#my best friend made me a playlist. i did for them too. like last year.

[chqnified]

My form of flirting is,,, I made you a playlist,,,, here,,, take it,,,,,

[ddoxhan]

all I wanna do

like a rain shower in midsummer, I need you cuz all I wanna do is be with you

word count : 5.3k words

genre : fluff revolving around two goofballs; scriptwriter! ningning x office worker! reader; experiencing a disastrous date won't stop you from planning the best date for the love of your life

t/w : none :)

a/n : a light-hearted, playful date with ms ning yizhuo! imagine her laughters throughout the entire thing and just seeing how happy she is being with you 🤍 I love this baby so much :') anyways enjoy !!

outfit? check. water bottles? check. portable fan? check. power bank? check. umbrella? check. snacks for your pretty girlfriend? check. after that disastrous date with yizhuo last time, you were traumatized hence the over-the-board preparation for today's date with her. you had planned a lot of events for the day, hoping that she would be surprised with how you made sure things were to go according to plan. her reactions are just the cutest and no one can tell you otherwise.

regardless of whether it was going to rain, or if you lose her in a crowd as her phone dies, or if she gets incredibly hungry that she's in the mood to murder you. yes, that was how the entire date went the last time when you two headed for a mini concert in the outskirts. just thinking about it again sent chills down your spine. never again, you thought.

as you take a step out of your apartment, that annoying ringtone informed you of who the caller was.

"yeah, babe?"

'on the way? or you just woke up and getting ready to throw on just anything?'

"missy, I'm slaying my fit of the year. and yes, I'm on my way. maybe in another thirty minutes?"

'okay, missy. sounds good to me, see you then babe!'

"love you."

'love you too!'

her voice got softer, as usual walking away from her phone to do her own things. she usually lets you end the call, either you'd end it while chuckling at her antics or listening a little longer to hear her humming a song that's on her 36th spotify playlist.

the sun was shining, the clouds were fluffy, and the bus just passed by the stop before heading for yours. was it more than enough time for you to make it? sure, but, that was if you ran for it. you were definitely not waiting for the next one that was going to be in the next 15 minutes.

the run wasn't too bad, giving you a chance to try out your new pair of sneakers. definitely not made for running, but they were sure looking amazing with your outfit. yizhuo had gotten them for you when you had finished that torturing physics paper one semester ago but you couldn't get yourself to wear them. she insisted that you wore it after she saw them in a new display box you got for it when she slept over after spending hours playing animal crossing with you.

'jagi, didn't I get those for you?'

'yep.'

'wear them when we go on a date next week.'

'but-'

'no buts.'

so that was how you were striding in these slides. they made you a little taller, which was the perfect height to pull yizhuo into a hug and rub your head on her hair. she hated those the most, but you love the scent of her vanilla shampoo, calming and soothing. as you stared out the bus window from your seat, your lips naturally curled into a smile as you reminisced those times when you and her took the bus home during your uni days.

when you had shared social law with her, you always took the bus with her after classes at the end of the day. you had known that she lived a little further from campus instead of the dorms and you happened to also take the same bus line as she did. acquaintances bloomed into friends, and you took your friendship with her to the next stage when you confessed that you saw her as more than a friend. you were the happiest girl alive when she said that she felt the same too.

when you had graduated with your psychology degree and her with her communication degree, that was when you found out that yizhuo had not lived three bus stops away from yours. and that was also when she had found out that you lived two bus stops before where she supposedly lived. in summary, you were two idiots thinking that you guys were so smart for trying to fool each other.

she did indeed live in the campus dorm, but just got down the stop where her friend lived at, in a way using her as an excuse to spend more time with you. you on the other hand, did similarly to spend more time with her by pretending that you got off at the next stop after hers. for four months straight, you had took a whole trip around the neighbourhood each time you had social law.

till this day, this was still something that you and her would bring up and laugh about at how stupid you two were. but you didn't complain, you were stupid in love with her.

a ring on yizhuo's doorbell was enough to make her frown from finishing her favourite shampoo to smiling as it indicated that her huggable human was by the door. when she swung the door open, she was surprised to find you with a bouquet of crocheted pink tulips and a puffy tote bag. first, you hated tote bags because you were afraid of forgetting them on your seat. second, what occasion was it for the flowers?

"hello, girlfriend."

"hello to you too. what's with the flowers?"

a toothy grin was all it took to convince that it wasn't a special occasion that she knew, but rather one that you wanted to celebrate because, you just wanted to.

"it's 520 days since we've started dating. so yeah, happy 520!"

"and here I thought that I had forgotten our anniversary or something."

"well, it's still something to celebrate about."

if yizhuo had her clumsy and quirky antics, you had your puppy-like and unpredictable antics. it wasn't once or twice that you had showed up to her front door with tulips or roses, be it real or fake, or crocheted. or that one time you had a spur in the moment and made her beef wellington for lunch. you didn't even like cooking that much.

'I saw this recipe and I thought you would like it a lot!' as she quotes from you.

but none of that can stop her from loving you more as each day went by. the good morning and good night texts were a must and meeting up at least once every day was the base, whether it be face-to-face or through facetime. as much as she could feel her fatigue from her day fade away when she saw that smile of yours, so did you when you heard that laughter of hers when you crack a joke.

"thank you, babe. I like it a lot."

she tiptoed to press a little peck on your cheek, which led to that big ass grin on your face and your tail would have wagged hard like a helicopter, if you had one. seeing your usual reaction, yizhuo went back to her room to proceed getting ready for the day. oh, did you mention that she looks amazing even when she had her hair up in a messy bun, and the most worn out, comfortable home clothes? yeah, now you know.

as you took your spot on the couch, it didn't take her longer than 20 minutes to be in the cutest outfit for your anticipated outing. the opening of her bedroom door prompted you to stand by the shoe rack and put your shoes on.

"ready?"

"mhm."

after you leaving her place, she naturally headed over to the bus stop while you stepped further from it, making her confused at the way you had a mischievous smile on your face. you walked over to her and dragged her along to the nearest car rental shop, rendering her further confusion.

leaving her at the entrance for a bit, you returned while twirling a shiny key with a far too recognizable logo printed on it,

"I knew we were going to the aquarium, but you didn't mention anything about driving there. when did you even have a driver's license?"

"well, surprise."

driving wasn't a practical option since you lived four bus stops away from your now alma mater. public transportation was a pain in the ass during before and after work peak hours but that was more worth than paying for the parking fee. that included having not told yizhuo about your driving capabilities.

your campus was practically in the middle of the city where most necessities were within public transportation reach. it didn't really matter if you had a car or not cause that was how convenient travelling for stuff was. if there was a need for a car, you would just ask minjeong for hers since she drives. even now, you could get to your job without a car, and you only head to office 3 days a week.

"and you rented a BMW?"

"yes?"

the look on her face darkened further as she couldn't comprehend your spending tendencies. you weren't a thrifty douchebag, so this was really a firsthand experience of you being willing to spend so much when there were cheaper options.

"please tell me you're joking. this could easily cost you half of your monthly salary for a day."

"okay okay, yes, I'm joking."

"thank god."

" but I did buy a kawasaki though."

yizhuo's jaw could not drop further as you said those seven words. she couldn't even form words, let alone sentences.

"wha- huh- you- eh?"

"come on, I got a second hand one so it's a lot cheaper. and it was a snatch with its low mileage."

the whole ride to the aquarium was just her bombarding you with questions on why you decided to get a motorcycle, when did you get your driver's license and a whole lot more. the entire ride there. though you weren't annoyed, you found it adorable that she wanted to know more. you being down bad was an understatement, you were just so in love with her that you don't see any chance of you getting back from being down bad.

you sure didn't need a second hand kawasaki to get to work considering the many reasons that would have stopped you from getting it. but there was one extremely big reason to get it that surpass every other. it was yizhuo. at the end of every day where you would drop by her place to spend time together, she would tell you about the things she encountered on the way home on the train, be it good or bad.

you were content with listening to how she would coo at the children and babies she saw, but grimaced at some things she would witness that you don't even want to reiterate. just then you thought, maybe you should get a vehicle to fetch yizhuo after work. as a scriptwriter, the expectation to get things done by her deadlines were brutal, from your nine-to-five job perspective. at times, she would finish past dinner hours and leave the broadcasting station with slumping shoulders while you waited for her at a nearby cafe to have dinner together after she clocks out. it always made a part of your heart ache a little when she drapes her body over you, with her basking in your scent.

she had always reassured you that she would feel her energy pick up when she spots you at your usual spot waiting. and even more so when she hugs you, as if you were her human energizer. but to imagine the days that you wouldn't be there, it was the right decision to get a vehicle for her to relax in after work on the way home. regardless of whether it was this nice BMW or the kawasaki you got, you get to accompany her back home while she talks about her day at the broadcasting station.

to head home together after a long day and lay in her arms on the couch while watching a movie was always your dream. usually her housemates would be around and it wasn't that comfortable to have the whole living room to yourselves. you would either leave after dropping her off or you would spend some time in her room for a while since she would reason that you have work the next day. one day, you would get a house together with her and make that dream a reality. one day.

"for me? this nice ass bike because you wanted me to get home safe?"

"yep."

she looked at you in disbelief, worried that the cost of this damn bike would put a hole in your wallet while you had a sheepish smile knowing exactly what she had in mind.

"I know it sounds crazy but trust me, I've planned this for a long time."

"how long?"

"roughly 5 years."

as yizhuo mentally counted, she figured that that was when you were still freshmen back in university. although she was flattered by the fact that you fell for her since then, she couldn't help but feel bad. and you knew she would from the way her smile fell a little, just enough for you to be able to tell.

"don't feel bad babe. I did say it's for you, but it's also for me, for us. it's a lot better than having to squeeze into the train and having body odour rubbed all over my face."

the joke managed to lift her mood as she giggles at the way she could relate too. well, you could say that this kawasaki was a dream motorcycle that you've had your eye on for some time now too. her hand reached over to yours on the gear stick, her eyes looking into yours, feeling that she was the luckiest girlfriend on earth.

"you're welcome, and let's go see those penguins, shall we?"

"welcome to underwater haven, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls! I will be your guide today, so make sure to remember how I look like. you wouldn't wanna get lost and bump into the polar bear."

the crowd laughed at the humor of the male guide, before following to enter into the aquarium for the day.

in one hand, was your professional camera to capture the beauty of the animals (as well as your girlfriend), and yizhuo's hand intertwined with yours in the other. although she was more fond of furry animals in the petting zoos, she absolutely loved the way your eyes would sparkle when you tell her about your favourite aquatic animals that even she had managed to remember by now. you looked like an excited child jumping around and she just wants to give you all the kisses that you deserved for being so cute.

"oh! that's the angelfish. isn't it such a nice shade of pastel blue? and the way they just look so pretty."

"yes yes, very pretty."

and her gaze was just fixated on your smile that hasn't fell ever since you stepped foot in here. she couldn't give a damn about all these fishes that looked the same to her. all it did was make her crave for some good sushi, but she shall not talk about that while you're here. maybe in the next few days, she should bring it up. for now, she would enjoy this aquarium date.

"did you have fun?"

"mhm. did you? weren't you bored a little halfway?"

"I mean yeah but when I look over to you, wow best day ever."

you shot yizhuo a glare before relaxing when you knew that she had eyes only for you.

"I love you too."

that sheepish smile on her face made you chuckle at the way you found it cute, realization for the nth time that you would never be able to win against her. be it her random rendezvous at odd hours or cheeky remarks like this.

"so where would lunch be, ms. 'I have a BMW now so we can go anywhere we want'?"

she's just not gonna let you breathe huh?

"well, it is a thursday today. so you know what that means."

"the bazaar!"

the first time she found out about the bazaar, she had always gone there either alone since her friend had clashing schedules or would resort to the cafeteria food which she disliked a little. after knowing you through social law, she deciced to persuade you to accompany her there.

'you mean be your chaperone?'

'I wouldn't put it that way, think of it that you're there as my food mate.'

it was a weekly food bazaar that happened at the city square, filled with all kinds of food from all around the world. yizhuo was always down to try anything that was edible, while you were just there to be with her as you didn't fancy trying new things.

'come on! try this, the vendor said it's glutinous rice cooked in a bamboo tube.'

'it looks questionable.'

but to be honest, it did taste good. while she had a habit of ordering a variety to try, she wouldn't hesitate to share it with her friends, encouraging them to head to the bazaar to try out too. when you looked back and thought about it, she was also helping out the local businesses that had a hard time. she tried to deny, giving you the reason that they had better food that whatever the cafeteria served. however, you would notice each time you stood by her while she talked to the vendors. the way her eyes fold into crescents, truly grateful that they were doing great.

as you spent more time with her throughout your days, you harbored feelings for her and they just grew out of control when you would malfunction from being around her. you were there once as an acquaintance, now you were back there again, as her girlfriend. wow, thinking about it made you feel overwhelmed.

"are you sure we're able to finish this?"

"if we can't, we could bring it over for minjeong."

"I'm pretty sure she would be too full from lunch with jimin. you know how those two are."

"well, I guess this is all for us!"

just watching yizhuo enjoy the food in front of her made you feel as if you had ate. if your girlfriend was happily full, then so were you. at some point, the vendors didn't change often, and they soon became permanent at the bazaar, being able to find a crowd of customers for themselves. you didn't remember how it happened, but when yizhuo would always recommend it to the people around her, you knew who it was because of.

"what? is there anything on my face?"

your gentle gaze had her rub the sides of her mouth, then her cheeks. full of food while she mumbles, it was just a sight too adorable. you succeeded at holding back your urge to squeeze her cheeks, or you would end up with a flick on your forehead.

"nothing, you just look really pretty."

"thank you, but I can't tell if you're being sarcastic cause I am stuffing my face full of food right now."

"nothing beats a happy girlfriend who loves her food. and it's cute."

extending a hand over to clear that sauce stain on the corner of her mouth, you looked so lovesick, it almost made the people at the table on the right gag. what did single people do to be punished like this?

you would only cut it out with the lovey dovey eyes when yizhuo made sure that you were eating enough unlike when you were in your final year. that final year research paper had you lose 5kg throughout the journey and you wish to not experience that ever again. sleep was an option and so was food. if it wasn't for her threatening to have your meals properly or she would not see you again, you would have probably fainted at least twice that year.

so now, you have a wonderful girlfriend and a stomach full of good food. the day was going spectacularly smooth without any problems. but you spoke too soon when the sun had set and night had came.

after the bazaar lunch, you were to drive to a restaurant by the beach that yizhuo had really wanted to try but didn't insist on going as it was far. since you had rented a car, it was only right to bring her there. before night would fall, it would have been perfect to enjoy the sunset by the time you would have arrived considering the journey.

that was until the car started to smoke on the front all of a sudden. pulling over to the side of the road, you had to call for help from the nearest car repair shop to send a tow truck. you weren't going to risk driving there despite it being a short distance, not with her in the car.

as the tow truck arrived along with another car, you thanked the foreman for offering to drive you two to your destination when he couldn't get you a spare car. nevertheless, you managed to reach just in time to sit by the beach to admire the sunset with yizhuo. that was before it got windy and droplets of rain turned into a downpour.

"why is it always like this whenever we decide to go out for dates?"

she was feeling a little down from the mishaps from the car to the downpour. to be frank, you were too, since you had hoped that the date ended perfectly since she had looked forward to it a lot. although she didn't verbally express her excitement, you could tell from the way she had already put together an outfit for the day a week before and marked the date on her calendar with a big red circle and hearts around it.

"babe, things happen. plus it was my fault that I didn't check the car properly before today."

"it's not your fault, like you said things happen. just why on our dates..."

you were half soaked from the rain even with an umbrella. as you sought shelter at nearby shop, yizhuo wasn't soaked as much because you had wrapped yourself over her to make sure she didn't. that also made her a little more upset as she was scared you would get sick because of her. on the brighter side, you were at a vintage shop where they had quite a collection of film cameras. you had to take the opportunity to get one from here before you left. but first, back to making your girlfriend feel better.

"hey hey, babe. look at me."

you placed your hands on her cheeks and made her face you, squishing them a little. around her colleagues, she was competent and very professional when dealing with the producers and directors at her workplace. but when she comes home and relaxes around you, she would turn into a small little kitten that needed her favourite human pillow. just like how you had her pouting and leaning into your hands.

"things don't have to always go as planned. it's best if it did, but now that it didn't. we're here at this vintage shop and it looks like there's a lot of stuff to explore around here."

"sure we missed the sunset for a little, but we stumbled upon this place."

and with that, your girlfriend was back to her normal self.

"okay, but promise me you're not going to get too many things. nothing else is going to fit that glass case."

"yes, ma'am."

giving her a tiny salute and a cheeky smile, it was another mission success of making the best out of a (sorta) ruined date.

"I did mention not to get too many things, but you did get something that was very expensive."

"but it does take really good film pictures. plus, a good camera to fit the most beautiful model in the world."

yizhuo scoffed at the compliment but couldn't help but blush a little. thankfully, the downpour had come to a stop, only a small drizzle remained.

as you headed towards the restaurant that you had made reservation for, you couldn't help but feel super lucky at that moment as the sky was still lit and the ambience of the waves hitting the shore, as well as the drizzle adding its touch. along with the beautiful sight of her while her hair is blown by the wind, that gorgeous smile making you fall for her all over again.

arriving there, you were brought to your reserved table before ordering whatever she wanted on the menu. the wait wasn't too long, which was good as it was quite eventful before this meal. as you indulged in the local delicacies, you couldn't help asking yizhuo if she was in for some alcohol. and knowing her, she wouldn't pass on the offer.

you only drank a little as you would still need to drive back, as the foreman had mentioned that it wouldn't take till the next day to fix the car. just as you wrapped up your fulfilling meal, your phone rang, indicating the caller to be the foreman.

"yes, mr. lee. is the car done?"

"I'm very sorry miss, but I've called to inform you that we've come across another problem from the engine as we looked into it earlier. we would need another day for it as we are closing soon."

"ohh... umm... alright then. we'll look around for somewhere to stay for the time being. thank you very much."

hearing how you would need to look for somewhere to stay and seeing that apologetic smile plastered on your lips, yizhuo just knew that the plans for the day had changed for third time.

"we need to look for a motel?"

"hey! you don't need to put it that way."

the ends of your ears started burning a little as you hid your face in your hands, trying to lower the rising temperature of your cheeks. her word choice had caught you very off guard while she remained calm.

"it is what it is. plus, we could get separate rooms so why so shy?"

she was definitely having a great time teasing you.

you managed to find a decent place after asking the locals. but being there on the weekends only meant that there was no such things as vacancy. however, you still decided to shoot your shot, praying for two rooms.

"we've got only one room left, with a single bed."

and you definitely didn't expect that shot to miss entirely. it was better than no rooms at all, and it meant using the same room as yizhuo. you had to repeat that to yourself several times to fully register what you had heard. number 1, you had not slept over at her place before as you didn't want her housemates to feel uncomfortable with your unfamiliar presence. number 2, it would only be you and her in a room. nothing would probably happen, given that you would be sleeping on the couch.

"where are you going?"

"to sleep...?"

drying your hair with the provided towel, you glanced over to your girlfriend who already dried her hair and changed into a set of pajamas that you had got from a nearby shop. you were in a similar one with a different color, reminding you too much of what married couples would usually where in dramas. 'enough!', you thought.

as much as you wanted to wake the next morning in your arms, you held yourself back as it might make her uneasy. what if she's not used to sharing the bed with someone? what if she thinks it would be hot? what if you snore? what if―

before you could complete all the possible scenarios from overthinking, yizhuo stretched out her arms, telling you to hug her. and so you did. as you fell for her temptation, she pulled you in closer to make you fall onto the bed. as she leaned over to place her lips on yours, your brain short-circuited with too many things happening at once. pulling away, all she saw was a shocked puppy speechless and thoughtless.

"you good?"

"huh?"

"were you going to sleep on the couch?"

"yeah..."

it was as if you lost your ability to speak because all you could do was nod or give short answers to her questions. well, you were being considerate for your girlfriend in case she didn't want to share the bed with you and you were more than willing to let her have the bed for herself. after all, the bed wasn't the biggest and it was just fitting for two people, no more, no less. but she didn't mind at all.

"why when we could just sleep together?"

you hit her a few times for her choice of words and she just wondered what she said so wrong. 'sleep together', technically you were going to sleep together but not sleep together. there was a difference, but you were just being overly sensitive from the way that your body was in close proximity with yizhuo.

it wasn't like you didn't cuddle with her before in the living room while watching dramas and movies. it wasn't like you didn't hug her every single time you would leave by the end of the day. it wasn't like she wasn't already clingy and always finding an excuse to stick right next to you, be it be holding hands or just pulling you into a bear hug. but why was this time so different just because it was on a bed?

"you could take this as practice before we get married in the future."

right, that was why it made you so fidgety and anxious like a teenage girl who was in love with her first love. true enough, she was your first love, if you were to minus out the short fling back in high school that wasn't even a relationship nor situationship.

your relationship had not even turned 2 years old and yizhuo already had confidence in that you would marry her when the time comes. and she was darn right that you would. that day just sealed the deal where you definitely couldn't see yourself spending the rest of your life with someone else other than her.

the way she would enjoy your rants about sea animals that she couldn't care less, the way she reminds you about spending too much, the way she held your hand throughout the whole date.

although she wasn't interested in the many species of fishes that you knew, she didn't complain about it and just enjoyed how you were ecstatic about them. she would nag you a little about getting too many vintage cameras when you wouldn't even use some of them, but she knew that every single one you've bought had at least taken one picture of her. she knew that physical affection wasn't your way of expression where gift giving and words of affirmation was, she made sure that you felt hers.

just like this very moment, you could feel it through the way her gaze bores into your eyes, letting you know that she loved you as much as you did for her, if not more.

"okay, if you say so, wifey."

"oh? already agreeing to the proposal?"

"no way, I will be the one proposing to you in the best way possible when that day comes."

"but does that mean you want to marry me?"

yizhuo was glad to see how you snapped out of your trance with the playful banter between you and her. not only that, your string of thoughts had brought you to a conclusion that sounded like the best one to your life story.

"yes, ms. ning yizhuo. I would love to marry you."

"cause all I wanna do is be with you."

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

My Top 10 Fics Of 2023

So, because it is the 'wrapped' time of year where everyone looks back on their year through playlists and other types of stats - I thought that I would look back on my year through something completely nonobjective and based on exactly 0 data - my favourite fics I have written this year that are based completely on my personal enjoyment of them.

Last year, I did something similar to this where I counted down the top ten fics based completely on data - how many notes each fic had gotten on tumblr. But most of the posts were shorter fics that I hadn't spent a lot of time working on that I wasn't very proud of. (Like the fact that my current most popular fanfic on my sideblog for fanfiction is the shortest in word count.) So I have decided to go over the fics that are the most popular in my heart - countdown style.

This year I have written 39 different fics and I have written over 395,000 words, and these are my favourite fics that I have written.

Honorable Mentions:

Black Suit - Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader (2,900 words). One of the most well-rounded fics I have written in such a short word count. And just - look at her.

My Bleeding Heart - Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader (3,400 words). I have never used Death Eaters as the basis for angst in a fic and I had so much fun with it. Plus the kidfic fluff at the end was really fun too.

IFHY (I Fucking Hate You) - Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader (8,100 words). So @holy-minseok made a post about how there isn't enough fics with reader characters that aren't nice and sweet and I haven't stopped thinking about it since. Because I have so many fics with rude, toxic readers and this is absolutely one of them. This reader is a Grade A Bitch and that's a huge reason why I had so much fun writing it.

Better Than Sleeping - Jason Todd x Fem!Reader (5,300 words). This is some of the best quality smut I have written this year, hands down.

The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (8,200 words). I love writing fics based on specific episodes of a show, and this definitely helped to fulfil my whump quota for the year.

Sweet Revenge - Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader (16,200 words). This is a fic that definitely converted me from a hardcore Abby girl into an Ellie girl. I am very proud of it. (And eventually I became an EllAbs girl, as god intended.)

Free Use Day - Poly!OG!Titans x Fem!Reader (14,300 words). This is probably my most epic and honorable of the honorable mentions. This is the first time in years that I have written such a long pwp, and it's written about some of my ult favs. So I fucking love it. (It came so, so close to making the top ten.)

(Now, onto the top ten.)

The Top Ten:

10. Dreaming Of You - Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Reader (31,300 words)

You and Gar have been best friends for a long time. Nothing could disrupt the harmony of such a perfect friendship. Nothing except maybe… your usually predictable powers going haywire and somehow showing you all of his heated daydreams about you. But he couldn’t possibly have romantic feelings for you. He couldn’t possibly want anything more than your close platonic friendship and the occasional steamy fantasy. Right? Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader. Best Friends to Lovers. Smut and (Slight) Angst. Set during Season 2.

At first I wasn't even sure if I should put this one on the list, because it's technically a re-post, but I was like fuck it, I make the rules here. And the reason it's at 10 is because technically I wrote most of this in 2021 originally (though it feels like longer ago than that omg), but this year I heavily updated the fic, including writing some new scenes for it that flesh it out very nicely. To me, this is everything a good re-post should be. It cleans up what was already there and amazing about the fic and it enhances it so much.

I loved the concept of this fic from its core, and now I get to be so, so proud of the way I have enhanced it years later. To me, this will always be my core Gar fic (as much as I will always write more for him) - and it is something I am truly, genuinely proud of. If you love Gar and you love smutty fantasies involving him, I highly recommend checking this fic out.

9. No Brainer - Derek Cho x Fem!Reader x Melanie Cross (Mayhem (2017)) (7,100 words)

When the ID-7 Virus, aka the Red Eye Virus hits Towers and Smythe Consulting, it throws the entire office building into chaos. With a mandatory quarantine from the CDC in action, that chaos builds in on itself, and somehow, you, Derek, and Melanie get everything that you want. aka You have something Derek and Melanie need. Derek and Melanie have something you want. You all agree to make an exchange, and everyone ends up more than happy. Derek Cho (Steven Yeun) x Fem!Reader x Melanie Cross (Samara Weaving). Co-Works to Lovers. Smut. Based on the film Mayhem from 2017.

This is one of my personal favourite fics of mine that I believe very few people following me have ever read. I absolutely love writing fics based on random one-off horror movies - I have way more in my drafts, and one of my goals for 2024 is to complete and post more of them. But one night I was laying in bed and I randomly watched this film because I knew Steven Yeun was in it. I had seen a lot of clips of him covered in blood and yelling, and I found him really hot in those clips, so I knew that I would enjoy the film. And I absolutely fucking did. Not just based on his hotness, but just - the entire film was so, so enjoyable.

Also, the ID-7 Virus, a fictional sickness that lowers your inhibitions (something that is shown in the film to work like sex pollen) is the perfect basis for a fic. So I literally started writing this on my phone before I had even finished watching the film. And I posted it a few days later. I think it's just pure fun. One of my favourite things to write about is a healthy combination of horror and sex, and this is definitely toeing the line perfectly in my opinion. If you haven't seen the film, I highly recommend it - watch it, and then come back and read this fic.

8. My Heart Is The Worst Kind Of Weapon - Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader (9,600 words)

Ellie confronts your abuser, and after years of torment, you finally feel free. Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader. Strangers to Lovers. Hurt and Comfort.

This is a fic that is very close to my heart. Not only is named after a tragically underrated Fall Out Boy B-Side, one of my favourite songs ever, but it is a fic about conquering the abuse of a family member - and when I wrote this, it was coming from a place of the utmost sincerity.

I am someone who has experienced abuse from a family member, and it felt so entirely empowering to write this - to write about someone coming to your rescue so honestly. Someone rescuing you out of pure want, not because it's an obligation or a burden. But because they are compelled by their own morals and they feel that your abuse is a cruel injustice against the world. This and the companion fic I wrote for Abby with a similar storyline are two of the most important fics that I have written this year.

7. Ghosting - Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader (3,700 words)

Mike has been in love with you for as long as he can remember. For about as long as the two of you have been best friends. He always thought he would have more time to work up to confessing those big, dangerous feelings for you - until something more dangerous swooped in and stole any time he had left with you. Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader. Star-Crossed Lovers. Pure Angst. Set during the events of the movie (and features spoilers for the plot).

I feel like this list would be incomplete if I didn't pick at least one of the FNAF fics that I wrote (and two of them ended up on here). With how much it was delayed, it was actually wild to see the FNAF Movie actually come to life before our very eyes, and it was amazing to actually write some fics about it. This is the first time (in a very long time) that I have written pure angst with no sense of fluff at the ending, and it was actually so much fun - it's fun to give into the darker side of a fic, and to write about the most torturous human emotions with absolutely no relief.

Also, I think dying in someone's arms (especially holding your lover or your would-be lover) is such a compelling trope and I loved writing about it. This was so much fun for me to write, and it was something so interesting to explore aside from the usual smut that I write.

6. From Your Lips - Jennifer Jareau x GN!Reader (3,000 words)

After JJ is attacked by dogs on the Hankle farm, everyone is busy worrying about Reid’s missing status, but you take the time to check on JJ and try your best to calm her flustered mind. Jennifer Jareau x Gender Neutral Reader. Friends with Benefits. Smut and Angst. Set during Season 2, Episode 15.

This year, I had another large foray into the Criminal Minds fandom, and I wrote a JJ fic for the first time. And just in general, I am so proud of this fic. I think even for a short fic, it has such a great essence - again, I love setting fics during specific episodes, and I found it so fun to play around with the religious imagery and the religious themes already in this episode, as well as the imagery of rabid dogs.

To me, this is what truly makes fanfiction great - taking details of the canon, chewing them up like bubblegum and then adding something else in to make them your own. I had so much fun writing this fic, 10/10.

5. Love From The Other Side (aka The Golf Club Fic) - Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader (5,600 words)

Abby kills the man that has been haunting your nightmares for years. You find it only fitting to give her a proper reward. Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut. Set during The Last of Us Part II. (aka - the fic where Abby fucks the reader's pussy with the golf club that she used to kill Joel.)

So, as you will notice with this fic and the next one, 2023 was the year I truly said fuck it. There used to be a time when I was afraid to admit my weirder kinks and fantasies (like, I used to be afraid to even say that I read A/B/O), but then I realized that this is the freak-nasty website. And way too many people are shy. So I must be the one to provide the freak-nasty fics.

This is a fic I had in mind since the very first time I watched TLOU2 gameplay. And originally, it was going to be a simple, purely pornopraphic fic about Abby fucking the reader with the golf club - but as I was writing it, it turned into something that I find oddly beautiful. And (again, just like with the next fic) I find that writing about kinks in long-term relationships, especially the kind of relationships that have come to be co-dependent - it's like writing this toxic, cathartic poetry.

It's writing about two people who need each other but can be so horrible for each other - and it is one of my favourite things to write about because it's so damn interesting. This was a slay, and generally awesome because it was getting out an idea that's been in my head for years.

4. Damn The Man, Save The Empire - Vanessa Shelly x GN!Reader (6,100 words)

Vanessa has always taken care of you. Since the two of you were kids, she has put her neck on the line for you, and you rarely knew how to return that epic kindness. One night, while both of you are raw and on-edge, the dark cloud of your strange past looming over both of you nearly swallows both of you whole - and once again, Vanessa is right there, taking care of you. (Dark)Dom!Vanessa Shelly x Sub!Gender Neutral Reader. Toxic Co-Dependent Relationship. Smut and Angst. Takes place before the main timeline of the film (features spoilers for the movie).

Again, like I said with the previous fic - this was one of my favourite fics to write because it is so delightfully unhinged. I really enjoy exploring toxic relationships through fiction because - for one, writing healthy, functioning relationships is not always interesting. And there is something so beautifully dark and poetic about writing two people who have grown into each other like twisted tree branches and need each other, but are so bad for each other.

And this year I have been exploring gender neutral smut a lot more. I used to always write fem reader smut as my default, but I have been having a lot of fun with the creativity of writing smut without describing the reader's body in detail. I love coming up with metaphors and describing around the body parts. I find it to be a fun creative challenge. Anyway - this was a lot of fun to write, and I highly recommend it if you enjoy reading darker fics.

3. Lessons For A Genius (Lesson One) - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (17,200 words)

What could a certified genius possibly have to learn from someone like you? Turns out - a hell of a lot.  And the real ‘teaching’ started when your graphic explanations of slang toward Spencer for the sheer shock value of it turned into something a lot more… hands on.  Sub!Spencer Reid x (BAU)Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Friends with Benefits. Smut. Set during early Season 2.

I feel like it would be a miss to make this list without mentioning a fic that I obsessed over for two weeks straight - a fic that drove me insane in the best way. Of course, there is also the sequel, but I personally prefer the first lesson. This fic has been brewing in my mind for a very long time, because it is painfully obvious to me that Spencer (in the early seasons) is an awkward virgin, and I have always wanted to ruin him.

This fic is a lot of my fantasies brought to life, and I feel like it's a really masterful painting of those fantasies - for once, without overly focusing on the murder mystery aspect of Criminal Minds fanfiction (which I have a tendency to get distracted by). I am really, really proud of this fic, and I know you guys enjoyed it. It is definitely a highlight of my writing this year.

2. Emergency Contact - Jason Todd x GN!Reader (10,500 words)

After Jason miraculously comes home from his brush with Deathstroke, you’re both feeling it in very different ways. You have an unexpected physical wound from the battle, and he has many (very expected) emotional wounds. You help each other heal. Even if it’s very stubborn on both your parts. Jason Todd x GN!Powered!Reader. Enemies/FWB to Lovers. Angst and Hurt/Comfort. (Slight Smut). Set during Season 2, Episode 5.

This is a fic I have talked about a lot recently, because I have been working on the sequel. (I was hoping to get the sequel finished and posted before the end of December, but it's gonna be a longer fic, so it's looking like it's gonna be one of the first fics of January instead.) Anyway - to me, this is by far one of my best fics and one of my most important fics of 2023. This was battling for the top spot.

But even if it's second place, I am so incredibly proud of this fic. I think it's beautifully written, I am incredibly proud of the literary references I worked in with The Great Gatsby - especially because I feel like Jason would be the type to read Gatsby and compare himself to someone tragic and doomed like Gatsby (he would soo compare himself to Gatsby, especially because he was also a poor kid who was randomly sponsored by a rich man who saw potential in him). Overall, I just had a very distinct vision when writing the fic, and that vision came to life. And I really, really hope that my vision comes to life in the sequel too.

