joshua leave your cabin, and that did not help how he was feeling. He saw them preparing meals, and while he did not ask, he assumed it was for you since it was your favourite kimchi stew. Your name also popped up in the conversation as they prepared your meal, talking about you quietly as if hiding something. Instead of asking, Wonwoo chose to be quiet – thinking that your personal issues don't have a place there, you were there to work, after all.

He spent the night with the members, laughing, playing games, and just relaxing until it was time to sleep. You did not hear anything from him that night, but you saw him once you start checking footages when you woke up by the middle of the night. It was a relief to see him like that, resting and enjoying without any pressure despite technically still being at work.

The next day, the team had more free time to laze around or do as they pleased. Wonwoo and Joshua spent more time in the playroom after their brunch, working on their crafts or building blocks. The older member seized the opportunity to speak with your boyfriend, perhaps to gain more understanding of what was happening and why Wonwoo seemed to be in the dark about your situation.

"How's Y/N? Is she feeling better?" Joshua asked, testing the waters and checking whether Wonwoo even knew you were sick. Joshua did not see Wonwoo visit you that morning and not even when you were basically dragging yourself towards the production team to give instructions while you were covered in thick jackets and double masks.

Wonwoo's expression did not lie – there was flinch in his expression coupled with a surprised and worried look no matter how much he tried to hide it, "Yeah. She's okay... just busy." Wonwoo's jaw tensed.

Joshua nodded, fully taking in that it was right you got into a fight and that Wonwoo was unaware you were sick. "That's good to hear. You should spend time together once she's fully recovered. We've the week here, you know. And away from prying eyes, too, except ours of course." Joshua gave Wonwoo a knowing smile, trying to lighten the mood. 

Wonwoo smiled and nodded before walking outside the house just in time for Jeonghan to invite him for a walk. He felt weak, knees wobbling at the thought of you sick and upset, and then him unable to explain why he acted such way few nights ago.

Jeonghan and Wonwoo strolled through the woods, appreciating the nature and the privacy of the place despite cameras here and there. The sun peeked through the thick trees and the branches, casting a nice shadow around the trail they were walking on. Every one thought the place was amazing, carefully chosen for them in such a perfect time of the year. Wonwoo wanted to enjoy, but what's happening between you was eating him up for the past few days already.

Wonwoo understood it was only natural for Jeonghan to step in during such situation. He has always and been the team's mom-slash-counsellor, and the reason why he asked him to walk with him was clear – you. Jeonghan has always been such an observant but more than that, he cares a lot about you and Wonwoo separately and together.

"Do you know she's sick?" Jeonghan asked plainly, looking up at his younger brother who just shook his head.

"Yah!" He scolded Wonwoo with a disapproving look on his face and hit his arms. "I had to coerce her to tell me since when she was sick and learned she had not been sleeping well since the fight, too. She needs you now. I don't care what happened, but you need to fix it, you're obviously not okay too, and the show might be impacted because of this."

"I don't know how to start, hyung." Wonwoo mumbled, brows furrowed at he looked at his older brother as if seeking guidance. "She's still angry, I think."

"Aaah, you THINK? How many of her texts and calls did you ignore like she is a nuisance?"

"I tried calling yesterday... just —"

"She's already sick and working her ass off. Her heart was probably heavy, too, not knowing why you suddenly got angry at her." Jeonghan shared, just trying to make Wonwoo realize how much you need his support that moment especially.

"I am not angry."

"Then why did you act that way?"

Wonwoo could not speak. It was too complicated and embarrassing to admit.

They continued walking in silence as Wonwoo pondered on things. Seungcheol saw them and caught-up, and Wonwoo felt even more pressured as though his parents would be telling him off any minute then.

"Y/N looks like a zombie earlier. I got scared I saw her walking to get water in the fridge outside. I did not know she was sick!" Seungcheol chuckled as if amused but Jeonghan gave him the look that made him purse his lips.

"Ah, you fought?" Seungcheol asked Wonwoo.

"Yeah. My fault. I got jealous and was an ass towards her." Wonwoo finally admitted, scratching the back of his neck as Jeonghan and Seungcheol snorted and shook their heads. The couple casually laced their hands together, no fears at all as they savoured the secrecy of the place. Wonwoo’s heart ached, he wanted that, too. He wanted to hold your hands, watch the sunset and the stars with you, and bask in nature with you by his side.

"Do you doubt her? Your relationship?"

"No! Never!" Wonwoo was quick to respond. There was nothing like that. He trusts you wholeheartedly, but he just got insecure somehow, especially with the affection others showed you.

"Then why don't you tell her what's wrong? You know whatever it is, you are both adults, you just need to talk about it. That's what Hannie and I do every time. Just talk, communication is always the key, even though you hate that sometimes."

Seungcheol's advice were always practical and straightforward - an ace of a true leader. He has always been sensitive and considerate, but real blunt when needed.

"Besides," Jeonghan said, his voice softer this time as if trying to coax Wonwoo out of his bubble, "she misses you, but she is waiting and giving you time to come into your senses. Did you know she personally bought the telescope you requested because she wanted it to be special and based on what you really want?"

Wonwoo's eyes widened in surprise, then turned his head down as he answered a meek, "No."

"In the Soop is her baby and she is excited for this turn great, not for herself but for us members. And for you. She has been looking forward to it for months." Seungcheol added. "She'll listen to you whatever it is, Wonwoo, she loves you. You just have to trust yourself and trust her, too."

Guilt was eating Wonwoo inside. It hurt so much to hear that you were sick, and he wasn't even there to ask how you are and look after you. It hurt to hear that your friends know just how much you love him, yet he still acted that way that night. Jeonghan and Seungcheol were right, whatever it was, he needed to fix it. Wallowing in jealousy, fear and pride would not help.

Wonwoo nodded at them and released a deep breath, mumbling a soft thank you to the two.

"Now go, we need time alone." Seungcheol requested with a soft snicker, pointing towards the direction of your cabin. "Good luck."

-

Wonwoo's heart was pounding. He was too scared and anxious on how the conversation will end. There were endless scenarios in his head but most of all, he was frightened that you would really choose to leave. The gloomy weather that followed did not help either. He found himself by the tarp having tea with Minghao, trying to still compose himself before going. And, he did not go to you right away. If he was being honest, he just showered again to buy himself some more time.

Your cabin was secluded just a few steps from the main house, even then, he took slow and careful steps towards it. It was dark inside apart from the warm light coming from the open curtains of your cabin. He knew you were there as the producers forced you to rest the whole day. 

He silently approached your door which was slightly ajar and watched you. You were wrapped in blanket with your back facing the door as you browsed your phone and read conversations and missed messages, before locking it and curling up. His heart felt heavy seeing you like that, alone in the dark, sick, and worried. It was another punch in his gut that he could no longer bear.

The room smelt of berries and mint, the way it normally would whenever you just got out of shower. He always loved that smell, it reminds him of home every time, reminds him of you. He even got his own one he used whenever he was on tour and you weren’t with them just so he would not miss you too much. The smell is always a reminder of good times and that no matter how long the road takes him away, you would always be waiting for him. It stirred something inside him – he cannot lose you.

Finally taking a deep breath, he entered the room. You would know those footsteps from anywhere no matter how quiet it was, but even then, you weren't quick enough because in just a blink, the bed dipped as he crawled under the duvet, his arm wrapping around your middle to pull you plush against his body. Your heart clenched and despite everything that happened, his embrace was all you needed. A sudden wash of calm and relief flooded your entire being as if a heavy load was lifted off your chest. Eyes remaining closed, you allowed him to lace your fingers together and pulled him closer, too. No amount of sleep and rest can ever beat his warmth.

"I am sorry, Y/N." He whispered, pressing soft kisses against your shoulders and towards your neck and cheek, feeling him gently sniffling. "I am so sorry." His voice was merely a whisper, as if he was just thinking out loud.

Your heart ached, feeling a drop of his tear that made you turn your body to face him. You met his eyes brimming with tears as his lips quivered. The sight broke your heart. There was something behind those tears, a deeper reason why things turned out the way they did. Just how hurt he looked that moment made you pray to all the gods for them to take those pain away.

"Wonwoo, I am sorry, too." You whispered, wiping the lone tear that cascaded against his beautiful face. Before leaning in closer as he pulled you in to eliminate all the distance between you. He pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he tried to compose himself.

"I am so scared you'd leave me. I am scared that you would realize others can take better care of you, cook food when you're sick, say all the right things... I am scared you'd realize you deserve someone better." Wonwoo whispered softly, eyes searching yours. He was hurt, jealous, and frustrated, but most of all, anxious. Anxious that you would leave him after what happened and after how he acted. Anxious that he ruined his home.

"Hey, where is this coming from?" You asked soothingly, gently brushing your fingers through his scalp as you tried to get to the root of whatever was causing it.

He hesitated at first, pressing his lips together, unable to form words to explain how he felt.

"It's all okay, you can tell me, my love." You encouraged, massaging the back of his head to soothe him.

"Shua-hyung noticed you were sick. I did not even see it because I was so selfish and jealous. I got so jealous of him that night even though I should not have, I know it was just work. Then yesterday when he cooked for you –” He paused, brows scrunched up in frustration as his voice quivered, "I could not even cook for you, the best I could do is ramyeon, and I was not even here to take care of you when you were really sick!"

Memories of that day came flashing before your eyes. You did not notice that during the meeting Joshua was making you laugh and complimenting you every so often, but Wonwoo saw that. The way Joshua gave you a lingering hug and reminded you take it easy made Wonwoo evaluate whether he was able to give such comfort or whether he had become complacent and too comfortable with the relationship. He thought of all the times he was busy playing games for hours when you might have needed him. He thought of those times when he was not able to pay attention to you because he knew you were just there, and he knew you wouldn't leave. It scared him that he might’ve taken your presence for granted. He always felt the Joshua has feelings for you and he thought about how easy it would be to love such person.

You, on the other hand, never paid attention to such things because all you ever wanted was Wonwoo. That night all you were looking forward to was him alone. He always told you he'd like to be better at things, but you love him as he is. The simple mundane things you do together are more than enough – the way he complains whenever he is losing, the way he silently tangles himself with your body after long days at work, the way you gossip about stuff until the wee hours of the night, the way he brings you home little trinkets from tours whenever you were unable to come with them, and the way he holds you with nothing but soft reminders of just how much he loves you. You could not ask for more than what you both have.

He cupped your face and pressed his lips together, swallowing a lump of tear, "I’ll treat you better, see you better. I’ll be better. I can't lose you and I am terrified the last few days that maybe I just did."

"Wonwoo love, listen to me. I am sorry I made you feel that way. I am sorry that you got scared because of whatever I said or how I acted. To be honest, that night, I just really wanted you. I was looking forward to spending time with you and I was hurt and tired and overwhelmed with emotions. I did not mean to hurt you, baby. I never meant for that to scare you." You poured your heart out as if willing all the pain away as your tears finally escaped. "And I don't care if you can't cook, so long as you promise to wash the dishes and clean up whenever I do." You chuckled softly to lighten the mood which also made him let out a chuckle and nod.

“I am the best dishwashing fairy you can ask for,” He mumbled and pressed a kiss on your forehead.

"You are more than enough for me, Jeon Wonwoo. You take care of me the way I need to be taken care of. Your presence alone is enough. You are my safe place and my best friend. The other things are just… bonus. You are my favourite person since day 1, remember? I chose you, I choose you, and I will keep on choosing you."

Wonwoo's eyes glistened as he soaked up your words that vanished all his worries away. You left him speechless that all he can do was pour all his emotions in a passionate kiss, whispering ceaselessly, "I love you. I love you. I love you so much."

"I love you, too, Jeon Wonwoo."

-

You stayed like that for a few more minutes, tangled against each other as he pressed soft kisses on the top of your head. You breathed him in as if gaining strength from the way he embraced you and every pain the last few days seemed to have healed.

"You're still feverish, love." His deep voice rang in your ears, his hand pressing against and feeling your skin.

"Yeah, you really shouldn't have kissed me. You might get sick." You mumbled, looking up at him to see a softer gaze, calmer expression compared to how he looked earlier. You stayed like that, admiring every feature of his face, from his eyebrows, the perfect slope of his nose, his defined cupid's bow and lips, and those dazzling eyes. You could not help but smile in admiration. He's your home. He always will be.

"Why?" He asked, soft smile tugging against the corners of his lips as he saw you watching him intently.

"You okay now? We okay?" You gazed at those warm dazzling eyes and allowed yourself to get lost in them. His eyes always saw through you and that moment, you hoped he'd also see the sincerity behind everything you told him.

Wonwoo nodded and sighed in relief, pressing a sudden kiss on your lips, "More. than. okay." He mumbled in between pecks which made you chuckle softly, trying to mask the fact that the butterflies on your stomach were fluttering crazily.

"They're going to kill me if you get sick." You mumbled only to be silenced by more kisses and cuddles from him.

"It's a happy virus."

All was well.

Baby, I will be your happiness You're always on my mind, all the time Please don't forget this moment Oh, I can't hide it Geez, I want to give you all of my heart Oh my love, warmly call out for me when I'm by your side I'll only fill you with love Above that endless sky This night of stars pouring down Is looking at you sleeping next to me Dreaming the same dream and feeling the same way You see we are spending the same night together Even if I give you everything in the world I will never change Promise me eternity If you feel the same way as I do No matter what happens Don't worry, I'm by your side Oh, I want to know more about your day with me Oh my love, you are deeply positioned in my heart You are the brightest light In the many grains of sand I can only find you I want to protect you who's sleeping next to me in this night Every moment without you is meaningless, no ooh-oh Even the reason why I breathe Is because my heart wants to have you in it

--

BONUS:

“Wonwoo-hyung?” Mingyu’s voice boomed around your cabin, dragging you back to earth from the dreamland after being asleep for a few hours. You stayed up with the members and some managers drinking and chatting until sunrise as it was the only time they got to spend with you. “You here? We need to go by noon!”

Mingyu entered your room upon hearing you grumbling, which caused him to giggle and plop into your bed nonchalantly. “You okay, noona?”

“You’re so loud!” You groaned and pulled a pillow to yourself when Mingyu hogged the cover as if he was about to sleep as well. “Wonwoo, your husband is here!” You yelled sleepily, hoping your boyfriend who was busy in the shower could hear you so you can enjoy the quiet once more.

“Hyung, make it quick! We’ll leave soon.” Mingyu hopped off the bed, walking around the room towards the mirror to fix his clothes. “Wanna tag along, noona?” He asked only to burst out laughing when he saw you glowering at him just as the door opened to your boyfriend who was already dressed and ready for their fishing trip. Wonwoo tried holding back his chuckle at how you looked, lips pressed firmly as she struggled.

“Leave quick, I want to sleep more please.” You groused once more, throwing a pillow at them making Mingyu run towards the door and bid you a teasing goodbye.

Your brows furrowed in the pounding headache, and you swore you were never drinking again. You felt your skull being split into two from the hang-over and you did not even drink that much. You thought maybe that it was because you were sick few days back, but historically, alcohol had always helped you.

“You okay?” Wonwoo asked, worried as he watched you. He had memorized your quirks already – he knows your HO cure like how you know his – but still he could not help but worry.

“Yeah, just headache… need grease…”

“Ack babe, you can no longer hold your liquor.” He teased playfully, already fetching pain killers and a bottle of electrolyte drink for you. “Quick, take this before sleeping again.” He sat by the bed and helped you sit, popping the pill into your mouth, helping you drink, and wiping your lips. “Good girl. Hang-on, I’ll elevate your pillows.” Wonwoo mumbled, adjusting your pillows and tucking you back in a comfortable position so you can sleep more.

“Thank you, love.” You mumbled, eyes closed as you blindly held on to his arm to thank him.

“I’ll buy you grease on our way back.” He smiled and left gentle pecks on your lips and then pulled away to shut the curtains close before making his way out.

You slept for another hour until you needed to get up and work.

And as promised, Wonwoo came back with your HO cure – a nice, meaty beef burger which melted your hang-over immediately.

-

The night went deeper in the forest, but you hadn’t seen Wonwoo for most of the time since he brought your burger. Everyone seemed to be busy with their own stuff with some ruckus from afar. Shaking your head, you turned your attention towards the computer screen, writing reports around footages taken that day for editing reference and arranging the metadata for the snippets.

Like how it has always been with the members, your solitude was broken with a loud banging on your door.

“Noona!” Hoshi greeted ever cheerfully, walking towards you. “Can you help me with something please?”

“Depends.” You chuckled, “What is it?”

Hoshi just smiled mischievously, his eyes completely vanishing as he did so. “Let’s go, I’ll show it to you.”

Surrendering, you nodded and followed him outside your room towards the darker way deeper into the forest.

“What is it, Hoshi?”

“We’re near.” He muttered as you reached the pathway towards the gazebo lit by lanterns.

You were at a loss for words at what you saw next.

“Yaaah, what’s this?” Your heart fluttered against your chest as you tried taking in what was happening.

The members were there, all lined up, each holding a sunflower they handed over to you one by one before walking sideways in a perfect relay. Your cheeks hurt from beaming throughout until you reached Mingyu who was the last one to give you the flower.

“Hope you’re no hung-over anymore, noona.” He winked and gave you the sunflower, then stepped aside to reveal your boyfriend.

Wonwoo stood there holding three sunflowers, a huge, loving smile painted on his face as you took slow steps towards each other.

“What’s this?” You were stunned as you asked the question, hear racing against your ribcage as you met his gaze.

“Y/N, would you go on a date with me? Now?” Wonwoo inquired ever so smoothly, earning loud whooping cheers from the members.

“Of course, I would.” You flushed, taking the flowers he handed over to you, eyes never leaving his chocolate ones.

You looked back at the team to thank them. They waved goodbye, proud of their perfect execution, asking you and Wonwoo to enjoy your time together.

With hands intertwined, Wonwoo led you towards the gazebo now all decked up with lanterns and the telescope you bought for him. A picnic cloth laid in the middle of the gazebo, with two bottles of non-alcoholic sparkling wine and a huge charcuterie board filled with your favourite types cheeses and cold-cuts sitting by.

You were utterly amazed by everything, unable to comprehend how Wonwoo pulled off such surprise once more, and in the middle of the forest to add to that.

Your heart was full, as always, because of him.

“Love…” A dreamy sigh left your lips as you faced him. “How? Why?”

Wonwoo turned bashful but held you closer by your waist, “I’ve always wanted to remake our first ever ‘date’ in the back of my car, and somehow elevate it. This time we can really watch the stars and not just the city lights.”

“Oh Jeon Wonwoo, the man that you are.” Filled with astonishment, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and closed the distance between you, pouring all your emotions in that passionate exchange.

Under the endless velvet sky and glimmering stars, you once again reminded each other that you are feeling the same way and dreaming the same dream, and that if eternity is true, you both can rest in certainty that no matter what happens, you are always each other’s haven and your hearts would always want each other.

---

Thank you for reading, darling. 💗💙 Coming Soon: MAMA 2019 and some real fluffy and steamy Yuletide stuff. 💗💙

[wooataes]

Real Eyes, Fake Lies (Part Nine)

Pairing: soulmate!Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.2K

Warnings: Hanahaki!au, angst, alcohol consumption, swearing, jihoon has a panic attack, tears, nothing else too drastic this chapter 🙏🏼

Summary: What do you do when you find out the one person that was created by the universe to be yours doesn’t want you back?

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS, DEAR READERS! Omg it’s been so long and I apologize for that! Hopefully this can tie yall over into the new year! 🥰 I hope you all got spoilt over the holiday period and enjoy this new chapter! 🫶🏼 ALSO shoutout to my girl Wei for pretty much cowriting this chapter with me 💜

- Tae 💜🌸

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“It’s you, isn’t it?”

Jihoon stares at your brother’s soulmate with wide eyes.

“Is what me?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Lee.” Jeonghan frowns, arms crossed tight across his chest. “Y/N. Are you her soulmate or not?”

Jihoon’s heart skips a beat as he pauses.

“What makes you think that?”

Jeonghan notes his avoidance of the question. “It all adds up a little too well. She found her soulmate the day you were supposed to walk her home. She avoids you like the plague unless she has to be near you. She can barely look in your direction but you stare at her like a lost puppy. I see you smiling about her when you think no one is looking. But… you have Ji-ah.” Your soulmate grimaces. “And knowing my Ladybug, which I do, she would never want to separate a couple if she can help it. She’s too selfless for that. She would give her worst enemy the shirt off her back if she thought it would help.” Jeonghan’s eyes look glazed over, tears filling them. “All of the evidence I’ve seen concludes that you’re her soulmate and she is tearing herself apart to keep you happy.”

“How do you know she is hurting?”

“She is drinking.” Jeonghan mutters. “She only ever drinks if she’s really upset about something. This is the only thing I can chalk it up to. Am I correct?”

“No. You’re wrong.” Jihoon lies through his teeth.

“I hope I am.” Jeonghan retorts quickly. “Because what I’ve heard from Soonyoung about you, you’re a great person.” Your soulmate winces as he feels the guilt seep in again. “I know someone wouldn’t willingly do this to someone as sweet as her.”

“You don’t know me.” Jihoon’s voice is small.

“You’re right. I don’t.” He agrees. “Look, I don’t care if you are or if you’re not. All I care about is that girl back there. If you are her soulmate, you need to stop giving her goo-goo eyes while you’re with another girl and giving her false hope. You need to cut the tether. Let the girl heal in her own way because you two being around each other is giving her hope of a relationship that will never happen.”

“You don’t think I’ve tried that?” He hisses. “I have tried to fucking avoid her and let her heal and let her forget about me!” There are tears in his eyes now.

“If I could change how it turned out, I would. I’m her fucking project partner and her best friend is my best friend. This stupid invisible force keeps drawing me to her and I’m hating it.” His words keep spilling out, the tears beginning to fall.

“I feel her cry every fucking night and I can’t do anything about it and help her without hurting someone else! And the worst part is that still despite everything, she hasn’t told anyone because she doesn’t want anything bad to happen to me! I don’t deserve her! I want to stop her suffering and leave her alone but I can’t! What am I supposed to fucking do?!”

Jeonghan sighs and stares at your soulmate in tears before him. “Is it stupid to say follow your heart?”

“Yes.”