1. King For A Day - Poly!Golden Trio x Fem!Reader (22,400 words) 

You have always had a special relationship with Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and the one and only Harry Potter. When you set out to help them find and destroy Lord Voldemort’s Horcruxes, it seems that your intimate knowledge of them is the one thing keeping them together - until the unique dynamic shifts, thanks to one of those pesky pieces of dark magic. Angry voices carry, and it turns out - moans of pleasure do too. Poly!Golden Trio x Fem!Reader (Fem!Reader x Harry Potter x Ron Weasley x Hermione Granger). FWB to Poly Lovers. Smut (with a slight bit of Angst). Set during Deathly Hallows.

And finally, we get to my favourite fic of the year!!

So, I'm gonna be honest, a huge reason that this fic gets the top slot is because of my nostalgia for Harry Potter. This year was the first time in a long time that I have written Harry Potter fanfiction, and it felt like a reawakening of my soul. I was genuinely happy, and I was spending time enjoying concepts and characters that I have not thought about for a long time.

This fic in particular, I feel like I have been working on it for years in my mind. This fic is a culmination of all my thoughts about these characters, all my time in the Harry Potter fandom, and generally, I am so, so proud of it. I am proud that my love for Harry Potter has come to fruition in this form - a poly smut fic, something that is just so me.

Overall - I had such a great year chasing fic ideas that make me happy, despite the popularity of the characters or the fandoms, and I encourage you guys to spend 2024 doing the same. Cheers!

[flowerandblood]

The Prince and The Fox (9) (End)

[ modern! • Aemond x friend! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, virgnity loss, smut, bleeding, fluff ]

[ description: After the events of her childhood, despite her best efforts, her neighbor and the younger brother of her friend Helaena, Aemond, does not want to know her. This state lasts until a house party organized by his older brother, Aegon, during which an incident occurs that will change their relationship forever. Slow burn, angst, toxic ex-Alys, rough Aemond. This is several anon requests combined into one fic. ]

WARNING: The main plot between the characters takes place in high school. Yes, in high school. The belief that teenagers wait with an intimacy when they are in love in high school is ridiculous to me. Aemond and the character here are the same age. Don't ask me how old they are, in my country you are of the age of consent in your first year of high school and an adult in the last year of high school, so if it is more convenient for you, think about it that way and decide for yourself. In this story, I am not following the trail that they are magically friends right away, but how they become friends and what that even means. I'm writing this fic to give the perspective of young, lost people, not adult women who want to see exactly themselves in everything they read. If that's all you expect, this isn't the fic for you.

I don't want whining about this in my comments or asks. I will delete these and block you. You have been warned.

Aemond + Evans Series Moodboard

This is my first story that has its own playlist, but yes! Get in the mood!

Story Music Playlist.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

From that night onwards, she felt that they were officially a couple; they held hands when he walked her home from the bus stop and hugged at school. They didn't have to talk about anything officially − it was clear they were together.

Aegon laughed at them saying that he wondered how much longer they were going to pretend.

Since then, she spent a lot of time at his place. At first she lied to her parents about going to Helaena's, but then it became too suspicious as she spent days there and finally admitted that she and Aemond were together.

"That's great! He's such a good boy. Invite him to join us for dinner, he doesn't have to be ashamed of anything!" Said her father, patting her on the shoulder; after a moment he looked at her uncertainly, as if he had realised something.

"You know how children are made, don't you?" He asked, she sighed heavily, confessing that she knew and that she did not intend to become a mother at such a young age.

Aemond was very apprehensive about having a formal dinner with her parents even though he knew how much they liked him from the situation with Cregan.

Nevertheless, when she finally managed to convince him and he came with her to her house one day after school, they spent a very nice evening together, her parents asking him where he intended to go to university.

"I was thinking about game and programme design. I'm good at maths and computer science, but my dad says it's not a profession." He confessed reluctantly; her father looked at him surprised, swallowing loudly the bite of roast he had just had in his mouth.

"What do you mean? After all, it's the future! Programmers are being sought everywhere now. Of course it's a profession!" He said with certainty, and she smiled, seeing out of the corner of her eye the blush on her boyfriend's face, who lowered his gaze, embarrassed.

They only touched each other with their hands − he showed her how she could satisfy him with a simple squeeze of his fingers down there. She loved the time of their intimacy and closeness, tender, calm and unforced.

They didn't undress completely in front of each other, but pulled their shirts off and snuggled together, kissing, allowing themselves to feel what it was like to feel the bare skin of their beloved's body nestled against each other.

She felt safe with him.

It seemed to her that the fact that they weren't in a hurry to go anywhere even suited him, that he felt thanks to this that it wasn't just about sex but something more, that their physical closeness was the result of their passionate affection and not the other way around.

One day, when he invited her to his house when no one else was there but them, he locked himself in his room with her.

After a few days in which they had to study and had no time to see each other, he literally threw himself at her, pulling off her jumper, pressing his lips to her naked breasts, leaving her in just her panties, sliding his fingers into them in a confident motion, knowing full well that she needed this as much as he did.

"− wait −" She muttered, grabbing his hand, looking at him with a hot, thirsty gaze. He immediately put his fingers out, looking at her surprised and concerned.

"− something wrong? −" He asked in a trembling voice; she could hear that he needed and wanted it himself, that he had been waiting for it all day. She swallowed loudly feeling that her cheeks were all red.

She thought she was ready.

That she trusted him and wanted to see what it felt like.

"− if you want we can try − you know − for real −" She mumbled out quickly, lowering her gaze, playing with her fingers lying on her bare stomach, unable to look at him out of shame. She heard him draw in a loud breath, surprised, and flinched all over.

"− are you sure? − I mean − I don't know, wouldn't you rather we did it in some more special place or time? −" He asked in a trembling voice, and she felt hot in her heart at the thought that he wanted this to be a unique moment for her, that he was thinking of her first and then himself.

She glanced up at him, looking at him with confidence and warmth in her gaze.

"− it's okay − I feel like I'm ready − you know, wet and all − that we can try, I'm not afraid −" She whispered still not looking at him, feeling her heart pounding like crazy, the place between her thighs throbbing hard.

She felt him breathing anxiously beside her; he was looking at her and for a moment couldn't get anything out.

"− okay −" He mumbled at last, rising to sit down, reaching his hand into one of the drawers, taking something rustling from it. She pressed her lips together seeing that it was a condom and lowered her gaze quickly, embarrassed.

He laid it down beside her on the bedclothes, then took her cheek in his hand and turned her face so that she was looking at him; she saw tenderness, fear, desire and uncertainty in his eyes, the same feelings that were now melting in her heart.

"− if − if there's anything wrong − if you want to stop − just say so, okay? −" He muttered, as flushed as she was, and she nodded quickly.

She swallowed loudly when, with trembling hands, he reached into the material of her panties and slid them slowly down her thighs − she helped him by lifting her hips a little and shaking them off her feet, staying completely naked.

He grunted quietly, taking one of his small pillows in his hand.

"− put it under your bottom − I've read that it's easier in then −" He muttered, and she did so without a word, embarrassed and touched that he had to read about how women experience their first time, what is best for them, what will make her feel less pain then.

She spread her thighs obediently in front of him as he knelt between them, with trembling fingers undoing his button and zipper, looking down at her with his lips slightly parted, panting as she did with emotion.

"− I want you very, very much − you know? −" He asked quietly, and she nodded quickly, feeling nothing but love for him in her heart.

"− y-yes − I want you too −" She confessed with tenderness and warmth in her voice. He swallowed loudly and nodded his head as if he needed to hear it.

She saw him slide off his trousers and boxers, struggling with them a little, and after a moment they were both completely naked, vulnerable, frightened. She pressed her lips together averting her gaze as she heard him tear the foil and apply a condom, deciding that she should give him a little privacy.

She shuddered as he lay on top of her, his hands on either side of her head; they looked at each other for a moment, breathing loudly. He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers in soft, tender, slow kiss, the tips of their tongues teasing each other with the sticky click of their saliva, making her feel the throbbing between her thighs again.

She drew in a loud breath when she felt him guide the fat head of his manhood against her slit with one hand − he heard it and hushed her, placing a wet kiss on her cheek and nose.

"− relax − we'll do it slowly − we can stop at any time − hm? −" He whispered tenderly and she nodded quickly, swallowing loudly, stroking his cheek with her trembling hand.

"− spread your thighs wider − yes, just like that −" He murmured softly; she clenched her eyes shut when she felt his tip pushing painfully hard against her wet, tight walls, sliding slowly inside her. They both sighed loudly, surprised, looking at each other with big eyes.

"− oh fuck − breath deeply, okay? − easy, little one −" He exhaled in a trembling voice. She nodded quickly, feeling the discomfort of such an intense filling, from which her body involuntarily tried to protect itself.

She began to breathe deeply through her mouth, closing her eyes, concentrating on loosening her muscles. She felt that it was a tad better, and he slid deeper into her; he pushed against something inside her, although she wasn't sure what, and she twisted her body, furrowing her brow in discomfort.

"− I need to make a little more violent push now − it might hurt a bit, don't get scared − okay? −" He asked quickly and she just nodded, breathing unevenly, feeling her whole body tremble.

She felt him slide out of her, and then with a sure, hard thrust of his hips he tore something inside her, making her ache as if someone had stuck a needle in her stomach.

She squealed, clamping her hand quickly on his arm, wanting to stop him from moving any further, looking at him in horror. He looked at her in pain, breathing loudly, his thumb stroking her cheek.

"− I know − I know − you're so brave − the worst is behind us − shhh −" He whispered, and she swallowed loudly, feeling the pain slowly pass, but still surging through her insides as if he had caused her a wound.

"− hold on − okay? −" She whispered in a trembling voice and he nodded. He leaned against her, brushing her puffy lips and she put her arms around his neck, drawing him close, needing to take refuge in his embrace.

They just kissed for a while, stroking their naked bodies − she could feel him pulsing hard inside her, but he made no move, breathing loudly along with her.

"− it's better now −" She whispered into his mouth. He nodded and licked his lower lip, sliding out of her slowly only to slide back in, this time filling her to the very end.

They both looked at each other with their mouths wide open and sighed loudly, surprised that it had worked.

"− are you okay? −" He asked quickly and she nodded.

"− a tad uncomfortable − but it doesn't hurt anymore −" She mumbled out with difficulty, filled with this strange, foreign sensation of realising that she felt him so deeply inside her body, that she was completely vulnerable and dependent on him now.

"− I'm going to start moving − okay? −" He asked with excitement and she nodded quickly. He pressed his forehead against hers and slipped out of her body again almost to the very end, only to fill her again with a slow, deep thrust.

She closed her eyes and relaxed completely, feeling a pleasant tingling in her lower abdomen each time his tip rubbed the spot inside her that he usually squeezed with his fingers.

"− yes − right here −" She whispered and he groaned low, she felt him throbbing hard inside her again.

She felt his hips began to move faster inside her, his thighs slapping against her sticky buttocks with a wet click, with each of his surer motions he teased her harder and harder, her lips parted in an innocent moan.

He kissed her slipping his tongue into her mouth, stroking her cheeks and hair, purring down her throat, both of them moaning loudly as he accelerated enough to make his bed creak beneath them.

"− fuck − so good −" He exhaled as if in awe and surprise, and she clasped her hands on his buttocks, impaling herself on him, panting along with him, pleased to feel that her muscles had adjusted to his shape, that she no longer felt any discomfort.

"− Aemond −" She whispered, and he groaned low, gripping her hips with his hands, stretching her hot, wet insides with his length again, again and again, faster and more aggressively, his intense pushes giving her astonishing pleasure, his gaze as he looked down at her filled with nothing but desire.

"− fuck, Foxy − I −" He mumbled as if in embarrassment, she could feel him twitching faster and faster inside her, and she only nodded.

"− it's okay − c-cum when you want to −" She whispered in shame, and he mewled quietly, his mouth parted wide, his eyebrows arched almost as if in pain as he came, cumming into his condom, panting and moaning low.

"− oh God, baby − fuckfuckfuck −" He growled, tightening his lips, falling on top of her, moving inside her for a moment longer, convulsions of pleasure running through his body.

She hugged his naked, sweaty back, smiling and happy, feeling relieved that it wasn't horrible at all, that she felt pleasure most of the time, that despite the pain at first his words of comfort and understanding made her relax.

"− I'm sorry −" He whispered in her ear and she blinked in surprise, snapped out of her reverie and stroked his hair, kissing his temple.

"− why? − it was very pleasant −" She said tenderly, placing gentle kisses on his cheek, his face pressed into the pillow.

"− you didn't come −" He muttered, as if this was his greatest failure, as if it was a cause for immense shame and disappointment on his part.

"− I didn't want to − I just wanted to do it with you − to feel what it's like − next time we won't be so scared −" She murmured, embracing him more tightly, tracing her fingers down his spine, feeling a shiver run through him, his soft manhood still deep inside her.

"− aren't you disappointed? −" He asked uncertainly as if he wanted to make sure, and she shook her head.

"− no − I'm very happy − albeit a tad sore −" She admitted and laughed lightly; she heard him murmur beside her and he finally lifted his face, placing a loud kiss on her cheek.

"− you were so brave −"

They were both horrified and panicked when they saw the blood on his pillow and sheets, not knowing what they should do first; he dressed up quickly and went to the bathroom to get some wet wipes and a towel, while she quickly found a pad in her backpack and stuck it to her panties as soon as she got herself cleaned up, putting them on, not wanting to get anything else dirty.

"− are you sure we shouldn't − I don't know − go to the doctor? −" He asked, looking at her horrified, and she shook her head.

"No, I read that this can happen. It should stop soon, but we need to wash your bed." She muttered, and he nodded, swallowing quietly.

Together they pulled off the sheet and threw it with the pillow into the washing machine, setting it to a quick wash, and then hand-washed his mattress. Fortunately, the blood came off easily, so they simply put on new sheets, changed into pyjamas and lay in his bed, cuddling.

She felt him stroking her back as she snuggled into his chest, embracing her with his arms, both of them silent.

"− do you want me to take care of you now? −" He asked uncertainly, and she shook her head.

"− no, I don't think I'll be able to sit down tomorrow −" She said amused, lifting her head up and meeting his disappointed gaze full of remorse. She stroked his cheek and smiled at him.

"− it was perfect − just as I had dreamed − I was very scared, but thanks to you it wasn't so terrifying −" She said softly; he swallowed loudly and nodded. He looked at her uncertainly after a while, taking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"− you know that − that I love you very much − don't you? −" He asked in a trembling voice; she smiled tenderly and nodded, a warm, peaceful feeling filling her heart.

"I know. I love you too."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

[hearts-hunger]

evergreen — part one

Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Cabin Fever Masterlist | Join my taglist here!

Series Summary: Jake takes you on your first vacation to the cabin the gang stays at every year. When memories of past relationships loom heavy, will this vacation send cracks through the foundation of safety and trust you have in each other?

Chapter Summary: Jake picks the worst room possible to share with you.

Pairings: Jake x Reader, Josh x Baby, Sam x Danny | Genre: fluff, angst, emotional h/c | Word Count: 3.5k | Warnings: drinking, sexual innuendo, mentions of infidelity

A/N: Hi it's me again with another Cabin Fever fic :)) I've had this one bouncing around the ol' noodle for a while now, and I'm finally trying my hand at it. It's a direct sequel to Cabin Fever and No Strings Attached, set about a year after No Strings. I don't know how many chapters it's going to have, but I hope you like this first one! ♡

“God, am I glad we decided to drive together. No way the boys would have let us stop for drinks so many times.”

You looked over at your best friend and smiled, cradling the peppermint mocha you’d gotten at the last Starbucks you'd come to before you truly left civilization. She was holding a latte in one hand and steering Josh’s jeep with the other, humming along to the playlist you'd put on.

“You don’t think we could have convinced them?” you asked. “We do have some feminine charm at our disposal.”

She grinned. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. And since Danny’s driving, and he can't say no to either one of us, we probably could have gotten away with it.”

You propped your feet up on the dashboard, enjoying the scenery of the winding road through the woods as she drove. You were headed to the infamous cabin you’d heard so much about, the one they’d vacationed in each fall for the past two years. It would be your first time there — you and Jake had started dating a few months after they went last time, and you were looking forward to being a part of the friendship lore the trip held now that you were a part of the family.

Baby gestured to her bag in the back. “Grab my notebook out of there,” she said. “It’s got a list of things I want us to do this week. Look it over and add stuff that I missed.”

You did as she said, perusing her neat handwriting and seeing things like make breakfast together and have a movie marathon. At the top, with a little smiley face by it, was a neatly penned item reading break the bed.

You laughed. “Ah, I see where your priorities are.”

She glanced over at the list and gave you a smirk. “It’s tradition. Nobody bats an eye about it. I can guarantee you it’s high on Jake’s list too.”

You felt a dull blush creep up your neck at that. It was no secret that you and Jake were intimate, but there was something about this trip that made you a little nervous, perhaps foolishly so. The last time they’d all come, Jake had brought his ex, Izzy, with him. That had been before she cheated on him and he broke up with her, but they’d no doubt broken the bed that trip when everything had seemed fine between them.

“Are you sure it’s okay that I’m coming?” you asked.

She waved you off. “Of course. Don't even ask. You’re in the Kiszka-Wagner clan now, sparrow, and it wouldn't be a family vacation without you.”

You wondered briefly if she’d said the same to Izzy last year. Of course she would have been kind to Jake’s then-girlfriend, but you wished that you'd gotten to be the first girl Jake brought to the cabin.

She looked over at you and smiled. “I’m really glad you’re coming. I would be bored to death if it was just me and the boys.”

“I don't know,” you teased. “Judging by this list, you’d have kept busy.”

She laughed. “Well, maybe. But I want to spend time with you, just as much as I want to spend time with the guys doing whatever they can cook up.”

You smiled, deciding to forget your worry and just enjoy the trip. “Speaking of,” you said, “we should add that cooking show competition thing to the list.”

“Oh, yeah!” she agreed. “Write that down. We're definitely doing that.”

You penciled it in where you could find space, and the two of you spent the last few minutes of your trip coming up with ideas for things you could do over the week. Songwriting was the most important to the boys; Baby said they usually took a lot of time to work on new songs when they had the time and leisure to play around with them in a low-pressure environment. 

“Lunch has got to be the first thing we do, though,” she said. “I'm starving.”

“Me too,” you said dramatically. “Should I text the guys and ask them to throw a pizza in the oven or something?”

She turned onto a long dirt road. “Maybe we got lucky and they already did,” she said. “Because.... ta-da! We're here!” She pulled into dirt driveway that led up to a big, snug-looking cabin nestled into the trees. Josh and Sam were unpacking Danny’s truck, and you parked next to them.

“Well well well,” Josh teased, giving his girlfriend a quick kiss hello. “Look who finally showed up.”

“Had to get coffee, honey,” she insisted. Josh opened the back of his jeep and started pulling out your bags. “We can do that, though. You guys just unloaded all your stuff.”

“Don't worry about it,” he said sweetly. “Come on inside. Danny's got lunch going.”

“Oh, thank god,” she sighed. She followed Josh as he took her bags inside, and you stood by the jeep, a little shy about walking in by yourself, wondering where Jake was.

Before you could start feeling too lonely, you were swept up in a bear hug from behind. You squeaked in protest as your feet left the ground, giggling when you realized who it was.

“Just me, sparrow,” Jake teased, setting you back down and kissing your cheek. “Not a wild animal, I promise.”

You smiled, feeling much more at ease now that you were with him. “How was I supposed to know? All the way out here in the woods, anything could happen.”

“Nah, I gotcha. No bear attacks for my best girl, if I can help it.” He took your bags from the trunk. “You ready for the grand tour?”

You took his arm when he extended it to you in a very gentlemanly fashion. “Lead the way, Mr. Kiszka.”

He showed you inside the cabin, pointing out the kitchen, the living room, and the back porch.

“Basement’s down there,” he said, walking you past another door on your way to the bedrooms. “We’ll get that set up after lunch so we can work on some music later.”

The cabin was cosy and rustic, the perfect place for a getaway with your best friends and your boyfriend. You hugged his arm as he led you down the hall, and he showed you the bunk room and three other bedrooms, each with a single, big bed.

He ushered you into the last bedroom and started unpacking your bags, putting your clothes neatly in the dresser drawers next to his things.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said, a little guilty. 

“It’s no trouble, sweetheart.” He finished and nudged the drawer closed with his hip. “How do you like our room?”

“It’s lovely,” you said sincerely. The king sized bed was spread with colorful quilts and pillows, and it reminded you a little of the cabin you’d shared when you got together. You scooched close to him. “It’s romantic.”

He smiled. “I’m glad you like it. Anywhere would be romantic with you, but I like it too. I staked my claim on this room last year, mostly because it’s the darkest, and you know how I get about sleeping with any lights on.”

Your heart sank a little, any amorous thoughts dissolving as quickly as they’d come. So this was the room he’d shared with Izzy the last time he was here? You knew it shouldn’t bother you, but you’d be lying if you said it didn't.

“Oh,” you said, not sure what you should say. 

He read your discomfort. “What’s wrong? You don't like it?”

You shook your head and tried for a smile. Obviously it didn’t bother him, and you didn’t want to cause trouble your first five minutes there. 

“No, it’s great,” you said. “I love it. You have very good taste.”

He kissed you. “I know,” he said pleasantly. He took your hand. “Come on. Let’s see what everybody else is doing.”

They were in the kitchen making lunch, chattering on about memories the cabin held for them, and you felt the weight of your discomfort a little more sharply. You didn’t know any of these inside jokes, nor the antics that had gone on here at the cabin; you tried to remind yourself that you’d make plenty of memories with them this week and tried not to let it bother you.

After lunch, you all made your way down to the basement, where you helped get things set up to the boys’ satisfaction. Christmas lights were strung overhead, amps and instruments set up, comfy couches and chairs rearranged.

“Hey, do you think you can teach me some new stuff this week?” you asked, venturing over to where Jake was taking his guitar out of its case. You weren’t the best at guitar, but Jake was always patient with you, and under his kind direction you’d improved more than you’d ever hoped you could.

He smiled. “Sure, honey. I’d like to.” He nodded towards Sam and Danny. “I think your boys are trying to rope us into a hike right now, though.”

“We just got here,” you said, amused.

“You know Sammy,” Jake said. “Always looking for some adventure to get into.”

You went to talk to “your boys” and found that Sam was, indeed, planning a trek into the woods. Danny seemed perfectly willing to go along with his boyfriend’s scheme, as he generally always was, but told you that there was no pressure to join them.

“Aw, you don't want to miss it, sparrow,” Sam protested. “You have to see the waterfall.”

You’d heard of this enigmatic, hidden waterfall, and your curiosity was piqued. 

“Fine, but somebody’s making me apple cider when we get back,” you said.

Sam gave Danny’s shoulder an affectionate slap. “Dan’s got that covered. Don't you, babe?”

Danny rolled his eyes and smiled. “Yes, I’ll make sure sparrow has a festive little drink as a reward for putting up with you.”

“Good man,” Sam said cheerfully.

Baby and the twins were cajoled into coming with you as well, and you set out into the chilly woods together to find the waterfall. You huddled into a flannel jacket you’d stolen from Jake forever ago, enjoying the crisp autumn weather and the company.

Jake, Josh, and Baby were leading your group; you hung with Sam and Danny a few paces back, thankful for Danny’s steadying hand when you came to overgrown parts on the trail.

“Did you guys pick a room yet?” Danny asked, holding your hand as you stepped over a fallen tree trunk. “Sam was too excited to get outside for us to decide on one, but I guess we’ll just go with the same one we had last year.”

You gave him a rueful smile. “Well, Jake picked ours. Care to guess which one?”

“Probably the last one on the right,” he said, frowning a little. “He picked that one last time, but... oh, I see what the trouble is there.”

Sam found a sturdy walking stick in the brush. “Jake can be kind of an idiot sometimes.”

“Yeah,” you said, a little more bitterly than you’d intended. “Not the smartest choice, I thought, but hey.”

“Just tell him,” Sam suggested. “He’s not that much of an idiot that he’d make you stay there once he knew why you didn't want to.”

“Oh, I don't know,” you said, hesitant. “I don’t want to be annoying. It’s just a bedroom, after all.”

“Yeah, with a big, comfy bed he’s shared with someone else.”

Danny elbowed him. “Not helping, love.”

Sam looked a little abashed, then, but his easy, incorrigible smile won out.

“Sorry, Sparrow. I'm kind of an idiot sometimes too. But I do think you should just tell him.”

“You can have mine and Sammy’s room,” Danny offered.

“And I can guarantee that Jake hasn’t slept with either of us in there,” Sam added. You laughed, and Danny shook his head. 

“Samuel Francis,” he said, chiding and affectionate. “You’re terrible at this sort of thing, you know?”

He shrugged, a lazy grin spreading over his face. “Got a laugh out of her, anyway.” He slung his arm over your shoulders. “Don’t fret, my pet. Once you get this bedroom thing sorted out, this week’s gonna be great. Not least because...” He pointed ahead of you with his walking stick. “We’re almost at your waterfall.”

The six of you came through the trees to a beautiful swimming hole and the accompanying waterfall, and you had to admit it was very nice. Jake was looking for skipping stones along the water's edge, and you joined him.

“Hiya, sweetheart,” he said. “Did you have a good time with Sam and Danny?”

“Yeah,” you said truthfully, thankful for their kind advice and help. You handed him a perfectly flat stone to add to his collection. “How’s this one?”

“This one,” he said, holding it up to inspect it, “is a winner. C’mere.”

You did, following him to the bank, and watched him skip your stone an impressive five times across the water. 

“Here, you try,” he said, handing you a few. 

“I’m not very good at it,” you said hesitantly.

He grinned. “Sweet!” At your confused look, he softened and pulled you snug against him, your back to his chest. “Gives me an excuse to get real close and teach you how it's done. I didn’t know how I was going to convince you to let me teach you if you were good at it.”

You smiled and snuggled close to him. “Don’t worry. I would have pretended not to know.”

Giving you some pointers, he stretched your arm out and showed you how to move your wrist just so. He did it with you a few times, sneaking kisses here and there, and you probably would have been more successful if you hadn't been so distracted by his warmth and affection.

“Okay, you try,” he said, letting you go.

“No, one more,” you said, wanting him close.

He chuckled. “How about some incentive? I'll give you a kiss for every skip.”

That was motivation enough, but you tossed the next stone with such vigor that it skated straight under the water without so much as one skip.

“Aw, super,” you said. You looked to Jake. “Can that count?”

He kissed your nose. “Half a point. Try again.”

You did, several times, and earned kisses for each paltry one- and two-skip attempt. Then, finally, your stoke skipped four times.

“Ha!” you said, exultant. “There. Four kisses, please.”

He smiled and obliged you, giving you an extra for a job well done. 

“See?” he said. “You’re pretty good after all.”

“And now you've Pavloved me into expecting kisses every time,” you teased. “That won’t ever get boring.”

He hummed and gently butted his head against yours. “You’re right. It won’t.”

Warm with his affectionate attention, you felt brave enough to bring up the bedroom situation, sure he would understand.

“Can I talk to you about something?” you asked.

“Always, sparrow,” he said gently. “What’s up?”

“Well... I was just wondering if we could switch rooms.”

His brow crinkled. “I mean, sure, if you want. Any reason in particular?”

You bit the inside of your cheek.

“Because, well...” You couldn't make yourself say it, wishing he’d just realize what it was instead of you having to spell it out. You didn't want to make him feel bad, and you definitely didn't want to be the one to drag the memory of his ex into your vacation. “I just want to. I think a little variety would be good for you.”

He gave you a bemused smile. “Okay, honey. Suits me.”

You hugged him, needing him close, and he hugged you back with a tight squeeze.

“I sure do love you, sparrow,” he said with a happy groan. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” you said contentedly. “For both things.”

When the sun started to sink and the air got colder, you made your way back to the cabin and started getting the bonfire going. Sam and Jake got the grill on, serving up a round of hamburgers and Sam’s very artfully crafted veggie sliders, and Josh made drinks while you and Baby helped Danny with the fire. Helped was a bit of a strong word, actually, given that Danny did most of the work, but he was grateful for your efforts all the same.

By the time the sun had set, the six of you were well on your way to being drunk. Josh was nothing if not a craftsman of strong drinks, and you all hung around the fire, tossing the football around and lounging in your camping chairs, talking and laughing and intermittently breaking out into song. The playlist you and Baby had curated was expertly tailored to the musical taste you shared with the boys, and none of them could resist a good tune.

“Listen to his tone on that,” Jake said to you, his accent slipping into tellingly British territory. He gestured with his cup, sloshing a bit over the rim. “I woke up and pressed my lips to a cup full of comfort, wrapped in the bliss of a golden shroud,” he sang, his voice raspy and warm. “God, that guitar sounds so cool.”

You smiled up at him, pleasantly buzzed and dreamy. “Not as cool as yours, honey.”

He grinned and gave you a kiss. “I like you. I think I’ll keep you.”

“Suits me, Jakey.” You draped your arm over his shoulder and let him sway you to the music. Your breaths came in silverly clouds, and you were thankful for his warmth in the chilly night. 

He nuzzled against your jaw, breathing you in, humming along to the tune. “You smell good, sparrow.”

You giggled when his hair brushed against your neck. “Thanks. It’s just soap.”

“It’s you,” he said. “Sunshine and fresh air.”

“Well, I have been out in the sun and the woods all day,” you reasoned.

He kissed a loved mark against your neck, and you lost yourself in his touch. 

“I have a theory,” he said after a moment.

You hummed. “What’s that?”

“You let me make love to you,” he said, “and I’ll make you the best love you ever had.”

You laughed. “That’s not a theory,” you protested. “That’s... a bargain, maybe, but not a theory.”

“Whatever,” he said. He pulled you close. “Bargain, theory, call it what you want. What say you, lassie?”

“Oh, there’s my pirate Jake,” you said, coy and affectionate. “I missed him.”

“He’s all yours, sparrow. Just say the word.”

You looked around the bonfire and saw Sam and Danny playing a card game, both of them laughing far more than any card game could make a person laugh sober. Josh and Baby were entangled in Josh’s camping chair, looking like they might very soon cross out that thing at the top of her list of things to do this week.

You had a mind to cross it off too, and as you’d been promised, Jake was more than amenable.

“Very well, Dread Pirate Kiszka,” you said, swaggering and posh. “As you wish.”

He grinned, wasting no time finishing off his drink and taking you inside. You were giggly and clumsy as you made your way through the dimly lit cabin, and you weren’t paying attention to where he was taking you until you passed the bathroom.

“Hold on,” you said, disentangling yourself from him. “Two seconds. Be right back.”

Going to find him after, you realized with a pang of chagrin that he was in the room he’d said you could move from. What’s more, he was absolutely dead to the world, spreadeagle on the bed with his shoes still on. You would have found it sweet and amusing — apparently even the promise of drunk pirate sex wasn’t enough to combat an unremembered number of tequila sodas — if you hadn't been so unhappy about where he’d fallen asleep.

You swallowed your feelings and gently took his shoes off, setting them neatly against the wall. Surely you could handle one night in this room; you wouldn't dream of bothering Jake by insisting he get up and move when he was already sleeping, not when the reason would be something as silly as your emotions. Getting undressed yourself, you got into bed next to him, trying very hard not to think of another girl who'd done the same thing in this very bed.

He roused just enough to move close to you, draping an arm over you.

“My love,” he mumbled, soft and sweet.

For some reason, you felt like crying. Couldn't he have called you his nickname for you, one you knew had never been used for another?

“I’m here, Jake,” you said softly. You pressed close to him, hiding your face against his shoulder, wishing you could forget every reason not to relax against him completely. Feeling the sting of tears that you knew you wouldn't be able to stop but would try to keep quiet, you weren't sure how successful you would be.

taglist: @viagvf @allieisacrybaby @itsafullmoon @spark-my-nature @anthemheatwave @xserenax-13 @musicspeaks @mountain-in-springtime

and some cabin fever besties who were excited for this one :) @shutupdevvie @gold-mines-melting @earthlysorrows @brooke-gvf

join my taglist here!

[cookiesandbiscuits]

Now Playing: Falling in Love

[Mammon - Paper Rings]

Pairing: Mammon x GN!Reader Genre: Comfort/Fluff Summary: His partner in crime. His confidant. His best friend. His human. Even if he likes shiny things, you are the one thing he'll never trade for the world and he'll prove it. Even if it means he'll marry you with paper rings. A/N: The second installment of Now Playing: Falling in Love is here!! Took a while but it's here nonetheless. I'm finally finished with my school work so I can do all the things I've been planning to do (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) This time, I chose the song "Paper Rings" by Taylor Swift! The song's just screaming Mammon's name, don't you agree? And I also get the feeling Mammon will like listening to Taylor's songs ^^ Warning: Reader's family is pressuring reader and Mammon to get married (get slapped with toxic family culture 😬); not proofread, maybe a bit OOC but I kinda liked how this turned out so ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ Now Playing: Falling in Love playlist MASTERLIST

"I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

Uh huh, that's right

Darling, you're the one I want

In paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams

Oh, you're the one I want"

"So, when are you two getting married?"

That question almost made Mammon spit out the water from his mouth.

"Oh, uh..."

"Aunty!!" You gave your aunt an incredulous look. However the older woman only ignored you, too focused on squeezing the answer from Mammon.

"What's wrong with asking? There's nothing wrong in asking about your future plans. You both are in your prime years. If you don't get married, you'll lose the chance to build your own family! Look at your cousin Daniel–"

"Aunty!" You cut her off before she makes things more awkward. "Look, I know you're worried for us, but marriage... it's just not in our priority list yet. We will get married in the future but not right now."

Your last statement made Mammon blush a little. You want to get married to him in the future?

Suddenly, you stand up from your chair and grabbed his arm. "C'mon, Mammon. I think we're done here for the day."

Before he can speak, you started dragging him from his chair and out of your family house.

.

.

.

"Hey, you alright?" Mammon asked.

It's been a while since the two of you returned to your shared hotel room, but you haven't said a single word since then.

"I'm sorry."

The demon raised an eyebrow on your sudden words of apology. "What're you apologizin' for?"

"For my aunt's behavior earlier. She put you on the spot. That must've been uncomfortable for you."

Sighing, you continued.

"I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to introduce you to my family during the reunion. I forgot why I stopped attending them in the first place."

Seeing you curl in on yourself made Mammon's heart ache.

"Hey... Why should you be the one apologizing on her behalf? Your aunt's the one who's in the wrong, not you."

It was your turn to be confused by his words. "...What?"