He chuckles. “Then I say make your choice and make it quickly. I can’t stand to see that kid go through any more pain than what she has been through, you better be fast.” Jihoon winces as he watches Jeonghan turn around and begin to walk away. “Jihoon-ssi, Consider yourself lucky that it was me that noticed and not her brother. If it was him, you’d be dead where you stand. Do you understand?”

“Yeah.” Jihoon whispers, running his fingers through his hair slowly.

“Good. I hope I don’t have to tell you to stop hurting her again.”

Jihoon stares up at the starry sky as Jeonghan makes his way back to the campsite, tears still falling down his cheeks. His mind is running a mile a minute, his lungs squeezing as he tries to control his breathing.

What the fuck is he going to do?

It takes Jihoon another 20 minutes before he makes his way back to the group, his brain just as jumbled as it was before. He is no closer to a solution than he was before being confronted by Jeonghan, and he is sure he isn’t going to have it by the end of the night. He looks to the picnic table first, looking to see you still wedged between Jisoo and Seungcheol, sipping from your third bottle of soju. Your eyes are glazed over as you lean quietly into Jisoo’s side, a dopey smile on your face as you laugh at Soonyoung. Jisoo’s arm is kept tightly around you, rubbing your arm soothingly as Seungcheol speaks in hushed whispers with his soulmate.

Jeonghan’s words have planted a seed of worry in Jihoon’s brain as he spots Seokmin watch his soulmate with adoring eyes, who is currently fawning over you. He really should figure out what to do with his fucked up situation, but for now, he makes his way to his housemates and his not-soulmate. He plants himself down in the camping chair next to Ji-ah, who doesn’t seem to notice his arrival. Instead, she is staring at her phone with a little smile forming on her face.

“Did your sister send you some dress ideas, babe?” Jihoon asks, the pet name leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

His presence startles Ji-ah, yelping and almost dropping her phone. “Huh?”

“I just asked if that was your sister.”

“O-oh.” She laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Uhh.. yeah, just talking about cake flavor ideas.” She shoves her phone quickly into her pocket before he can see, cheeks flushed. Jihoon simply hums and nods as he leans forward slightly to listen in on Mingyu and Wonwoo’s conversation.

“No~!” Jihoon hears you whining as Seungkwan takes Seungcheol’s spot beside you. “I want it, Boo.” You jutt your bottom lip out as Seungkwan holds the bottle of soju above your head.

“Ah-ah. No.” His voice is firm. “That is bottle number three when you have had no food in you. It’s time to eat.”

“Why?” You sigh dramatically.

“Because you’re going to get alcohol poisoning.” Jisoo tries to encourage you.

“Maybe I want to get blackout drunk.” You huff.

“Maybe,” Seungcheol agrees with you, leaning against Seungkwan’s back as he held the alcohol high above your reach. “But in this family, we drink responsibly. You will get this back when you eat at least one bowl of rice and some meat.”

“Come on, you,” Soonyoung sits atop the table in front of you, holding the chopsticks full of food towards you. “One bite at a time.”

“No.” You grumble, turning your head away from him.

“If you eat, you get the soju back, Goober.” Jisoo encourages beside you, still rubbing at your arm as you look up at him. Your frown is still visible as he smiles down to you, nodding eagerly. After a long sigh, you open your mouth obediently as Soonyoung puts the awaiting food into your mouth.

“There we go!” Seokmin grins and claps happily at you.

“Good girl.” Jisoo praises, and your cheeks turn red as a small smile forms on your lips, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by your soulmate.

Soonyoung wordlessly offers more food to you, which you take eagerly with Jisoo’s praises, but Jihoon can’t help but stare at your blushing cheeks and dazed smile at your brother's friend with each bite. For the upteenth time that night, Jihoon pushes down the uncomfortable feeling that settles in his stomach as he tries to remember Jeonghan’s words to tell him to move on from you.

Within five minutes, almost the whole plate is finished by you, your rosy cheeks puffed up as you look hopefully to Seungkwan. “I did good?”

“Hmm~” he hums appreciatively. “You sure did.” He grins, patting your head sweetly as he passes the soju to Jisoo.

“Now, you can have this back, but you gotta be good and drink slowly. Okay, Goober?”

“Yes, Shua-‘ppa.” You chirp through your last mouthful of food, and giggle gleefully as he passes the alcohol to you.

Jihoon purposely attempts to keep his back to you to avoid the temptation to keep an eye on you. You’re clearly tipsy at best, and too many nights of handling a drunk, clingy Mingyu have conditioned him to want to try and keep an eye on you to see if you’ll be just as destructive as your friend.

To his surprise though, for the rest of the night you stay by Jisoo’s side, nestled delicately against him. Jisoo doesn’t mind, on the contrary, he has kept up his conversations with the others well as his arm absentmindedly keeps you close, stroking your shoulder as he talks. You stay happily curled up, fiddling with a box of beads and string that Jisoo has brought for the trip, making bracelets as you hum drunkenly to yourself.

“Hyung,” Mingyu is whispering to your brother, standing by the fire near Jihoon’s seat, who can’t help but listen to his housemate speak. “Are you sure you should be letting Y/N-ie drink?”

“She’s not hurting anyone, is she?” Seungcheol deadpans, raising an eyebrow. “Look at her. She’s fine.”

Jihoon follows the line of view with Mingyu, observing you. You’re smiling quietly as you delicately place a purple flower bead onto the small plastic thread, Jisoo leaning down and whispering something in your ear, making you giggle and nudge his side before testing the length of the bracelet around his wrist.

“Aren’t they a little too close?” Wonwoo comments, a frown of concern on his face as your soulmate keeps his eyes on you tying the end of the bracelet around Jisoo’s wrist securely.

“If you’re trying to insinuate my friend would make a move on my sister, you’re wrong.” Seungcheol hums nonchalantly, taking a swig of his beer. “We were all close as kids. This is exactly like how they were.”

“Is Shua single, babe?” Jeonghan asks your brother, loud enough for Jihoon to hear. Jihoon frowns deeply, knowing what he is trying to do.

“I mean, he has a soulmate.” Seungcheol responds, Jeonghan keeping his eyes on Jihoon. “He hasn’t seen them for a long time, but he has one.”

“Interesting.” Is Jeonghan’s only response, sipping his drink as he eyes your soulmate’s obvious grimace.

Your giggles filled the comfortable silence for most of the relaxed evening as you watch Seungkwan nag to Soonyoung, wagging his finger in his face as the older boy starts to imitate him. The night has begun to quiet down now, nearing close to 1am as some of the group have retreated to their tents for the evening, leaving only Seungcheol, Jeonghan, Jisoo, Soonyoung, Seokmin, Seungkwan, Jihoon and yourself left awake. Although, you are clearly losing the battle of consciousness.

You’re currently on your upteenth bracelet of the night, blinking blearily as you place the rainbow beads carefully onto the thread as Jisoo, who now hasn’t left your side almost all evening, joins in as he seems to be making a necklace. Jihoon has been preparing to go back to his tent for a little while now, but he finds himself not able to rest until everyone else has. He stays put in his camping chair as he watches you and your friends wind down for the evening.

“Hey, you.” Seokmin leans over you, making you lean backwards against his front, relishing in his warmth as you hum in content.

“Hi.” You smile sleepily, watching as Seokmin reaches down to tie the bracelet against your wrist.

“Ready for bed, hm?” He smiles down to you as you begin to pout. Before you can speak, though, he laughs. “Come on, Bug, we are going into the city tomorrow to go to the beach. We need to rest so we can have a fun beach day.”

Jihoon can see the gears ticking in your head as you process his words, lip still in a deep frown. It’s cute.

“The bracelets will be here for you tomorrow, y’know.” Jisoo chimes in with a charming smile. “And we are all going to bed now so you won’t miss out.”

“Mm…Kay.” You yawn.

“C’mon.” Soonyoung coos, taking your hand as you rise, reaching up and rubbing at your eye tiredly. He wraps you in a fluffy blanket as he leads you to the large inflatable pool. He glances at Seungcheol and Jeonghan as he passes them, whispering. “Do you have the painkillers for tomorrow?” When they nod, he nods with approval before scooping you up and settling you down on the pillows beside his soulmate who takes you carefully.

“Ready for some stargazing?” Seokmin smiles as you nod silently, already leaning back and looking up at the clear, starry sky as Soonyoung lays down beside you. Your eyes begin to tiredly flutter closed, your head falling and resting against your best friend’s shoulder.

“I thought you said she wasn’t affectionate and cuddly with soulmated people?” Jisoo asked your brother curiously as you snuggle with your friends.

“Normally she isn’t.” Seungcheol hums.

“She’s been drinking, that’s why.” Jeonghan chimes in as he cleans the last of the rubbish on the table.

“Did you end up finding out why?” Your brother asks quietly. “She only ever does when something has really hurt her.”

Jeonghan pauses with a quick glance to Jihoon before shaking his head, a pang of guilt building inside him. “No. She wouldn’t tell me.”

“She will tell you about it when she’s ready, I’m sure.” Jisoo replies sagely with a smile that makes Jihoon almost scoff. He has known you for five minutes.

“Yeah, but…” Seungcheol sighs.

“Hey, no buts.” His soulmate smiles, pecking his lips. “She’s in the safest hands she could be in. And like Joshuji said, she will tell us when she is ready.”

After the others all made their way to their tents for the night, (and after a stupid longing stare at you resting in Soonyoung’s arms) Jihoon heaves a sigh as he steps into his small tent to see Ji-ah sitting straight up on the mattress, looking as if she’d seen a ghost.

“Babe?” The name leaves a bitter taste in his mouth that he chooses to ignore. It causes Ji-ah to jolt, not sensing his presence. “Is everything alright?”

“Jihoon,” she sighs nervously. “Something has happened. I… tomorrow when we go to the city I need to go home.”

“Wait, what?” Jihoon’s eyes widened as he crawled onto the mattress beside his not-soulmate. She tenses. “What’s happened? Do you need me to go with you?”

“No!” She insists quickly, making Jihoon jolt in shock. “I mean… no,” she takes a shaky breath and laughs awkwardly. “No.. it’s fine. I just need to get home as soon as I can.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?” He reaches for her hand, which she hesitantly takes.

“Yes, I’m sure, babe.” She smiles, although to him it almost seems like a grimace. He pauses for a moment before nodding.

“Okay. I’ll get Jeonghan-ssi to take a detour on the way to the beach tomorrow.”

“Thank you…” she smiled again, a bit more genuine this time as they both moved to lay down to rest, although Jihoon doesn’t think he will be able to sleep any time soon - the memories of Jeonghan’s words and your heartbroken face playing over in his head on loop.

At the ripe time of 8:14am, Jihoon steps out of the tent with Ji-ah’s suitcase in tow, wincing at the bright sunlight shining through the trees on the campsite. He rubs at his eyes tiredly, glancing around at the state of the others.

At the early hour, only a few are awake and making breakfast for the (most likely) hungover others who are still resting. Jeonghan and Seungcheol man the barbecue, Jisoo putting all the food onto plates for everyone once they wake. Jihoon can’t help but frown a little at Jisoo before he glances over to where he knows he shouldn’t look.

Seokmin and Soonyoung are awake, sitting up and talking quietly to each other with a still resting you sleeping against Soonyoung’s chest. Your face is hidden from everybody, buried against the soft fabric of your best friend’s hoodie, protecting you from the brightness of the sun. Soonyoung is patting the back of your head as he speaks intimately with Seokmin, who is scratching your back absentmindedly. Jihoon watches for a moment, nose scrunching up slightly before he turns to make his way to your brother and his soulmate.

“Umm, Jeonghan-hyung,” Jihoon starts nervously. Hyung is fine, right? It’s respectful enough. “Can I please talk to you for a second?”

Jeonghan looks genuinely surprised at your soulmate standing before him, looking dare he says… scared? He’s amused as he watches Jihoon glance at your brother nervously for a split second. Your brother pays him no mind, still tending to the food so it doesn’t burn.

“Sure, give me a second.” He smiles, stepping out from behind the barbecue to the picnic table a few meters away, Jihoon trailing behind awkwardly.

“I’d like to ask a favor.” He can’t look Jeonghan in the face. If he was honest, his chat with him yesterday scared the crap out of him at the thought of your brother’s wrath. “It isn’t much, really…”

“What is it?”

“Ji-ah has had a family emergency come up.” He gestures to her suitcase by their tent. “I just wanted to ask if it was okay if we could pass by the train station on the way to the beach today? I can cover for fuel and-”

“Oh!” Jeonghan lets out an airy laugh. “Is that all?” Jihoon’s shocked at the change in his tone. “I thought you were going to tell me that you were going to do something stupid like ask me how to woo your soulmate.”

Jihoon gasps audibly as he quickly turns to look around to see if anybody overheard Jeonghan’s words.

“It’s fine, Jihoon-ssi.” He smiles. “Half of the guys are planning to go shopping in the city while we go to the beach anyway. No sweat.”

He releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Oh.. thank you, hyung.” He nods slowly. As he turns away, he jumps slightly at the feeling of Jeonghan’s hand grabbing his wrist.

“It’s no problem.” His voice is suddenly icy. “But, for future reference, don’t think about asking me about how to win Ladybug’s heart unless you’re 100% serious, you hear me?” A small jolt of fear runs through him as he nods worriedly. And just as quick as he came, Jeonghan’s expression changes back to his happy demeanor. “Perfect! We are on the same page then! Good talk.” He claps him on the back before making his way to the food. “Now have some breakfast before it gets cold.”

The others are uncharacteristically quiet as they all climb onto the bus for the quiet ride into the city due to the copious amount of alcohol consumption from the night before. Seungcheol is amused at the sight of a hungover you climbing onto the bus and planting yourself down on a seat.

You pull a pair of sunglasses over your eyes, leaning your head on the headrest as you immediately attempt to curl up and get comfy. Seokmin sits beside you, smiling at you as you grab his hand, placing it directly on top of your head with an intelligible mumble. Seokmin seems to understand, though, as he carefully pulls what hair he can back, starting to braid it delicately and neatly as Seungkwan chuckles with Mingyu at how adorably clingy you can be when you aren’t worrying so much.

Jihoon is unfortunately in the seats directly behind you both with Ji-ah, a small frown on his face as he tries to not stare at you and your hair. He’s so close he can hear you almost purring with content as you start to drift off once more, his stomach twisting in pain as Jeonghan starts the bus to take off.

“Thank you again for keeping her company, last night, Jisoo.” Jihoon can hear Seungcheol murmur to his friend, who is sitting beside Soonyoung.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” He chirps happily, the alcohol’s after effects clearly not bothering him. “I’ve missed my little Goober.” Jihoon scoffs quietly, glancing out the window to try and ignore the conversation but feels his blood run cold for a moment as Jisoo’s voice grows softer.

“Besides, she needed that last night - to be carefree and have someone be there for her the way someone who loves her can, even if it was just for a night.” Everyone understands what Jisoo is implying, including Jihoon as he spots your brother’s soulmate stare at him for a moment through the rear view mirror. He winces, glancing away from the intense gaze, opting to stare at the scenery that is his first home town for the remainder of the short drive.

“Thank you again for dropping me off here, Jeonghan-Oppa.” Ji-ah smiles politely as she stands by the door of the bus. “You could have dropped me with the others at the mall, I would’ve found my way here.”

“Don’t be silly,” Jeonghan smiles at her, having got out of the bus to stretch his legs for a moment. “It’s no trouble at all. I would have rather known you made it here safely and in one piece. I hope your emergency is able to get sorted out quickly.” He gently pats her arm as she smiles sweetly at him.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you in?” Jihoon asks her quietly, and she shakes her head with a smile.

“I’m keeping you guys enough as it is. Go enjoy the beach, kay?” She smiles. Jihoon nods with a little smile.

“Alright then. Message me when you get back home?” He leans in to peck her lips, only to be surprised when instead of her lips, his own meets her cheek.

“Will do, Hoon. Bye!” Ji-ah is quick to grab her suitcase, dashing towards the entrance to the station, leaving Jihoon dumbfounded at the foot of the bus.

Did she just dodge his kiss?

“Jihoon-ah.” Jeonghan’s voice calls to him. If he noticed anything unusual, he doesn’t comment. “You coming?”

Jihoon blinks out of his daze, nodding quickly before climbing back up into the bus and back into his seat.

Jihoon has always loved the beach. Even though he was, as Soonyoung would call it, a certified hermit, as a child he would always find himself spending his weekends at the beach with his parents if the weather called for it. He takes in a deep breath as he tastes the familiar salty air, a small smile of content on his face as he watches the waves lull lazily against the shore.

Only a small number of the group decided to join Seungcheol and Jeonghan at the beach, including himself, Seokmin, Soonyoung, Wonwoo, Mingyu, Seungkwan, Hansol, Jisoo and yourself. He was more than happy with anyone who decided to join them, with the plan being the whole group meet up for dinner at a hotpot restaurant to celebrate Seungcheol’s actual birthday before taking the party back to the campsite for drinks and games.

Seungcheol, Soonyoung and Mingyu are already in the water as Jihoon sits down on his beach chair under a large communal beach umbrella where he and the others have set up for the day. He watches as Seokmin sits with Seungkwan and Hansol, happily making plans for a large, elaborate sandcastle while Wonwoo and Jisoo sit quietly on their towels, having a quiet discussion together. He glances down at his phone to see if Ji-ah has texted him yet, and sighs quietly when he sees no notifications.

“Are you seriously not thinking about getting into the water today, Ladybug?” Jeonghan’s hums in the distance, drawing closer to Jihoon and their things. “I think the cool water would make your hangover better, wouldn’t it?”

“Nope.” Your voice is dull and monotone, mirroring the way you feel. “There are sharks in that water, I refuse.”

“Sharks wouldn’t come up to where the water meets your hips, pabo.”

“I refuse to take that chance.” You wave him off, Jihoon hearing your voices getting closer. “I like swimming in bodies of water that are condensed and clear enough so I know what I’m getting into.”

“Then why are you wearing the bikini if you don’t plan on getting in?” Jeonghan retorts. Jihoon gulps.

“Because I need the tan.” You bark back, Jeonghan simply chuckling as he tickles your sides, causing you (and Jihoon) to jolt and yelp.

Jihoon knows he shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.

Against his better judgement, he turns his head towards where your voice is coming from, choking on his own spit as he sees you; hair braided and sunglasses covering your eyes. You’re wearing a pastel blue and white striped bikini, the little galaxies of your collarbone on full display as you make your way to a beach chair near where Wonwoo is situated.

Jihoon is so fucked.

Real Eyes, Fake Lies Taglist

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Permanent Taglist

@misshale21 @etaerealboy @kawennote09 @im-gemmy @loveless-lie @lixiel0ver @keymins @nen-nyy @i-dont-give-a-fok @miriamxsworld @jojowantstocry @roe-sinning @sun-daddy-yoriichi @coveyland @side-angel @rinalouu @flwerrchild @apobangpowrld

[mulletmitsuya]

Toman Groupchat

Warnings: swearing, suggestive language, might be offensive idk (lmk if it is so i should take it down if necessary) , mentions of birth, mentions of alcohol and weed, gayness

Desc: it's Mitsuya's day of birth

Chifuyu: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MITSUYA-KUN ⚠️❗💜😋😁

Baji: what's up with the emoji's

Mitsuya: thanks Chifuyu

Baji: happy getting out of the pussy day

Mitsuya: 😐

Kazutora: didn't he get circumcised?

Mitsuya: man what

Baji: ...

Baji: fuck that gotta do with what i just said

Baji: you just say shit

Kazutora: i'm talking about his birth method

Kazutora: keep up, Keisuke 😐

Chifuyu: you're so fucking stupid

Kazutora: HOW AM I STUPID

Kazutora: Mitsuya's mom was circumcised

Kazutora: it wasn't a vaginal birth

Kazutora: he was essentially removed, rather than birthed

Baji: "he was essentially removed, rather than birthed🤓👆"

Mikey: bro how do you even know that?

Chifuyu: R U TALKING ABOUT A C-SECTION????

Kazutora: IS THAT WHAT I FUCKING SAID?? NO

Kazutora: i hate talking to stupid mf's 🙄

Baji: i don't understand why people say i'm the stupidest

Draken: *most stupid

Draken: you honestly proved everyone's point

Baji: fuck off

Mitsuya: ok you guys can shut up now

Draken: happy birthday Takashi

Draken: my sworn brother

Draken: my other half

Draken: my twin dragon

Draken: love ya man

Mitsuya: thank you Draken🙂

Baji: did u have socks on

Draken: ...?

Baji: you can't say "i love ya" and "my other half" without any socks on

Baji: it implies a sense homosexuality

Baji: but if you have socks on then it's fine

Draken: i'm sick of you

Baji: bro doesn't have any socks on 💀

Mitsuya: you guys can shut up now x2

Mitsuya: also

Mitsuya: you don't all have to say happy birthday just say it when we meet up cause i feel awkward saying thank you to every single one of you

Mikey: hope you enjoyed my birthday present 💪😎

Mitsuya: yeah...

Mitsuya: the half eaten taiyaki

Mitsuya: appreciate it

Mikey: anything for the homies ❤

Mitsuya: 😒

Draken: where's Hakkai

Draken: surprised he hasn't said anything about your birthday

Mitsuya: he's planning a surprise birthday party

Baji: surprise🤨?

Mitsuya: he told me not to not text him cause he's busy with my surprise birthday party

Mitsuya: i don't think he realized that he told me

Mitsuya: i don't wanna bum him out so i'll still act surprised

Mitsuya: i appreciate it either way

Chifuyu: Takemitchy, Angry and I have been helping him plan this for weeks, and he just fucking told you😐

Mitsuya: i guess lol

Mitsuya: also said he has a surprise for me

Baji: he's gonna tongue you down, i just know it

Mitsuya: stfu

Mikey: are y'all together or not

Mitsuya: don't know what you're taking about

Draken: bro's taking his time

Mikey: Mitsuya you're 21 now

Mikey: it's been 8 years???😭

Smiley: i may not have a birthday present but i'll bring queer and weed

Smiley: since y'all follow the law or whatnot and you're legal now

Smiley: hypocrites

Draken: what's wrong with following the law?

Smiley: you think beating people half to death was fucking legal, Draken?