"I'm just sayin'. You shouldn't be the one who's sorry whenever your family made a mistake," Mammon says as he took your left hand comfortingly.

You blinked, left speechless by what he said.

Suddenly, he slipped a paper ring on your ring finger.

"Mammon??" You gaped when he did that.

"Don't tell me you forgot what you said earlier."

What you said...?

...

"We will get married in the future but not right now."

...

You blushed when you remembered what you said before storming out of your family house. You just promised you will marry Mammon in the future.

The demon chuckled as he kissed your finger where the paper ring is.

"You said you'll marry me when the time comes. So I hope you'll say yes when I manage to make this paper ring a real ring."

[noramoons]

seasons (waiting on you).

pairing: yeonjun x reader, (eventual) taehyun x reader

genre: college au, angst, slight fluff at the end

rating: T/13+

word count: 16.5k (i am so sorry)

warnings: explicit language, one (1) mention of alcohol, descriptions of a breakup, depression and anxiety depictions, mentions of harmful behaviors and thoughts, just so many post-breakup emotions being described for way too long BUT angst with a happy ending :)

summary: when your high school sweetheart choi yeonjun is off to grad school, you aren’t too worried about how your relationship will last—but your favorite coworker, kang taehyun, is.

OR:

a study in the seasons of loving and losing choi yeonjun—and how you put yourself back together afterwards.

playlist: telepath - conan grey, let you break my heart again - laufey, back 2 u (A.M. 01:27) - nct 127, i don’t know you anymore - eric nam, drive - ashton irwin, seasons (waiting on you) - future islands

I. PROLOGUE. 

Loving Yeonjun was like watching a meteor shower cross the sky. It was beautiful, and you considered yourself blessed to have been able to see it with your own eyes—but like everything else in life, it was inevitable that it had to end. 

And it ended too soon.

You still remember the day he transferred to your high school—everyone had practically stared as he walked down the hallway, beaming politely at the people at he passed on his way to his first class. He was like a celebrity almost instantly, and not just because he was a transfer student—Choi Yeonjun was beautiful, and jaw-droppingly so, at that. 

You ended up having two classes with him, to the mostly-pretend envy of your friends. They did all say that they would be far too nervous to even try to talk to someone like Choi Yeonjun, but you didn't feel that way. He was stunningly handsome, certainly—but he was still just a high schooler like you. You didn't feel intimidated by him in the same way that your friends clearly did. 

So one day you offered to help him with Mrs. Jung's pre-calculus homework—she was a notoriously difficult math teacher, but this was the second year you'd had her. You knew what to expect with her by that point. You didn't, however, know what to expect with your offer towards Yeonjun—it was just a passing remark you made at the end of class that you would be more than happy to give him some pointers on how to pass her quizzes if he ever needed them. Nothing too serious. 

But he'd looked up at you. Blinked. And then smiled, meeting your gaze with those soft bright eyes that practically made you melt right then and there in that classroom. "Thank you," he'd said, as genuine a thank you as you'd ever heard.  "I'd love that. Could I ask you for another favor, actually?" 

You weren't entirely sure what he was going to say next, but you nodded anyway, despite your gut telling you no. 

"Can you tell me some good places to eat here? My family just moved—you know that, obviously, but I'm getting kind of tired of takeout every single night. So if you have any recommendations that, um...aren't chain restaurants, I'd appreciate it a lot." He had laughed slightly nervously after that. 

Something fluttered within your chest. Oh. Choi Yeonjun, for all his good looks and charming attitude, was kind of awkward, too. 

It just made you melt even more. 

You did end up telling him the best local places to eat in your city, surprising yourself with your own bravery when you told him you wouldn't mind showing them to him yourself sometime—and he replied with that reassuring smile once again. "I'd love that, too," he'd said. 

You'd exchanged numbers, but you didn't really think anything would come of it—it was always possible that Yeonjun had just been polite, after all. He surprised you once again, though, with a text that weekend asking to meet him at the breakfast bar you had recommended. 

Just me? you'd asked. 

Yeonjun had responded within minutes. Just you. 

On Saturday, you stressed for nearly an hour over what to wear, trying on combination after combination of outfits. Everything you had was too old (there's a difference between vintage and gross). Too new (trying too hard, much?). Too short (what will he think of you?). Not short enough (did you time-travel in from the 1800s?). But eventually, you settled on something that was just slightly above casual wear and made your way to the restaurant to be ten minutes early.

Yeonjun was there before you, giving you a small wave when you pushed open the door to the restaurant. You'd thought someone as cool in appearance like him wouldn't be the kind of person to get somewhere super early, even earlier than you—bur Choi Yeonjun seemed to be the kind of person who just kept surprising you. His outward appearance that made nearly everyone you knew practically fall at his feet clearly wasn't all there was to him. 

You learned quite a bit more about Yeonjun that day, and you'd continue to learn more when he asked you to meet him for lunch again later that week. He wanted a dog, but the apartment he was living in with his family wouldn't allow it. He listened to just about every kind of music you'd ever heard. He was a good, genuine kind of listener, hanging on your every word whenever it was your turn to speak. It was a little detail, but you would've been lying if you said it hadn't made your heart beat faster every time you noticed it. 

It wasn't until the third outing that you finally gathered up the courage to ask him what had been on your mind since that very first invitation. "Yeonjun?" you asked, almost stuttering on his name as it passed your lips. Get it together. 

He looked up from his bowl of noodles. "Mmm-hmm?"

"Is this, um...is this a date?" 

He only hesitated for an instant. "Is that okay? I mean," he had started, trying to hold your gaze, "would you want it to be?"

You nodded, maybe too quickly. "I would."

The grin that instantly tugged the corners of his lips immediately melted any insecurities you'd had away. That was always what being around Yeonjun was like—he just set you at ease. 

You felt that same way a month later, when you'd agreed to meet him at an art museum downtown that you'd mentioned wanting to go to. He'd led you through the halls, warm hand in yours, gazing at the different paintings hung on the walls together—different expressions of love and hate and sorrow and every expression that man could expel into a paintbrush. 

Well—you had been staring at the medley of colors and brush strokes on the painting directly in front of you. Yeonjun, unbeknownst to you, hadn't taken his eyes off you since you'd walked into this particular room. "I have something to tell you," he'd said. "I...I don't like beating around the bush with these kinds of things."

You turned to face him at the sudden declaration. Your heart was pounding against your chest loud enough that you wondered if Yeonjun could hear it, but you swallowed down your nervousness and nodded. 

He took your silent reply as confirmation to keep going. "I like you," he said, never looking away from your eyes for an instant. "I want to keep going out with you, if that's something you want." 

You remember thinking that Yeonjun had to have been able to hear how loud your heart was from inside your chest—you'd never felt that kind of nervous excitement before in your life. Still, you managed to nod again, smiling softly at his words. "I'd really like that too, Yeonjun. Because I like you too." 

He'd beamed at you, looking at you like you were the only thing in the room, as if you were a piece of art to be marveled at despite the awe-inspiring works surrounding both of you—and you returned that grin as much as you could. 

And now you're here, years away from that day where you and Yeonjun had both confessed. It's like everything has fallen into place just like it was meant to. 

It's the longest relationship you've ever been in, not to mention the first long-term relationship you've ever had, and you've been fascinated by the way it has evolved. Seeing Yeonjun when you walk into a room doesn't fill you with nervous excitement anymore; rather, it calms you down, simply grounding you with his presence. You don't feel nervous about bringing your concerns to him, worried about what he might think about  you when you overanalyze the conversation afterwards—instead, you take comfort in the fact that he brings his concerns to you, too. He loves you. And you love him. 

You'd spent a year apart when he had graduated high school before you, but you'd promised with teary eyes as you helped him move into his college dormitory that you'd keep this going if that was what he wanted. "Don't, um...don't forget about me while you're having fun at college," you'd quipped in the parking lot right before you left. It was a joke (mostly), but Yeonjun had heard the worry in your voice. He'd smiled at you then, just like he had all those years ago. 

"Of course," he'd said, holding you tightly to his chest in an attempt to not betray any of his own worries about the next year. "You'll have to try a little harder to get rid of me, I hope you know." 

You did know—there was never any doubt in your mind that he loved you just as much as you loved him. Yeonjun had always kept his promises, and that year apart didn't change a thing. He made sure the two of you FaceTimed at least once a week, even during his exam seasons, and both of you always sent a goodnight, i love you text every day, even if it was the only thing you said to each other that day. You'd surprise him occasionally, making a trip up to his university to visit and spoil him all weekend, taking him wherever he wanted to eat, and he'd do the same to you on weekends he could come home. 

You had been so proud of both of you for keeping that relationship alive for the year you were apart, and Yeonjun was overjoyed when you told him you'd gotten into the university he was currently attending. It wasn't long before you were side-by-side every day once again, just like you'd been in high school, and you were still just as in love as you were back then. 

Yeonjun is remarkably smart—but you knew that already, knew it even when you offered to help him with pre-calculus back in high school. That's why it doesn't surprise you when he's able to graduate college early, on top of getting multiple grad school offers for his Master's degree. He takes you with him to tour the schools he's looking at, even though he knows you won't be there for a while—you're as much a part of his decision-making-process as he is. You'd waited for him in that interval before you'd gone to college—you can wait for him here, too.

Being with Yeonjun was like a dream, all of it. 

You suppose you had to wake up eventually.

II. FALL

It surprises you when those seeds of doubt begin to sow themselves in your mind. It's been three months since Yeonjun has left for grad school across the country, but you can count the number of times he's called to check on you on both hands. You know you aren't the same lovesick teenagers you were when he had gone off for college and left you for a year in high school, but you had thought that it wouldn't be that different.

But a good relationship is nothing without communication—you and Yeonjun haven't made it work this long without reminding each other occasionally to keep in touch. So you send him a quick text. 

< everything going okay? miss u <33

You don't have time to wait around for his reply, though—your shift at the university library starts in just under thirty minutes, so you decide you'd better go ahead and head that way.

Your coworkers are all lounging against the front desk when you clock in, clipping your nametag underneath your collar. "What's so funny?" you ask, tilting your head at their sudden giggling. 

Taehyun points towards the study corrals. "Kai's drooling." 

"I am not," Kai interrupts, frowning. "I..."

He trails off as a girl walks out of one of the study corrals, pulling her headphones out of her tote bag before placing them delicately over her ears, smiling softly as her music starts before she heads for the doors. 

You share a knowing glance with Taehyun, who smirks at you. He's been a close comfort as you've started university—you feel blessed to get along with all your coworkers, but Taehyun is someone you've meshed with practically right from the start. Your majors are in the same department, so you've had quite a bit of overlap with your required classes—you and Taehyun have already spent many a day off together back in the library, comparing notes and cramming for quizzes together. He's a much better note-taker than you, which is slightly aggravating, but your memory is better than his, so you usually remember class material better than he does. It's an unusual equivalent exchange between the two of you, but you're both pleased with how well it's worked so far. Not to mention how easy he is to spend time with—you swear your study sessions with Taehyun almost always feel like minutes instead of hours. It reminds you, sometimes, of how your first few dates with Yeonjun had gone (this, of course, is a thought you squash the moment it appears). 

"Oh, my God," Kai says, practically groaning even as you and Taehyun giggle at him. "She's so cute. What am I going to do?" 

Taehyun turns to you, smirking. "What do you think? Think he's got a chance?" 

You raise both your hands in mock self-defense. "Hey, this is all between Kai and that girl. Besides, I'd never date a coworker. Just gets too messy, you know?" 

Beomgyu pokes his head out from organizing the storage closet behind you. "Aren't you literally dating Yeonjun?"

You scoff. "I'll have you know I was dating Yeonjun long before he worked here. Or before I worked here, either." Yeonjun had only worked at the university library his first year, but he'd gotten along really well with Soobin, one of the managers, and putting in a good word for you certainly didn't hurt when you had told him you were looking for a job at the start of the school year.

Beomgyu makes a face. "Well. Shady application or not—you're reshelving the architecture textbooks upstairs since you're almost late." 

You aren't late, actually—you've clocked in five minutes early, but you don't quite have the energy for getting into a mostly-pretend argument with Beomgyu today. So you offer him a wink before grabbing a handful of architecture textbooks from the desk and heading upstairs to the art section. 

You pass several couples studying together on your way up to the third floor. Only a few are really studying, though—most have notebooks and laptops spread out, sure, but just about every other couple on a study date of their own is putting much more emphasis on the date part, rather than the study part. 

Not that you blame them at all—you and Yeonjun used to do the same thing. You remember plenty of study sessions where you'd gaze up from your computer to find Yeonjun taking a silly candid photo of you before you'd scoff, playfully begging him to delete it (which he would never do—you look too cute so focused like that, he'd say). But you always saw them later when he made them the lockscreen on his phone. 

You wonder what his lockscreen is now, you think absentmindedly as you haul several books onto one shelf. It's been months since you saw him or his phone. At that thought, you glance down at your own phone tucked into your jeans pocket to see if he's sent you any kind of response to your message earlier—but your notification screen is just as empty as it was the last time you checked. 

Those seeds of worry dig themselves deeper. 

But you tell yourself again not to worry. There's no point—you and Yeonjun have been through plenty together. You know you have no idea how busy and stressful graduate school must be, but you're sure you'll hear all about it the next time you see Yeonjun. 

It's the same thing you tell yourself when you get in your car to go back to your apartment once your shift ends, checking your phone once again to see an empty screen. 

And again tomorrow morning, when your notification screen is still blank (aside from the outdated memes Soobin is spamming your work groupchat with) on your way to class. 

There's no doubt about it now. Those seeds are planted. You're worried. 

But, as it turns out, only for a few hours—because you do finally, finally receive a reply from Yeonjun halfway through your shift at the library, your heart nearly pounding out of your chest in a way it hasn't in years when you finally see his name pop up at the top of your notifications. 

> hey! 

> can you talk soon? 

You look around the library. It's a Friday night—hardly anyone on campus is studying, but Soobin has still scheduled you, Taehyun, and Kai for tonight—you're practically over-staffed, so you're sure he won't mind if you step outside for a quick moment. 

You make your way towards the chemistry section, where Soobin is currently organizing some kind of midterms display. "Hi," you say, sweetly. 

He turns his head to face you, suspicion tugging at the corners of his eyes. "Hi," he repeats, slowly. "What's up?" 

"Mind if I step outside really quick? I have to make a call." 

Soobin narrows his eyes, and you know he's onto you. But he still gestures towards the door with his head before tapping on his wristwatch. "Just make it quick, alright?"

You nod way too quickly. "You got it," you say, beaming at him before practically dashing for the doors, pulling up Yeonjun's contact information on your phone and calling him immediately. 

He picks up on the third ring. "Hey," he starts.

"Hi," you respond, trying not to sound too terribly excited to hear his voice. "How's school going?"

He hums. "It's alright, I guess. You?" God, he sounds tired—you'll have to come up with something really nice to surprise him with the next time you see him. You're not sure what his favorite restaurants are in his new city, but you can ask around with his friends—you're sure he has plenty already. He's always been that way—that charm of his had certainly worked on you too, after all.

So you make a similar hum of agreement. "It's okay so far. I really miss you, Jjun." 

There's a strange pause after those words—as if you and Yeonjun had a script for your conversations, and he had lost his. You had fully expected him to return the sentiment, just like he always had before. Instead, you hear him take a breath. "Do you have time to talk, Y/N?"

The seeds of worry are back, digging themselves deeper and insisting on growing roots within your head. "Um...sure," you manage to get out, trying to ignore the sudden panic clawing at the bottom of your stomach. 

He sighs, and there's a long space of time before he continues. "...I really wish I could see you. You deserve this in person at least, you know? But...fuck, there's no easy way to do it, I guess. I—I don't think we should do this anymore. Us, I mean—I think we need to be done." 

You aren't sure if you heard him right. There's no, no way your Yeonjun just said...that. "...What?" you say, laughing nervously. "I'm sorry—are you saying we need a break?" 

Yeonjun clears his throat. "No," he says. "Not a break. I don't think that would be fair to either of us. I think we need to be done." 

Blindsided doesn't even begin to cover how you feel. You feel like Yeonjun has just dumped a bucket of ice water over your head through the phone. "Yeonjun—you're breaking up with me?" 

He takes a moment to reply. "Yeah, Y/N. I am. And I'm so, so sorry, I—"

"Over the phone?" you sputter, indignant tears blooming at the corners of your eyes. "You're ending a four and a half year relationship...over a phone call?" 

You can't see him, but you know the wince he's making, judging by the sound of the sigh that leaves his mouth. "I told you, I would've had to fly out to come see you—and I figured you probably wouldn't have let me stay the rest of the weekend at your place afterwards," he says, laughing awkwardly. "I'm too broke as it is these days anyway." 

You just can't believe what you're hearing. This is a nightmare. It has to be. "So...what?" you choke out, brushing back tears threatening to fall from the corners of your eyes. "Did I...do something?" 

"Oh, God, no," Yeonjun says hurriedly, and the concern in his voice is genuine. You know what that sounds like, at least. "Honestly. You didn't do anything, Y/N—it's my fault. I let this relationship grow static, and I let myself fall into a routine—and I just sort of stopped feeling the way I had before. I should have done this before, but I was too much of a coward, and I'm so, so sorry—I know it's a lot to ask of you, but I hope you can forgive me. Maybe we can be friends, one day." 

A long time passes before you answer. "One day," you repeat. "But not now." 

He lets out a short laugh. "I didn't think you'd want to be friends now." 

"I...fuck, Yeonjun," you say, nervous and shocked laughter escaping your throat. "I don't want this to be over at all. There's...there's no way this just came out of nowhere." 

He hums apprehensively. "I don't know what else I can say. It's the truth—I just let myself become bored with the relationship, and that's my fault. I should have tried harder a long time ago, and for that, I...I really am sorry." 

"I—I guess I just don't see why it isn't too late to try now," you stammer. "Why?"

"...Y/N, I don't want to try now, anymore," he whispers, and it's only then that you really get what he's been trying to tell you all along. He's done with you—whatever he felt for you all those years ago when you whispered your mutual confessions in that quiet art gallery, is gone. 

Yeonjun does not love you anymore. How you feel about him doesn't matter. 

It takes several uncomfortable beats of silence before you speak again. "Okay," you say, voice shaking. "Okay. I get it. G...goodbye, Yeonjun." 

He lets out a shaky sigh of his own. "Goodbye, Y/N. I'm so—"

But you hang up before he can say anything else. You don't want to hear another word from him now. You're trembling as you end the call, sliding your phone back into your back pocket. You're going home—there's no fucking way you can make it through the rest of your shift after this. You walk back inside as calmly as you can, sliding your nametag off your collar and placing it on the desk. 

Taehyun hasn't quite turned around to see you when you do so. "Oh, Y/N, you won't believe what Kai just sent—huh?" He frowns, finally noticing your nametag on the front counter. 

"Can you, um...can you tell Soobin when he gets back that I'm going home? I'll come early on Saturday, I'll do whatever he needs me to do to make up for this time, but I really need to go home." You absolutely cannot, under any circumstance, let them see you like this—especially not Taehyun, your favorite coworker. You don't think he'd ever let you hear the end of it. 

His eyebrows furrow in confusion. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you say, way, way too quickly to be nothing. "I'm sick. I...I-I'll see you guys on Saturday, okay?" You turn around and walk towards the library doors as fast as you can, practically making a beeline for the doors—but you aren't fast enough to not hear the familiar sound of Taehyun unclipping his own nametag and slamming it on the desk behind you. 

"Kai, tell Soobin I'm feeling sick, too. I'll call Beomgyu to come cover for me for the rest of this shift." 

"You...what?" Kai practically splutters, leaning over the front counter to call after the both of you. "What the hell's wrong with you two?" 

You have to make it to the car. You can have the breakdown you so desperately need in there, but you are not going to sob your eyes out right outside the university library. 

Taehyun, however, apparently isn't going to let you do either. "Y/N," he says behind you once the two of you are outside, grabbing hold of your bicep. "What's going on? What's wrong? Please—just talk to me."

You shake your head. "Taehyun, please, I just need to go home. I'm going to have a fucking meltdown right on the street if you don't at least let me get to my car," you sputter, voice trembling as you try to keep the tears at bay. 

But Taehyun shakes his head too. "No. We can go in my car. You said you parked in the guest lot today because you were almost late. Remember?"

You do remember—and at this point, you don't care enough to argue with him. So you nod in agreement, following him into the lot in a walk that has to be the longest minute and a half of your life. Once you're in Taehyun's car, though, shutting the passenger door behind you, you can't fight the tears prickling at your eyes anymore. 

"Hey—hey, talk to me, Y/N. Please. What's going on?" 

You shake your head, burying your head in your hands to try to muffle your sobs. "He broke up with me, Tae," you manage to choke out, even though the verbal confirmation of what just happened just makes you cry harder. 

"He—what? The fuck? Yeonjun?" 

"Who else?" you snap back, voice shaking. "He said we've...grown apart since he moved away. That he doesn't love me anymore. But I still love him, Taehyun," you sniff, tears tracking down your face and slipping into your open mouth in what must be an absolute mess to behold. "What am I supposed to do?"

If Taehyun thinks you look a mess, though, he doesn't tell you. "Fuck...Y/N, I'm so, so sorry," he starts, gently. "I know that doesn't mean anything—but I really am."

You shake your head. "No. It does mean something." 

He gestures towards his backseat. "If you want to beat up my backseats, go for it. I've done that after a few shitty shifts before—it can be pretty cathartic." 

But you just shake your head again, sniffling. "I just want to go home, Taehyun. Please." 

He just nods, turning the keys in the ignition before reaching into the center console in his car to grab an envelope of tissues, taking several and handing them to you. "In case you need these." 

You sniff again. "Thank you," you say, even though you know you're nowhere near done crying about this. 

You don't live too far from the university, so Taehyun's pulling into the parking lot of your apartment building before you know it. Your apartment is only on the second floor, and there's a set of stairs outside, so Taehyun is able to park almost right below your apartment. He turns to face you again. "This is you, right?" 

You nod. "Yes. Thank you, Tae." 

He glances for a moment at your door before looking back at you, worry etched on his features. "You want some time to yourself? I can come back tomorrow if you want me to check on you." 

Normally, you think, you'd say yes. You'd want to go finish crying by yourself and getting it all out of your system right before you force yourself to fall asleep—but you think about your apartment. You think about the hoodies in your closet, the pictures adorning your shelves, the stuffed animals on your bed—Yeonjun is everywhere in your apartment. You can't face these remainders of him alone.

So you shake your head. "No, I...um, can you come inside, please? You don't have to stay, I just don't know if I can—"

But Taehyun doesn't let you finish, turning off the car's ignition and opening his door, immediately walking around to open yours. Normally, you'd make some quip here about chivalry not being dead, but you can't find the energy within yourself to make anything of the sort. 

You make your way up the stairs before unlocking your door and making your way to your bedroom, trying to avoid the onslaught of photos of you and Yeonjun in the living room before collapsing onto your bed, covering your face in your pillows and sobbing the way you wanted to earlier. You hardly even notice Taehyun beside you, rubbing small circles on your back while you soak the pillowcase below you, chest heaving with hiccups in between sobs. 

You don't turn around to face him until you feel like you've emptied every tear in your eyes, now red and puffy as you catch your breath. 

Taehyun frowns at the state of you, finally moving his hand away from the small of your back. "Where are your washcloths?" he asks. 

What? "Um...o-on the rack beside the shower," you say, gesturing towards the bathroom in the hallway. 

You're perplexed when he leaves, even more so when you hear the sound of the sink running, but he's back in an instant with a wet cloth, sitting back down beside you on your bed. He hesitates for an instant. "For your cheeks," he says, tapping his own. "It'll feel better." 

Oh. "Thanks," you say, somewhat lamely, before taking the washcloth from his hands. It's warm, you realize, and he's right—it does feel nice on your tear-stained cheeks, especially under your now-puffy eyes—a gentle contrast to the sobs that had racked your entire body minutes ago. 

You set the washcloth down, looking back up at Taehyun, who offers you a reassuring smile—one you've seen plenty of times at the library, when one of you has messed up on organizing a section and had to endure a lecture from Soobin. It's not a bad expression to be on the receiving end of. "Come here," he says, opening his arms, and you let him pull you into his chest without a second thought. It's the first time you've hugged Taehyun, you think absentmindedly—but you suppose that doesn't matter. You're grateful to have him here with you now—you can't imagine how much worse you'd feel alone in your room now. 

He lets you hold onto him for as long as you need, only pulling away when you do. "Did you eat before work?" he asks softly. 

You shake your head. You'd planned on making something from your pantry after your shift, but the thought of getting up and being productive right now feels like a Herculean task. 

Taehyun must be able to see the exhaustion on your face, because he just nods. "That's okay," he says. "I'll order in." 

And he does. You spend the rest of the evening eating takeout from the Thai place down the street on your bed with Taehyun, who stays beside you and makes sure you have a nearly-full glass on your nightstand at all times, to make up for how you'd practically dehydrated yourself sobbing. And you do cry again in the middle of eating dinner, but Taehyun doesn't flinch—he just nestles you in his sturdy arms again until you don't have any tears left to cry. 

He does make a comment about leaving if you'd prefer sometime past midnight, but one look from you causes the rest of the sentence to die on his tongue, and he doesn't say another word about it. 

You wake up in the morning just before noon, and you feel only a single instant pang of panic before you see Taehyun's outstretched limbs on the couch in the living room, chest rising and falling evenly in sleep. You aren't sure when he got up to let you sleep on your own—you hardly even remember falling asleep, but the sight of him causes your heartbeat to even back out for a moment. 

That doesn't last long, though—it's only an instant before your barely-awake mind remembers what had caused him to spend the night in the first place, and you immediately feel that now-familiar twinge of sorrow in your chest. 

And it doesn't go away—no, that feeling hangs heavy in your chest. You know, then and there, that it's going to be a weight you'll carry around for a long time. 

III. WINTER.

You're right on all accounts. 

You never flat out tell the rest of your coworkers what happened between you and Yeonjun, but they must be able to read between the lines—all of them tiptoe around you for weeks. Even Soobin never teases you at work anymore, which you almost miss. You aren't a piece of glass, after all—but with the way that everyone treats you at work, you'd think you were. 

But maybe there's some truth to their treatment. Not a day goes by that you don't think about Yeonjun's words—that he'd basically just gotten bored with you. You know he'd said you hadn't done anything, but you had to have done something for that to occur, right? It didn't make any sense otherwise. 

You are proud of yourself when your track record for "crying over Yeonjun" goes from every day to once a week, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't still hurt. Just like the love you'd known from him had been something beautiful like you'd never experienced, you've never known anything as painful as this.

So much of your identity before had been being Yeonjun's partner. For Christ's sake, he was the whole reason you'd been able to get this job at the library in the first place—and now you have to distance yourself from that. You have to. You don't have another choice.

At one point, Beomgyu does suggest going out for drinks after work with Soobin. "Everyone's going," he adds gently, as if that will somehow be the thing to convince you to pull yourself out of your mental wallowing. "Won't be as fun without you, though." 

You force a smile across your lips. You do still remember how to do that, right? Smile? "I, um...I'll have to catch you guys next time. I'm busy that night." 

Beomgyu's eyes narrow. "I haven't told you what day we're going out yet, Y/N." 

You wince. "Beomgyu, I—I'm sorry. I really appreciate you trying, but I just don't think I'm there yet. I'm sorry."

He rolls his eyes a little at that. "I think this is exactly what you need right now, personally. We'll make sure you have fun, I promise. So much fun that you won't even think about old what's-his-name the entire night." 

You know good and well that Beomgyu remembers Yeonjun's name, and that he's practically putting on a show to convince you to go get drunk with him and Soobin and God knows who else—but you can't. Not yet. So you turn him down again, and this time he finally relents, taking the hint and leaving to sort through the returned books bin. Going out and getting drunk enough to forget Yeonjun probably is what you need right now—but you know you aren't there yet (Even admitting the 'yet'—the knowledge that you eventually will be at that point, whether you like it or not—is painful). Wanting to forget Yeonjun is accepting that what the two of you had is over, and truth be told, you aren't ready to do that. You're fully in denial—and you know it. 

But that doesn't mean you're in the right state of mind to do anything about it. For God's sake, you haven't even been able to go through the photo album of you and Yeonjun on your phone yet and delete a single photo. The scraps of sanity that still call out to you occasionally within your mind tell you that you need to delete those photos of the two of you, that seeing them later will just make you feel worse—but you can't. Any act of cementing the end of the relationship is still just nothing short of unthinkable to you. 

You're very much a prisoner of your own mind for the rest of the semester, whether or not you're willing to admit it, as you continue replaying Yeonjun's last words to you in your head, over and over. And over. And over. And over again. It's unhealthy—you know that. But you don't stop. You can't stop thinking about what you should have done differently to prevent this. Sure, he'd said you hadn't done anything, but that must have been a polite lie. Something must have happened. Had you been overbearing? Annoying? Had you changed, somehow? Had he? 

Your friends and coworkers all tread lightly around you for the first month or so after the breakup, checking on you occasionally and reminding you that everything will be alright eventually (a lie, you know). Beomgyu gives you the notes from your morning class whenever you skip. Kai covers for you when you call out of work. Soobin looks the other way when you take fifteen minute bathroom breaks (which usually end up with you crying in the stall) and doesn't say a word when you come back, eyes puffier than before. 

But that's exhausting to keep up with—you know that. Everyone becomes less forgiving around the middle of the semester—you still haven't gotten over that guy? What's wrong with you? You're still missing class and falling behind on assignments? Why can't you get a grip? No one says this out loud to you, of course, but you can pick up on the subtext—the implications between a shared glance between Beomgyu and Kai at work when you're almost late, between your friends when you tell them you have to finish an essay that was due yesterday—looks that pierce like a dagger to your stomach. Everyone is sick and tired of you.

Well—almost everyone. Kang Taehyun is a different story altogether. 

You fully expected him to behave like everyone else—why wouldn't he? The two of you were friends, and good friends, at that, before your life as you'd known it had imploded in on itself, but you wouldn't have considered him to be a best friend by any means. Maybe you had missed some kind of memo, though—because if the way he's treated you since Yeonjun broke up with you is any indicator, his feelings towards your friendship are not at all what you'd thought they were. 

Not a day goes by that you don't eat at least two meals a day, and that's because Taehyun is checking on you daily to make sure you've eaten. More than once, he's driven over to your house with food from his pantry to ensure there is something in your apartment to eat. He helps you stay on top of your schoolwork, too—hell, the only reason you even remember to do that essay at all is because Taehyun reminds you. And yet, these reminders never feel like a scolding, or like he's judging or chastising you—rather, it just feels like he's looking out for you. He's the only person looking out for you, you think—maybe even more so than yourself. 

Which is why it surprises you, one cold, melancholy November evening as the two of you walk home from class, when Taehyun suggests talking to Yeonjun again. 

Your eyes widen. "What?" 

Taehyun nods, shifting his shoulders as he adjusts his backpack. "Sure. I...I think it would be good for you to get more closure from the whole thing. That's what's keeping you so upset, isn't it? That you don't really get why he did it?" 

You suppose there's an element of truth to that. You certainly don't understand Yeonjun's actions—but the truth of the matter is that you aren't ready to let him go. You weren't three months ago when he called you, and you still aren't now. The ache in your chest that you've felt for so long hasn't subsided in the least—like a knife that only digs deeper every time you remember it's there. 

But you nod anyway. "Yeah, I...I guess that's part of it. But—I can't just text him, Taehyun. What the hell am I supposed to say? 'Hi Yeonjun! Miss you, hope you haven't been feeling the same soul-crushing loneliness that I have for the past three months?'"

Taehyun winces at that before turning to face forward again, gazing at the sidewalk ahead of you with a sigh. "Maybe not quite like that. But...I don't know. He said he wanted to be friends, right? I don't see why you couldn't at least try."

But you don't want to be friends with Yeonjun—that's been the problem. Not just friends. You want to let yourself love him again, to feel that kind of tenderness and contentment and perfect warmth like you've never felt from another person before. 

But that clearly is no longer an option on the table for you. What Taehyun is suggesting, however, might be. Maybe he's right. Something would be better than nothing with Yeonjun. Wouldn't it? 

This conversation is how you find yourself later that night with your phone on your bed in front of you, fingers shaking slightly over the keypad from the nervous weight you feel at the bottom of your stomach. You've already typed out the entire message. You should just send it. 

< hey, did you mean what you said about being friends? 

God, why are you so nervous? It's not like you don't know the man—for Christ's sake, you spent over four years of your life convinced that you knew just about everything there was to know about Yeonjun. You knew about his favorite flowers, the piercings he wanted to get, how comically tremendous his appetite could sometimes be and how he'd always compliment your cooking, regardless of how you felt about it—but maybe none of that had mattered. You hadn't known that he'd felt bored with the relationship. You'd let that knowledge slip past you, somehow. 

You press send on the message before you can talk yourself out of it, turning your phone over and stepping into the bathroom to take a shower, hoping you can think about something, anything else to hide the bubbles of anxiety floating upwards into your chest at the thought that Yeonjun may have responded already. 

You practically leap out of the shower when you're finished, hair still dripping beads of water down your back as you wrap a towel around yourself, making your way back into your bedroom and grabbing for your phone. 

Your eyes widen. 

> yeah, i did. 

> would you be okay with that? 

The anxiety within your chest dissipates like hot water under the sun, if only for a moment. Your Yeonjun, and the effect he still has on you. 

< yeah, i would. 

His reply comes only a few minutes later. 

> okay. cool :) 

> i actually thought about sending this to you the other day. reminded me of you

[link]

Attached is a link to a YouTube video—a piano rendition of a song you'd listened to all the time (and probably forced Yeonjun to listen to in the process) when you'd first begun dating. It sounds beautiful on piano, the melody a bright cascade of hopeful and energetic sounding chords, and you feel your chest tighten with warmth as the video keeps playing. 

It had made him think of you. 

The warmth you'd felt in your chest before suddenly shifts to a suffocating cold. This is probably a bad idea. Yeonjun saying he wants to be friends probably means just that—that he wants to be friends. Nothing else. You, of course, don't feel that way at all, if the way your heart had soared when you saw his message is any indicator. You're just going to get attached again to someone you know doesn't feel the same way about you. You're only setting yourself up for more heartbreak—part of you knows that. 

But you don't stop yourself from playing the video again, butterflies rushing through your stomach. 

~~~

The weeks leading up to winter break are infinitely better than the beginning of the semester. You're comfortably caught up and staying on top of all your assignments. When Soobin assigns you more hours at the library, you don't utter a word of protest. One of your professors even comments on how much better you've done on this last essay than your first of the semester. 

Taehyun seems pleased to see you in better spirits too. He still checks on you just about every day, but there seems to be less urgency in his messages. He's not as concerned as he was a few weeks ago, and you almost feel a twinge of...something at that thought, not quite regret but not quite disappointment, either—but you brush it away just as quickly. 

Thoughts like those are easy to push away now that you're speaking to Yeonjun again. 

If it was one of your other friends in your situation, you think, you'd probably be concerned with how fast they turned around on their ex-boyfriend, going from being completely, utterly heartbroken to gushing over a cute TikTok he'd sent—but you ignore those thoughts when they come, too. Maybe you are making a bad decision by trying to be friends with Yeonjun, but you can't find it in yourself to care enough to stop. This momentary happiness is worlds away from the unbearable heartbreak you'd felt before, even if it is likely temporary. Besides, there haven't been any repercussions of this choice yet, anyway. 

Yet being the key word. 

A few days before fall break, Soobin approaches you, Taehyun, and Kai in the middle of your shared shift, the three of you definitely doing the work he'd assigned to you and definitely not talking behind the counter about a movie you're making plans to go see after your shifts end. 

Soobin clears his throat, and the three of you jump, turning to face him. He lets out a sigh. "Are all three of you going home for break?" 

You all shake your heads no. 

He perks up a bit at that. "Oh. Okay. Good! The library isn't going to be open all week, but we're still doing limited hours. Would any of you be open to working over the break? It'll be time-and-a-half pay."

Kai suddenly grabs for his phone in his back pocket, even though you don't think you heard it buzz. "Huh—look at that. My mom just texted and said she actually does want me to come home for the break now. Sorry!" 

Soobin makes an exasperated frown, but he doesn't say anything else to Kai, turning to you instead. "Y/N?"

You shrug. "Sure, I can work. I'll be here anyway." 

Taehyun suddenly shifts, standing up a little taller beside you. "Me too. I don't mind." 

Soobin nods. "Okay, great. Thanks, you guys. I'll be here the first day, but the other four days it'll be just you two here. So..." he takes in a slow breath. "Don't do anything stupid. Okay?" 

You can practically feel Taehyun fighting back a grin beside you out of the corner of your eye, and you have to bite your tongue to keep a laugh of your own from escaping you at Soobin's remark. "Okay, boss," you say, bringing a hand to your forehead in an overly enthusiastic salute. "We won't." 

Taehyun and Kai both snort at your words, but Soobin just crosses his arms. "I mean it. Don't do anything I wouldn't do, okay? Or...anything I wouldn't let either of you do. You know what I mean." He narrows his eyes. 

But you just laugh. "I promise, Soobin. We'll be fine. It's just limited hours, like you said, right? And it'll be over the break. We'll probably be the only ones in the library the whole week. What could go wrong?" 

His frown only deepens at that. "...I don't even think I want to imagine that," he says before walking away, and the three of you only let out giggles once he's out of earshot. Truthfully, as much as you enjoy teasing Soobin with your other coworkers, you really don't think working over the break will be bad at all. 

And in truth, it isn't the working part that ends up being the problem. It's what happens when you're at work. 

To absolutely no one's surprise, the library is completely, utterly dead over the break. You can count on both hands the number of people that walk in for the first three days as you and Taehyun stand behind the counter, chatting quietly until you run out of things to talk about. By noon on Thursday, the two of you are the only people in the library, scrolling on your phones aimlessly with your shoes propped up against the help desk as the soft scratch of classical music plays over the speakers above you. 

You smile when you see you've gotten a message from Yeonjun, opening your messages to see what he's sent now. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Taehyun giving you a knowing smirk in response to the grin tugging at the corners of your mouth—but you can't hide it. You wouldn't dare, you think. 

It's a video of Yeonjun talking, telling you about a baby that kept waving to him on the plane back from his university. His fall break is the same week as yours, so he's going home today to spend the rest of the weekend with his family. 

You take a quick response video, teasing him about his and the baby's apparent shared brain cells before going back to your mindless scrolling. 

Or—you try to, at least. The moment your Instagram feed refreshes, you find yourself staring, unblinking at the first post on your page. 

It's from Yeonjun's account. It's a picture of him at the airport. And he isn't alone. Standing beside him, arms wrapped around his middle with his around their neck, eyes closed and lips turned upward in a practically radiant smile, is a girl. She looks like she's been caught off guard by Yeonjun, but she's not disappointed about it by any means, if the candid joy radiating from her expression is anything to go by. You glance down at his caption. 

thankful for you. 

There's only one comment so far, which you're assuming is from her. 

SO happy to spend this week with u <3

He might as well have put up a neon sign, you think. You know you can't know for sure, but you almost feel like this was directed at you—the caption, at the very least. Yeonjun has a girlfriend. He's moved on from you, in every sense of the phrase. 

Taehyun must have noticed your suddenly expressionless face, because you see him frown across from you out of the corner of your eye. "Everything alright over there?" 

You extend your arm towards him, showing him your phone screen wordlessly. His eyes widen. "Is that...no fucking way. He has a girlfriend?" 

You nod, that all-too-familiar lump in your throat making its presence known once again. "Yeah," you reply, avoiding his stunned gaze. "I guess so." 

Taehyun doesn't look away from you, even after you draw your arm back into your lap. "Y/N," he starts, quietly. Speaking to you the way you'd speak to a wounded animal—gently, but as if you could practically explode at any moment. It almost makes you feel worse. "Are you..." he stops, trailing off before he can even finish the thought before shaking his head. "Do you want to take a break for a minute?" He gestures with his head towards the punch clock on the wall behind the two of you. 

But you shake your head. "No, I...I don't think so," you say. As strange as it seems, you don't feel nearly as upset as you did when Yeonjun had called to break up with you. Seeing that he's already moved on feels like ripping a metaphorical band-aid off. In a way, you sort of needed to see that he's moved on—that your hopes that the two of you could get back together, somehow, were foolish. Maybe this neon sign of an Instagram post is exactly what you needed. 

Taehyun, however, doesn't seem entirely convinced, frown only deepening at your words. "Are you sure? We can get out of here, you know. It's just us in here right now." 

You shake your head again. "No. We've still got nearly another hour—I don't think Soobin would be very happy if he found out we closed the library early just because I flipped out over Yeonjun again," you say, laughing weakly. 

He snaps his fingers at you. "So you admit it! You are flipping out!" 

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms across your chest. "That is not what I—"

But Taehyun is already taking off his nametag, placing it under the counter and grabbing the keys for the front door. He turns around once he's within a few feet of the front door, gazing at you expectantly. "Well? Come on." 

You gesture with your arm at the library before you. "Taehyun, you've got to be joking. We cannot just get up and leave. What if someone needs to come study?" 

He raises an eyebrow at you. "You think someone's going to need to come study? Over fall break? The day of the holiday? Not a chance."

"How are we going to punch out then, smart guy?" you ask indignantly. 

But Taehyun just shrugs. "I'll just tell Soobin tomorrow that we both forgot, and he'll have to enter our punch-out times manually. Shouldn't be a big deal." 

But you narrow your eyes at him. "'Shouldn't be a big deal?' You seriously think Soobin won't find it a bit suspicious that we both just happened to forget to punch out as we were leaving?" 

"Not really. Look..." he says, starting softer this time. "If something happens, I'll take the fall for it. Alright? You need to get out of here." 

You take another glance at the empty, quiet library. It's only an hour early. Maybe Soobin won't find out, somehow, by some miraculous stroke of luck that you know you don't exactly tend to have—but that lump in your throat hasn't gone away since you saw the picture of Yeonjun. So you nod. "Okay," you say, pulling your nametag off and sliding it under the desk beside Taehyun's, an action that wins you a growing smile on the man's face. "Let's get out of here, then." 

You follow him out of the library, watching him lock the door and swallowing the momentary twinge of guilt at his actions. 

Taehyun seems to read your mind, though. He looks up at you once the doors are locked. "Don't chicken out on me now. Okay? I promise. We'll be okay." 

You nod wordlessly. "Let's just get out of here, then." 

He smiles at you—that big ear-to-ear grin that causes nearly all of your worries to dissipate at just the sight. "That's the spirit. Come on. Are you up for going for a drive?" 

"Sure," you say, nodding. Anywhere is better than being here, slowly falling into the trap of your own thoughts that you thought you'd narrowly escaped a month ago. 

So you get in Taehyun's car once again, gazing out the window at the sun slowly lowering against the horizon, oranges and pinks spreading across the sky as if they were deliberate brush strokes from some invisible hands—just as beautiful as those paintings you and Yeonjun had gazed at that day you both whispered your mutual confessions to each other. 

You shove that thought away just as Taehyun parks the car, and you look out the windshield to see where you are. You're at the top of a tall hill, trees around you on all sides as you gaze down at the college town before you. It looks so small from this distance, you think. 

"I've never been here before," you say, turning to look at Taehyun. "I didn't even know this place existed." 

He nods, still looking at the city below the two of you. "Beomgyu took me here once after a really bad shift. Got yelled at by some grad student for not having an extra copy of a textbook for them to loan when they had an exam tomorrow—you know the drill. It's a good spot to clear your head, I think."

You find that you'd have to agree the longer you stare down at the city, thinking about the perspective it affords you. 

"We don't live in a huge college town, compared to some others, but there's still so, so many people down there. You know?" Taehyun says, as if he's reading your thoughts. Again. How is he so good at that? "I don't want you to ever think one person is the only person you could ever be with. That he's the only chance you'll ever get at love—that just can't be possible." 

You know what he means. You even think it's true—you know it is, logically. But that doesn't mean this lingering heartbreak aching in your chest, in your lungs, in your veins, hurts any less. "Damn you, Kang Taehyun," you say quietly. "You make too much sense." 

He laughs at that, finally tearing his gaze away from the city before him and turning to face you. 

But you aren't finished, taking a deep breath before you continue. "I should've never let myself care about someone this much. This—this whole thing," you say, waving your arm in front of you in a vague gesture, "is just so stupid."

He frowns at that. "No," Taehyun says, shaking his head. "This isn't stupid. You're not stupid." 

You shake your head right back. "I let being Yeonjun's partner be my most important trait. It was all I cared about—he was all I cared about. I shouldn't have done that, shouldn't have put him on such a pedestal like that." 

Taehyun mulls your words over for a moment. "Maybe," he says. "But I don't think you should be mad at yourself for loving him. There's nothing wrong with that. And I think you've learned and grown through the relationship—you'll probably be a better partner in the next one you're in, too." 

That thought still stings—of another relationship, of giving up completely on Yeonjun. Even though he's obviously given up on you. "I just don't know what I did wrong. I have to have done something—a relationship doesn't just end like that. Does it?" Yeonjun had been so many of your firsts—and now, he was the first person to ever break up with you. You'd always been the one in charge of that in the brief relationships you'd had before him, the ones that hadn't left nearly the kind of impact Yeonjun had had on you. 

Taehyun shrugs lightly. "I don't have that much experience, but I can tell you that sometimes that is exactly what happens. People really can fall out of love—of course, that's because of their own feelings. Not usually anything to do with the other person," he adds quickly. "If anything, it says how much more equipped you are to handle a long-term, long-distance relationship than he is. You're the mature one. He's not." 

"Clearly not," you scoff. "I'm still the one crying over him, and he's already moved on. Sounds like he's more mature than I am." 

"That I disagree with," Taehyun counters immediately. "The fact that it's still upsetting you means that the relationship meant something different to you than it did to him—he must not have taken it as seriously as you. And that's his fault." 

You're quiet for a moment after that. The sun has almost completely set now, dusk enveloping the college town before you as the city lights begin to twinkle in the dark. But you still find yourself ruminating. The hollowness you feel now is almost scarier than the heartbreak—you aren't even that sad anymore. Just empty. And you tell Taehyun this. "It still scares me—feeling like I don't know who I am now. I feel like I built up an entire imaginary future with him—and now I don't know what to expect of anything anymore." 

Taehyun takes a breath as he nods. "I know," he says gently. "But the future is always like that. You know? Nothing's ever guaranteed, no matter how much we cling to the things we care about. Still—I want you to know that you're so, so much more than being someone's partner. I think you're incredibly clever, and funny, and smart, and beautiful—don't you dare look at me like that, Y/N," he says, only somewhat teasingly as you raise your eyebrows at that last addition. "I'm serious. It's okay to care about someone, but I want you to know that you are still worth so, so much as your own person. Regardless of whether you're with someone or not."

You wish you had better words to say to Taehyun—poetic, soft words to thank him in the same way that he's comforting you. Instead, you let the silence speak for you, losing yourself to the soft hum of Taehyun's radio and the glittering stars that have finally come out in the sky. It's a comfortable silence, though—and you feel those knots of worry and heartbreak at the pit of your stomach slowly start to untangle themselves. Just a little—but they do nonetheless. 

It's long past nightfall when Taehyun finally drives you home, telling you goodnight and looking like there's more that he wants to say, even as he drives away—but you find yourself content in the moment anyway, even when you get ready for bed and slip under your covers.

But that doesn't mean the pain has gone away entirely. 

Taehyun had told you to call him if you started feeling down about the whole situation, but when you wake up in the morning and feel that familiar heavy sorrow in your chest, you don't tell Taehyun a thing. Instead, you let yourself lie on your side and bring your knees up to your chest and weep, burying your face in the pillowcase until it's practically soaked through from your tears. You let yourself cry for yourself—for the version of you who has died, for the Yeonjun you had loved for so long and with such intensity, and for you now who will never again be the person you were before. 

It would be different if the two of you had ended things dramatically, you think—if Yeonjun had cheated on you, or if you had been an unsupportive partner—but none of those things happened. It just ended. And he has already moved on, the way you imagine a normal person does. 

Somehow, you think, that still makes it worse. 

But you think back on what Taehyun had said to you last night, even as you brush away the tears staining your cheeks. Choi Yeonjun is not the only person in the world—it doesn't make sense to think of him as the only person who could ever love you. Yes, your relationship coming to an end still hurts like nothing you've ever experienced before—but already you can feel that ache subsiding, even if those moments are few and far between. Yeonjun had fully severed what was left of the two of you, but it now feels to you like it was necessary. Like it was something you needed—the beginning of a new path for you. 

~~~

The rest of the semester goes by in a blur after fall break. You're so caught up in the mess of finals and work that you barely have time to think about anything else, let alone what's left of your feelings towards Yeonjun. 

If Soobin knows about you and Taehyun closing early and conveniently forgetting to punch out, he never says a word—but you do work considerably more hours than usual in the weeks leading up to your final exams. Soobin says it's the busiest time of the year for the library, so he needs all hands on deck to help all the students coming in and out. Which you do believe—but you still have a sneaky feeling that you and Taehyun are working more than Beomgyu and Kai. 

You wonder if your professors are all in some kind of secret conspiracy to make their students suffer as much as possible, since all five of your exams are stacked over the course of three days. You survive, even after pulling an all-nighter to prepare, which does mean that you should be able to relax at the end of the week while your other coworkers are still cramming. On Friday, though Beomgyu and Kai still have one last final, which is why you and Taehyun both find yourselves working a double to cover for them while they take their exams. It's a long shift, full of snappy students and an exhausted Soobin—by the time 10 p.m. finally rolls around, you feel yourself on the verge of collapsing as you clock out with Taehyun. 

Your favorite coworker raises an eyebrow at your exhausted state. "You alright?" he asks, tapping at his shirt collar before extending a hand to you. 

Your nametag. Christ, you'd almost forgotten. You sigh, nodding as you slip your nametag off of your shirt before placing it in Taehyun's waiting palm, who then moves to slide it under the front counter with his and your other coworkers' tags. "You mean you don't feel like you're about to pass out after that? I thought today would never end."

He laughs a little as the two of you walk towards the front door. "Sure I do. But you saw what Kai sent in the work chat, right? He and Beomgyu are going out later tonight now that they're done with finals. Of course, I'm not sure if that means they feel like they did good or bad, to be honest—but I guess we'll know when we get there. I told them I'd meet them once we were done with work."

You laugh too, pulling your car keys out of your pocket now that you're only a few feet from your respective vehicles. "Yeah, I saw it. But you guys can go ahead—I think I need to turn in early tonight. I'll see you all after the break, okay?" 

The look on Taehyun's face fades a little, and he stops walking right in front of your cars. "Are you sure? It might be fun—you know how funny Beomgyu gets." 

You stop walking too, standing beside him. The thought of tipsy Beomgyu does bring back fond memories of work parties past—the occasion where he tried to convince everyone to jump into a pool, fully clothed, at the house party where you all barely knew the owner was a particularly fun one—but you don't feel up for it tonight. So you shake your head. "No—I'm too tired, Taehyun. But you all have fun, seriously. Just be safe, alright?" You wink at him teasingly. 

But he doesn't return the gesture. Rather, an unusual look washes over his face—an expression of determination that you aren't sure you've ever seen from him before. "You're going home tomorrow, right?" he asks suddenly. 

You nod. "Yeah, I'm spending the break with my parents. Why?" 

Taehyun visibly swallows before he opens his mouth again to speak. You feel a sudden uneasiness develop in the pit of your stomach just before you hear him say "I'm telling you now, then. I like you, Y/N." Suddenly. Just the way Yeonjun had in that art museum all those years ago. 

The two of you are outside, but you suddenly feel like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the parking lot you're standing in. You blink. "What?" 

He nods, gaze unwavering from yours. "I like you." 

He's joking. He has to be. Either that, or you really did pass out in the library earlier, and this is all some kind of dream. "...You like me," you repeat, slowly. A short laugh escapes you before you can stop yourself. "What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said," he says. "I know this is a pretty terrible time to tell you this, but—"

"Yes," you say, practically unable to believe what you're hearing. "Yes, Taehyun, this is a terrible time to tell me—God, why would you tell me this?" 

"Because it's true," he replies almost instantly. "And I'm not telling you because I want you to say the same thing. You don't have to say anything, actually, I...I just wanted you to know." 

Your heart sinks to your chest at that. "So, you...you'd confess to someone who you know won't reciprocate? Why?" 

Taehyun shakes his head. "I'm not telling you because I want anything to happen. Not right now, anyway—I'm not that stupid. I think." He tries to laugh, but the sound doesn't quite come out right. "I just want you to know, in case you ever feel the same way." 

In case you ever feel the same way. He doesn't think you like him back. Hell—do you? The thought of romance has been so banned from your mind for the last several months that you haven't even entertained the notion, whether it was Taehyun or anyone else in the world—but you think about that. You think about the way those feelings of tight anxiety in your chest loosen when you see that you're scheduled to work with him, how your heart beats faster when you get a notification on your phone from him—not to mention that evening you'd spent in his car on the hilltop overlooking the city. Those feelings of warmth that ignite within you every time you'd looked over at him that night probably were feelings of attraction. You just haven't been able to even entertain this thought, of liking someone else, in ages. You almost can't ever remember when—and that frightens you. "I...I think I do feel that way, though," you say. "I care about you, Taehyun. So, so much. You've been the only person I could depend on for the last three months, but...but I think you deserve better than this. God, you should know better than anyone that I'm nowhere near being over Yeonjun. That I'm in no state to even think about dating someone right now." You laugh, tone dripping with self-deprecation. "I'm a mess. I barely even remember what those feelings are even like. You have to know that anything I do in this mental state now would just be a rebound, even if I didn't want it to be, and I...I don't want to do that to you." 

Taehyun nods quickly, taking a step closer. "You're not a mess. But I do know how you feel—which is why I wanted to tell you. You don't have to do anything about it now if you don't want to," he says again. "I just wanted you to know." 

You shake your head, surprised to feel sudden tears of frustration brimming at the corners of your eyes. "God...Taehyun, please don't do this to me," you whisper, holding back a sniff. He's close enough to you that he can hear, even at this volume. "I don't want to lose you too." Things will never be the same between the two of you—you know this as well as you know your own name. No matter how much the two of you try to awkwardly dance around each other from now on, you'll never forget that you had this conversation. You can never go back to just being friends. 

But Taehyun shakes his head fervently. "You won't lose me," he says, voice unwavering before he makes a slight move to reach for your hand out of instinct before stopping himself. "Not if you don't want to. I'll stick around for as long as you want me to." 

You grab his hand anyway, even as he looks up at you in shock. "So...what? You'd wait for me?" you say, laughing quietly. "I can't ask that of you. That isn't fair to you." 

He just shakes his head again. "If you want me to, I will. I'll wait as long as you need me to—I'm telling you, I don't mind."

You scoff a little at that before you can stop yourself. "You say that now, but I...I have no idea when I'll feel ready to think about being with anyone again. I'm sorry, Taehyun—but I don't know how long this could take. You know? I mean, I'd hope it wouldn't be years," you say, laughing hollowly, "but I just have no idea. And I just don't understand why you would do this—wait for me. I mean...look at you," you say, laughing nervously as you gesture vaguely towards his figure. You haven't thought about him in that way before—or maybe you haven't let yourself think of him in that way, you realize now—but you can't ignore the sharp lines of his jaw, the clearly defined strength beneath his sweater—Taehyun is beautiful. There could never be any denying it. "You're perfect, Taehyun. You could have anyone you wanted—certainly someone less fucked up than me. Someone you wouldn't have to wait to be with, I—"

But he just shakes his head. "I most certainly am not perfect—but I just want to see you happy," he replies, voice as calm and steady as ever. You wonder if this is how he imagined this conversation going. "Whether that's with me, or someone else, or on your own—that's okay. And I...you know now. I'd like for it to be with me, if that's possible," he adds, laughing a little, "but if it's not, that's okay too. You just deserve to be happy, and I want to see that happen for you." 

You let his words hang in the air between the two of you for a long, long time. The only sound in the entire parking lot is the occasional soft jangling of your keys when a gust of wind passes by. 

He'd wait for you. 

"...I really don't know how long it will be until I can think about this," you say again, breaking the momentary silence. 

But Taehyun just nods, gently squeezing your hand. You'd almost forgotten your fingers were still interlaced with his. "I'm telling you, that's okay. I'll wait as long as you want until you want to talk about this again—and if you don't want it to go any further, it doesn't have to. I just...just wanted you to know how I felt, regardless." 

You nod. Before you can say anything else, though, Taehyun's phone rings from his back pocket, loudly interrupting the two of you in the otherwise empty parking lot. 

He turns slightly to glance down at it, and makes a face when he sees who it's from. "It’s Kai," he says softly. "They must be wondering where I am."

"Go ahead," you say just as quietly, gesturing with your free hand towards his car. "It's okay. I...I need to think, anyway." 

Taehyun keeps his gaze on you for a moment, mind clearly racing through a thousand different responses as he sets his mouth in a worried line—but eventually he nods. "Okay," he says, finally letting go of your hand. "I...I'll see you after break, then."

You nod wordlessly. 

His words still echo in your mind, even as he gets in his car and offers a small wave your way. 

He'd wait for you. It's more than you could ever ask for. At the same time, however, you realize that it's an admission to yourself—admitting that getting over Yeonjun is still going to be a long, difficult path to walk. 