Draken: well... no

Draken: doesn't mean we should abuse substances, underage

Smiley: ❤H Y P O C R I T E❤

Smiley: and a lot of the people we know smoke so idk why you're all the way in my ass rn

Draken: yeah but cigarettes aren't drugs

Smiley: weed >>>>> cigarettes

Draken: the ability to breath when i'm in my thirties >>>>

Smiley: fair

Baji: wdym you'll bring a queer and weed🤨

Smiley: why would i bring a queer when Mitsuya is literally right there

Smiley: i meant beer

Smiley: pride month changing my damn autocorrect😒

Kazutora: stop saying slurs

Smiley: bro the gays reclaimed that shit

Smiley: it's a blanket term for the ABCDEFG community or whatever the fuck

Draken: i feel like you're being homophobic

Smiley: nuh uh

Smiley: dude look

Smiley: 👬 👭

Smiley: see?😁

Smiley: am i still homophobic?

Baji: he got us there

Draken: wha-

Draken: what the fuck is that supposed to prove?

*Hakkai has gone online*

Hakkai: HI TAKA-CHAN

Hakkai: could you please come over to my place for no particular reason?🤔

Hakkai: hmmmm, it kinda feels like i'm forgetting something

Hakkai: maybe like, a public holiday?

Hakkai: who knows?🤷‍♂️

Hakkai: anyway

Hakkai: let's hang out like the regular days in which we are normal 🤗

Hakkai: see you soon 😁

Mitsuya: ...

Mitsuya: yeah sure Hakkai

Mitsuya: be right over

Hakkai: ❤

*Hakkai has gone offline*

Mikey: 💀

Chifuyu: i hate him

Baji: did he even fucking try

[angellayercake]

face down in décolletage - chapter 1

Papa Emeritus IV x Fem Reader | NSFW | AO3

Disclaimer: Copia talking about being face down in tits has all the feminism leaving my body. I am sorry but he can leer at my boobs any day and I would thank him. So TW for Copia being a fucking perv and kind of degrading but if you are into that we are golden!

For @ghostchems for being feral with me 💜💜 love you!

With a dramatic puff you try to blow the hair sticking to your face away. It was so damn hot today you would rather be anywhere but at work but here you are. Another day, another show. You glance down at your clipboard, Ghost. You think you have heard of them, some kind of religious band from a church. When you had first started working at the venue you used to enjoy excitedly researching all the bands that passed through but now you just looked forward to getting through the night. As you scan down your clipboard you notice your top has ridden down again. You glance around quickly and yank it back up hoping that none of the guys noticed the blue frills of your bra peeking out the top. 

Maybe if you had got up earlier you would have had time to pick a different outfit or even check the weather forecast but as you had rolled out of bed and straight into the only clean clothes you had left you were stuck wearing your most revealing vest top with your most ridiculous push up bra. You had to live with the consequences of your lack of organisation combined with the stifling heat wave that had you sweating in even the little you were wearing. You just had to deal with it. 

The sounds of the buses pulling in draws your attention from your wardrobe woes and back to the job at hand, which for you is making sure the band stay happy for the duration of their stay at the venue. Their rider had been prepared and set up for them and you would be on hand to help them with anything else they needed. You hoped these guys weren’t dicks, there had been a run of assholes recently that had the stupidest demands but that was the job. You watch them pile out onto the forecourt all dressed in black and wearing helmets? Masks? You can’t quite see but they all huddle together just off to the side not approaching the manager who had stepped up to greet them.

A commotion from the bus draws everyone's eyes from the group of strangely dressed musicians and you see the frontman of this band for the first time. He was wearing a burgundy tracksuit, a fake designer shirt and leather brogues. And he had just dropped an armful of juice boxes as he tripped out the bus. He knelt down scrambling to pick them all up, fumbling with the broken packaging until one of the masked people must have taken pity on him, letting him pile them up in their arms. He looks up only now taking notice of all the eyes trained on him. As he straightens up he offers an awkward wave and a forced smile until the venue manager steps forward and introduces themselves. 

After a brief conversation you notice them making their way down the line of staff, which although not unheard of was unusual. The band manager would usually meet with venue staff not the talent but he must have insisted on being introduced to everyone. He shakes people's hands and gestures to the musicians behind him. You glance down at your clipboard as you wait your turn. Papa Emeritus IV and the eight Nameless Ghouls. He was the frontman and leader of the band and the Nameless Ghouls were instrumentalists. Your attention snaps back up when they reach the person beside you and you get your first proper look at him.

He’s not much taller than you and it’s hard to see much of his body under the baggy tracksuit but his face. He was oddly handsome, perfectly proportioned with strong features and carefully slicked back salt and pepper hair. The face paint he wore only accentuated his unusual mismatched eyes. But as he approaches you notice his gaze doesn’t land anywhere near your face. No he is looking directly at your boobs, with his mouth hanging open no less. You know they are very visible today but this middle aged man is gawping at you like a teenager seeing a porn mag for the first time. You clear your throat offering him your hand and he looks up at your face at last. Realising he had been caught a fetching blush grows across his cheeks that you find slightly adorable in spite of his leering. He takes your hand but as you attempt to shake it he tries to bring it up to his face. The back of your hand ends up squashed against his nose and you can feel his lip paint smudging on you. He drops your hand so quickly the momentum swings it away from you and his face is almost as red as his tracksuit when he moves on. What an odd man.  

You don’t see him much for the rest of the day, you are kept so busy keeping the ‘Nameless Ghouls’ in line. They are a fun bunch, quite mischievous but polite in spite of it all. The few times you do see him you can feel his eyes all over you and you find your annoyance building. What was with this guy? You had since discovered that he was the leader of not only this very satanic rock band but also the associated religious organisation, he was well into his fifties and while he was attractive you had to admit he was really quite odd. You shrug it off though. There was only an hour left until the show and although your manager would help you if you complained, something, you weren’t sure what, was stopping you. 

By the time the supporting act had finished it was all hands on deck to get the transition completed smoothly. Your arms are full of the discarded outfits of the supporting band so you can get them to the laundry when you pass by his dressing room but you are so consumed with your thoughts you fail to notice when the door opens and he steps out in front of you. You collide into him with a bump dropping everything that was piled in your arms at his feet.  

‘Papa Emeritus! I’m so sorry.’ It is not lost on you that you are now taking your turn to fumble around on the floor in front of him or that where he is standing above you gives him a perfect view down your top. Your arms full once again you kneel slowly, noticing all the differences about him as you go. The scuffed brogues are gone, replaced with perfectly shined expensive looking boots. His slim calves were covered in tight denim which clung all the way up his legs. His thighs were covered in ripped fabric that did nothing to hide the shape of them. It’s lucky your hands are full because just as he seemed unable to not look at your tits you might not be able to resist running your hands up his thighs and... Your mouth goes dry when you notice the lace up fly on his trousers but you stop that thought short. 

His jacket, while interesting, as distressed as his trousers with dramatic gold detailing and epaulettes, it's his face that captures your attention. He reaches down helping you back to your feet and as you stand you just stare taking in all the details of his stark black and white face paint. He is transformed, not just in how he looks although his painted face and sharp clothes differ so much from earlier. No, his whole demeanour has shifted. His nervous smile is replaced by an easy confident smirk when you meet his eyes, clearly having noticed your appraisal of him. 

‘You better be coming to watch the show cara mia.’ he says as he begins to walk away from you. Occasionally you do find time to catch the performances more often you are busy all evening but the way he says it feels like an order more than a request

‘I will try after I have finished my …’ he spins back round fixing you with a demanding look. 

‘No you will. I am not asking.’ He steps towards you, close to boxing you in against the closed door of his dressing room. ‘Your job is to make me happy, no? And what will make me happy is you watching the show from the side where I tell you.’ His proximity and commanding tone broker no argument so you just nod in agreement but he doesn’t give you room, just raises his eyebrows as if to communicate he is still waiting.  

‘Yes Papa.’ you breath hoping that was the answer he was waiting for. 

‘Bene, I will look for you cara, do not disappoint me.’ Only then does he stalk off with only a few minutes to spare. 

With the threat of his disappointment hanging over you you rush through the last of your tasks before making your way to the stage. He is waiting to the side as the last checks are completed. You don’t approach him as he seems to be deep in his preparations but he spots you as he paces, nodding and pointing to an out of the way area where you still have a good view. You can hear the crowd cheering in anticipation and in only a few minutes the lights go down and the music starts to swell. He has kept up his pacing back and forth, occasionally jogging on the spot as he waits for his cue. Your attention is drawn to the stage as the pyrotechnics soar and the guitars kick in and then running up to the centre of the stage in the midst of it all is him.

The show could only be described as mesmerising. Both Papa and the Ghouls had the crowd in the palm of their hand as they performed song after song. The costume changes and confetti, the smoke and the sparks, you couldn’t look away. You almost wished you were down in the audience so you could experience it properly. However there was one particular benefit to your position and that was having a clear view of Papa’s wardrobe. Everytime he hurried back for a new outfit or prop you received a smile or a wink and as time went on more and more heated looks. You weren’t entirely sure why he had wanted you there but you got the feeling you would enjoy whatever it was. 

He had announced their last song to cries of despair from the crowd but that only seemed to spur them on giving a rousing performance and he left the stage to a roar of appreciation. The ghouls continued playing as he ducked into the wardrobe for the last time, shrugging off the black jacket he was currently wearing in exchange for a dazzling blue sequined one. It reflected the light even in the dark corner of the stage you were both in. Instead of running back on stage though, this time he approached you.

‘Now there is something I need your help with cara mia, please follow me.’ He takes your hand and pulls you with him towards the narrow backstage corridor.  It is very rarely used now but it was originally for performers to get from one side of the stage to the other with no hindrance but what he could need your help with here you had no idea. About halfway down he stops suddenly manoeuvring you between him and the wall in the narrow corridor

‘You hear them all screaming for me cara mia?’ He asks with a smirk. He knows full well you can hear the screaming that's why you have your ear protectors slung around your neck. His arm rests on the wall above your head bringing him so close you can feel the heat radiating off of him, and smell the spicy scent of his cologne and his exertion. He’s taller than earlier, his fancy boots giving him a boost so although he is far from towering over you, this close you need to make an effort to look up at him as you speak. 

‘You must be happy, knowing that all those thousands of people enjoyed your show.’ It is quite obvious where this conversation is headed but you are curious to see how exactly he plans to proposition you when the memory of him fumbling his juice boxes is so fresh in your memory.

‘Si that should make me happy but really there is only one person I want to hear screaming tonight.’ His piercing mismatched eyes burn into yours and you know he is talking about you. You almost can’t breathe from the intensity and you wonder how this could be the same man as earlier. The only real similarity is the way his eyes trail down from your face all the way to your cleavage. Forcing yourself to finally take a deep breath you watch his eyes follow the rise and fall of your chest and you feel an unexpected heat rising within you. You weren’t a stranger to men staring at your boobs, it kind of came with the territory and usually someone staring this blatantly would earn a slap, but you enjoyed his eyes on you and it only made you want more, as it had all day. He leans in until he is close enough to whisper directly in your ear. 

‘Would you like this? A little after party just for us?’ His voice is low and seductive and you are only really able to hear him because he is so close you are almost touching. ‘For me to give you your own private performance, show you all my best moves then make you scream for me?’ Without saying much of anything at all he paints such a vivid picture and you want all of it. You could feel his painted lips brushing your ear ever so slightly as you leaned in and you knew what your answer was going to be. 