And when you're finally left in the parking lot by yourself, you find that you feel more alone than you have in a long, long time. 

~~~

The winter holidays go by at a snail's pace. All you want to do is sleep off the fresh heartache your conversation with Taehyun has caused and do practically nothing all break—but you find yourself hilariously bored on your fourth day of doing "nothing." 

Your parents are uncharacteristically lenient of your behavior—they used to never let you sleep in this late, especially if you were home from school after not seeing you for so long—but you know they know about you and Yeonjun breaking up. Your mother had been particularly fond of him, too. Maybe that's why she doesn't say a word when you go to bed early every night. 

It's ridiculously hard to keep your mind off of Yeonjun over the holidays—couples are everywhere. Nearly every holiday movie seems to revolve around a romance, not to mention all the ones in real life that you can't stop seeing. Your friends post about spending the week with their partner's families, about seeing the other's hometown for the first time, of a surprise and sudden engagement from one of your cousins and their long-time girlfriend—it's enough to make you sick. You know that's a horrible thing to think at such happy occasions for the people you know, but the thought forms itself anyway. 

Every time you feel like you've taken a step forward towards healing, towards finally, finally getting over him—you see something that sends you reeling back into that heartache and sorrow, sending you ten steps back from where you'd been. It's a vicious cycle, and as much as you beg for it to end—it doesn't. Not yet. 

Because Yeonjun haunts you in your home, too. It's hard to set up decorations with your parents without thinking about how you did this last year with him—how he had held onto your waist as he reached around you into the box of tinsel, how your mother had beamed at him as he'd helped her cook, how angelic he had looked as the two of you walked around your neighborhood looking at the different lights each house had set up. They were such beautiful memories, at the time—had only made you feel more confident and cemented in your relationship with Yeonjun as each one passed. You'd hadn't ever imagined a future without him. And now you can't help but wonder if he had already felt dissatisfied with you in each of those moments. 

But as unrelenting as those memories are, so is the passing of time—because you survive the winter holiday season, somehow, even with your shattered heart. Your plan is to move back into school right after the new year, which is how you end up at home on New Year's Eve. Your parents have already gone to their rooms to sleep by the time eleven o'clock strikes on the clock, and as hard as you try, you can't help but think about the fact that this is your first New Year's Eve in years that you'll be alone for. 

Or so you think, anyway. The instant you see your phone screen display 12:01 A.M., it buzzes. It's a message from Taehyun. 

> happy new year, y/n

The new year. 

Everything has hurt so badly for months—like a wound that refuses to form a scab, because you won't let it. You're the one who won't put the bandage over the cut, who keeps digging the blade into the metaphorical wound that was you and Yeonjun every time you think about him. 

But what's the alternative? Moving on? Accepting that your relationship with Yeonjun is over? That what had been the happiest years of your life up until now are through? It's unthinkable. It's unfair to that version of you who had loved him with all of your heart to just throw them away—to just lock the door and never look back. 

But it's what you have to do, you realize. You won't ever feel any better until you can accept that you and Yeonjun are done, for good—and Taehyun is offering you a way out. This is the ending of what you've known up until now—but a chance to finally, finally start anew. To put the past behind you and try again. 

< happy new year, taehyun.

IV. SPRING.

The spring semester hardly gives you a moment to breathe. 

You vaguely remember signing up for classes right before fall break—but those weeks were such a blur that you neglected to realize this spring would be your first semester in upper division courses. In other words—you're drowning in schoolwork with scarcely an instant to yourself, let alone to sort out your lingering feelings. 

And in the moments that you do have time to breathe, Yeonjun always seems to find a way to sneak to the forefront of your mind. But these recollections aren't always as painful as they were before. In one instance, you feel a wave of relief wash over you—but only for the single instant that it provides you comfort—when you remember turning down Yeonjun's offer to buy each other promise rings before he'd first left for college. 

He'd pointed at them in a jewelry store the two of you had wandered into while walking downtown together. "What do you think?" he'd asked, winking. 

You'd laughed. "Yeah, right. I hear getting engaged right after high school never ends up going badly for anyone." 

But he'd shaken his head immediately. "Not engaged," he'd corrected gently. "They're promise rings. It's a promise to you, from me. And from you to me—that we'll wait for each other, and only each other, until we're both ready. No matter what happens." 

Your heart had fluttered at the sudden declaration, cheeks flushing pink before you could stop them—but you had thought even then that it seemed like an awfully rash thing to commit to for a relationship of barely over a year. "That's...unbelievably romantic, Jjun," you'd admitted. "Even for you. Have you done something?" you'd teased, narrowing your eyes at him. 

He'd gasped, putting his hands above his head in mock surrender. "I most certainly have not. Can't I just be a hopeless romantic every once in a while?" 

You'd pretended to mull it over. "Hmm. Maybe on special occasions. We'll have to see if we can work out a schedule for your hopeless romantic tendencies in the future." 

Yeonjun had then made a show of wiping pretend sweat from his brow. "Thank goodness." 

You'd giggled, despite yourself. "I'm serious, though. It's a beautiful thought, but...do you think it's something we could come back to? At a later time?" 

Ever the gentleman, your Yeonjun had nodded sweetly at you. "Of course," he'd said, taking your hand in his before leading the two of you back out of the store. "We can talk about the future whenever you're ready. I'm just as happy in our present right now, anyway." 

That had certainly changed somewhere along the way, you think bitterly to yourself. But pushing past this memory still feels like a small victory, in a way. You hadn't wasted money on committing to a promise that Yeonjun had broken.

There are countless more memories that resurface in this way—but by the time they pass, you no longer taste that metaphorical blood in your mouth anymore at their recollection, no longer feel your heart yearning for them to stay the way you would have a few months ago. They just pass, and you don't think about them again after they go.

Yeonjun only texts you once. You haven't sent him a single message since his Instagram post before fall break—and of course, you imagine he knows why. You may not have expected him to break up with you when he did, but you did know him ridiculously well at one point, seemingly both inside and out—you know that he knows you well enough, too, to understand why you've suddenly gone radio silent. But he does text you once, right as the first week of your semester finishes.

> hey. is everything okay? do you want to talk? 

Months ago, you think, you would have leapt at the opportunity—jumped through the screen and across space and time, practically, to have a chance to talk to him for an extended period of time, for a possible chance to win him back. Now you just feel embarrassment towards yourself for ever having felt that way. 

You never respond.

Taehyun's presence in your life is different now, too. You still work together, of course, but you have several shared classes again—so you find yourself studying and comparing essays at either his apartment or yours nearly three or four times each week. It's challenging, all of it, but in between, it does make you remember why you became friends with Taehyun in the first place—because he's not like anyone else you've ever known before. Every time you want to throw in the towel on a particularly lengthy assignment, he has some witty comment that gives you just enough energy to keep going. Every time you come by his apartment, the way the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles upon seeing you sends a surge of warmth through you. If you have felt trapped in frigid ice since this breakup, Taehyun has been your sun, ever so gradually melting that ice away whenever you let him. 

And you do let him. One night, you're leaving his apartment after exchanging study guides for one of your midterms. You walk by his side, car keys swinging softly in between your fingers. 

"How are you feeling?" Taehyun asks right before you open your car door. He doesn't elaborate, but you know what he's talking about. 

So you turn to him. "I, um...I don't know if this will get better," you admit quietly. It's a fear you've harbored from the start—that you'll never get over Yeonjun, your first and last—that he will have created your perception of love, molded and shaped it to his design and his alone before shattering it, leaving you to pick up the pieces for the rest of your life. 

But Taehyun lets out a scoff at that. "It will. I promise, Y/N. It does get better." 

You narrow your eyes at him. "How do you know that? Hmm? Are you some secret fortune teller that I don't know about? Is that how you've been able to afford such a nice apartment here?"

He laughs at you. "No. I'm not a fortune teller. But I know this much—it'll get better. I can't tell you when, because I don't know that. It's something you'll have to figure out, I think. But one day, soon, you'll wake up one morning, and it'll hurt less. And then, a little later, it won't hurt at all. It'll feel like it was a bad dream. You'll get involved in other things, other interests, other people, and then you won't think of this when you wake up in the morning at all." 

You nod, slowly. "I want to believe you, Taehyun. I do. I just don't know how long that will take." 

But he just shrugs again. Damn him for being so easygoing. "That's okay. You know where I'll be, regardless."

You do know where he'll be—right by your side, just like he's been for the last six months. In truth, you had expected him to fall back on his promise to wait—you would have been sad, sure, but you wouldn't have blamed him. Putting up with you moving on from a relationship over the course of half a year, now, can't have been an easy task. But you've never heard a word of complaint from him. He isn't that kind of person—you know this now. He really will stick by you for as long as you'll allow him to—a kind of affection you haven't felt from anyone in a long, long time. 

But right beside you isn't the only place Taehyun seems to be. Your subconscious seems to have taken a liking to him, too—because that night, you see him in your dreams. You'd tossed and turned earlier, unable to fall asleep, throwing the sheets off the bed before you curl up into a ball and squeeze your eyes shut. When you finally find yourself lured back into sleep, you find Taehyun—strong and sweet and caring and beautiful Taehyun. He wraps his arms around you in the dream, hands grabbing hold of your waist before he presses his lips to yours in a heated kiss—as if he never wants to let you go. As if there isn't anyone else in the world that matters except for the two of you. 

You wake up in the morning and weep. 

Later in the day, you find tears brimming at the corners of your eyes again when you finally find the courage to delete the photo album on your phone of you and Yeonjun—but they never fall past your lashes, even when you hit the red delete button. 

Perhaps you've run out of tears for him, because none fall when you package away everything else of his in your apartment—every framed photo of the two of you, every stuffed animal he'd bought, every hoodie of his you'd once promised to give back all fit neatly in a single cardboard box, sealed and never to be seen again. 

Without the remnants of Yeonjun scattered throughout your apartment, you find yourself thinking of him less with each day that passes. The ghost who had once haunted every fiber of your being now seems like little more than a bad dream you've suddenly woken up from. This realization hurts you, just like the ones before it—but the hurt doesn't linger. It, too, grows faint before long, dissipated and fading away just like the rest of your relationship. 

The end of the semester doesn't sneak up on you this spring. You have a lengthy presentation for your hardest class, an argumentative speech that you've practically spent all semester preparing for. You and Taehyun practice for each other for weeks beforehand, critiquing and encouraging and teasing each other the whole way through—but it's still over before you know it. 

The morning after your final presentation, you don't wake up until the sun has risen high in the sky, peeking through the blinds over your window and finally raising you from sleep. You stretch as you walk over to the window, opening the blinds and peering out into the street below you. There's a couple walking on the sidewalk—and you recognize the girl as a regular from the library, the one with strawberry-colored hair whom Kai had been practically obsessed with back in the fall. 

She tugs at the sleeve of the man walking beside her, pulling him into a sudden kiss, and you instantly turn away from the window, giving them a moment of privacy despite their actions being in public anyway. 

Well—she obviously hadn't known about Kai's existence, but she'd still clearly been able to find some kind of happiness. The thought soothes you, in a way, and you think about how the scene below you would have made you feel six months ago. You would've been jealous, probably, and upset that you'd never experience anything like that again—but now the only thing it fills you with is longing. It makes you happy to see others experience something that you know feels like a gift. You want to experience that again too, you realize. 

The instant that thought forms in your head, another memory materializes. 

That's okay. You know where I'll be, regardless. 

You feel your heart soar at the recollection. 

Yes, Taehyun. I do.

V. SUMMER. 

Taehyun texts you the very first day summer break begins. 

> how'd your last final go? 

> omg i meant to tell you after work yesterday but kai's parents said he could stay in the beach house this weekend 

> like a very early birthday thing i think lol. it'll be a few ppl but you're more than welcome to come tomorrow if you haven't gone back home yet 

The invite sends a flurry of both excitement and nervousness through you. You haven't gone back home yet—your parents aren't coming until early next week to help you move out for the summer, not to mention the fact that you haven't see Taehyun or any of your other coworkers since the end of finals week. Excited doesn't even begin to cover it, you think. 

< i'll be there! 

Kai, thankfully, is a relatively easy person to shop for—you have no trouble at all picking up a wristwatch you remember him talking about a few times at work. And in truth, his birthday isn't for another two months, but you imagine he needed some excuse to convince his parents to let him throw an end-of-the-school-year party—so you don't mind the expense at all.

Kai is overjoyed to see you when you arrive at the beach house, thanks to Taehyun sending you the address, and even more so when he sees the gift bag in your hands. 

"You did not have to get me anything!" he exclaims, pouting, but you still see that glint of anticipation in his eyes despite his words. 

You beam at him, throwing your arms around him in a quick hug. You've missed this—being with your friends and not feeling like you were putting them through hell with you. Seeing them happy with you feels right in a way that nothing else has in months. "Happy birthday, Kai," you say, pulling back so he can tear into his present (which he does almost immediately). 

Taehyun is waving at you from the shallow end of the pool. "Did you bring a swimsuit?" you hear him call over Kai's shouts of excitement. 

You nod, biting back a grin as you pull your shirt over your head and tug your shorts off as quickly as possible, revealing the bathing suit that you'd worn on your way over underneath. You immediately run to jump in the deep end, splashing both Taehyun and Beomgyu, if the yells and laughs you hear when you resurface are any indicator. 

Beomgyu makes some excuse about needing to find the birthday cake, hauling himself up and out from the side of the pool when you start to swim over towards Taehyun.  

He doesn't budge, grinning at you as you make your way towards the shallow end. "Nice of you to make an appearance," he says, winking. 

"Well, I had to let you know I was here somehow, you know," you reply instantly, grinning right back. 

Taehyun's smirk widens. "Of course. And I'm glad you're here, Y/N. How'd you end up doing for your finals?" 

You shrug. "A’s and B’s. I'm still pretty satisfied with how that presentation for Dr. Lee went, though—how about you?" 

He pushes your shoulder playfully. "Look at you! I told you you'd kill that speech. I knew you could do it." 

You feel the ghost of his hand on your skin even after it's gone, shivers rippling down your spine at the thought—and that does it. You can't keep up the small talk any longer. "I have something for you," you announce, as stone-faced as you can manage. "Close your eyes." 

Something flickers in his eyes—surprise? delight, even?—but it's gone just as soon as you notice it. "For me?" He laughs. "But it's Kai's birthday party." 

You nod. "I know," you say. "I already gave him his present. You get one too." 

Taehyun's eyes narrow. "Am I getting the same thing as Kai?" 

You can't bite back the grin that tugs at your lips. "Not even close." 

He seems satisfied with that, finally, so he closes his eyes. You know you'll only get one chance to do this, to do it right with the element of surprise—so you lean in as quickly as you can, before the logical side of your brain can catch up with the rest of you, and press your lips to the side of his cheek. 

Taehyun looks at you, eyes wide open with surprise, until—"You missed." 

You frown. "I what?" 

He nods, as if that should have been obvious. "Mmm-hmm. You missed." There's only a split second for you to realize what he means before he's taken hold of your chin with two of his fingers and brought your lips to his. He's kissing you. 

Taehyun is kissing you. 

There are no fireworks or cannons shooting above your head, no angel floating down from the heavens to confirm that this moment has been the peak of your entire life—but kissing Taehyun is soft. Gentle. It's all the comfort he always makes you feel, has always made you feel—nothing feels more right than being pressed up against him here, with one hand cradling your chin and one settled securely on your hip as his lips move against yours.  

There still aren't fireworks or cannons shooting off behind you—but what you do hear are loud whoops and cheers from your coworkers (and maybe a few fake retching noises). Taehyun pulls back a little once he hears those, dark eyes scanning your face for any signs of discomfort—but there are none. Instead, you laugh, and Taehyun does too, breath skating across your jaw as you feel more right than you have in an achingly long time. When he presses his lips to yours again, still smiling against the kiss, you feel that sensation of right, of warmth, of comfort practically coursing through your veins as you slide your arms around his neck. This, right here, is where you're supposed to be. 

“You waited,” you manage to breathe out in between kisses, holding tighter to Taehyun’s shoulders above the water to steady yourself.

He smiles at you, beaming brighter and warmer than the summer sun above the two of you. “Yes, Y/N,” he whispers softly, moving his hand to cup your cheek in his palm. “And I’d do it again if it meant we would still end up right here.”

It's not the closing of one chapter and the beginning of another—life is hardly ever that smooth. It just is. 

You don't know the kind of partner Taehyun is yet. You don't know that he'll almost always keep a hand on your thigh when you sit together, that he'll write a list in the notes app of his phone of your orders at each of your favorite restaurants, that he'll love to take candid photos of you to show you later, that one day the two of you will be in a very similar position to the way you are now while a small black box holds a hefty weight in his back pocket—but you don't have to know any of that yet. 

You're here with Taehyun, now, your arms around him as his wrap around you, and that's what matters. The rest you can figure out together.

taglist: @petrichor-han @kangroo-chan @ot7lonelylover @lilacdreams-00 @mainexiii @awkwardnesshabitat @lotus-dly @elizabeth11moreno @nerdysl-t @seung-scrittore

©️ noramoons 2021-2022. do not translate or reupload my writing.

[halfratsalready]

The Unhinged Jack x Wanderlust Conspiracy Board Explained

A few days ago I posted this silly conspiracy board I made for a slideshow night with my friends where I talked about how Ubisoft loves to deny Jack x Wanderlust and everyone seemed to like it so here’s an in-depth (and I mean in-depth) explanation of everything on it.

We start, of course, with Si’ha Nova and the Traveler, and Wanderlust wearing his dad’s cape at the beginning of Canned Heat because it’s super cute.

And you can’t talk about this ship without the moment from Majesty that perfectly mirrors the moment from Save Your Tears because genuinely why would they do this if they didn’t want people to ship these two? (Rainbow flag added for ✨flavor✨)

I also thought it was worth mentioning that the only time we ever actually hear any of these characters speak across all 14 lore playlist maps is literally Wanderlust calling out Jack’s name.

And now it’s time for the part that I like to call Ubisoft’s crusade against a monster of their own creation (because look at those last two points and tell me they didn’t do this to themselves. You can’t.)

Now in making this I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Ubisoft isn’t being as harsh on the ship as we’ve been thinking, because “they’re such good friends” and “best friends” with a thumbs up automatically reads as very sarcastic and joking to me, like all the memes about “historians will say they were close friends.”

Then there’s the infamous in’s and out’s New Years post, but what I hadn’t picked up on until I saw this screenshot from Twitter is that the inclusion of “normalize being evil” on the in’s list is rather suspicious and that, according to Just Dance, “this was posted by Night Swan’s army.” So I feel like that’s worth mentioning, because it casts a different light on all the other things on the lists. As in including Jack Rose in the in’s list since he’s the only one she didn’t corrupt yet and she wants to do that this year? And putting stanning Jacklust on the out’s because she’s evil and doesn’t want us to have nice things? Not too sure but hey, if someone better at analyzing things wants to look into that, I’d be down to read it.

(I also think it’s worth mentioning that “worrying about getting a Megastar” is included in the out’s list when the tweet just before that one is encouraging players to get Megastar on Zero to Hero, so some more contradictions there, but that might not mean anything, given that Night Swan’s whole thing is perfection and I feel like she would definitely be in favor of worrying over getting Megastar.)

Plus there’s the pretty popular belief that they’re just pointing out how stupid of a ship name Jacklust is, but I’m personally not at all sold on this being the reason, even if Jacklust is a stupid ship name. (I told my friends the ship name during this presentation and one of them said “Really? Wanderrose was right there.”)

Lastly, I threw Night Swan in there because of the theory that Ubisoft is denying Jack x Wanderlust because the Traveler is Jack’s father. Now, I have opinions about this theory and I hope it’s not true for obvious reasons, but I feel like if it is, it’s a serious oversight on Ubisoft’s part.

Firstly, if they’re half siblings why did they recreate the move from Save Your Tears in Majesty? Seems odd to have half siblings recreate a pretty iconic romantic duet moment.

There’s also the fact that we can clearly see that Wanderlust takes physical traits from each of his parents - his mother’s blue skin and his father’s dark hair. If the Traveler is Jack’s dad, why don’t they share any physical characteristics? At the very end of the beta for Sweet Dreams (spoiler?) we see Night Swan with green eyes, unlike the yellow eyes she has in the rest of the dances we see her in. (While this could just be an older design choice, I personally interpreted this as meaning that her eyes were green before she went evil and then they turned yellow.) In all of his character artwork, Jack’s eyes are green, which I take as meaning that this is a trait he got from his mother. So I personally feel like it only makes sense for his father to have red hair (and we’ve got plenty of options to pick from with that criteria).

But hey, that’s just a theory… I don’t need to finish that part, you’re already thinking it. Thanks for reading my insane ramblings!

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Valentine's Surprise | Jung Wooyoung

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Fem!Reader

Request: No.

Synopsis: Wooyoung surprises his girlfriend for Valentine's Day, which also just so happens to be their anniversary.

Warnings: None. This is probably terrible. This is a repost from my now deactivated blog. More of an explanation in my pinned post.

Word Count: 783

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“Why don’t you join us?” Y/N’s best friend offers, not wanting to see her alone for her first valentine’s day with her boyfriend, who is out of the country, until tomorrow.  

“I don’t want to intrude on your plans,” Y/N politely declines her friends offer. She'd been third-wheeling her and her boyfriend quite a bit since Wooyoung went on tour. “I’ll be fine. I’ve got ice cream and plenty of ATEEZ content to binge, so It’ll be like Woo is here. He did message me earlier saying he’s going to call me again soon.” 

“If you change your mind, call me.” 

“Enjoy your night,” she tells her friend and ends the call before she can say anything more.  

Pulling up YouTube on her tv, she finds the WANTEEZ playlist that’s saved to her favourite and presses play.  

Y/N and Wooyoung had met three years. A mutual friend of theirs was hosting a gathering. Wooyoung being the social butterfly that he is, introduced himself first. By the end of the night, after he’d walked her home, they swapped numbers and made plans to go out for dinner the following night. Their relationship has been going strong and steady (with a few minor hiccups) since then. 

Three episodes in, her phone starts ringing. She checks it, sees that it’s Wooyoung and pauses the video before answering her phone. 

“Hi baby, how’s your night going?” she asks him. 

“Can you open the door?” he asks, greeting her, sounding out of breath and as if he’s wrestling with something. 

“What door?” she asks, confused and wondering if he’s hidden something in one of the bedrooms or somewhere else. It doesn’t explain the breathlessness though. “Did you run somewhere? Are you okay?” she asks sounding concerned. 

“The apartment door,” he tells her, confusing her even more. “Your anniversary and Valentine’s Day gift has arrived.” 

Standing up from where she’s sitting, she makes her way to the apartment door, looks through the peep hole and finds someone standing there, holding a bouquet of her favourite flowers and a giant stuffed black cat that’s almost as big as the person and hiding who the person is. Unlocking and opening the door, with the phone still to her ear, “What are-” 

She’s cut off when the person moves the stuffed animal away from him, revealing it’s none other than Wooyoung. “Happy anniversary, Jagiya! Oh and Happy Valentine’s Day too!”  

He moves them into her apartment, closing the door behind him and hands her the flowers and leans in to give her a kiss, bringing you out of your stunned state. 

“How did you... I thought you were coming home tomorrow night?” She says, still a little surprised to see him.  

“I talked the managers into letting me fly home early,” he says smiling widely. “Did I surprise you?”  

Y/N nods her head, causing his smile to widen as he leans in for another kiss. He lets go of the giant black cat to wraps his arms around her waist and bring her closer. She quickly wraps her arms around him, returning the kiss with equal passion. The surprise and thoughtfulness of his gesture leaves her feeling like the luckiest woman in the world.  

As they part, she looks into his beautiful deep brown eyes, "I can't believe you did this for me," she whispers, her voice filled with love. 

Last year he paid for her to be flown to Japan where they had a few shows and schedules, knowing he wouldn’t be home. She was grateful that she had a few days off at the time. This time she didn’t get any time off and Wooyoung was due home the day after, so they planned something for then. 

Wooyoung smiles, his eyes sparkling with love and adoration for his woman. "We’ve been together three years. This is our fourth Valentine’s together. We haven’t spent an anniversary or Valentine’s Day alone since we met. I wasn’t going to let you be alone this time."  

Last year he paid for her to be flown to Japan where they had a few shows and schedules, knowing he wouldn’t be home. She was grateful that she had a few days off at the time. This time she didn’t get any time off and Wooyoung was due home the day after, so they planned something for then. 

"I don't know what I did to deserve you," she says, her voice filled with sincerity.  

Wooyoung brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle and comforting. "I ask myself that every day."  

After placing the flowers on the counter, Y/N pulls him in for another kiss.

Likes, Comments & Reblogs are welcomed and appreciated. 

TAGGED: @staytiny2000 - @dancelikebutterflywings - @kpopmenace143

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[setsugekka]

『paradise lost』 ; 01

❝ do you ever wonder? ❞

↳  finding out about one of your friends spending a night with your best friend changes the trajectory of the way you view him...forever and for always.

⎯ ୨series mlist୧ ⎯ ○ ⎯ ୨next୧ ⎯

『 pairing 』 : kim hongjoong x fem!reader

『 genre 』 : friends to lovers, romance, explicit sexual content.

『 rating 』 : mature

『 word count 』 : 10k

『 warnings 』 : drinking, smoking, sexually explicit content: unprotected penetrative sex, oral sex (f rec), (nice) dirty talking, light possession play, light humiliation play.

“Have you ever done it?”

“No, of course not.”

“Have you ever thought about it?”

“Definitely not.”

An admission of complete truth: you hadn't.

That was, of course, until you had.

It had been four years since that gloomy Thursday evening — rain drizzling and water pooling on the sidewalks from the numerous days prior that the weather had also made itself to be less than pleasantly known; you had made the mistake of putting off shopping for sewing materials for too long, materials you now needed and had no choice but to brave the elements to acquire.

Atypical of you for sure, calling a cab to haul yourself around town, but with the weather in such disarray, it was a last ditch effort, and in a hurry you remember the sequence of events as if they had transpired just yesterday. He also doesn't often let you forget: the grabbing of your bag from the seat next to you in the back of the car, and the harsh swing of the car door — not another thought present to you besides the acquisition of your items and the hastiest way in which you could find your way back home.

That swing of the car door. Only seconds later followed by a shrill “oh shit” and a loud thud accompanying, with enough force to slam the door right back shut in your face.

“I still kind of feel like you did it on purpose, how did you not see me?”

“I didn't look! I was just trying to get in and out, I didn't think about it!”

Your best friend raises his eyebrows, rim of his glass pressed to his lips with a hum and the sound reverberating inside of the emptiness where no more drink resides. His response is almost silent, but it speaks the same words he always does when the topic is revisited.

That he doesn't believe you. That he one hundred percent believes you meant to annihilate him with a taxi car door in the pouring rain.

Kim Hongjoong. Art student when the two of you met, now turned art guy. Relatively accomplished by his own right, nothing fancy but enough to get by and comfortably at that. The kind of bizarre stereotype of an alternative guy who has Michael Jackson and My Chemical Romance on the same playlist and buys five hundred dollar Jordans second-hand even in spite of the markup in price just because he wants to reform them himself. A little eccentric, no stranger to the occasional binger, but he was kind. Thoughtful and available in ways that you, over the years, often found surprising. Through tough break-ups and family disasters, Hongjoong was somehow always available. On the night that your boyfriend of two years broke up with you — and even though he had only just moved into his loft apartment; with only his bed and some loose couch cushions for furniture, before you knew it you were waking up alone among the comfort of his pillows and blankets, only to gaze down at the man — curled up onto the cushions like a cat in the living room area, as if it not his first time in such a scenario.

He was your best friend. You don't recall the conversation happening, though. No large, fanciful declaration of fondness from either of you but the nights together at his place grew longer and with less time in between them. When he needed help painting the walls or shopping for interior, he called you. 

And when he finally announced his place having been “finished,” it was you that he called over for a movie and drinks. Just you.

One thing you had gathered over the years, was that Kim Hongjoong didn't date. Perhaps not in the traditional sense. Maybe he saw people, but he didn't have a partner — not that you could ever tell. In all of the years the two of you had been together, through all of the partners of yours that you had introduced him to, the opposite had never occurred. Hongjoong's private life was simply never a topic that had ever come up — because he never brought it up.

Pulling your attention back to the present — watching the man in front of you with dark turquoise blue hair, crimped, curly and messy in his face order another drink, the memories pull a smile across your lips, catching him off guard as the waitress waltzes away to retrieve the next round.

“What?” he asks, cautiously inquisitive, as if worried he's done something wrong.

“Nothing,” you answer casually, “just thinking about all the years we've been friends.”

Raising an eyebrow again, curious as always, Hongjoong leans forward across the small wooden table of the bar that the two of you currently reside in and smirks. “What about them?”

The waitress comes back faster than expected, and Hongjoong pulls himself back upright to thank her before settling back into his somewhat domineering position. Expectant. As if the conversation has now taken some sort of quiet turn into a power struggle, of sorts.

It hasn't, and you know that. He just naturally carries this sort of essence. Unmanageable confidence and conviction. Sometimes, you think that you've never known anyone who knew themselves as well as he did.

And truthfully, you loved watching it. As if being around him rubbed off on you in some magical, intangible way.

“I don't know,” you start, taking a sip from your new glass. “That I'm glad, I guess.”

“Me too.” he quickly chirps in response, and somehow, the unrelated reply jogs your memory about another topic you had meant to inquire about.

“Oh! While we're here, are you going to be able to come with me to do fabric shopping tonight? I know we never made concrete plans but...since we're here.”

You watch Hongjoong shake his head gently in response, swallowing the brown liquid quickly in an effort to explain as soon as possible. “Can't, got plans tonight, actually should head out soon.” he adds, illuminating the screen on his phone to check the time.

“Damn,” you sigh, checking your own phone as well. “Alright, well let's get you out of here then, Mister.”

It's playful, and Hongjoong rolls his eyes in response as he grabs his things and stands up from the table. The both of you pay on your way out of the bar and upon exiting, still in front of the large doors of the establishment. A trendy, sort of dusty place that Hongjoong likes — out of the way for you, but you're happy to oblige his peculiar tastes.

“What are you up to, anyways?” you ask, innocently enough, but your interest becomes all the more piqued when he elects not to indulge you with the details of his evening.

“Just got some stuff goin' on,” he says, tossing his bag onto his shoulder and giving a half grin, “I'll text you later?”

It wasn't particularly unlike Hongjoong to leave out information, in fact, it may have been less like him to indulge you with all of the details — but something about that instance, you found bouncing around in your mind for the rest of the evening.

Grabbing your fabrics from the store and heading back to your apartment, your best friend and whatever happenings he has going on for him are quickly dismissed from your mind as your girl friends all begin staggering in for the evening. Wine, music and chatting — it has been quite a bit since all of you able to get together for a night in, and after finding a nice corner for you to not so beautifully shove all of your sewing projects in, the lot of you all clinked your glasses and got the night underway.

“So, anything new going on? Any new interests?” one friend asks, and she always was the nosiest one.

“No, no, nothing like that,” you respond, hand gently waving in the air as if to dismiss the words physically. “If it were anything like that, you guys wouldn't be here right now.”

Laughter erupting in the joint dining and living area of your condo, the same friend then leans in towards you — nearly empty glass in hand and quite evidently feeling the effects of such, she smiles a wickedly coy turn of the lip before speaking quietly. “How's your friend?”

Not the first time he's been made the topic of discussion, and certainly wouldn't be the last. You roll your eyes with the insistence of again? but play along all the same. “He's fine.”

“Oh, you're asking the wrong girl!”

It's a comment from across the room, and pulls both of your attention to it immediately. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, you almost can't even comprehend the turn which the conversation has taken. 

That is, until you see the bright red ears of the friend sitting next to her loud-mouth roommate, and slowly but surely, the pieces start coming together. You can't even help the genuine, audible, shock-response. The gasp and widened eyes, hand pulled up and over your gaping mouth.

“You what?” and before she even has a chance to consider answering, you double down again, “Him? You? Wow.”

Humiliated in jest and with a face now hidden away behind hands, your mouth still lies open with surprise. It isn't the fact that they did, but more so the confirmation that he even really sees anyone at all. Someone that stands such a low profile romantically, socially, sexually — you were sort of anticipating never seeing the day where you were to be faced with the knowledge of the fact that Hongjoong might actually be a sexual being.

Not really information you needed or even really cared about, but intriguing nonetheless; if for no reason other than you being nosy.

“Imagine my surprise when I had to pick her up from the same place I've picked you up from like fifteen times.”

Now you're really gobsmacked.

“Wait, tonight!?” you certainly can't hide your shock now, “You were with him tonight!?”

Bashful-friend falls backwards onto the couch in an attempt to escape the cascade of humiliation befalling her, but to no avail. “I was out with Hongjoong tonight, he told me he had something to do but I didn't think he meant one of my friends!”

“Oh — are you jealous?” another friend pipes up, but you're more than willing to shoot the thought down with confidence. “No, I'm just — surprised he wouldn't tell me, I suppose.”

The room falls silent for a moment, originally-nosy-friend snorts at the turn of events and begins pouring you and herself another glass of wine but the friend insistent on causing problems on purpose that night has other plans on the agenda: cause more problems, of course.

If you were able to go back in time, stop yourself from hearing certain things, or seeing certain things; keep parts of your consciousness locked behind doors that you never were aware of — looking back, you think that you might. Looking back, you remember how quickly it all happened, and how doomed you were from the word 'go.'

How, sincerely, you didn't stand a chance.

It only takes a moment, after all. One piece of information that works its way into your mind, forever changing the way you think of someone, or something. The way you view art, or a film, or hear music.

Or see someone.

“So then,” the friend begins, leaning down towards the girl attempting to melt into your couch. “How was it? How is he?”

“Oh man, come on,” you groan, not interested in hearing the intimate details past this point. Sure, you had been curious about his goings on, but you've learned quite enough now.

“Let her speak,” the friend says, reaching down and shaking the girl with the red ears, hands still completely covering her face — but once the room stills and silence takes it once again, she breaths deeply, slowly exposing her reddened face and staring at the ceiling, she speaks.

“Fucking incredible.”

Whoa, you didn't expect that. 

“The best I've ever been with, like —“ and pausing, she leans up to make eye contact with you, your own features heating at the words already spoken, “Sorry, you probably don't want to hear about this—“

You urge her on, insist that it's not a big deal. It really isn't.

You think.

“So attentive and intimate and just—“ and she pauses again, as if taking a moment to relive the experience in her mind before carrying on to expose more of the details of her love life with your best friend. “I can't explain it, sex with him was like...on another level, like nothing I've ever experienced.”

Hongjoong? Your best friend, Hongjoong? That guy?

And nosy-friend pipes up again, gleaming with excitement at the dirty narration of events. “So are you guys like...a thing? Seeing each other?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” she answers quickly, and you feel a sense of relief wash over you that you neither understand nor are proud of. “Was just a one time thing — I mean, I would, but he was pretty clear about what he wants so that's fine.”

Clear about what he wants? One time, no strings attached sex? 

You're not proud of the fact that this information remains to be the only thing on your mind for the rest of the night. Through more glasses of wine, more stories, more dancing — through it all, it's the same thought, the same visage in your thoughts.

Your best friend, Kim Hongjoong.

Being honest with yourself all throughout your life is something that you've found to be very important.

It's taken years to get to a place where you could. Where you could just sit down with yourself and be clear and concise about your feelings, your desires, your thoughts — but you had reached that place. Somewhere in adulthood, you managed it — it isn't perfect, but functional enough.

Albeit, sometimes the things you have had to make peace with haven't been your favorite. This was one of those things.

Three days since the night you had the ladies over, Hongjoong had texted you that evening just as he said he would, and you opted out of responding. Not necessarily unusual, but the two of you remained in frequent enough contact that you knew the ongoing silence was going to start to ring some alarm bells.

But you simply don't know how to deal with it. Deal with it. Thinking it even to just yourself pained you, and you really wondered how you allowed things to spiral out of control to this point. Maybe you should just fuck someone. Not him, but someone else.

Because, well, you wanted to fuck him. 

But you haven't seen him since before you found this information out, and perhaps it was simply a false alarm. Having the knowledge of your best friend being some sort of sex god is not so easy to swallow, as it seems, especially when you tend to be living entirely unfucked, currently.

It really has been all you have thought about since that night, though. Unending visuals of him and you in scenarios and positions you had never even considered for a moment prior. Sure, you had always thought Hongjoong was attractive — obviously he was — but your friendship together has simply never taken that turn, not even for a moment. Not on his end, and certainly not on yours. You've agonized for days since then, trying to remember a moment in time where maybe, just maybe, Hongjoong had tried to put the moves on you. Tried to make something happen, and you failed to find with each and every passing thought.

It seemed as though, in all four years of your friendship, Hongjoong truly did only ever view you as a friend.

Mindlessly thumbing through pages of a fabric book, zoned out and once again lost in the same thoughts you had been for days since, it's the vibration of a notification received on your phone that jolts you back to reality — and not thankfully so, because you don't have to check to know who it's from.

>Hongjoong: what the fuck dude lol

you: oh hey

>Hongjoong: don't oh hey me you've been ignoring me for days???

you: i've just been busy omg you're so needy??

>Hongjoong: you're such a dick lmao whatever do you wanna go to the bar tonight?

The question makes your skin crawl in a way that it typically wouldn't. An otherwise normal, casual, everyday sort of inquiry, now adorned with shiny new appeal that only you — the receiver — are privy to. A few minutes pass as you get lost in your thoughts before your phone vibrates again.

>Hongjoong: wow are you really ghosting me again already

you: sorry I got caught up in this fabric book yeah let’s go, what time?

>Hongjoong: uhh it's like 5 now so idk, 7?

you: yeah that's good i'll see you there

>Hongjoong: cool will you stop being so fuckin weird then?

you: buy me a drink and I will consider it hehe

Hongjoong opts not to respond again — not unusual of his texting habits as the time and date has already been set, but the open-endedness of the night leaves you writhing in anticipation. Could it happen? Do you even want it to happen? In all likelihood, the actual doing of banging your best friend tends to change the relationship forever, and you aren't entirely sure if that is something you are willing to commit to.

Yes, you wanted him. Yes, you are curious, but are you willing to throw it all away to sate those desires? You really can't say.

Having already been out and with things to do upon plans being made, regrettably, you aren't sitting at what you felt to be your highest rate of sex appeal. You look fine, sure — hell, even good, but if you're going to try to make a move, you'd have liked to have time to make a bit more of an effort.

Standing outside the front doors of the bar, you're not waiting long before the familiar silhouette of your short-statured friend strolls up, cigarette in one hand and a bottle of half-empty beer in another. Torn up gray wash jeans and a simple white tank under a black blazer — colorful paint splotches adorning it, it's easy to tell where he has just come from.

“Busy night?” you playfully jab, grabbing towards the bottle in his hand as he pulls it away from you.

“Uh-uh, you're not a very nice friend! Leaving me on read for days at a time!” he quips back, black painted fingernails and cigarette daintily hanging between two of them as he points towards you with squinted eyes, as if examining you.

And you are so gleefully comforted by his inability to read inside of your head at this moment, because you can't help but think how sexy he looks, and how doomed you truly are from here on out.

But really — and you know this as well — nothing has changed. Hongjoong has shown up to your meetings like this time and time again, already with a buzz and reeking of smoke and paint thinner — this is nothing more or less than the guy you're friends with, and always have been. The only thing that has changed, is you. 

“I told you I was busy,” you respond as Hongjoong pushes you inside of the building, ordering drinks with a quick wave of his hand to a regular bartender who knows him and setting the both of you down at a table in the corner. You can't help yourself now — watching his every move more intently than you ever have before: blowing blue curls out of his eyes before placing another cigarette between his lips and bringing his hands up and around to light it, you look at his hands, small but pretty — well kept because he frequently goes for manicures, which then only brings your attention to the length at which he keeps his fingernails...for very specific purposes, and you can feel the flush of heat pooling in your ears again already before the bartender interrupts to bring the drinks — that, which you are thankful for.

“Right so,” he begins, taking a sip of his cocktail and leaning forward over the table towards you, “what's been going on with you?”

You know what he means, but you seek a way out of acknowledging it.

Taking a sip of your own drink, you simply shrug and smile. “I told you, just busy!”

Hongjoong hums at the response, taking a swig of his own drink followed by a puff of his cigarette, but never for a moment breaking eye contact with you as he glares you down. His stare feels intense — almost stifling, inescapable in so many ways — though you find you may not want to escape, either. A natural domineering aura to him that while always there, only now lights something deep within you. A newly unlocked side of you that you wish for him to explore.

“You're lying,” he says with totality, squinting briefly again but leaning back in his chair, still watching you intently. You don't show weakness, and carry on with the contest. “Why didn't you text me back that night?”

“I was busy, girls were over.”

By now, you figure he's aware that you are aware, and now it's just a question of how the two of you are to navigate the waters of arriving at the point, and then out of the jungle that is the awkwardness of having such information.

It's not awkward for you, you want what she had, but navigating that is a whole other forest in and of itself, and it would have to wait until you've made it out of the weeds of this one.

You watch a grin take Hongjoong's features, his eyes finally shifting away and him huffing through his nose. You watch him take the side of his bottom lip between his teeth — just briefly, before sighing and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Aha, so you know. She told you.”

Part of you wants to deflect, play the game, pretend you don't know what he's referring to, but the longer it drags out the further you get from your goal, and at this point just being in his presence this long, you find, is having an unbelievably adverse affect on your ability to maintain a cool, calm, and collected stance.

He's just a friend; something you have to constantly remind yourself through the visual of him bending you over the bathroom sink in the back of the bar.

Face contorting into what appears to be a wince, Hongjoong brings his cigarette-free hand up to run it through his hair before rolling his eyes and taking another drag. 

You're surprised by how genuinely disgruntled he finds this information.

“Guess I kinda knew she would, I mean, I was hoping for the best but—“ he says, stamping the white stick between his fingers out into the ashtray and taking another sip of his drink. “This is why I don't fuck friends of friends.” he finishes the thought, tipping his glass towards you as if signaling some sort of lazy toast to loose-lipped acquaintances. 

If you're honest, you find it awkward. Taken aback by how stiff the atmosphere has become with the knowledge bestowed upon him, you find yourself unsure of what to say. You don't want to downplay his legitimate feelings of discomfort at the disclosure of his sex life, but at the same time...it's you. His best friend.

“Well,” he begins again, and you're thankful for the break in silence on his end.

“What did she say?”

Nevermind, not thankful.

And of course, you don't want to lie. She said you were abysmal, that sucks, because he probably knows otherwise anyway, but telling him the glowing review might make the journey for yourself just that much trickier. What if they continue on together?

“She said—“

“Actually, nevermind, I don't want to know.”

“You sure?” Surprised, you almost beg to grant him information you weren't thrilled about him knowing to begin with.

Hongjoong snorts, drinking the rest of the liquid from his glass down and setting the empty thing on the table in front of him, pulling forward with elbows firmly planted and leaning towards you again. “No—“ he sing-songs in response, “you'd probably be mad at me if she said I was selfish or bad, which I know I'm neither, but you're nosy and annoying so I'm sure you'd be upset with me for something already.”

“I'm annoying? Says the guy running through my friend group.”

“Hey! That's not fair! It was one person, we hit it off back at that party in October. It's not a big deal.”

Smiling, you wave down the bartender to order another drink before Hongjoong stops you suddenly. “Hey, would you be okay with taking this party back to my place? I kinda have some shit I wanna work on.”

Not an unusual request, again, for your friendship. The anticipation pools in your gut all the same, however. You agree.

Hongjoong's loft is always precisely what you would expect it to be.

What that means, in totality, is that it perfectly exemplifies the man himself: right down to the old, broken down lock that holds the door together while he's gone, one that you've insisted time and time again that he get replaced as it neither holds a lock well or unlocks particularly well either, but he stands firm that it's a piece of the puzzle. As everything around him is. Every single minute part, however simple or intricate, Hongjoong always has a purpose or a vision. It's far from the first time you've entered his place, but this time it feels different. You know that it's the anticipation you're placing on a series of events that only stand out to you. Gazing at the piano-painted walls — alternating; one black, then one white, then black again, and repeating all of the way around the perimeter — all of the way up to the unfathomably high ceiling, you remember the day that he signed for the place and how cheap he had gotten it due to its horrifically poor condition. One whole year of friendship dedicated to refurbishing his home, and time you find that you would never trade for anything.

Kim Hongjoong's home, that feels distinctly like your second. Your own sweat, blood and tears in every corner and crevice — knowing that he would never have it any other way.

“The kitchen is kind of a disaster—“ he begins, and you cut him off before he has a chance to explain. 

"What are you doing to it now? The kitchen was the only nice thing about this place when you bought it.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, stepping through some cardboard box towers of who knows what on his way towards the dining room space. “I think that's why I kind of hate it, though.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Dunno, I'll figure it out.”

You're unsurprised when the two of you make it to the arched opening to find that the majority of the nice marble and tiling — the only thing that had made the apartment worth anything at all to begin with when purchased, has already been torn apart by the man with the blue hair standing just in front of you.

“So you tore it up before you had a plan on what you wanted to do with it.” Not a question, a statement.

Hongjoong hesitates before replying, but only for a second. As if hearing it out loud for once has caused him to realize how truly insane it actually sounds. “Yeah, guess so. Drink?”

Nodding, you continue looking around, trying not to step on chunks of marble and stone that lie scattered across the area like a construction site. You figure, if it were anyone else, living in this sort of chaos would make a man go mad — but for Hongjoong, this is where he thrives. His creative process, how he functions and works best, is among the chaos of things and people. A man that grows tired of anything he sees too much of, and quickly, at that. Painting walls and tearing up fixtures and changing his hair color...all just examples of the ways in which Hongjoong thrives in the mayhem of everlasting change.

You come to find eventually that the only constant in Hongjoong's life is you.

And this thought does not weigh on you lightly, the implications slightly dizzying, you try not to think too much of it. That's typical of friendship, which is true. But also—

“Hey, are you okay for real?”

With the sudden inquiry pulling you out of your shaky head space, you have to quickly come back down to earth. “Y-Yeah, why?”

Hongjoong's eyebrows furrow playfully, he looks at you as if you have three heads on your shoulders. “You've been so weird tonight.”

It's true, and you know it. Pressing your back against one of the only intact counter tops next to the fridge where the man shuffles through items, you take a deep breath before continuing on in an effort to save the evening, and your dignity.

“Yeah, just a lot on my mind I guess, busy.”

“Like what?”

Well, he wasn't supposed to ask. 

Now, you are faced with a decision. Shoot your shot and have it pay off, thus getting what you desire and potentially changing your friendship forever, shoot your shot and be denied, with the same potential outcome, or do nothing. Carry on as if you never learned this information, and as if your desire for him never changed.

Easier said than done.

“Umm, I guess—“ you begin, then follow it up with a deep inhale and closing of your eyes. You hear Hongjoong shut the refrigerator door and shift to stand next to you as he sets up beverages of some sort, but you choose to ignore him in an effort to focus on your plan. You're going to do this. You've got to do this.

“—Been thinking about what she said, about you...and her.”

And once the words leave your mouth, what feels like hundreds of other worries quickly replace the ones you've just allowed free. You worry that it's not enough, that you'll have to elaborate. You worry that it is enough, and that he'll find it weird that you're even thinking about it, caught up in it.

It's the huff through his nose that you hear from your right side that lets you know he very much is aware of what you mean. Followed then by a gentle hum, and the man next to you only carries on with the drink making that he had begun.

Slowly prying your eyes open to survey the scene, what you suspected to be the case has been just that: Hongjoong next to you, a delicate curl to the corners of his mouth as he simply continues making the both of you the cocktails that he had originally set out to.

“That's all?” he finally says.

You sort of feel as though you should lie and say 'yes.'

You don't get a chance to, though.

He's fast, his shift in movement from next to you to in front of you, and the first thing you feel is the distinct press of his fingertips against the skin of your exposed thigh — you hadn't worn a skirt for this purpose, as you had already been out anyway when he contacted you, but you now thank 'you' from the past thoroughly. 

The touch is light, delicate. Barely felt as the tips dance across the skin, and slowly crawling up. Your breath hitches in your throat once your brain is finally able to catch up to the situation at hand and you're able to take in the sight before you — Hongjoong wedged between your legs, you sitting partially perched up on and against the counter top before him, and his bottom lip coyly pulled between his teeth as his gaze turns from his hand playing teasing games, to up and at you. 

“Mmm, I get it,” he begins, playful lust gracing his features as he looks at you through hooded eyes. “You want what she had.”

True, but the question makes your insides swim with anticipation, exhilaration. The coming to fruition of precisely what it was that you had come to terms with desiring only days prior, but unsure if you would ever have it. Hongjoong is playful, a tease, even; but you didn't think he would go this far without intent behind his words — actions. Icy to the touch from just having been in the refrigerator, his fingertips continue upwards, leaving a cool trail of where they just seconds prior have been, and you dare not break eye contact with the man to look down at the sight as his hand disappears beneath the hem of your skirt — curling around to the outside of your leg and making faster work of inching up to hook two fingers into the side of hidden away fabric.

“The Kim Hongjoong Experience,” he chuckles out, as if in an attempt to lighten the mood, and it's only after that you realize you've been holding your breath for the duration of his hand's journey up your leg. Maybe for the best. Maybe he really does know what he's doing.

“Yes? No?” he finally asks, because you have yet to answer him, and with the words lodged in your throat along with the furor of the pending encounter, you can only nod quickly in affirmation.

His other hand carefully slides up your opposite leg to match hooked fingers on the alternate side, and with a gentle tug, you know that he's signaling for you to pull off of the counter enough to release the garment from you. Once free, you step out of it and place hands on either side of yourself for leverage against the counter. Unsure, at this point, of what to expect. Hongjoong leans forward and into you, much to your surprise — warm, soft, lips lightly against your own and it takes you a split second to realize before you're melting into the kiss, teeth grazing against bottom lips as his hands slowly place themselves back up your thighs. You can't help but feel exposed, despite not being all that much more than before — the gentle pry of your legs apart by him to accommodate the width of himself between them, and then the light placement of his palm against your core has you keening into his touch already — putty in his hands, just waiting to be molded by him.

An art piece shaped to perfection by Hongjoong, you simply want to be the next.

“Are you okay?” he whispers into your mouth, low and confident but in need of the affirmation to continue all the same. You say that you are — feeling the curl of his lips against your own just before his middle and ring fingers press between your folds with such ease that you feel the rush of heat to your cheeks. “Tell me what feels good, or doesn't.”

You nod again, focus lost on his words and demanded down between your legs — to the way that his middle finger ghosts circles over your clit, then dipping back down to the source of the wetness — deftly pressing in and accommodated with ease, but not rushing all the same. Stilling once knuckle deep, Hongjoong pulls from your lips only an inch or two, and it's as if with anticipation of hearing the whimper that falls from your bitten-red mouth once freed. You watch him as he watches you, smooth, shallow flicks of his wrist into you as to survey your every reaction — the way that he watches you is truly as if he's working, and it's not wrong. He is, in fact, working you. 

“Feels good,” you manage to say, knowing that he needs to hear the words and it takes everything you can muster to get even that much out. “Good,” is all he whispers in reply, before pulling his hand back and resuming the circles against the most sensitive part of you. When you had fantasized about what it would be like, you thought you would handle it better. You expected to have a better grasp, hold out longer, not so easily melt into every touch and word he gives you. A false sense of confidence, because as short as the encounter has been you can already tell that this is Hongjoong's motive; to break you down by hand in such an intense and masterful way that you're already worried you may never get fucked like this again — not by someone else, at least. As the muscles in your legs and abdomen tighten and pull with every slow swivel of his fingers against you, you vaguely recall all of the ways in which the signs were always there that this would be the case. Vastly outclassed by him, even if he were too humble to ever admit it. You find out by accident that this is only another example of it.

“Still good?” he asks, snapping you out of your daze — a daze somewhat induced by the fact that your orgasm is already quickly approaching, and you are trying to buy yourself some time.

“Yeah, I'm close—“

“Really?” he says, eyebrows pulling upward and and surprise lacing his tone, as if it's taken less work than he had anticipated, and you might be more embarrassed if not so hopeful for your impending release. 

“I think we should wait, better if you wait,” he says, slowly pulling his hand from you, the whine escaping you bringing a smile to his face as he instead takes you by the hand. “Geez, not too long. Should move to the bed, I can't work here.”

Work, such a particular and pointed vocabulary, yet exemplifying him to perfection.

Hongjoong leads you upstairs to his bed by the hand, never letting you go for even a second until you lie back against his mattress. You watch him peel his shirt off and you realize that you don't think you've ever seen him this way before then — deceptively toned, nothing excessive and clearly not from working out, but not as thin as previously thought. You watch him pry at his belt, then his pants button, and then discarding them off and to the side before he climbs up the bed and between your legs again to kiss you — this time, with far more intent than previously in the kitchen — as if this truly were where he did his best work.

Pulling off, he whispers for you to sit up, slipping your shirt over your head, then wastes no time with your bra.

“An expert, huh?” you joke at his precision, and he shrugs.

 “I've done it a few times.”

“Get around, huh?” Another playful question — this time met with his groin pressed hard into your own and his mouth hot against your ear. “Maybe, does knowing that make you come?”

Typically, your answer would be “no,” but in that moment, you aren't so sure anymore.

And just as quickly, Hongjoong pulls away from you to shimmy your skirt down your legs, dropping it off the side of the bed and leaving the only clothing left on sight being his boxer briefs. He assumes the position again, hovering over you and nipping kisses along the line of your jaw.

You're still lost in the thought of him asking if something about him makes you come, though. By the second, you lose confidence in the fact that you may make it out of this experience the same woman that you went in as.  

Hongjoong slips down, kissing along the skin of your neck, and meeting with your breast, hand working the opposite in tandem as his tongue swirls over the other and you involuntarily arch your back into him, hand smoothing upwards and nestling into his hair, he makes it a point to pull off only enough to look up and at you — the visual of his tongue dipped out of his mouth and against your flesh as he stares at you enough to make the arousal crash over, you drop your head back down against the mattress. “God,” you whisper, as if exhausted already.

“I'm gonna eat you out, if that's okay,” you hear him question, and you don't bother looking up at him to agree, needing a break from the bombardment of visual stimulation you've already had to suffer through thus far. “Yeah, okay.”

Hongjoong slides down further between your legs, lips loosely pressed to various places on your torso as he makes his way down to pry your legs apart. “Can you not come?” he asks, gently sliding a single finger up your slit. You sort of don't know what he's even asking of you.

“What?”

“Want to wait, it's better if you wait,” he reinstates from earlier in the kitchen, but you thought he meant he was going to make you come now and not even later, but you figure he has a plan. Regardless, curiosity does get the best of you.

“I don't know. Why?”

He chuckles against the inside of one of your thighs, in between pecks. You're still opting out of looking at him. You can only imagine how fucking sinful he looks now, if he looked like that just a second ago from your chest, and if he's asking you not to come, then looking you cannot.

“I like it,” he starts, and the drop in his tone is equally sinful, “a lot.” 

You don't have to be a literary genius to put the logic together that he's telling you he likes to eat pussy, and quite probably more than you're able to hold out for. Knowledge that's dizzying in and of itself. Stand alone. Then there's everything else about the night accompanying it, as well. You weren't going to make it out of this alive.

“Might have to—“ you're cut off by Hongjoong's mouth making contact with your most sensitive flesh, enough to make you jolt up the bed at the suddenness of it. You hear him chuckle under his breath in response, but you focus on the task at hand. “Might have to wait.”

You realize the answer doesn't even make much sense, but it's all your goo-brain can muster, and Hongjoong seems to understand it well enough, replying with a simple “next time, then” and another press of his tongue into you, but one thing remains in the fore front of your mind.

Next time? 

A pointed swirl of the tongue against you, and the thought is lost — thighs threatening to clamp down against his head in spite of his attempt to hold you open for him, you huff out an “oh god,” at the rush, tossing an arm up and over your face in an attempt to ground yourself. You absolutely are not going to make it for whatever sort of marathon cunnilingus session Hongjoong had hoped to have tonight, but with the way his mouth is working you in such little time, you're happy to let him have his way in the future. Bringing a hand up and pressing the same two fingers from before into you once again, the arch of your back has you involuntarily pushing yourself down and against his mouth even more — much to his delight, as far as you can tell, from the way the gentle suction of his lips against you briefly intensifies.

“Good, feels good,” you stammer, breath shaky and trying not to allude to the fact that you're close again as if hoping to come before he's able to stop you, but as a man tailored to the craft, Hongjoong picks up on all of the signs; even as a new and previously unexplored partner — slowing his ministrations against you to eventually pull himself away entirely, and much to your dismay.

“Can't trust you to tell me.” he laughs, and you bring your arm off your face just in time to watch the man before you sit back and on his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before giving you a look that so distinctly tells you that you've misbehaved.

“You're insane,” you huff out in response, and it brings him to a chuckle again. 

“I've heard that before.”

Crawling back up the length of your body, Hongjoong wastes no time pressing his lips hard into your own, this time much more aggressive than the previous — more teeth than before, breathing heavier and more ragged — groin pressed into the apex of your thighs a bit more snugly, but the feeling of it, the need to feel him, see him, weighs heavier and heavier on you. As he pulls away from your mouth to trail kisses back down your jaw and toward your ear, you whisper out to him, “want to taste you,” and much to your surprise, he shoots the idea down immediately.

“Next time,” Hongjoong answers swiftly, a heavy whisper into your ear and deep press of himself against you again, it feels like a bid to get you to forget, to change the subject. Like he doesn't want you to, yet doesn't want to say that.

“But I want to,” you plead, an assumption that he may think you don't really want to and are only offering because he has been so gracious, but it's the following giggle into your ear — a tickle with the puff of his breath and his hand floating up to the side of your face, opposite of where he reside, thumb tracing your bottom lip to eventually lightly hook into the corner of your mouth — you welcome it, tongue swirling against the black painted finger, you pull a groan from his throat, almost pained, dripping with elicit desire and want.

“Next time,” he reiterates. “Not about me.”

You conclude that tonight — the first time — he makes all about his partner, although his insistence on there being a next time rings heavy in your ears as someone well aware of his alleged “policies.”

And yeah, you want to suck him off, but you want to allow him the reigns of the experience even more. Next time, then.

Hongjoong pulls himself up again, kneeling between your legs and runs a hand through his disheveled, blue hair. “I don't usually do this, but since we're close—“ he starts, and it's the first time you can tell through the entire experience that he seems uncertain of anything. 

“I have condoms, but—“ and he pauses again, you realize you're watching him think through this in real time, that it must have been a thought that came to him only just now in this moment. “Obviously it's fine if you want to use one, just saying.”

Looking him dead in the eyes, you ask, “How often do you give partners this option?” and immediately, he responds.

“I don't.”

“Then I kind of—“ and you pause, a wash of humiliation taking you in the moment at how desperate you realize you are to feel him, and paired with the fact that you're getting an experience that no one else does. The Kim Hongjoong Experience? Then what was this?

Corner of his lip curling only briefly, Hongjoong settles back down against you to kiss you; lips, jaw, chin, down to your neck and around to the juncture where your ear meets. Humming into your skin, hand dipping down and between the two of you to gently press into you and work you open for him again, you moan into the touch. “Ahhh,” he says, an innocent enough passing commentary that you think is about your maintained slickness.

“So you really want to feel me, hm?”

You realize then, that he's referring to your willingness to go without protection, but the words send the arousal pooling in your gut straight south more, tightening around the fingers already buried inside of you. Now he truly knows where you stand.

“You like when I talk dirty,” he adds. Not a question, but a statement. He knows this, and is simply informing you of the newfound knowledge that he has acquired. “Can I?” he asks, and without being entirely sure of what it is that he's asking permission for, you grant it with a quick nod, followed by the feeling of him removing his hands from you and freeing himself from his own confines. 

Hongjoong rests his weight on one forearm as his other hand remains between the two of you, head buried into your neck as he slowly rubs the tip of himself along you — collecting the wetness but not yet pushing in, you reel at the feeling of being so, so, close and still not having it. You're not one to beg for dick, but you're certainly reaching a point where you might have to. Hips pressing up and against him in an attempt to feel more, you hear him snort in laughter — hot puffs of breath against the skin of your neck and face at your neediness for him. “God, you want it so bad, you poor thing, how have you made it this long?”

In truth, “this long” has only been a few days, but at this point, you're not sure how either with the intensity in which you need to feel him inside of you.

“Joong, I—“ you start, but you insist to yourself on not wanting to beg for it. He picks up on it too quickly, though. 

“Yes?”

“Don't play.” It's not begging, you're just asking nicely. 

“It's okay to ask for what you want,” he whispers in response, nearly pressing into you enough to enter, but only with intention of egging you on. “I'll give you anything you want.”

Hot and laced with want, but more than that, the desire to please, and you can't help yourself any longer. “Joong, please,” you respond, and he hums at your compliance as he slowly sinks himself into you until his hips meet flush with your own. Hongjoong stills once you are made full with him, bringing his arm back up to bear equal weight on both sides and interlocking his own fingers with your own, you find the experience of finally having him inside of you intense. Intimate. Passionate and raw for all of the obvious reasons but even beyond that, you find that it's the way he looks at you from atop you — takes in your every movement and breath and sound that is truly what makes him the lover he has allegedly been made out to be.

The first withdraw, followed with a glide forward of his hips is slow like the first, the second and third similar. Then he shuffles himself in position slightly and retracts again — this time, the roll of his hips forward has you gasping out. He notices, with the way his face changes, as if he has found what it is that he's been looking for. You realize that he has. 

Nothing about sex with this man occurs by accident. Everything carefully planned out in accordance to precisely how and when he plans on making you come.

Your breath hitching in your throat as you attempt to swallow down a particularly pathetic whimper, you watch him smile in response to it, as if he's having fun being the unraveling of you.

“Feel good?” he asks, and you respond “yes” in a gasp as his hips snap back into you at the same angle, but quicker and with more force. The feeling nearly knocks conscious thought out of you completely, the aftermath has you reeling. “Good, I'm gonna move, okay?”

Nodding, Hongjoong kisses you before pulling up and to his knees again, still buried inside of you but once again adjusting his positioning, he places his hands at your waist and pulls you down against him, your feet planted flat on either side of his hips, knees bent, and you realize now that he's constructed the perfect angle. 

He draws back again, this time pulling you onto his cock with more force than his own push, but with the weight behind it as well as the angle, you immediately reach down and grip into the bed sheets. “Fuck,” you whimper, then another snap of his hips, “fuck, fuck, Joong—“

“That good, huh?” he replies, almost as if the scene before him is simply an experiment and you're the test subject. Just a man on a journey to find the most optimal angle, albeit, you don't imagine that's too far from the case.

“Fuck, I think—“ the words falling from your lips sooner than you're able to stop them, and Hongjoong chuckles in response. 

“God, can't do anything to you or else you'll come.”

It's humiliating, and kind of true.

“Might have to just let you so we can really have fun.” he continues on, changing position again so that he lie atop you just as the two of you had started, and you'd be lying if you said that the idea of it didn't excite you.

“Didn't know you wanted it this bad,” he says, snaking an arm down to hook under your knee to grant a new angle, and you groan first in response to the sudden, hard drive of himself into you, then at the contact of his lips to your jaw. 

He's clearly better at having conversations throughout, you already feeling completely fucked out, and having lost the ability to form coherent thought, you want to play along nonetheless. “I didn't know either, not until—“

The knowledge makes him still for just a second, then a slow, deep grind into you in response. “Hearing it from her did it?”

You nod, it's all you can do with the thick drag of him against you and pelvis pressed firm, but you notice that the information is exciting to him, that much is clear.

Hongjoong shifts positions enough so that he's able to pull your wrists up, clasping both of yours together and over your head — quite a switch up from how things had just been, but the grin on his features tells you that he has something in particular at play, something you're excited to become privy to. He settles back down between your legs, carefully restraining you and solidly kissing you on the mouth again, tongue hard against your own before pulling away — and for the first time that night, the look in his eye is almost animalistic. Primal.

“Tsk, tsk,” he finally starts after a myriad of movements. “You only want me because someone else had me, is that it?”

Hongjoong snaps his hips again, this time harder than ever before, and at just the right angle — he has you crying out already, and much to his pleasure.

“You can have me too, but you won't want anyone else after,” he adds, now fixed into a steady drive that makes your skin feel like it's electric, body weight pressed firm against you to free up his hand to rub fingers into the narrow space between the both of your hips. “You'll just have to be mine, you okay with that?”

You nod, only pathetic whimpers falling from your lips as your eyes clench shut at the swiftness in which your orgasm approaches. Hongjoong never relents in rubbing or talking you through it, fucking into you hard as his fingers dig brutally into the wrists held over your head.

“Look at me,” Hongjoong says, the whisper in which he says it betraying the sort of demand it feels so strongly to be, and you follow his direction all the same in spite of its difficulty. “You like it?”

“Yes” you whisper, airy and fucked out.

“You want to come?”

“Yes,” you manage out, but you're losing the ability by the second.

“If you come, you're mine, you know that right?”

You don't care how insane he sounds, because the things that he's saying to you have you clenching hard around him, and every muscle in your body tightening painfully, desperate for the release he's dangling in front of you — any second now at the precipice of granting you what you need from him so badly, so badly that you'll say anything he wants to have it.

“Please, please, Joong—“ you beg, unbeknownst to you until you hear the words in your own ears, and you watch the way Hongjoong's eyes darken at the sound, bottom lip pulled up between his teeth as he pulls his attention down and to the place where the two of you meet.

“Where do I come?” he asks suddenly and with a shake in his voice, his strokes becoming longer, fuller — you know that he's asking because he needs to know now. 

“Inside, ple—“ and you don't get to finish the thought before he's reaffirming your choice. “You sure?”

“Yes,” you exclaim, almost annoyed at his insistence on being such a thorough lover, but it's enough for him then, drives into you hard and long again only a few more times before the coil in your abdomen snaps with the promise of release and you do — hard — harder than you think you ever have before, and if it weren't for the fact that his industrial loft came with the added bonus of no neighbors, you'd be sure that he'd be receiving numerous noise complaints after tonight. Hongjoong fucks you through your high, calmly praising you through it about how well you take him, how well you did, until he reaches his own orgasmic inevitability — fingernails still dug deep into the skin of your wrists as he gently strokes himself through his own and burying deep against you. 

Nearly collapsing soon after, but having the awareness to catch his weight before crushing you, Hongjoong rolls himself off and to the side with chest heaving and one hand sloppily pressing hair from off of his glistening forehead.

You take the free moments to stare at the ceiling above, unable to move. The post-coital fuzziness of mind-altering orgasmic euphoria still ever-present and coursing through every nerve in your body.

Hongjoong coughs, throat dry from the previous activities before managing to speak. 

“Hey uhh, I didn't mean all that stuff by the way—“ he begins, taking on a tone as if to mock himself. “Like about you being 'mine' and all that, was just dirty talking you since you seemed to like it.”

You laugh, “I know.”

“You okay?”

You inhale deeply, still attempting to catch your breath, and as a result, the “yes” you exhale in response sounds entirely spent. Pleased.

Sitting up on your elbows, you look to your side at him, chest still rising and falling with a bit of quickness. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yup.”

“You kept saying 'next time,'” you begin, slightly worried that you may ruin the afterglow of the night. “Did you mean that?”

“Yeah, why wouldn't I?” It's a quick response. “Obviously we don't have to if you don't want to, you won't hurt my feelings.”

“I dunno,” you answer, even though you do. You decide to be forthcoming. “Heard you're kind of a one and done type deal.”

“Because of one person?”

When he says it like that, you realize how unfair the assumption truly is.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Ideally,” Hongjoong starts, so much seriousness to his tone that you find it almost alarming. “I'd like to get to a point in our relationship where I can eat you out for longer than twenty seconds without you coming.”

Caught off guard, you choke on your own spit, playfully swatting at his arm as he rolls away and off of the bed, rummaging through the pile of clothing on the floor.

“I actually do have work I need to get done,” he reaffirms from earlier — the whole entire reason the two of you ended up at his place tonight to begin with.

“So like I said, next time.” 

♡ send me your thoughts and feelings in my ask.  

⎯ ୨next୧ ⎯

[intensid4d]

Like I'm Gonna Loose You - Alessia Russo x Reader

that's a little longer, I hope you enjoy!

+4k of words, not readproof, against with happy end, mentions of homophobia!

.

Football was your first love, your first memory was of you and your father playing together. So you went to college to play and try being a pro. And that’s when you met the true love of your life, the one that were even bigger that your love for football. And that was a girl, your girl. Your Lessi.

At first it was you, Lotte and Alessia. You all soon developing a friendship and becoming inseparable, the three of you coming from England so it made sense that you all would feel less home sick. Then you started to be more soft with Alessia, you weren’t able to say “no” to her. It all started in your last season at the college. You couldn’t stand there seeing all the boys and girls all over her. You didn’t even know you’re gay. It was just so much for you. You never having done a relationship before, why? Well, a guy never interested you but you thought it was because you were too focused on football. Guess you were wrong.

You started to do everything you could to spend more time with her and she never said “no” to you too. It was like she could know what you were thinking, always doing everything you wanted when you don’t even told her anything.

One day you were on the bus to play na away game, Alessia sitting by your side, you sharing your headphones with her. That’s when everything changed forever between you.

“Let do a playlist together, just for us to hear. What do you think?” She asks you, already taking her phone out of her pocket.

“Us. ❤” That was the name of the playlist. You were used to Alessia being soft with you, but this was too much for you to not think that maybe, just maybe, she had fallen for you too. Especially when she started to add songs to it.

“All of me” – John Legend

“Never be Alone” – Shawn Mendes

“Give Me Love” – Ed Sheeran

“Little Things” – One Direction

“Ruin The Friendship” – Demi Lovato

“Perfect” – Ed Sheeran

You looked at her face... God, how could someone be so beautiful?

“Don’t look at me like that.” She tells you, bringing you out of your daydream. When you understand what she had said you frown.

“Like what?”

“Like you feel the same. Like I’m your everything.” She speaks quietly so no one else could hear. You really didn’t know what to say. Your first love was saying she felt the same. Your first love who was also your best friend.

“I...” When she looks away you grab her hand. “I’m in love with you. I mean, I have never felt this before but you makes me feel like I don’t need anything else with I have you here with me. And I think you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen and you... God... I don’t know Lessi, I didn’t know I’m into girls until you happened but I’m totally fine with that, because you made me see that there’s no mistake to love someone. When I’m the one making you smile I feel the same way when I score a goal, my heart goes crazy and...” She stops you by pushing her lips into yours.

And that’s how everything started. It was nothing like the movies, you both telling your feelings in the back of a bus, nothing romantic at all, but it was you and you couldn’t love it more. That was the best time of your life, you couldn’t be more happier. Then, be the end of the year when you went home for holidays you decided that you were coming out to your parentes. You knew Alessia was yours forever, so you knew you needed to do it. You were done not been able to post about her on social media Simply because your parents didn’t know.

So, one day right before Christmas Eve you called your parentes to the living room, ready to tell them you were gay and were dating the love of your life. And so you did, but it was nothing like you hoped. They didn’t like the idea of you being gay. You simply didn’t know what to do.

You loved your family, they were your everything, always having your back but now they couldn’t be happy for you. Your mom even said:

“You can’t do thay, Y/N! Jesus gave you to me, you can’t do that! I won’t let you.” She screams while crying at you.

Then it was hell to you. You were hurt, so much. You really wanted to be with Alessia, but you knew she didn’t desserves to be on that mess. You won’t let her be, never. It was all too much.

“We can fix you, no, we WILL fix you.” Your father said before going to bed.

“I regret being your mom. I regret ever wanting to have you.” It all was too much.

You didn’t have the strength to talk to Alessia, so you declined every call and never texted back. You couldn’t. They did got in your head. Were you wrong? But how could it be so wrong? When Alessia made you the more happiest you had ever been. When you truly loved her?

You don’t know why you stayed at your parent’s house, you really don’t. But you were like shit, not leaving your room to avoid see any of them. Only leaving to eat but always at some time you knew they wouldn’t see you. And you couldn’t eat properly.

It was in January 7th when you got a call from Barcelona, they wanted you. Soon you after you got a call from Lotte too, Alessia told her of you behaviour or, the lack of it. To the blonde, it was like you just erased from her life, she was too much hurt. She even thought to go see you, but if you weren’t even texting her... So she just accepted it. You may have meet someone better. Someone who could make you more happy. That’s what she thought.

You din’t say anything to Lotte, not while staying in your parent’s house. But you tell her about Barcelona. And you tell her you’re moving as soon as possible. She could sense something was wrong, really wrong. You weren’t your usual self. Your voice was emontionless, even while talking about Barca.

.

When you moved out of your parentes house, you were still not in a good place. But you told Lotte everything, you told her you were ashamed of yourself, that you really loved Alessia and that’s why you couldn’t do that to her. You didn’t want her to be with someone who wasn’t worth it her love. Suddenly you didn’t loved yourself anymore and that’s was a lot. How could still treat Alessia the way she deserved to be treated when you couldn’t even treat yourself right anymore?

You couldn’t see her and texting wasn’t aan option so you wrote a letter and asked Lotte to give it to her, you felt like she was the only person left on your life. You have pushed away everyone. And when Lotte left to England again, she had a mission to give it to Lessi and stay with her until she was sure she was okay.

.

“Hi Lessi... First of all, I’m so sorry. I really am. I didn’t know how else I could do this. So I’m writing this now... Anyway, I hope you don’t hate me... I could never hate you, I think I’ll always love you. And I hate myself for hurting you and letting you in the dark for so long. I’m so sorry for not being enough, you deserve so much better. I did everything to not put you into this mess. And that’s why I’m doing it... That’s why I’m ending things... Beucase you deserve better, you deserve someone who can treat you like you are the most incredible person in the world (because you are). I hope I can be your friend some day... I hope I can see your smile in person again, or hug you... Yours hugs always made me feel better. I... Just don’t forget ever that I really love you, okay? I’m just so much hurt right now that I can’t be in a relationship... Lotte will tell everything you want to know. I wish you all the best, my love.

Always yours, Y/N.”

Alessia was hurt, but after reading your letter and, after she stopped crying, having Lotte to tell everything that happened and how you were, she didn’t know what she really was feeling but lost was a really close guess.

“I wish she would let me help her out, I wish she could be still here with me, Lotte.” She cried again on the brunette’s shoulder.

True to her word, Lotte only left Alessia’s house when she needed to present herself at Arsenal and before that she made sure the blonde would that care of herself.

.

It took you two years to rebuild yourself, for you to love yourself, to know that there was no wrong for loving another woman. You did therapy every week since Lotte left your new home. You also didn’t talk that much anymore with your parents. Not having been to their house again, it held too many bad memories.

But you also didn’t see Alessia again, not in person at least. But you always kept an eye on her, by social medias and even watching her games when you were free.

Barcelona become your home, Alexia Putellas and Mapi Leon become your best friends too. They helped you a lot, they were the only ones on the team who knew of everything that had happened with your parents and Alessia. So they always kept you in their hold, and you were grateful for that.

It took three years for you to meet Alessia again, it being on camp for the Lionesses. When you got the call, you were very excited but then you realised you would have to meet Alessia again and that made you almost throw up out of fear. At first, when you arrived at the hotel, there was just Lotte and Beth waiting for you, the others being at their rooms.

“Y/N!” Beth hugs you. “I’m so happy that we can finally play together.”

.

“I missed this, you know... I mean, us being roommates and playing together.” You tell Lotte, after greeting Beth, make a small talk and then go to yours and Lottes room.

“I missed it too. You could always come and play for Arsenal, I know they have been wanting you for a long time.” You sigh at her words and she sits in her bed. “You can’t run away from her forever.”

“I know.” You sit and look at her with a frown. “I know I can’t run away. Fuck, I know she’s here and it makes me want to throw up. What if she hates me?” You put your hands in your face and Lotte comes to your side, passing her arm over your shoulders.

“She doesn’t hate you. I think you should talk to her, it’s been a long time.” You turn to her.

“I don’t know...” You can feel the tears running down your cheeks and your best friend take you in her arms.

“I think I still love her, Lotte.” She tights you in her arms.

“It’s okay, let it all out. I’m here with you. I got you.” And with that you cry in her arms until you fall asleep, exhaustion taking the best of you.

.

The next morning when you wake up, you’re still in your friend’s arms. You get up and get ready to have breakfast. When you get there, you see Leah, Beth, Keira, Georgia and Lucy at one table, so you grab your food and go sit with them.

Your mind was a mess, you wanted to see Alessia but you couldn’t handle the hurt or the hate in her eyes when she looked in your eye, so when you saw she wasn’t there yet you knew that maybe she was avoiding see you.

“She always comes with Ella.” Beth says after seeing the look on your face. “And Ella’s always late.” You just nod and starting eating, not daring to say anything out loud.

After eating, you decided to go to the meeting room, where Sarina would do the official first talk to everything. You found a seat in the middle of the room and grab your phone to go through social medias.

.

It’s only by the end of the meeting that you actually lay eyes on Alessia, having been too focused on what Sarina was saying to notice how Alessia sat on the back of the room or how Ella (who was a really loud person) was silenty and awful worried about her best friend.

When you look at her way you notice she’s already looking at you, you could see everything in her eyes, all the good and bad memories. You feel a shiver run down your neck, making you look at your feets. It’s Lotte’s hand on your back that makes you walk out of the room with you not daring to look up again, too afraid to see her so close or see the hate in her eyes.

.

The first time you talk with her was on 11x11 at practice, you were playing against her.

You were running with the ball, having passed every defender and beeing left only with Mary to deal with. But then, suddenly you felt someone tackling you from behind and an huge pain on your right ankle.

“What the fuck, Ella?!” You could hear Alessia’s voice but you didn’t see her. You were holding your ankle and with your face on the ground, trying to hide the tears in yours eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t-“ The blonde forward didn’t give her the chance to say nothing more, coming to you in fast speed.

“Hey, angel. Can you turn around?” You can feel her hand on your back.

“It hurts so much, Lessi...” You groan quietly to her but manage to turn around as she asked. No one of your teammates daring to come closer and end whatever was happening. Alessia took a deep breath after hearing you calling by her nick name, it wasn’t the right time.

“I know it does, but I’m here with you. I won’t leave your side until you’re alright, okay?” She wipes your tears with the back of her hand and you finally open your eyes to look at her. Seeing Alessia so close and so worried about you made you forget about the pain momentarily.

You are forced to look away from her when the medical team comes to check on you. “Can you walk?” One of them asks you after doing the first check on your ankle.

“Yeah, I think so.” With that, Alessia helps you putting her arm around your waist and yours around her shoulder. You manage to go to the physio room with her help (she was almost carring you in her arms ‘cause you were putting all your weigh on her).

.

True to her words, Alessia haven’t left your side and even when you were sent to the hospital to check if there was any major issues, she still went with you. You both didn’t talk about your past or about any feelings at all. You didn’t have time neither space, there was always somebody else with you. Plus, all Alessia wanted at the moment was for you to be okay. When she saw you going down and crying yourself out of pain, she felt all again. Everything she so desesperately tried to bury at the bottom of her heart. She knew she would probably regret it later, but now she couldn’t care less.

So when the doctors said it wasn’t as bad as it looked to be, and that you only needed to rest for 3 days she was relieved. And the blonde, herself made a promise to the doctor applying that she would that care of you and wouldn’t let you do anything stupid. You could only hope it was true, the thinking of her being with you sounding like yet a dream for you.

.

When you got back to the hotel, she walks you to your room.

“So...” She starts saying but you cut her off.

“I miss you.” She gasps at your sudden confession and you take it was a bad signal and give her a sad smile. “Thank you for today, you really didn’t need to do all this...”

“It’s okay, I wanted to.” She gives you a small smile. “Can I – “ She pauses for a moment, like she’s thinking of what to say. “Can I hug you?” She finally asks, for all day she was close to you, touching you (because she knew physical touch helped you in any ways) and yet here she is, asking you if she could give you a hug.

“Always.” You whisper and open your arms, she wastes no time and puts her arms around your waist, hidding her face on your neck. You put your arms around her neck and your face at the top of her head, you take this moment to smell her hair again. It felt like home.

“I’m sorry about everything, please forgive me.” You say quietly to her, your eyes closed so that you could enjoy the moment. You wanted to remember it forever.

“It wasn’t your fault.” She gives your neck a little kiss before pulling away reluctantly. You felt a single tear come down your cheek, and she wipes it carefully.

“You need some rest, I should go now.” She take a step back.

“Okay.” You give her another small smile and put your key card on the door, when you’re about to open it she calls you again.

“Y/N! I miss you too.” It’s all she says before disappear into the elevator.

.

You wake up in the next day with Lotte getting ready for practice. She haven’t asked you anything, knowing that you would open up when you’re ready.

“I’ll go with you to have breakfast, then I’ll go to the pyshio.” You say to her after getting ready too.

.

You’re in the pyshio putting some ice on your ankle when Ella comes into the room with your favorite flower in hands.

“Hey, Y/N... I’m sorry about your ankle I really didn’t mean to. I was just so stressed about this whole you and Alessia thing th-” She stops herself, realising she was talking too much. “Err, this is for you.” She hands the sunflower to you.

“Thank you so much. And you don’t have to apologize, it’s okay.” You take the sunflower of her hand. “How did you know it was my favorite?” You smile looking at it.

“Oh, I got some advice.” You look at her with a small smile forming in your lips. “You should talk to her. If you love her and promise me to not break her heart again I can help you.”

“I really do love her, I never stoped. I never wanted to break her heart...” You look around, putting your thoughts in place. “I promise that, if I ever have her love again, I won’t ever break her heart. Not again.” You look into her eyes so she could know you were being true in your words.

“Okay.” It all she says. You frown.

“Okay?”

“Yes. When you finish this, come to my room. Here, take my keycard.” She gives it to you. “She’s almost finishing her gym session. Then, I’ll text her to come to our room but it will be you there, not me!” She says simply, gives you a little kiss on the head and exits the room. But then after a few seconds she enters the room again.

“And don’t make me hate you again or next time I will go for you knee! Text me when you’re done so I can know when text her.” Then she lefts again. You look at the door in completely shock.

“What the fuck.” You mumble to yourself.

.

10 minutes later you’re done in the physio, so you text Ella on Instagram to let her know you’re going her room now. On your way there, you think what you’re going to say to her but you know that at the moment you see her you’ll forget everything. You have wanted to do this so many times during these 3 years you spent apart but you didn’t know if she would like to even see you again. When you get out of your own head you notice you’re already at the door of her room.

When you get into the room you see wich is Alessia’s bed and you put the sunflower Ella gave you in the middle of it. The memorie of her loving sunflower just as much as you loved and it becoming your flower and yours only. Everytime one of you passed by a flowershop you got one for the other. It was a silent way of saying ‘I love you’.

It takes another 15 minutes for Alessia to come to the room, you were by the window the moment she comes in. At first she doesn’t notice you and you could tell the first thing she saw was the sunflower at her bed.

“Toone I told you to give it to Y/N and apologize for almost breaking her ankle, why did you-“

“She already did.” You stop her and she finally see you, you can see she’s surprised. She takes a moment, then grab the sunflower from her bed and looks at it with pain in her eyes.

“Don’t you like it anymore? I’m sorry I-” You cut her off again.

“I love it, reminds me of you. Can we sit and talk? Only if you want to... I mean, I don’t want to do nothing you wouldn’t be confortable and if you want me to go I’ll, there wouldn’t be a problem...” She raises her hand so you can stop.

“It’s okay, don’t worry...” She takes a deep breath and you do the same, looking at your hands.

“Okay...” You say more to yourself, trying to have some courage. “First, I wanted to say I’m sorry for how things ended. I know I wasn’t in a good place and I know I could have let you choose if you wanted to stay or go but you have to know I did this because you don’t deserve to be with someone who’s broke. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy and I knew I couldn’t make you happy that time. It took me two years to be over what my parentes did to me but three years isn’t enough to get over you. I want you to know that there isn’t a day I don’t regret ever letting you go. You was- No, you are the best thing that ever happened to me I think I’ll love you forever, even if I have another life I’ll still love you.” You haven’t notice when but she’s close to you know, so close you can feel her smell. You look into her eyes, her ocean eyes that right now are full of tears and it’s enough to make you cry too.

“And you were never alone, never. I kept an eye on you, even from afar. I’m so proud of who you have became... You’re an amazing person, Alessia. You’re an incredible player too. And you’re even more beautiful...” You wipe her tears away and when she leans on your touch, you leave your hand on her cheek. “Everytime I passed by a flowershop I still had a sunflower, even if I didn’t have you anymore to give it to. I liked to buy and bring it home because for me it’s like a little piece of you. It’s unique and it’s one of the most beautiful things I ever saw.”

She gots even closer to you and put her forehead on yours, you close your eyes when she cups your cheek. You heart beating faster than it ever had.

“You have to promise me you’ll never let me in the dark again. Please, I beg you. You have to promise me you’ll never leave of my life without saying anything anymore. God, Y/N I wish I could ever hate you for breaking my heart.” You both fully crying now. “I wish you weren’t the only one who could put all the peaces together again.”

“I’m so sorry.” You put your arms around her and you both stay like that. Your body and foreheads together, Alessia’s hands of your cheeks and your arms around her.

“If we are trying this again, trying us again it has to be slowly. I’m scared. I love you but I’m hurt and afraid and you need to show me you’re not going to run away from me anymore.” She wipes your tears again.

“I wouldn’t dare to loose you twice. I’m in for real, I’m all yours. If you want to try us again, we’ll do it step be step. And I’ll love you in every one of them. Please Lessi, let me make this right.” You grab her hands and look into her eyes.

“Okay.” She whispers.

“Can I kiss you?” You say quietly and she answer you by putting her lips on yours softly.

You'll do everything you can to make her feel safe with you again.

[btsgotjams27]

keeping up appearances | pjm

summary: When you move back to New York, you must keep up appearances when you see your ex-boyfriend.

✨ title: keeping up appearances | ✨ pairing: jimin x f!reader ✨ rating: m/18+ | minors dni | ✨ word count: 7.5k ✨ genre/au: angst, light smut(?) | exes to ??, new year's eve ✨ warnings: language, alcohol consumption, reader gets tipsy, masturbation (f) but she doesn’t come, a memory of jimin (touching, kissing, marking, fingering, breast/nipple play), brief mention of fuck buddy!namjoon, did i mention angst?? ✨ playlist ✨ a/n: i've always wanted to write a fic based on NIKI's 'La La Lost You', so it's finally here. i hope you all enjoy it. thank you to @purplewhalewrites and @amethystwritesbts for being my betas. and a huge shoutout to @monimonimoon/@moni-logues for the brainstorming sesh and co-writing a part of this! also check out, 'the comeback' 👀 from them.

The blue circle around the date of December 21st began taunting you the more you stared at it. You finally made the hard decision of leaving Los Angeles after two years. Like every naïve person who moves to Hollywood, you placed all of your hopes and dreams into a job. However, that job turned out to be exactly like your previous one.

On the first day of the new job, you excitedly brought your new laptop gifted by your parents. You were ready to start brainstorming and pitching ideas for potential storylines and arcs. Then a staff writer asked why you were sitting in their seat. That's when you realized you were an intern, made to bring coffee and make copies for the writers.

"Keep working hard, and you'll move up, we promise," said one of the head writers on the show.

But empty promises weren't going to get you where you wanted. Two years later, you had only moved up to become a writing assistant and, at times, were still asked to bring coffee and grab lunch.

Haley, your housemate, quietly knocked on your door, leaning against the threshold. "Are you excited to be going back home?" She tried her best to hold it together because she had grown fond of you.

You didn't answer right away because you weren't. Having to go home as a complete and utter failure was the last thing you wanted. You were supposed to be a big shot - the girl who chased after their dreams and made them come true. You even left the man you loved to pursue your career. But you would have to chuck up the courage and face reality. Life in LA wasn't working out for you.

"I guess," you shrugged, folding your shirt before tossing it in your suitcase.

"Aren't you excited to see Jimin?" Haley asked. She was a West Coast girl who dreamed of the Big Apple and was always nosy about your previous life, especially when she saw the photo of Jimin hidden in your sock drawer.

Park Jimin. You thought about him too many times to count, wondered how he was doing, if he had moved on and found a new girlfriend. You didn't expect him to stay hung up on you, and the breakup had left you in shambles.

When you first arrived in California, you couldn't sleep and didn't have an appetite. You had no friends and had to figure everything out alone without help. Coming to LA was a fucking shit show. Sometimes you just wanted to pack your bags and go home, maybe grovel and beg for Jimin's forgiveness. But you made such a big fuss about this being a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that you couldn't pass up, only to find out you gave up being with Jimin for nothing.