‘I … yes. Please.’ You feel his mouth pull into a grin as he steps even closer, his body flush with yours. You expect him to move to do something but he just continues to look at you, eyes burning into your already flushed and overheated skin. The leer he is giving you as he looks down your top shouldn’t be making you feel this way and yet you find yourself somehow desperate for the touches that look threatens. 

‘Thank you, cara,’ he pinches your chin tilting it up to just the right angle so that he can slot his mouth against yours, except he doesn’t. No he locks you in with his gaze, keeping you hypnotised and still as he ghosts his lips across your cheek and down your neck and as his lips finally make contact at the juncture of your neck and collar bone do you realise that he was just positioning you to get unhindered access to your chest. But as he settles his hands on your waist and begins to gently suck your sensitive skin you can’t even bring yourself to be annoyed. 

You lean your head back against the wall behind you and let your eyes drop closed so you can just concentrate on the feeling of his mouth on you. He nibbles along your collarbone soothing the marks with his tongue as he goes before dipping lower. He moans as his lips meet the curve of your breast and he stops, sucking a deep mark right in the centre before sinking his teeth into your soft flesh. It’s not deep and he doesn’t seem intent on inflicting pain on you, just feeling your body give way to him. You find your fingers woven in his hair not sure whether your intention was to push him away or pull him further in but you do neither and just let him take what he wishes. As he finishes marking you he licks a trail following the curve down into your cleavage and back up to the other side, peppering kisses everywhere he can reach. 

‘Mmmm,’ he moans as if he was eating his favourite meal. ‘So good cara mia, so perfect.’ He slides his hands up from your waist until they are cupping your breasts, spreading them apart so there is just enough room to bury his face between them. His moans are muffled in his new position but that doesn’t stop you noticing him getting louder. His hands start a slow massaging squeeze that has you moaning, turning into a whine when he stops, hooking his fingers into the top of your bra and pulling back to look at you. The heat and his touches have turned your brain to mush so it takes you a moment to realise he is asking you a question and a moment longer to register what it is. 

‘May I?’ he asks, starting to pull at your already revealing neckline. You can feel his knuckles brushing your nipples and you can only imagine how much better it will feel if you allow him full access. He is watching you intently so he catches your slight nod and slowly reveals them to his hungry eyes letting your top and bra bunch up just underneath like he doesn’t have the patience to wait to remove them properly. You watch his eyes light up as he sees your pierced nipples, the small gems glinting as you move even in the harsh light of the corridor. 

‘Così bella mia cara,’ he whispers as he ghosts his mouth over you, the tip of his tongue flicking at one nipple then the other. He grins up at you as you gasp, his teasing touch feeling almost too much already. You think back to a moment ago when you compared him to all the other men that you caught gawping at your cleavage. You had been so wrong. Never had you had such attention lavished on you, turning you to putty in his hands just from this. He sealed his lips around a nipple, sucking it into his mouth and toying with the piercing with his tongue and the other he rolled between his fingers twisting and pulling and pinching. Your fingers tighten in his hair, encouraging him closer. He pulls off your nipple with a pop, kissing and licking across until his whole face is between them finally relinquishing your other nipple so he can push them together while shaking his head back and forth. 

‘Papa?,’ another voice intrudes into your consciousness and you all of a sudden remember where you are and who you are with and the thousands of people waiting for an encore. You try to jump away from him but you are so securely pinned between him and the wall. He pulls away just as the footsteps get closer tucking you back into your top. His face paints are surprisingly intact although there are grey smudges all over you there is no hiding what was being done to you. ‘Papa,’ the stage assistant says as they round the corner and find you. ‘They are all still here calling for more.’

‘Excuse my cara. I am needed,’ he winks at you, gesturing for the assistant to go on ahead. He steps towards you pining you back in place tilting your chin up to force you to look at him once again. ‘But if you want to continue this, be in my dressing room at the end of the show.’ He turns on his heel heading in the same direction only to pause before he rounds the corner. ‘And I want you undressed.’ You are surprised your knees hadn’t buckled yet you were so worked up, the possibilities of what would happen if you followed his instructions buzzing in your mind. 

The crescendo of screams as he walks back on the stage breaks you from your reverie, and forces you into action. You don’t even need to think, the decision already made by your racing heart and your wet pussy. You push off the wall knowing you only have three songs to follow his instructions but you don’t need to rush just yet as you can still hear him addressing the crowd. Exiting the corridor on the other side of the stage you listen for a moment. He hushes their screams so he can banter with them for a moment.

‘I was already at the after show party,’ He says gesturing behind him to the fictional afterparty. You laugh to yourself starting to head towards the dressing room so you can get ready for what you are sure is going to be a memorable night. But the next words out of his mouth freeze you on the spot. ‘You know I had my face down in some decolletage and someone said that they are still all here.’ A laugh barks out of you in disbelief. That smug sexy bastard! 

[soupandcats]

Sorry abt the big ask, but your colours are always really vibrant and interesting! They seem both saturated and subdued. What’s your general method for choosing them or are there any tricks/layer modes you use?

Thank you! This is gonna be a long one sorry😭

My favorite digital art trick for color is the curves tool! In procreate you press the wand tool in the top left corner (Adjustments) > Curves. I recommend just playing around with this until something you like happens.

Here’s a study I did with pretty standard colors.

Here are some versions of it after moving the curves around.

What I like about this is it’s a really quick way of changing the color scheme that’s more precise than applying a filter. It lets you see how far you can push things outside of what’s expected!

When I first started digital art I had so much trouble with color because unlike traditional, the colors have the ability to be fully opaque. With traditional if you’re doing a painting the paints/colored pencils/etc will naturally mix with one another creating a more cohesive overall image.

Here’s a drawing I did in 2020. As you can see it’s incredibly saturated. When I was picking colors I was working in the most saturated section for nearly every color.

These days even when I’m trying to make something super colorful I’ll force myself to desaturate it more than I think I need to. There are two ways to desaturate something. You can move it towards white or towards black.

Another thing I try to keep in mind is that colors look different based on what colors are around them. If you put gray next to a color it will look like that color’s complement. If you put a warm color next to a cool color they’ll amplify one another making both look more intense. In that same way if I put a super saturated color against a more neutral background the color will look even brighter.

I like this tapestry by Sheila Hicks. See how the orange is glowing against the more muted purples and blues?

Another thing I try to keep in mind is value. Like color it’s influenced by its surroundings. If you place a lighter color over a dark background it will look brighter than over a light background.

So in a piece the eye will be drawn to the areas of highest contrast first. And area that’s similar in both value and hue will recede into the background.

I really am not an expert on color I have so much to learn. I recommend Marco Bucci’s videos as well as the book The Art of Color if you’d like more detailed+accurate info! Color theory is the most fascinating thing I’m obsessed with it.

You don’t really need to know theory to be good at color though! Just playing around and figuring out what you like (I LOVE PURPLE) will make you better!

The most satisfying thing is when you’re making a drawing and you decide to add a little gray or a little orange or whatever and suddenly your piece just starts to SING!!!! (That purple/blue/orange part of the Sheila Hicks tapestry is singing to me it will forever make me happy)

Anyways I hope this helps! 💜💜💜

[kissingghouls]

From the prompts you posted…how about “are you ok?” with Phantom. Maybe a sibling finds a newly summoned Phantom wandering around in the middle of the night and they’re worried about him.

Anon, this was such a lovely idea and I am so so SO happy for this to be my very first prompt. 💜💜💜

Couch Club

Phantom x GN!Reader FLUFF and a dash of comfort. 1k words.

The abbey was always a strange place, but its creepiness increased tenfold in the dead of night. The haze of incense hung in the long, dark hallways like a fog that would never clear. It seeped into every inch of the grounds, riding on the echoes of rhythmic chants from the chapel and settling like a fine dust on the portraits of Papas past. The shadows seemed to multiply, collecting in corners until they appeared as solid shapes. One could never be sure if something might emerge from the darkness, but the shadows usually stayed shadows. Usually.

Sleepily you padded down the hall with your favorite blanket wrapped tight around your shoulders. Insomnia was a special kind of hell—and not the fun one where things you were familiar with resided. It was a Sisyphean prison you were used to, but that didn’t make it any less annoying when all you wanted to do was go to bed. Instead, you haunted the hallways as usual, searching for something to occupy your over-active brain. The library was too far and probably locked after the last time a certain Papa had left an unbelievable mess in there after hours. The kitchens were too noisy and full of Siblings who would shoo you out of the way while they prepared baked goods for the entire abbey. Sometimes you would hang around the gardens and stare up at the sky while giving the stars new names, but it was far too cold out for that tonight.

You pushed your way into the common room, the heavy door groaning loud enough behind you to wake the dead. There was a corner of the sofa that you found particularly comfortable on nights like these, a little space you had claimed once upon a time and had fallen asleep in more than once.

As a tired yawn ripped through your body as you shuffled toward your tiny empire. A figure sat up and turned toward you in the dark, sending you stumbling backward over your blanket with a horrified scream. You landed with a crash, banging your elbow on the snack machine on the way down. It spit peanut M&Ms at you as the figure jumped over the back of the sofa, spewing a stream of apologies.

“Wha? Phantom?” you asked as the light from the hallway touched his face. The newly summoned ghoul offered you a sheepish smile. He hadn’t been around long, but the two of you had managed to become friendly in that short time, bonding over your collective love of old monster movies.

“I’m so sorry,” he said again as he lifted you from the floor. “I didn’t think anyone would be in here.”

“I didn’t either,” you added with a laugh, trying to rub that awful feeling out of your elbow.

“I—I’m sorry I’ll get out of your way,” he mumbled and brushed past you.

“Hey,” you called softly after him. “You don’t have to leave. I’m pretty sure there’s room for both of us.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I can find somewhere else to be.”

“Phantom? Are you ok?”

He forced a smile. “Yeah, sure. Well…no. I don’t know. It’s ok.”

You reached for his hand and gave it a little squeeze. “Can I help?”

He stared down at your hand in his, flexing his fingers and gently closing them around yours again. “You’re warm.”

“Am I?” you asked with a laugh.

“Yeah. It’s nice, you know?” He shook his head and swiped at his face. “Ugh, of course you don’t. I’m sorry, it’s just—I can’t get warm up here and the fire ghouls kick too much to try to sleep in one of their rooms. And everyone says I’ll get used to it eventually, but…no luck yet.”

You couldn’t help but notice that he was wearing a hoodie, sweatpants, and the thickest pair of socks you’d ever seen. “Not even with those?”

He shook his head. “Mountain made these for me. He said they should help, but they kind of just make my feet sweat.”

You scrunched up your face. “That sounds awful.”

“Yeah, so…anyway shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“Oh, I have trouble sometimes, so I come down here instead.”

“Does it help?”

“Most nights,” you replied with a shrug. “There’s something about that sofa that just works, I guess.”

“Well, I’ll uh get out of your way then.”

You cleared your throat nervously. “I’m pretty sure the sofa is big enough for both of us if you want to try it out.”

He couldn’t hide the little spark of magic in his eyes as they lit up. “Really?”

“Yeah, of course. I get that corner though,” you told him, pointing to the space you liked.

“I think can live with that.”

“And don’t even think about putting your sweaty feet on me,” you warned.

He laughed and promised to keep his feet to himself as you both settled on the sofa. Limbs bumped in awkward positions followed by whispered apologies and tiny, embarrassed laughs. After several minutes and many different variations, you and the ghoul finally got comfortable under your blanket. He curled up against you, tangling his legs with yours as you draped an arm around his middle. The two of you began to fall asleep almost instantly, wrapped around each other in a way that finally allowed Phantom to feel warmth.

In the morning you found yourselves mostly in the same position, bodies pressed together so closely there was enough room for Rain to sit at the other end of the sofa. He shot you a little wave and went back to focusing on his cereal as Phantom groaned against your shoulder.

“I don’t want to be awake yet,” he whined and held you a little tighter. “I haven’t slept that well since I got here.”

“Glad I could help,” you managed through a yawn.

“Yes, thank you.” He followed up with a yawn of his own. “Whadda ya say we do this again sometime?”

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Closed Position: Deconstructing Dieter Bravo

Closed Position Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist I did a Deconstructing Dieter Bravo series for Destiny & Deliverance, so I thought it might be fun to continue that tradition with Closed Position since this Dieter does have some interesting things going on that we can delve deeper into.

I had several people comment/dm me about two things after the first chapter that I think would be fun to discuss further. Those were of course, Dieter’s plant hobby and the fluffy menace hanging around his house.

To most, these two things may seem very random and unrelated. However, they really aren’t. They do serve a bigger purpose to the story…because of course they do. When do I ever not have deeper meaning behind something, right? 😏

Plant Dad Dieter

First, I have included some more Dieter aesthetic pictures above that I had saved. It's a whole ✨vibe✨. Second, I must thank @readingiskeepingmegoing for coming up with the new #PlantDadDieter hashtag… because it’s so on point. I’m totally going with it! 💜

On to the good stuff...what have we learned about Dieter after the first installment? I think we can safely identify three things: he spends a lot of time alone, he feels misunderstood, and he doesn’t appear to have any deep or meaningful relationships. This will be a theme that comes up a lot with him, especially starting in Week 2 when we open with him having a chat with his therapist.

How does this relate to plants, you ask? Let’s start with Dieter’s history…the man has never had a real relationship. He’s never connected with anyone, whether that be friend or significant other. He was a party boy that indulged in the physical pleasures of life while avoiding any real intimacy. Most of his relationships were based on sex and favors. We will worry about why he is this way later, but for now, just know that’s where he's at emotionally.

Dieter has never really had a bond with anyone or anything. Now that he is sober and realizing how alone he is, he’s seeking that connection any way he can and doesn’t even really realize it (yet).

Sure, being a plantsman does have perks as it is relaxing and can have a positive impact on one’s mental health. However, it’s causing Dieter to learn how to care about something - how to be selfless and nurturing with his time. He has to put in a lot of effort to keep everything alive and healthy and he quickly realizes that putting in that time and energy makes him happy. Also, the plants don't judge him or his past.

Now, for some fun stuff because some of you asked…

Does Dieter talk to his plants? He 100% talks to the plants. He doesn’t know if it actually does anything, but he figures it can’t hurt to try. It also helps him feel less alone as he does see them as living things. They do breathe, eat, and drink after all.

Does Dieter name his plants? I’m inclined to say that he names his favorites. All the others just have random nicknames that change based on their appearance. Like...the "thirsty dramatic bitch" that gets weepy and needs to be watered and turned in the sunlight daily.

Dieter’s Furry Squatter

And let the collective aww's be heard! 🤭

So, I pulled a few pics from Pinterest of what I envision Dieter's furry little visitor looks like. I see it as an adorably fluffy young Maine Coon kitty.

👉 Fun Fact: "The name 'Maine Coon' was adopted after the state of the breed's origin, Maine, and after the early belief that the cat was in fact the result of crossing between domestic breeds and raccoons." (from VioVet)

Funny story, I did not know that fact before choosing this breed. It looks like it was meant-to-be for our loveable trash panda. 😂

Now, I am sure you're asking; how does the cat relate to the plants? The cat serves the same purpose when we think about Dieter's relationships...or lack thereof.

Again, Dieter is craving companionship. He is still reluctant, but this little nugget will eventually become a loving companion for him. It's another avenue for him to create an emotional connection with something. He will learn how to care for the kitty and build a bond. Though the little menace can be a bit sassy, like the plants, it also doesn't judge Dieter by his past. What do you think Dieter should name it? I'm taking suggestions in the comments. 😉

In an odd way, the plants and cat do help Dieter grow as a person. It's baby steps in his personal growth journey. Honestly, as Katrina gets to know Dieter on a more personal level, these are two things that she absolutely loves about him, mostly because it's two things that are unexpected and show what a sweetheart he really is. She sees the good in him even if he can't see it himself.

That's it for your little extra bit of insight...until next time.

💜Mysty

Series Summary: Dieter Bravo, now sober, was looking to change his bad boy image after hitting rock bottom. His team hoped that having him join the nationally televised family friendly dance competition would be a good first step, if they can keep him out of trouble.

Katarina Stamos expected her last season as a professional dancer on Dancing with the Stars to go the same as it had for the past thirteen seasons. That all changed when she was partnered with the infamous Dieter Bravo.

Dieter and Katarina are reluctantly thrown into their partnership and must learn to work together to succeed in the competition. In the process they form a deeper connection beyond the dance floor that neither anticipated.

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence, alcohol abuse, and drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

Closed Position Taglist: @secretelephanttattoo @titlee78 @maggiemayhemnj @legendary-pink-dot @morallyinept @survivingandenduring  @wannab-urs @harriedandharassed @hisandsnakes @misstokyo7love @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @sin-djarin @cakipy-blog @missladym1981 @guelyury @weho2kcmo @alokaerza @girlofchaos @trulybetty @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @jazzloveslatte @timpletance @musings-of-a-rose @samiamproductions @myloveistoolittle @for-a-longlongtime  @copperhalfcent @auteurdelabre @drewharrisonwriter @burntheedges @stevie75 @bunniboo0015 @quicax3 @jackie923 @sherala007 @pastelnap

*If your blog name is marked out, it would not let me tag you. You will need to change your visibility settings for that to work going forward.

[thedragonqueen1998]

Today at work i got insanly inspired to write and once i got off work, i immidiently went on my phone to type it out. XD I just finished a 3 hour long writing ses(had a 15 minute food break in the middle). ^^ Probably just gonna forever gonna be a wip thing, but it was fun and i'm kinda proud of it. Despite it being rough in some parts, mostly because i wanted to rush to the 2nd half and i didn't wanna get stuck, i'm happy to share it. ^^

It's a kinda long, so i'm gonna add a Read more line to not fill your dash with text. Also, first time trying formatting out! XD

So, originally this post was just gonna be a "i actually wrote something! Look!" thing, just showing of some work i did, but after writing the reason why i wrote a line a certain way, it went into something very sad and kinda dark, so if you don't wanna read about death, a light mention of suicidal thought and grief... just stop after What even is my life.

Idk why i wrote it, but it took alot of effort and it feels... important to me, i guess. Part of processing and such. So, yeah. Read at your discretion. Thank you for your time. 💜

Ezio had many regrets in his long life. Not being there when his father and brothers were arrested. Of not being there more for his sister and mother. Of not trying to be together with Cristina. Not being able to save her. Or being able to save Uncle Mario and Monteriggioni. But biggest of all, not having spent more time with his family before the execution.

He had love, but didn't cherish it. Didn't truly feel it and took it for granted. But unlike so many others, Ezio could take those regrets and change them. Thanks to Desmond.

When he walked into the Library, he thought he might get an answer or two in return for many more. He truly didn't expect that calling out Desmonds name while the Apple bathed the walls in gold would result in it being answered by the being himself.

The being looked like a man, clad in a white light, eminating from a strange device under his right arm. His face looked like an exact replica of Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad's face, though his build was closer to his. Broad shoulders hidden underneath a strange hooded white doublet and long legs wearing strange tight fitted pants made from a material he did not recognise. Even the scar was the same as his! Was Ezio made in the image of the one he was the Prophet for? Was Altaïr the herald? All questions Ezio wondered, but not knowing if Desmond was like Minerva or not, he dared not waste any questions if the beings patient was thin.

But first: "Are you Desmond?" He had to know, have it confirmed, even if the being appeared after the name was called.

"Ezio? Is this the Library? Am i seriously bleeding while dying!?" Desmond was looking around at the empty tomb, before his eyes returned upon Ezio.

"Yes, this is Altaïr's library. You are bleeding? I do not see any blood and you are dying!? Is there anything i can do to help you? Please, my lord. Tell me what i need to do to save you." Ezio was desperate to know his purpose and if all his life lead to this moment, where he could save Desmonds life, he would fulfill it.

"There's nothing you can do. I am dying semi willingly and even if this is some Animus infused death hallucination, it is nice having my last moments with you, even if your not really here. I am so sorry i couldn't answer any of your questions or try to save you from losing everything. You never deserved any of it. In the end it didn't really even matter. I am sorry you wasted your time chasing riddles and ghosts." He looked so grieve struck while saying it and the look Desmond had while gazing down onto Ezio could only be described as lovingly.

"What do you mean? Could you have saved my uncle!? My father and brothers!? Why didn't you if you do not think i deserved it! I have served the Brotherhood almost my entire life, sacrificed so much trying to find out what Minerva meant and now your telling me that it was all for nothing!? If you think i wasted my time then give it back!"

Desmonds eye's widen before softly smiling and saying: "Your right, you wasted your time and sacrificed too much for nothing. Let's change that."

Before Ezio knew it, the world went white and he knew nothing more.

—————

When Ezio awoke, it was to a bed he hadn't seen in almost 40 years. His childhood bed and his room. He couldn't believe it. He was given a second chance. To live his life. To right wrongs. To save his family! To think going to the Library would result in this!

At the thought of the Library, Ezio suddenly remembered Sofia. To have forgotten her and even abandoned her without a second thought left Ezio feeling guilty. Would she wait outside the Library before realising he would never come back? Or because he is now in the past, a past where he intends to change the future, would she never meet him? Never exist? The thought of her hurt, but like so many others, Ezio knew that him being in her life would have risked hers. Even if she knew and accepted it, it is still better if she never got the chance to know him and inevitibly suffer because of it. Same with Cristina. Though he could now choose her, he knew that despite the many mistakes in his life, the Brotherhood was not one of them and his refusal to properly let her go killed her. Letting that life affect her once again was too cruel. It was for the better to just let her go.

Federico nudged him with his elbow. "Brother, what has you thinking so hard you look like you bit into something bitter?"

"Nothing much, just wondering what i should get." Ezio smiled and laughed. He was currently out with his family on a trip the market. The last time around, he had decided to sneak off to spend some time with a girl he didn't even remember the name of anymore instead of spending time with his loved ones, to his great shame and regret. This was the last thing his family had done together outside of dinners before the execution in 3 days. That he missed out on it was one of his biggest regrets, but Desmond let him change it.

That Ezio might never truly understand or know what or who Desmond is, how he watched him in the Vault or even what Minerva's people and the Pieces of Eden truly were will forever haunt him, but the trade to see his family again and to even be able to save them is a fair trade. He can go his life wondering these questions and maybe try to find them now that he will have more time, thanks to already knowing the Templars plans and who will be an enemy or ally.

He felt a finger poke him inbetween his eyebrows.

"There you go again Brother. Thinking too hard! Be careful or you might hurt yourself." Federico teased before yelping and then laughing when Ezio pushed him.