"I don't think he'd want to see me. I already fucked up his life once."

Honestly, would anyone be excited to see an ex again? You guessed you'd try one-upping each other to see who was doing better.

A buzz from your phone disrupted your thought. You picked up to see it was your friend, Taehyung.

Taetae 2:41 PM

You're coming to my New Year's Party, right?

A party was the last thing on your mind. You hadn't told anyone you were moving back. The only people who knew of your move were your family and Taehyung, and you didn't want to announce your letdown.

You 2:45 PM

Do I have to?

Taetae 2:46 PM

Yes! You've never missed my parties, minus the years you were gone.

"Who's that?" Haley asked, peering from far away.

You sighed, plopping on the bed and staring at Taehyung's text. "An old friend is asking me to go to a party when I get back." You lay there trying to think of an excuse to bail, but you knew you'd never hear the end of it from him.

Taetae 2:50 PM

Guess I gotta tell everyone you're moving back.

You 2:51 PM

Goddamnit, Kim Taehyung! When I see you, I will hug you and then strangle you!

Taetae 2:52 PM

Be on time. Can't wait to see you.

You groaned, throwing your phone off to the side.

"Guess you're going to the party?" Haley inquired.

"Can I just crawl into a hole and never come out?" you asked before grabbing your pillow and screaming into it. You'd rather be doing anything than face all of your old friends, and you just knew Jimin would be there too.

When you arrived in New York, hanging out with your family kept your mind off the upcoming New Year's Eve Party. Your parents were glad to have you back home and even teased you about paying rent since you were staying in your old room, but all you did was roll your eyes at their suggestion.

Of course, your days back in New York wouldn’t be complete without Taehyung constantly bombarding you, making sure you were coming to his grand ol’ party. On Christmas Eve, you received a call from him and you picked up but all you heard on the other line were high pitched whimpers and deep groans.

“Shit–Can’t believe I’m fucking Chelsea in Chelsea.”

You gasped, mouth agape at what you were hearing. “Kim Taehyung, why the fuck are you calling me when you’re fucking?!” you yelled into your phone before hitting the end button.

Ten minutes later, you receive a text.

Taetae 10:27 PM

Sorry about earlier. Dunno how that happened. Butt dial or something…

You slightly threw up in your mouth thinking about Taehyung’s naked ass touching his phone.

You 10:30 PM

🙄 Finished that quickly? Couldn’t keep your Chelsea in Chelsea happy huh?

Taetae 10:31 PM

I’ll have you know that we were going at it for two hours already.

You 10:33 PM

🤮 Please keep those details to yourself. I don’t wanna hear about your sex life.

Taetae 10:35 PM

You still coming to my party right?

You 10:37 PM

Not after you butt dialed me while you’re having sex. You’re disgusting.

Taetae 10:38 PM

Guess I’ll just tell Jimin you moved back.

You huffed, turning to your side, furiously texting back.

You 10:40 PM

How long are you going to hold that over me?

Taetae 10:41 PM

Until you come clean 😄 See you on New Years!

Christmas had gone by, and it was filled with family and lots and lots of food. Your mother insisted on stuffing your belly to the brim. She reasoned that you probably didn't have a proper home-cooked meal when you lived in LA – which was accurate.

"Have you seen Jimin yet?" your mother asked while unhooking the ornament from the Christmas tree, hardly paying attention to the expression on your face.

You shook your head, not wanting to go into further detail.

"I'm sure he'll be glad to see you," she said sweetly. She knew how much the two of you loved each other, and even she was heartbroken when she heard about the breakup.

This conversation was reminiscent of the one with Haley before you left. No, you didn't think Jimin would be glad to see you, and you weren't keen on seeing him either. Taehyung mentioned in a text that he was seeing someone and figured you should have a heads-up to prepare if he brought her to the party. So, if you were to see Jimin at the party, you'd most likely see his girlfriend too, which made your heart sink a little because that would mean that he was doing well in love and probably in life.

Throughout your time on the West Coast, you often thought about Jimin, wondered how he was doing, and if he was achieving his dreams. You even tried searching for his username on all socials. But, you figured he blocked you because there were no traces of him on the internet save for the photos here and there that Taehyung would post. That's how you knew how much you hurt him.

"I always liked Jimin," your mother continued, but you didn't respond again. "If I thought you would marry anyone, it'd be him."

You groaned at her comment. "Mom, can you stop, please?"

Everything was about Jimin. Jimin, Jimin, Jimin. You wished you could erase the name from all traces of your life, but it was nearly impossible. Being back in New York meant you were bound to step back into some old habits and routines, revisit old friends, and hell, you even toy with the idea of rekindling things with Jimin, but you sure weren't going to be a homewrecker.

"I'm sorry. I know it's a sore subject for you, but it's been two years since you last saw him. It's possible that he's forgiven you. And who wouldn't forgive this pretty face?" Your mother put down the last ornament and cupped your cheeks, the pads of her thumb gently caressing them.

You closed your eyes and let out a sigh. "No, mom, I'm sorry. I just--I feel so stupid, you know? I gave up my whole life, gave up Jimin for a pipe dream...and it turned out to be nothing like I had hoped for."

Your eyes were now glistening, tears threatening to fall. The small, shaky intakes of breaths building in your lungs finally found their release in a long extended puff.

"I should've stayed. If I stayed, things might have worked out differently for Jimin and me and my career." Tears began streaming down your face, and the things you wanted to say became hitched in your throat.

Your mother pulled you in for a hug, quietly shushing you and caressing your hair. "We don't know what would've happened if you stayed. But I just know that if you didn't go, you'd regret not finding out." She pulled away, hands still cupping both sides of your face, gazing into your teary eyes. "And as for Jimin, he'll come around. They always do," she grinned.

You hoped she was right, but you also weren't counting on it. You hadn't even forgiven yourself for leaving him.

Before you left, you had hauled everything from Jimin's place and stuffed it into your old room. You glared at the boxes piled up in the corner because you knew what lay in them: memories. Memories of you and Jimin. Memories that you didn't have the heart to toss–not yet. There was an urge to look through the boxes but you resisted.

As you lay in bed staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling, you thought about what your mother said, 'He'll come around. They always do'. Except Jimin had clearly moved on, finding someone else to replace you. It's not like you expected him to stay single forever. Jimin's a catch; anyone would be lucky to have him by their side.

Your room was imprinted with memories of you and him - bits and pieces scattered throughout your walls, the floor, and the bed. Your mind fluttered to a distant memory of him slowly backing you up against your door.

His plush lips kissed you along your jawline, lightly marking your neck. His hand down your panties, slipping between your folds, telling you to stay quiet; otherwise, your parents would catch their precious daughter red-handed being finger fucked by her boyfriend. It was the second time he was having dinner with you and your parents, and he desperately wanted to see where you had lived out all of your teenage angst. He thought your room was pretty, but you writhing underneath while he pushed two fingers inside your cunt was the best view he could ever have.

You found yourself massaging your breast while the other slid past the waistline of your lace panties toward your sensitive bud, rubbing your clit in circles.

Jimin's fingers were pumping in and out of you, eliciting small moans and whimpers. He pulled down the top of your dress and bra, freeing your breast. He squeezed it before enclosing his mouth on your nipple, then alternated between sucking and flicking his tongue against your pebbled flesh.

Your fingers started overworking your clit, continuously rubbing quicker, your heart raced a million miles per second, your breath hitched in your throat, and your body helplessly squirmed underneath the covers.

"Fuck--" you whimpered against Jimin's mouth as he swallowed your moan, trying to keep you from outing yourself to your parents. Jimin pulled away, smiling at how fucked out you looked already. "'m gonna cum," you mumbled, words barely coherent.

Your half-lidded eyes peered at the angelic man before you, being anything but angelic - more of a devil if you should say so yourself. He grinned at how needy and desperate you were for his fingers. Normally, Jimin would be praising you, telling you how much of a good girl you were, but this time he was quiet, allowing himself to drink all of you in. Your nails dug deeper into his shoulders, head lulled back, slightly thudding against the door. The building pleasure was deep in your belly, begging to find its release as Jimin decided to add a third finger into your dripping cunt. And that's when the coiling tension finally--

A blaring siren from outside broke your line of concentration. You groaned in frustration right as you were on the cusp of coming. The moment was over because you probably shouldn't be thinking about Jimin anyway. But no one else was worthy enough to even think about. The few guys you slept with didn't come close to what you and Jimin had, and he ruined other men for you. But coming back to New York meant you would have traces of Park Jimin everywhere.

D-day had finally arrived. Your room looked like a tornado had ripped through your entire closet, because clothes were everywhere. You needed the perfect outfit for an LA gal coming back to 'visit.' You weren't sure how long you'd keep moving back to New York a secret, but you'd try for as long as possible.

As you stepped into the lobby of Taehyung's building, you checked your makeup and tugged down your sparkly sequin skirt. You figured nothing said 'glam' more than a sparkly skirt. You fixed a stray hair that was out of place before finally striding towards the elevator.

Your nerves hit you like a ton of bricks once you stood outside Taehyung's door. Your hands were so sweaty it was hard to get a good grip on the handle. You wiped your palm against your fuzzy white sweater, hoping it would help.

Music was already blaring, chattering, and laughter echoed throughout the apartment. You looked around, expecting to see some familiar faces, and were met with none other than your good friend, Kim Taehyung.

"Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in," Taehyung smirked, pulling you in for a hug.

"Hi, Taetae," you muttered reluctantly, withdrawing from his embrace. "Looks like you're doing well with your modeling career." You stepped away to observe the industrial loft decorated with quirky artwork and figurines. At least someone was doing well for themselves, you thought.

"It's so good to have you back," he enunciated a bit too loud for your liking, making you slap his arm.

"Jeez, Tae, tell the whole fucking world," you spat at him. You weren't ready for anyone to know you were back. You cleared your throat before pulling Taehyung aside, away from wandering eyes and listening ears. You already caught a few glances and smiles when you entered the apartment. "If you happen to hear that I'm just visiting and am working on a movie with a big named director, can you go along with it?"

Taehyung stared blankly at your request. "You're kidding me, right? I'm not helping you with anything." He tore away from your grip, heading in the other direction.

You followed closely, stepping in front of him. "Please, Tae, just for tonight, and then half of these people will probably never see me again," you pleaded desperately.

He rolled his eyes. "Fine--but only if you take a shot with me," he raised his eyebrow, hoping you'd take the bait.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "You're lucky 'cause I don't want to remember tonight," you said, knocking back the glass he handed you, grimacing as the liquid coated your throat. "Round two?"

After downing three tequila shots, you were ready to spill all your secrets to the next person who asked how you were doing. Drinking was never your strong suit, but it was the only thing on your itinerary tonight.

With another drink in your hand, you scanned the room, anticipating the one person you were trying to avoid. As you took a sip of your mixed drink, you looked up towards the door, and it was like the heavens opened up, and in walked your gorgeous, ethereal ex-boyfriend, Park Jimin. To your surprise, no one was attached to his hip, and a wave of relief flushed over you because God knows you were not ready to meet a girlfriend.

The butterflies in your stomach are begging to escape - indicating how anxious you were to see him. It almost felt like time had stopped just so the two of you could gaze at each other. You couldn't help but give Jimin the once-over. He looked as angelic as ever when he effortlessly waltzed over to you, beaming with the biggest smile you've seen on him. It was like no one else existed at this moment except for you and him.

When Jimin approached, the jitters within increased. He opened his arms up for a hug, your name leaving his lips, and honestly, you were surprised at how excited he seemed to see you. You were expecting the cold shoulder, the brush-off with how everything went down the two of you. There had been no contact since you'd left, so you wondered if Jimin being warm and friendly was just a ruse, and deep down inside, he actually despised your presence. What gave you the right to return to New York after all this time?

"Long time no see!" he said, wrapping his arms around you. "How have you been?"

Your eyes widened, arms tucked tightly underneath his with no way to hug him back, but again, his affection really threw you in for a loop. He couldn't see your awkward smile as he held you. When he finally let go, you were able to answer.

"Yeah, great! Good. I'm good." You loved that right off the bat; you were already lying to Jimin. You were hoping you had learned some acting skills from the actors you'd watch from time to time.

"How's LA treating you?"

Well, this was the big question of the night from everyone, wasn't it? Now was your chance to tell the truth, or tell a lie. Which one will it be?

You scanned his face, eyes seeking attention. Maybe he wanted someone else to chime in and break up the most awkward conversation the two of you ever held.

"Uh, yeah, it's great. Everything's going, uh, pretty well."

Lie it is, then. You could've told him the truth, but then Jimin might have felt victorious because life didn't go the way you wanted. He would have had the upper hand in this non-existent competition you had fabricated in your mind. You left him. And for what? Another dead-end intern job marketed as your dream job? God, you were a fucking idiot - still were sometimes. Maybe that's how you ended up living with your parents back home.

"But how are you?" you asked out of politeness. It was only courteous since he asked first. "How's New York?"

A part of you desired he would say what you didn't dare to say - the truth. Honestly, you anticipated he was doing a million times better than you. Jimin had everything going for him before you left. At least, that's what it looked like from your perspective. You hoped all his dreams could come true even if yours didn't. One of you deserved to be happy, and you'd rather it be him.

"New York is great, actually. I got accepted into the corps with ABT."

It was as you expected - Jimin was doing very well. The American Ballet Theatre? You were in shock, mouth agape for a few moments before you realized it had been too long before you said anything. Your mouth curved into a smile before you were finally able to speak. "Oh my god, Jimin, that's amazing," you said, opening up your arms this time to embrace him. This hug wasn't like the one before when he first saw you, and it was less touching - more refined and more civilized.

When you pulled away, all Jimin could do was smile. Maybe he was trying to be friendly and humble since you didn't elaborate on how 'well' you were doing in LA. You didn't want to go into detail about your life for fear of slipping through a lie.

"Anyway, I'm going to go get a drink, see if I can find Tae."

Whew. You thought you would have to be the one to come up with an excuse but thank God Jimin only just got here and needed a drink. You showed him yours and nodded as he turned away. A sigh of relief washed over you as you watched your ex-boyfriend walk away.

"Hey!" you exclaimed, making Jimin stop to turn back to look at you. "I'm really happy for you."

Jimin - One.

You - Zero.

Like you had hoped, at least one of you was doing well.

Your goal was to get hammered and avoid Jimin for the rest of the night. Maybe you could find a room to slip into or pretend to fall asleep in the corner. Anything was better than smiling until your cheeks hurt and mingling with people you didn't want to see.

"No fucking way. Is that who I think it is? My big Hollywood girl!" You turned to see an old friend, Quinn, nicknamed Quinnie by your friend group. She ran over, tightly embracing you. "How are you, babe?"

"Good...good," you tried to take a breath and gasped when she finally let go. Quinnie was a big personality, and you knew you'd need more than the half-empty drink in your hand to finish a conversation with her. You cleared your throat, beaming a fake smile at her. "How are you, Quinnie?"

"Oh, it's the same 'ole, same ' old with me! Let's talk about you," she said, dragging you down the hallway. It was quieter than the commotion in the living room and kitchen. "So come on, spill the tea! What big stars have you seen? Slept with?" she wiggled her brows, making you roll your eyes.

You hardly had time to sleep around, given the nature of the entertainment industry. Sure, you were invited to parties, but everyone always had a front or wanted something from you. It was hard to trust anyone. You may have had your fuck buddy, Namjoon, a music producer, but he was nothing more than that - someone to sleep with and release the stress of your job.

"Quinnie…you know I don't kiss and tell," you said with a sly smile, taking a sip of your almost empty cup.

"Okay fine. If there's no big-name star you slept with, what are you working on now? You can't have gone to LA for two years and not have something big lined up! Spill!" Quinn said with wide eyes, waiting for your answer.

You looked around, making sure no one could overhear because you didn't know how many lies and people you'd have to keep up with. The two of you were near the bathroom door but figured whoever was there probably couldn't hear anything due to the music. You leaned in, gesturing for her to come in closer.

"I'm so excited. Look, I'm really not supposed to actually tell anyone this, but this thing I'm working on now... It's with Lin-Manuel Miranda."

He was the one playwright and filmmaker you'd dreamt of working with, and with his new musical in the works, he was the first person that popped into your head. With how your life was going, you knew it was only a pipe dream.

"Shut up! SHUT UP!" Quinn squealed, trying to keep her cool when someone passed by. The two of you glared at the person before Quinn turned back to you. "You're fucking kidding me! Can you get me on set or meet him? Please, please, please!"

You felt like shit after letting the lie roll off your tongue. It was too easy. Why was it so easy to do that? Who had you become after moving to California? Another person who put up a front like all those trying to make it in the entertainment industry? New Yorkers were supposed to be tough and tell you like it’s supposed to be, not be shallow and fake like every orange spray-tanned person in Hollywood.

Maybe a breath of fresh air would do you some good. The crowd had begun to grow, and the room became stuffy.

The freezing night was one thing you didn't miss about New York, but Taehyung’s view significantly made up for it–well, some of it. You leaned your arms against the guard rail, gripping your cup, watching cars pass by, couples and friends racing against the clock to head to their destination. You didn’t like drinking because your thoughts somehow became clearer, the voice growing louder, almost mocking you for your decisions. Being here with old friends and seeing Jimin brought back too much heartache.

Taehyung's model friends interrupted your train of thought, and you left once they lit a cigarette to share. You didn't want to come home smelling like smoke.

The small breath of fresh air got your mind off Jimin and your lies for a split second, but as soon as you stepped back into the crowded room, your eyes found Jimin. But this time, he was talking to someone. A woman. They were laughing, and he was leaning in to whisper something to her. Your stomach began forming a knot because that had to be Jimin's girlfriend, right? You knew you wouldn't be able to avoid it.

You quickly averted your eyes from the two, not wanting to pay attention more than you already had. Suppose it was time for another drink.

Turning your wrist over and checking your watch, there was an hour left until midnight. Then you’d be free to leave and never see anyone again. Taehyung nudged you from behind as you poured yourself a glass of wine, and you needed a small break from all the hard liquor.

“Hey, sweet cheeks…How’s it going? You doing okay?” Taehyung asked, holding out a glass so you could pour him one.

You rolled your eyes at the pet name. “I’m peachy,” you said, holding the peach-flavored white wine.

“Did you see Jimin already?”

Yes, you saw him. And yes, he was doing ten times better than you were. And no, you didn’t want to hear more from Taehyung about anything related to Park Jimin. “Yep,” you replied curtly, “…and I don’t want you rubbing his success in my face.”

Taehyung snorted, spitting out his wine. “You guys are both losers,” he said, shaking his head.

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion, and you weren’t sure if he was referring to this party in general or now. “Shut up, Tae,” you quipped, taking another sip of the disgusting wine.

“You shut up–you’re both losers because you’re both yapping away and telling lies to everyone in the room,” Taehyung glared at you, cocking his eyebrow. 

Did he just say that Jimin was lying too? “What?” you uttered, setting down your glass, replaying your and Jimin’s conversation. You weren’t crazy, right? Jimin said he was in the ABT.

“He’s not with ABT. He’s lying to you,” Taehyung said, “I love you both, but please, for the love of god, get your shit together.” Maybe all the liquor was also getting to him, and his drunken words spoke sober thoughts.

You were stunned at the revelation. After all this time, Jimin’s dream didn’t happen either.

The rest of the night was rinse and repeat of the same conversations. How are you? What are you up to? What are you working on? Yada-yada-yada. Oh god, you were tempted just to grab a bottle of liquor and drown yourself in it. You didn't know how much longer you could hold out. You might have to sober up and call it a night.

After another restless exchange of lies rolling off your tongue, you needed a quiet place away from everything and everyone. You wandered down the hallway to a door already opened, peering in to see that it was empty, guessing it was Taehyung's room, given that a large photo of him was framed above a dresser. You chuckled, shaking your head as you sat down on the bed.

Briefly, you peered around the room before fiddling and staring at your cup. A sudden click of the door grabbed your attention then you scoffed when you realized you weren’t alone–the one, the only, Park Jimin, showed up. You lifted your cup to take one last sip, but you had already finished yet another drink - losing count after the first one. “Miss me that much, huh?” You probably weren’t the nicest person to be around when you drank. Maybe your attitude would be different if life had gone how you wanted it to.

“Just trying to make sure you don’t die of alcohol poisoning. Haven’t you had enough?”

You cocked your eyebrow, tilting your head, “Don’t you have a girlfriend to worry about?” you asked with spite, most likely due to the alcohol running through your veins. You may have pre-gamed before getting to the party just to loosen up your nerves.

“She’s not here,” he replied simply.

You gawked at him, eyes raking him over from head to toe before looking away to stare at anything but the man you once loved. “So, why are you here, then?”

The two of you weren’t together anymore. Jimin didn’t need to worry about you. Big girls don’t fucking cry and whine in front of their exes, and they surely don’t need to be rescued. You’d lost the privilege of Jimin giving two shits about you when you left him two years ago.

"I should be asking you that. I live here. You haven’t been back for two years."

“Well, I’ve been busy in LA. That’s why I haven’t been back.” Which was true - but mostly running errands for coffee and lunch instead of writing as you wanted. You didn’t want to think about what Jimin would have to say about you leaving him for basically nothing.

“Yeah, I’ll bet.”

Jimin raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes. What the fuck was his problem right now?

“Do you have something you need to get off your chest? I still don’t understand why you’re in this room with me. I’m sure you’d be having more fun out there at the party than in here.”

You weren’t exactly the life of the party right now. You wanted to be left alone, to wallow in self-pity at the shitty decisions you’ve made. You returned to New York with nothing to show–no job and certainly no boyfriend.

“Yeah, I probably would. But then I’ll be the one stuck with all the guilt when you pass out and choke to death on your own sick. You never did know when to stop.”

You scoffed. “Like you fucking care anyway. Two years and this is the first time I hear from you.”

“We agreed we wouldn’t keep in contact, remember? Too hard. Besides which, I found out you were going to be here from Tae. Could’ve told me yourself.”

“How could I have told you when you blocked me from every social media platform?”

Jimin shrugged. “What did you expect me to do? ‘Like’ every photo of you living your best life without me?”

You were kind of glad Jimin blocked you from all social media because then he’d be liking complete lies about your life. “Well, I’m not dying, so can you just leave me alone? I don’t want to be around anyone.”

“It’s New Year’s Eve, y/n. You’re back here–with everyone–for the first time in two years, and you suddenly don’t want to be around any of us? Too good for us now, are you? Too good for New York?”

You looked away from Jimin, biting down on your lip. If you continued to look at the expression on his face, you were sure tears would begin to fall. The building of lies upon lies - you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep it up, given that Jimin could always tell when you were lying.

“That’s hardly the case, Jimin.”

“Then what? Why the need to be alone on the biggest party night of the year?”

“Because I’m a fucking loser! A fucking fraud! That’s why I deserve to be alone! I have nothing to celebrate this new year!” The alcohol makes you speak truthfully because what is the point anymore? All of your friends would soon wonder why you were still around, Jimin too.

“What about your big movie?”

“There is no fucking movie! And don’t pretend you don’t already know that! Taehyung told me you’re not in the ABT, so I assume he told you the truth about me, too!” you exclaimed, out of breath. You definitely weren’t expecting this turn of events.

”Yeah, maybe he did, and maybe I did lie; can you really blame me? You coming back here for the first time since you left me, throwing your supposedly fan-fucking-tastic life in my face? And then it turns out it’s all fucking lies, and I come in here to check on you, and you have the fucking gall to treat me like shit? You think I’m going to feel sorry for you? Oh, boo hoo, your little plan didn’t work out? Well neither did mine, and I had to deal with it on my own because someone had fucking left me!”

If only he could see the steam fuming from your ears. “No one’s fucking asking you to feel sorry for me! And fuck you, Jimin. You weren’t the only one who was alone! I literally had no one out there! No one! So don’t you dare say anything to me. We both made the same choice.” 

“And it’s clearly worked out fucking brilliantly for both of us!”

“And you’re saying that’s my fault? That’s on me, is it?” 

“Yeah! I am saying that. This is on you! You broke this!”

“So what do you want from me then, Jimin? What the fuck do you want me to do about it?” 

“I want you to go back two years and not leave! I want you to fucking stay!” 

“Well, you got your fucking wish. I am staying! I’m back, and I’m staying now! So you’ve got what you want! Are you happy?!” your voice shaky, the tears building up on the verge of falling.

“No!”

You could tell he was at war with himself. He took a deep breath and put his hands on his head, pulling at his hair. He sighed a shaky breath and slumped on the bed next to you.

“What exactly did Tae tell you?”

You shrugged. “He didn’t say much. He just said you weren’t with ABT and then scolded me.” Sitting here and talking to Jimin felt like nothing had changed, but in reality, the circumstances of your relationship wouldn’t go back to how it used to be.

“I am not with ABT,” he said. “Not even close.”

Jimin sighed before kicking off his shoes, then he pulled down the back of one of his socks, lifting his foot on the bed. You looked down to find an inch-long scar on the outside of his ankle. You gasped, thinking about how painful it must have been for him.

“Y’know that little extra bone I had at my heel? Don’t have that anymore. That training program that I got into, that-” he stopped. “Turns out that training program was too much. All those little twinges turned into something a whole lot bigger, and then the pain got so bad, I couldn’t even...” He flexed his foot forward, pointing his toes. “They were good about it. I got to see some really good doctors, and, I mean, technically, the problem is fixed.” He rotated his ankle around first one way and then the other as if to demonstrate. “But I was in a cast for a week, then in physio for eight weeks, and, even at that point, it was too late. Full recovery took almost six months. I was already too old to have been off my feet so long; that program was kind of my last chance. And I couldn’t finish it.”

You’re not sure what prompted you, but you reached out, your index finger softly tracing the raised mark on his ankle, stomach fluttering at the simplest touch of his skin. The thought of Jimin going through all of this alone made you feel even worse than you already did. You had left him heartbroken while chasing your dream when he was here, chasing his - only to find he wasn’t able to achieve everything he wanted.

You pulled your hand back, tucking it underneath your thigh, and cleared your throat. “I’m sorry. I wish I had known what you were going through.” All the guilt from the breakup and your leaving was beginning to seep back in. “It must have been hard on you,” you mumbled, quickly peering at him.

“It wa-” Jimin paused before clearing his throat. “Yes,” he said quietly. “It was.”

You slumped over, thinking about the last two years without him. Both of you were hurting without the other knowing to an extent. And Jimin…not being able to do what he truly loved pained you more than your stupid little dream of writing. You could do that whenever, wherever you wanted, but Jimin wouldn’t be able to go back in time and try again.

“I’m uh,” you paused to sniffle, “I’m moving back to New York for good. Gonna be with my parents for a bit while I get everything settled and figure out the next steps. LA was a complete bust. The dream job I left for was the same thing I was doing here.” You shifted back on the bed, then stretched your legs before settling them again. “There’s no big movie, no Lin-Manuel Miranda. I don’t know who I was kidding trying to lie my way out of this,” you chuckled sadly, “Pretty lame, huh? I left you and have nothing to show for it.”

There was a silence that settled between the two of you. You chuckled to yourself, thinking about how lame each of your lies was. And what did they achieve? Nothing really, and it was just a way to feel good about yourself, even if just for a split second.

Out of nowhere, his hand was on top of yours. You stared at the familiar hand, remembering how you’d always tease him about the duality of his hands. One minute they’re cute, soft, and stubby; the next, they’re confident, cunning, and unyielding. Your body felt warm, humming with excitement when he softly caressed the back of your hand. As much as you wanted your hand underneath the warmth of his, you didn’t forget that he was seeing someone. You didn’t want your hands to linger longer than they already did for fear of never wanting to let go again.

"Jimin…" you breathed, his name barely audible. He might not have heard you if he wasn't so close to you. His plush rose-tinted lips looked delectable - you were fighting every fiber of your being, not wanting to lean in and remember what they tasted like. Your skin is hot just thinking about what that mouth of his could do to you. Maybe press kisses along your jaw, your neck, and down the top of your chest. Possibly nibble on your earlobe and whisper something he’d like to do to you. He loved teasing you until you were squirming under him, and you wondered if he did that with this new person.

You didn’t know if Jimin was the only one struggling, but your heart began racing as he moved closer. You wondered if he was also fighting the same urge as you.

It’s been a long time since you had been anywhere near Jimin, let alone almost kissing him. Your eyes flicked to his before dropping to his lips, and your breathing slowed. It was as if time had stopped specifically for you and Jimin, waiting to see what the next move would be. Honestly, you’d be tearing his clothes off now if it weren’t for the fact that he was seeing someone else. You let out a breath, closing the distance, forehead gently bumping into his, your hand resting on his toned pecs.

Then the door swung open.

“Oh! Whoa! Oh, no, no. Ok. Back out! Back out!”

Tae swung in, leaning heavily on the door handle and, upon seeing the two of you in such close proximity, swung immediately back out again, slopping half the contents of his cup on the floor in the process, shooing away whichever lucky person was about to follow him in.

But it was enough. You both jumped, Jimin’s hand lifting off yours, both shifting away from each other. He laughed shakily, ran a hand through his hair. 

“As much as I want to kiss you right now, I’d hate myself for it tomorrow,” you insisted before pulling away from him. Even though you had more than enough to drink tonight, this conversation with Jimin awakened you from fantasy land. The two of you were a complete mess, lying to one another about each other’s lives. You couldn’t bear the thought of whomever he was seeing finding out that he had kissed an ex-girlfriend while they weren’t around. Ugh, the idea made you feel sick–or maybe it was the alcohol.

You stood on your feet, a little wobbly like Bambi on ice, which warranted Jimin’s hands ready to catch you, but you assured him you were okay. You pulled down your skirt, which hiked up underneath your ass cheeks. You berated yourself, walking toward the door. Wondering who you thought you were, coming to this party as a big shot when in reality, you were nothing but a fake, a fraud who deserved nothing else than to be alone in this new year.

You turned around, taking one last look at Jimin, who hadn’t taken his eyes off you since he first saw you earlier tonight. Lifting your hand to wave, telling him, See you later, Jimin. Even though you knew it was another lie. You couldn’t bear to see him with someone else, let alone have their hands all over him. It would be too much for you.

“No! Don’t!”

He was on his feet, crossing the distance to you in two large steps. He placed one hand against the door and the other on your waist.

“Please don’t go.” He floundered, starting sentence after sentence with nothing to follow. “Please, just stay.”

“What about your girlfriend?”

“She’s not my girlfriend; it’s not that serious.”

You chuckled, wondering if he was lying to himself. “Yeah?” you asked, cocking your eyebrow, “What are we doing then? What is this? Are you saying you want to get back together, or is this just because we’re both pathetic and miserable and drunk?”

“We might be pathetic and miserable and drunk, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t anything between us; you were the love of my life. You can’t just say we’re nothing to each other now. I know I’m not the only one who feels it. It’s still there. And I don’t want to be your friend.”

It’s true. How could you ever go back to being just friends with Jimin?

If the two of you were to continue what you had before, you feared you’d hurt Jimin again. But what if next time, it was him who left you? You weren’t sure if you could handle another heartbreak.

Your heart leaped when you heard the crowd roar echoing down the hall and into the room, the countdown to midnight in full swing. Fireworks glowed bright hues of white and yellow, illuminating Jimin’s face. More cheers and singing repeated as everyone rang in the new year.

The big question was, how would the two of you go forward now?

As Jimin caged you in against the door, your hands settled on his shirt, fingers curling into a fist, your body fighting every cell not to give in. You leaned in, nose brushed against his, lips faintly touching.

“Call me tomorrow when we’re both sober.”

Then you slipped out of his grasp and were gone.

[anattemptatmeaning]

You're the Only Friend I Need a Trobed fic

Author's Notes: Wow I have been very inactive and I'm also going on vacation so I rushed to finish this, I'll beautify this post along with my BT fanfic later. I saw this beautiful Trobed artwork on Tumblr by @greatredangel and it made me think of the song Ribs by Lorde. Then I visualized them dancing at a bar to the song while Abed is having bittersweet thoughts. It became this. Hope y'all enjoy Troy and Abed in a ba-ar! Again?

Also I just realized really late that Ribs was released three years after Mixology Certification aired but oh well, I love the song and I try meta-referencing my misstep in the fic lmao. Comment and feedback is well-appreciated! This is my first time writing Community fanfic and I hope I didn't screw up, especially with writing Abed. He's the best. They're all just the best, I love this show so much. Comments and feedback are appreciated! This whole thing is just wholesome romantic fluff with very light angst that gets resolved anyway, no trigger warnings! This made me so happy to write!

The Trobed artwork that inspired this: https://www.tumblr.com/greatredangel/751692320042287104/youre-the-only-one-who-understands?source=share

Ribs by Lorde (which I encourage you to listen while reading): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b7pE8AG1jjE

My Trobed companion playlist for this fic: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4IgAlyGazQxVwHcmZyIdah

Someone stormed away.

That’s how it always happened.

Abed didn’t choose to have more interest in dissecting the implications of Farscape being an influence on the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the ragtag character dynamics of the crew of the Moya , or the suspicion that Greendale was headed in a similar direction to the fourth season which, frankly, he might have preferred to get interrupted before speaking about.

Not that he had a choice. One of the few people who understood his references was interested in something more…carnal. 

But Abed knew what he liked, what he thought, what he was good at. And being straightforward with it, absorbing and deconstructing every little detail? 

It was what passion was. At least for him.

The inner workings of bumbling off-duty patrons drowning their daily sorrows into looking to score, on the other hand? Not at all. 

He did see it coming. He was all but waiting for the rejection. But it was fun talking about Farscape .

While it lasted.

Nevertheless, it was Monday. And as expected, he was just fine. It was an odd night.

His thoughts turned to Troy. With the study group more amped up than usual due to the alcohol, he realized Troy got left alone due to the ensuing drama. 

Thus ruining his birthday.

“Hey, Troy?” 

Troy looked at him. Abed felt that rush of energy that always came whenever he did. “Yeah, Abed?” It was cliche, but the birthday surprise trope was still a classic. “There’s something I forgot to give you for your birthday. Happy belated birthday, by the way.”

A surprised smile lit up Troy’s face. “Really? This is too much, man. I’m still losing it over Kickpuncher.”

“I figured. With the abundance of alcohol in the study group, perhaps an easygoing, intimate night out on the town as Troy and Abed should make for a nicer birthday. Shall we?”

Troy clapped his hands. “Let’s roll.”

They did the handshake. Their handshake.

Abed was not a driver.

He legally was, but avoided it unless it was an occasion where he absolutely had, or even more rarely, wanted to.

This was one such occasion.  

“No way, is this the same bar?” Troy gaped slightly, moving forward in his seat as he recognized Flannahan’s Hole.

“The second chance trope is a bit stale, but a well-done redemption arc works wonders,” Abed confirmed as he parked the car.

Troy laughed as he and Abed got out and headed inside. It looked exactly the same as it did on Troy’s birthday: just like any other bar, albeit apparently the least offensive of them if Jeff and Britta’s word was anything to go by.

To Abed’s relief though, the man from earlier wasn’t there.

“Abed?” Troy asked. Abed immediately recognized his hesitating tone, and felt something akin to a pang in his heart.

“Troy?” Abed knew he talked quickly, but his response was a bit faster and more urgent than usual. If Troy was nervous or on edge, Abed might as well have ruined another birthday for him.

“I…don’t really want to drink,” Troy began, taking a breath and looking to the ground, gathering his thoughts. Then Troy locked eyes with him.

Momentarily, nothing existed except Troy.

“When I was ordering my drink, I…I saw how out of it everyone was, staring off into space, not able to feel much of anything, not able to do much of anything…we just didn’t look happy.” Troy’s tone was candid, kind, mournful, his usual cheerful energy replaced by a more careful, concerned tone. 

“So, I didn’t drink. I got everyone and drove us home.”

Abed remembered that as the other members of the study group were drowning figuratively or literally in their personal misery, Troy was the one to bring them back together. 

“Sorry,” Troy said with a bit of uncertainty, embarrassed when he shouldn’t have to feel bad because Abed reminded him of a day he had to hold everyone else together.

When Troy deserved one where the roles were reversed.

Abed swallowed. He wanted to say only the best possible words.

“Me neither, honestly,” he started. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. It’s your birthday.”

Troy smiled, the previous moment forgotten. “Thanks, Abed.”

A new song started playing overhead in the bar. Abed squinted his eyes slightly. 

The drink you spilt all over me…

He undoubtedly knew movies better than music, but the song felt out of place for some reason. Was it a continuity error? He hadn’t heard it on the radio before. Weird. 

My mom and dad let me stay home…

“Do you want to dance?” Troy’s question shook Abed out of his thoughts, and he looked at Troy, calm yet eager about his suggestion. Abed couldn’t help but oblige, and the song piqued his interest the longer he listened to it.

”Sure.”

How you wish it would be all the time…

There wasn’t a whole lot of space within the bar, so Abed and Troy just moved close to a few empty seats. Unlike some of their choreographed or improvised dance routines which were occasionally elaborate, they kept it simple due to the nature of the event, and the difference this particular song had from their usual background music.

It drives you crazy getting old…

Abed was coolly and steadily hopping up and down, raising his left, then right leg to the beat. Troy took to clapping to the beat as he got into the song. 

Abed didn’t have many great memories as a kid.

This dream isn't feeling sweet, we're reeling through the midnight streets…

But right here, right now, dancing alone with Troy, he knew.

This. This was what childhood was supposed to be.

Doing whatever you felt like doing, not worrying about anything else, just having fun.

So what if he was only truly living it right now, as a film student in the most chaotic community college in the world?

He was living it. And for however long it would last?

It feels so scary, getting old....

He would enjoy it.

Abed hadn’t realized he had his eyes closed the whole time since he started dancing until he opened them to look straight at Troy.

Everything else went still.

Troy had a smile of pure ecstasy and euphoria and was moving completely of his own accord, not trying to impress, not having to try anything , just…dancing, and enjoying it.

We can talk it so good, we can make it so divine…

His hips swayed perfectly as he bounced to the beat, his knees smoothly kicking out as he bobbed up and down, not breaking a sweat. His head twisted from side to side, carefree and peaceful. He moved his elbows and hands up and down rhythmically with ease. And of course, that smile.

Has Abed seen Troy dance before? Many times.

But none so picturesque as this exact moment.

Then Troy opened his eyes. If things were still before, it wasn’t comparable to this.

I want ‘em back, I want ‘em back, the minds we had, the minds we had…

Troy’s eyes were a bit more serious, curious, and earnest. He stepped closer to Abed, still perfectly on beat.

How all the thoughts, how all the thoughts, moved ‘round our heads, moved ‘round our heads…

Abed was still slightly moving his legs to the beat, but he was focused on stepping as close as Troy saw fit.

I want ‘em back, I want ‘em back, the minds we had, the minds we had…

They kept moving closer. They didn’t notice the bar patrons staring.

It’s not enough to feel the lack, I want ‘em back, I want ‘em back, I want ‘em!

And their lips touched. Their eyes closed as they danced more slowly now, their arms now touching each other. Supporting each other.

He’d never let him fall.

You’re the only friend I need, sharing beds like little kids…

They just stayed there, now only slowly moving from side to side once every measure of the song, their grip on each other soft not to overwhelm, but steady, never to let the other go.

And laughing till our ribs get tough, but that will never be enough… “YEAH!” yelled people in the background as applause and cheers were heard, the first time he had focused on the outside world in a bit. Abed rarely ever had applause and cheers for him, neither did he seek it, but in this specific moment, it invigorated him. It did the same for Troy, as they briefly removed their lips to take a breath before diving back in, emboldened.

You’re the only friend I need, sharing beds like little kids…

Troy and Abed released each other, parting with powerful, slow breaths. Troy was staring with him, those same earnest eyes, but with total adoration and awe.

Based on his expression, Abed knew he shared the equivalent facial expression.

And laughing till our ribs get tough, but that will never be enough... “Good enough?” Abed asked Troy at the song’s end. Speaking to him was always comforting, but it felt like it had escalated to a whole new level now.

“Never better,” Troy answered in the most angelic, warmest tone Abed had ever heard.

They basked in the joy of the rest of the bar, all of them happy for them, for Troy and Abed. Troy laughed, equal parts blushing and grateful. Abed nodded at them in equally thankful acknowledgement. 

As they walked out, Abed caught the eye of the guy from earlier. He must have come in after them.

Compared to his more irritable, sour impression upon their first meeting, the bar guy was glad, sincere. He had a gentle, knowing smile. There were a variety of meanings he could derive from his face. First of all, he felt bad for his behavior during the last meeting. Secondly, he was happy for him and Abed. 

“Hey, I see you're going through stuff, and I'm sorry I didn't see that earlier,” the bar guy started a bit awkwardly. Then he seemed to be emboldened himself as well. “But I get it now, and I'm happy for you. For the both of you."

It was validating, to say the least. 

“Thank you,” Abed responded. “It was a better night.”

“I can see,” the bar guy giggled, looking at the two a bit sheepishly. “Okay, okay, we get it,” Troy was trying like mad to calm down, but he was clearly bashful.

As Abed drove the two away from the bar, they were quiet for a long time, processing the moment they just had.

Troy broke the silence first.

“Abed…is it okay if I want more moments like that?”

Abed had never felt so at peace in his life.

“I was going to ask the same thing,” he said in a soft tone he didn’t even know he was capable of.

Troy beamed yet again, and initiated their running gag. Abed immediately caught on. “Troy and Abed to-ge-ther!”

[the---hermit]

Garden gnome diary

This is just a random list of thoughts, tips and things I am learning as I am keeping a vegetable garden for the first time. I thought it would be fun to write down some things, and maybe what I learn can be useful for others too? I do have a bit of experience gardening, but I only even had herbs that don't need as much attention as a veggie garden does. At the moment my veggie garden has been up for a couple of months more or less, the weather hasn't been kind this year since it's been raining most days for the past few months. I'll probably make more posts like this and random updates in the future.

Starting small is always the best option. This year i decided to plan tomatoes, zucchini and some salad, and after the salad I planted will been eaten I won't plant any more because it was a failure. The combo of heavy rain and slugs has not been kind to it, so I decided that my energies for this year will be focused on the other veggies and that's okay. It's not something I can focus on full time, so having fewer plants to look after is good for me to learn. create habits and not feel overwhelmed.

No matter how little you plan to stay in the garden, or how small the task you will get dirt on yourself, so dress accordingly.

On the same note, having comfortable clothes that you are okay with getting dirty is a game changer. I have a pair of old shoes I don't really wear out anymore so those have become my gardening shoes. And most importantly I have a pair of trousers with lots of pockets that have become my gardening uniform. They are super comfortable, they are light so even if it's very hot I am not suffering too much and I still get total coverage so I can sit down, and avoid as many mosquito and other insects bites as I can.

Moreover I know summer is hot and the temptation to wear a sleaveless top is there, but the more skin is out the more bites you get, so for the love of god wear a baggy tshirt (note made by someone will regret wearing a tank top in the garden for the next week)

Also a pair of well fitted garden gloves is necessary and will become your absolute best friend. I always struggled to find gloves that were small enough for my hands, and when this year I finally did it made everything so much better.

Cleaning out the weeds that grow around the veggies you have planted makes up for most of the job. It's very annoying especially because they grow so quickly and take so much time to clean up. I recommend having an audiobook or a nice playlist on while doing this job because it really makes the time fly. Having a bucket or something to put them as you are plucking them will save a lot of time.

Also since you often have to pluck the weeds out by hand in between the plants find a comfortable position. Sit down, however you are most comfortable, because it will take so much time and you cannot afford to give yourself backpains just because you didn't want to get dirt on your trousers. I somethings almost lie on the ground because it's comfortable and I don't care if my neighbor sees me looking like an idiot half laying in the dirt. I accept myself as a creature of the garden and I couldn't care less if others think I'm weird.

The real enemy is not the weeds (tho they are so annoying) it's slugs. Keeping the garden clean of weeds and everything makes it easier to spot them, but especially when it's been rainy I recommend looking around, under plants and all and remove the little bastards before they ruin everything. I live near the woods so i just gather all the slugs and leave them in the woods near my house in the hopes that some hedgehogs will eat them.

Related to that I have been trying to get hedgehogs to move in/near my garden for a while. Last year I saw a few nearby so I am keeping it up, but leaving a couple of small pile of leaves and weeds (yep that's where all the weeds go) so they can sleep under there if they want to. And I also leave out the snails for them.

I finally understand why the steretypical old man with a garden is so grumpy, and it's all because of the snails trying to eat my salad, and the behated cats the people living nearby leave out that think my garden is their toilet. If you listen closely you can probably hear me curse like a sailor about that.

Writing down on a calendar when it rained and when you watered your plants is going to make things so much easier. I have terrible memory, my brain cannot remember these things.

If you have to build some sort of supportive structure like I did for the tomatoes, for the love of god find ways to make the edges of the structure as safe as possible. I am so clumsy and if it weren't for the precautions I built in the structure and the fact that I am always wearing a baseball hat I would have hurt myself so many times. The baseball hat basically just hits things before I do, or before I accidentally stab myself in the eye with something, because I am a fool and I will walk into stuff.

I don't think this is necessary but here goes nothing, for the love of god wear sun protection.

[thedelicatearcher]

From your little swiftie!finnick post:

Yk he serenades you when he can on the piano; his personal favorites being Daylight, New Year's Day, You Are In Love, and Timeless

(Fun fact: First time I heard You Are In Love, I bawled my eyes out when I got to the "'you're my best friend'/and you knew what it was/he is in love" part & it quickly got locked in at my top 3 bonus track song to ever exist)

Loves to sing her duet songs (9 out of 10 times, he's singing tay's part—) & he loves dancing around with u and spinning around & having fun (especially if the song in question is ME! & yeah, he always does the "hey kids, spelling is fun" no matter what)

I think the Era of Taylor he listens to depends solely on his mood & what he's doing. Fishing? Oh, he's listening to a FolkMore playlist. Chores? Pop!Taylor.