"Please don't start fighting now sons." Their father said before turning back to the stall owner to continue discussing what wares to buy and the prices.

"Sorry Father!" Ezio said before giving his brother a teasing look that promised this was not over.

Ezio remembered this day well enough. Not to remember the woman he decided to chase, but enough to know that when his family had been at the market a horse had run wild there and according to Claudia, nearly trampled her down in the confusion.

He was a bit sceptical to believe it was as close as she had made it out to be, but he knew horses much better now than he did before. After years of riding them to and from places in the chase for his targets, he knew that having one running towards you in a blind panic could scare anyone. Even though he knew to be wary of them and treat them with respecy during his original childhood, he didn't truly get how these gentle beings could be as scary as his sister had made the poor creature out to be.

According to his family, it had been a war horse, bloodied, running around in a blind panic, probably scared from a skirmish. Being chased by guards hadn't helped and eventually the guards got a good shot at it and put it down.

Ezio wanted to save his sister years of fearing horses, so he kept an eye and a ear out for any signs that the animal was on it's way.

There. A scream. Everyone stopped and looked around for the source. The source was still hidden by the crowds, but in the distance you could start seeing people moving away from something coming this way and the screams were getting closer.

Ezio breathed and slipped into his Second Sight, the Eagle Vision, as he now knew Altaïr had called it. Or more accuratly, Eagle Sense. With the years, his constant use and need for it had changed his Sight. It had become much stronger, letting him see farther, expanded his hearing, to let him hear his enemies heartbeat and even know what moves they were going to make. Even let him know where his enemies was going to go on a patrol route.

It truly was a gift and now he would use it to try and predict where the animal would go, as to lead his sister and family away from the danger. Then he saw it. The shine of something important. Something that glowed as strongly as the Apple of Eden had. The horse.

There was much about his Gift he could not explain. He had tried, but it is much like explaining sight to a blind person. Why things he didn't even know about could glow gold and lead him to the answer. Why allies glowed blue and enemies red, nor how he could tell friend from foe and now. His Sight told him, with the same intuition as telling friend from foe, that this horse was Desmond.

How is Desmond here? Why? Did he lie about dying? Or was certain death only a large chance that Desmond beat? Ezio supposed it did not matter. If he lets events play as they had before, Desmond would be struck down by an arrow within minutes. Oh, maybe Desmond had tried to prevent his father and brothers demise, but was struck down in the attempt? Though, why choose to do it as a rampaging horse? Either way, Desmond was clearly panicking, almost upon him now. If Ezio could not calm him down, his death was guaranteed.

But how? Ezio has just seconds now to plan a way to stop him before he is trampled down.

Then, he finally realises, that among the bright gold he shines, he also glowes blue. Such a deep colour which he has only seen in the greatest friends or closest family and he knows, Desmond would never harm him. The look of pure love on Desmonds face made more sense now.

So Ezio decides to not move and simple raise up his hands, as if to pet the horse.

"EZIO!"

————

Desmond was in pain. He knew that Juno lied about his death being quick and painless, but god, why did it have to hurt so much!? During his hallucination, it wasn't nearly so bad! And can't forget the weird nightmare he's having ontop of it. He's a goddamned horse on some battlefield. He was rearing up when the nightmare started, neighing as his rider was shot and killed by an arrow.

There's so much blood. The smell strikes fear in his heart. There's so much red. He slips into Eagle Vision and there's even more red. Not a spec of blue. A sword slides against the armor he is wearing and the screech of metal is too much. He bolts.

He needs to run. Away from the monsters with sharp sticks. Away from the smell of blood and death. Away from the shadows hiding hunters. They follow him. They chase him for a long time.

He is getting so tired.

He needs to get back to the barn. His owner would make everything alright. He would croon soft noises he did not understand, but the tone was soft and gentle. He would give him a treat while brushing him down after a hard days work.

He did ride him into scary battles he did not understand, but afterwards he would wash and groom him extra thoroughly, while feeding him the best apples, crooning more sounds in a happy tone. He would repeat one of the few sounds he understood, which meant "him" and "pay attention to me".

Dante.

But he wasn't on his back anymore and he didn't hear his voice. Just the loud, scary noises of more men in the shiny hard thing. They had the pointy sticks too and tried to take the things dangling from his mouth. Only his owner can touch that! Only he is to be trusted with them.

Running is getting harder, there is large, straight hills in the way and the path is narrower with many strangers in it.

There is still so much red. He can still smell the blood, feel it clotting his fur. Too much red!

Blue.

Suddenly there's blue in front of him. He knows blue means ally. Though why and how this person is blue confuses him. But he is Blue and running him over is not good, but why is he standing there!? Does he not see the red!? Smell it!? Does he not understand we need to run!?

"Desmond"

That single word pierces the fog of fear and wild panic that has flooded Desmonds mind. Ezio is in front of him, hand already gripping the reigns while the other rests on his muzzle.

"There we go Desmond, everything is alright."

Desmond still feels phantom threads of fear, but with Ezio's calming blue glow and his voice saying gentle reassurances, it feels far away.

Now with his mind fully human and not driven by horse instincts or memories, the question becomes: How and why the fuck is he a horse in 15th century Italy with Ezio!?

What even is his life.

————

So, a couple parts i'm stupidly happy about is the "He had love, but didn't cherish it. Didn't truly feel it and took it for granted." part. This, as you can probably tell was inspired by the famous quote "When I was a young man, I had liberty, but I did not see it. I had time, but I did not know it. And I had love, but I did not feel it."

I believe Ezio didn't fully understand liberty until he tried to live a peaceful life with Sofia and realised he would always fear Templars taking revenge on his family and time, because the knowledge that he would never see his children grow up to adults had never been a concern before he met Sofia. He probably thought he wouldn't have a family at all.

But love. Love he would understand what he missed. He would understand it just days after he lost his father and brothers. Those moments you missed out on. Of opportunities to spend time that you squandered away. Time you will never get back, because in real life we don't have time travel.

And now i understand it. Before the end of the last year, i was like Ezio before the loss. Before i lost my grandparents only a few weeks apart.

Those opportunities to spend time was rare and thankfully i took most of them, but i still squandered it away by not actually spending time with them. I just visited and hid away in my room, wasting the time by sitting on the phone.

I will forever regret that because ny memory is shit and besides a few childhood ones, i have no memories of them. I still remember their voices, they were pretty distinct thankfully, but how long until i forget that.

It hurts and as someone who is afraid of death and it's finality, such a reminder that time and love is finite is soulcrushing. It is only recently that i have truly started to think of my grandparents and i guess try to process the fact they are gone forever.

When we first got the news that my grandpa had died, i was even more glued to my phone, not wanting to acknowledge what was happening. I also didn't wanna sleep and only got some when i passed out from exhaustion. We even went to the doctor to get time of work and some sleep medication i didn't dare end up taking.

I even had thoughts of just taking all the pills and just sleeping, to get away from the pain forever. But i'm thankfully too much of a coward, so it just stayed thoughts. I'm doing much better now and as i mentioned, i think i'm starting to process the fact that they are gone.

So, yeah. This post went in a direction i didn't expect. But it feels important and maybe in a few years i can look back at this post and see a snapshot of who i was and reflect on who i am now. So, here's to the future me and anyone else who needs to hear it:

I hope things are going well and if they're not... well, things get better. They always do. You're loved and even if your loved ones are gone, they live on in you. You will carry that love with you, for the rest of your life. 💜

[miss-nandini]

May I request angst with Idia x f!reader? Like taking place after his overblot? Idia distances himself from reader because he hurt her during the fight? And when reader confronts him about how distant he has been in their relationship they end up arguing and he yells that he is afraid of losing her the same way he lost Ortho? Happy ending please! I love angsts with happy endings 😭😭🖤🖤🖤

A/N: Hey there! I hope you are doing well. Yes, you are absolutely correct. Happy endings are lovely 💜💜💜

I don't want to lose you! (F! Reader)

This anguished love,

This flawed love...

Idia Shroud, the super introverted depressed genius and a strange otaku guy. He is a weird one indeed, Idia who holes himself him in his room for weeks, Idia who has only one friend—that friend is a robot HE made. Ortho is his everything. It's hard to understand him. Barely anyone can get along with him, yet... why didn't you give up on him?

You are (Y/N) (L/N), brighter than the sunlight, so soft, so kind, so beautiful, so understanding. Are you even human? In his eyes, you should rank higher than an angel.

He doesn't deserve you—he never did and he never will, not after he almost killed you. Sure, you are still alive, sure you still clean up after your troublemaker friends, sure you are trying to talk to him— why are you even trying?

He is a stranger (Y/N)! You two only know each other because STYX messed up! No, just playing multi-player games online doesn't count. Sure, you two got closer over time, but that is still no excuse!

You thought otherwise. Maybe that's exactly why you were banging on your upper-class man's door for the past few minutes.

"Idia, please! You have to talk to me! I'm not going anywhere until you open this door."

Idia suppressed a long sigh. He could already feel a headache coming in. Must you be so persistent? Do you really want the whole Ignihyde dorm to find out about this?

After another moment, he finally climbed down from his bed and opened the door. You stepped in and he was greeted with a tight hug.

"Thank goodness! I was so worried!!" You exclaimed.

"(Y/N)...."

He almost pushed you away from him. The frown on his face clearly stated the he didn't want to hear any pep-talk. "You should go prefect. I don't want to worry your friends. Didn't you say Vil asked for your help or something?"

He tried to dodge the inevitable conversation. But, you weren't fooled by it.

"Idia, why are you being like this? Did I do something wrong?"

"I doubt that."

"Then, did I say something offensive?"

"Do you ever do that?"

"Idia, please just tell me what's wrong!"

"You are asking me what is wrong?! Ask what is not wrong instead. I almost killed everyone. I almost killed YOU and you are asking me what's wrong?! Everything is wrong with me, (Y/N)! I am horrible from my core. Why can't you see it?! Stop trying already! I don't need your pity!!"

"Pity?! Are you serious right now? I'm in no position to pity anyone, Idia! We all make mistakes. We all do shit we are not proud of. That makes all of us horrible, no?"

"Stop... (Y/N)..."

"No, I will say this only once, so Idia Shroud; hear me out carefully. You either man up and solve your problems—get a happy life with your loved ones, or run away from your problems, destroy yourself and your loved ones in the process. YOU have to be your savior, YOU have to be your salvation. If you cannot save yourself then nobody else can. If you cannot love yourself first then you can't love anyone else. In this path you are not alone, Idia, so make your choice. Your choice can either save or break everything you built with your blood, sweat and tears."

"Why... do you keep dragging me towards the impossible...? I don't want to lose you (Y/N)... I don't want to lose you like I lost Ortho..."

There it was. His feelings were out in the open. Idia kept stepping closer to you until your noses were almost touching. "So, please (Y/N)... go away. You can live happily without me..."

He couldn't stop his eyes from becoming a pathetic pool of tears. You make him feel things he didn't know he could feel. But, you are like a shooting star. He is only going to hold you down. Don't worry, he can watch you from afar like he always does.

"No... I won't. Not now... not ever..."

You cupped his face and leaned closer until your forehead touched his. "Stop telling me to go... my happiness is here, with you..."

"Are you sure...?"

He pulled you closer. For once, he wasn't afraid of affection.

"More than you can imagine..."