~~~

I dunno, I just love swiftie!finnick headcannons

oh i love these headcannons so much😭😭😭 thank you for sharing them!!!

i 100% agree with finnick serenading you on the piano. he is a loverboy at heart and the first thing he did when he got his piano was to learn the most romantic taylor songs to play them for you. he also likes to sing them to you when you are lying on bed together all cuddled up killing time. he sings fearless to you as he strokes your hair.

him singing the taylor's part during your duets 😭😭😭 that reminded me of that tweet of a girl saying she did shallow on karaoke with a man and she had to be bradley cooper. but you're so right. you're singing exile? you're definitely singing the bon iver parts. you're singing the last time? he's dramatically acting taylor's part.

he has to listen to songs that describe his current situation, he has many different taylor playlists. when he bickered with katniss over something meaningless he made a playlist called 'feud' with songs like bad blood, karma and thank you aimee. in your anniversary, he made one with your name that had lover, invisible string, daylight, and more.

also, his favorite songs to sing them to you!!! yes!!! he is a loverboy and a cheesy romantic man, he loves love and loves every single song about love that exists. he adores singing with you and jumping and dancing around too <3

[cainnleacghlovers]

Stupid Chilly - MM

Pairing: Mason amount X Fem!Reader

Summary: The famous Ben Chilwell throws a party. What happens when a specific boy catches your eye.

Warnings: Smut

“Noooooo. Don’t make me go. Pleaseeeeee.”

You did want to go, really, but that time between when you finished getting ready and heading out the door had settled in, and the thought of taking off your slippers, and replacing them with your heels made you shudder.

“I didn’t let you use my charlotte tilbury foundation for you to not go.” Your best friend stated. Hands on her hips as she looked you up and down. You lay on the floor, in a star fish position. She bent down to help you up, and you graciously accepted. She handed you your heels, and you nodded in thanks.

How could you describe Ben Chilwell. He was definitely a character. He bordered the line of his jokes being offensive, and he most definitely crossed the line of not knowing when to just, well how could you say this? Shut his mouth.

You’d known Ben ages, well 2 years. You’d met him after a dramatic sprint in the rain to your car, your Uni books slightly blurring your vision. You couldn’t find your car keys, and deciding that wet hair was better than wet course work, you gave up. He was driving past, and like a gentleman stuck his head out the window, asking if you wanted to sit in his car. Looking back, that was probably a bad idea, but you’d grown to love the boy. And your best friend had definitely grown to love him.

Heels were strapped, and lipstick had been reapplied. Taking a few selfies in the mirror, and quickly adding them to your story, you and your best friend headed out the door. Ben only lived a short distance from you, and you two had just decided to walk. Broke Uni students could not afford taxis.

It was a mild evening in April. Not warm, not cold.

“Do you think Ben actually likes me. Or does he just like my tits?” Abbie said. You couldn’t help but laugh at her. Abbie was the sort of girl who fell in love after one glance. You knew Ben, and you knew what he was like.

“Abbie. Ab. My bestest friend in the whole wide world-”

“Cut the crap. Just tell me.” She said, her words harsher than what she meant. You knew she didn’t mean it.

“As I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted.”

You laughed, giving her a light push. As much as she tried not to, she grinned too.

“Ah yes. Abbie. Ab. My bestest friend in the whole wide world. You my dear, are absolutely gorgeous, and if he doesn’t see that. What a fucking loss.”

She smiled. You two knew each other too well. You were grateful for her.

“You always know what to say.” She put her arm around your shoulder, and you relaxed into her. A comfortable silence fell between the both of you.

“Just letting you know, I so plan on getting laid tonight.” You grinned, earning a laugh from her.

“Same here babe. Same here.”

—

Some random song played, the beat echoing through your whole body as you headed into the kitchen for another drink of whatever Ben had concocted. What was it last time? Oh yes, Chelsea surprise as he called it. Vodka, Gin, and Whiskey all in one. Absolutely rank.

Pouring yourself a drink, you crowd watched. Something you often found yourself doing at parties. You liked her dress, hated his shoes, wanted to know her lip combo, man his shirt was tight. You scanned the crowd, sipping your drink as you watched. You didn’t realise a figure had swept in beside you.

“Yep they’ll definitely have makeup sex when they go home.” Said a voice. You jumped slightly, and turned to face this mysterious person. Recognising him, you two were mutals on Instagram. A like here and there.

Mason Mount. To quote Jack Grealish, ‘the greatest thing since sliced bread.’

“Jesus. Way to give someone a heart attack.” You scold, not really cross.

“And no. She’ll dump his ugly arse, and block him on everything. Including spotify. I forgot to block an ex one time on spotify. He made playlists called ‘Unblock me.’ I don’t know whether that was dedicated or just weird.”

You didn’t even realise you were talking his ear off, one ounce of alcohol and you seemed to tell everyone your deepest secrets.

“Has anyone ever told you, you talk some shite.” He laughed, swigging his drink. You admired the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed. There was a tinging between your legs. Shit.

He caught you looking and smirked.

“Like what you see darling.”

“Yeah Ben’s cabinet. It’s really nice. Top quality really.” You indicated to the kitchen cabinet behind him. He pretended to admire it, nodding and scratching his chin. Like it was some amazing art piece.

“It really is isn’t it. Simply divine.” You snorted at his comment, and covering your face in embarrassment.

“GCSE english all over again. Pigs from animal farm.” You joked, you were thankful he got the joke.

“Major was some lad wasn’t he.” He follows along with the joke, you liked that he didn’t embarrass you.

“He was the man. Or the pig.” He laughed, and the sensation came back again.

“So how’d you end up here? Not saying it’s a bad thing. I’m Mason by the way.” He introduced himself. You of course, already knew him. He didn’t have to know that though.

“Ben’s a friend. I’m Y/N.” He nodded as he listened to you. An active listener. Hmm. Nice.

“A pretty name for a pretty girl.” Anyone else who used that cliche, would have you bent over the toilet bowl in pure disgust, but the alcohol and the sheer fact, this man was hot, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“Well. This pretty girl with a pretty name wants to dance.” You stuck your hand out, and he went to grab it. You pulled away, winking at him. Play the game, or the game plays you. Mason being the game in this weird analogy.

“A teaser? I should’ve known Miss Y/L/N.” He smirked. So he knew who you were.

“Let’s see what those hips can do then Mason.”

He followed you onto the makeshift dance floor, in the middle of Bens living room. Sober you would’ve worried about the mess Ben would have to clean up, slightly tipsy you laughed at the mess Ben would have to clean up.

Somehow, Tammy Abraham got ahold of the aux, and that song from despicable me started playing. ‘Where them girls at.’ What a tune.

You began to sway your hips, probably out of time with the best. But who fucking cares what beats playing when Mason Mount had his hands on your hips in front of you. Tossing your hair around, you catch him staring at your chest.

“My eyes are up here Mason.” You chastise.

“I can stare at both, doesn’t bother me. Both are stunning.” That sentence doesn’t really make sense. But he’s tipsy, and he’s flirting with you. So keep talking rubbish Mason.

You two sway to the music, eventually ending with your bum having his crotch. You feel something press into your back, and smirk as you turn around. A new found confidence.

“Little Mason has made an appearance.”

He practically growled into your ear.

“Little Mason isn’t so little darling.” Butterflies erupted in your stomach, as you felt heat pool between your legs.

“Well. Let me be the judge of that.” He smirked.

“Gladly.”

—

Dragging you up the stairs, past who knows who making out on the stair case. Enjoy that back cramp in the morning babe. He checks one room, his hand not leaving yours, as he swings the door open, only to be met with a butt naked Ben Chilwell. Ass hanging in the hair like your mums washing line. Jesus, why is he so pale?

“Sorry man. Don’t let me disturb you.” Ben didn’t even hear Mason, as he shut the door. You wonder if the girl was Abbie, having not seen her downstairs. Probably was her.

He checks a second room, and finds it empty, and pulls you in. Slamming your body against the door handle, as he fumbles with the lock. His lips find yours, and you become dazed from the passion of his kiss. He bites your bottom lip, a way of saying ‘open that fucking mouth’ and who were you too decline?

You open your mouth, and he slides his tongue in. Exploring your mouth. You groan into his mouth, and you feel Little Mason, sorry, not so little Mason become even harder under you.

“Keeping moaning like that baby, and the whole house will know what I’m doing to you. Making you feel this good already.” You moan at his words, not used to someone talking to you like this. And god, you like it.

As his tongue continues to explore your mouth, his uses his knee to spread your legs, and puts his thigh in between them. Letting you use his thigh for leverage. And you needed it, his kiss making you weak. His hands left your hips, and found the back of your thighs, tapping them slightly. Signalling for you to jump. You obliged, and his large hands grubbed the back of your thighs. Your dress hiking up to expose even more skin to the boy.

His lips leave yours, as they find your neck. Moving up and down feverishly like he can’t get enough of you. Your hands find his hair, and you tug slightly on it, guiding him to where you want him. He find that sweet spot, just above your collar bone, and earns a groan from you.

“Fuck baby. You’re making me feel like i’m 16 again.”

He groaned into your neck, and your legs found the edge of Bens spare room. You’d slept in here, and now you were going to, well. Have sex with Mason in here.

Lying down, he climbed on top of you. And began to push the sleeves off your dress off of you. Looking at you for consent. You have him a nod, which he didn’t take.

“Gonna need you to be vocal with me baby. Tell me what you want, but tell me what you don’t want. Can you do that for me?”

Unable to answer him, you have him a nod.

“What’d I say about using words hmm? You going to be a baf girl. You know what we do to bad girls don’t you baby.”

Not wanting him to stop touching you, you breathed out a response.

“Yes Mason. Please keep going.” Pathetic that you’d resulted to begging, and he hadn’t even touched you properly yet.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it baby?” He shot a devilish grin at you, as he pushed your sleeves down. You shimmied out of your dress, it getting caught at your hips.

“Dress has to come off over the head.” You said.

He helped you get the dress off, struggling to get it over your head, you both laughed a little. As you lay there in front oh him, in your bra and pants, you cursed yourself for not wearing a matching set.

“So damn beautiful.” He whispered against your stomach, as he began to kiss up and down it. His hands rubbing your hips, and he worked his way to the top of your panties.

“It’s hardly fair that i’m half naked and you’re not.” You pouted, and he struggled out of his shirt.

“Happy now baby? Hmm?”

You moaned in appreciation, as he slipped his jean covered leg between yours. You rubbed yourself against his jeans, the rough fabric of the denim making you moan.

“So needy baby. Use my thigh hmm. Keep going doll. Just like that.”

As you continued to move again his thigh, he gave you another feverish kiss. Grabbing his hair, to pull him impossibly closer he moaned into your mouth. You wanted to record the sound, and never ever stop hearing it.

He moved his thigh, and before you could complain about the lack of contact. He slipped one finger in you, and began to move at a steady pace. Your hips bucked up against his, and your back arched to get, again, impossibly closer to him.

“Mason, p-please.”

“Please what baby. If you don’t ask, you don’t get.”

You groaned, knowing he wanted you to beg.

“Please Mason, a-another finger.”

“Another finger where baby? Your hair? Your arm? Your back?”

You groaned again, as he slowed his movements, and used his other hand to push your hips back into the bed.

“You know where.” You managed to get out, seeing stars at the pleasure this man was giving you.

“I don’t know actually.” He had you around his finger, well quite literally.

“Another finger here. P-please.” You moved his and into your throbbing pussy.

“That’s all you had to do. Wasn’t that easy?” He teased you, as he plunged another finger into you.

You moaned loudly, grabbing his bicep for support. You thought you were gonna pass out as he found your sweet spot. Hitting it perfectly every thrust of his hand. He curled his fingers in you, and your back moved off of the bed, as his chest met yours.

“Cum for me baby? Cum all around my fingers and show me how good I make you feel.” He whispered into your ear, and his lips found your neck. He definitely was going to leave a mark, having to find some sort of hack on tiktok to cover it. Newsflash, whisks. Do. Not. Work.

His thumb found your clit, as he moved a third finger inside you. Rubbing in a circular motion, you gave one last moan, and came all over his fingers.

He took his hand out, licking his fingers clean, not giving you anytime to catch your breath as he attacked your lips once again. You were gonna die. Imagine that on your gravestone. Cause of death, Mason Mounts legendary fingers.

You worked on the zip of his jeans, getting impatient when you couldn’t figure it out. Curse your foggy brain, from the way he made you cum.

“Let me help you darling.” The way he said darling made you moan out loud, earning a light chuckle from him, as he kicked off his jeans. That’s when you seen Little Mason, and little Mason was not little, at all. Wasting no time, he rid himself of his boxers, and threw them somewhere. Who knows where; who cares where.

You traced the line of his abs, to his v-line. Hearing his breath hitch as you got closer to his dick. You palmed him a few times, and he leant down to moan in your ear.

“Baby. God. If you keep doing that i’m not gonna last. W-wanna be inside your pretty pussy.”

You moaned at his words, moving your hand into his hair, and he lined himself up with your entrance.

“This okay?” He asked you, looking at you with his dark eyes. Pupils completely blown out.

“More than okay Mason.” That was all he needed, and he pushed inside you. Allowing you to adjust to his length, he lingered, before he pulled out.

“Shit. Condom.” He looked at you, waiting for your response.

“As long as you don’t have something that i’d have to explain to the doctor absolutely mortified. continue. please.”

He nodded, laughing slightly before pushing back into you. Both of you moaning into each others mouths.

He moved slowly, and he knew he had you like putty under him.

“Mason. P-please. Faster.” You’d be embarrassed in the morning when you remembered everything you said tonight, problem for another day.

He sped up, his hips moving into yours, as your hands found his hair, and his hands toyed with your bra.

He slid the straps down, and you took your hands out of his hair to remove the back. Your tits bounced free, and he wasted no time attaching his mouth to them. Licking the right nipple, as his hand toyed with the left one. Taking it between his fingers. You moaned into his mouth, breathing deeply into his. You smelt alcohol off of his, somehow you found this pleasant.

He moved his mouth to lick a strip down your breast canal, as his mouth found your left one, and his hand found your right one. Never had your boobs ever gotten this much attention. I’m sure they were loving it.

“You feel so fucking good inside me baby. Could do this all day. Wanna fuck this pussy all day.”

He moaned into your hair, your hips bucking as his pace increased. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“Uh no. I don’t think so doll. Keep those pretty eyes on me.” He made you look at him, your eyes meeting his dark, lust filled ones. Your eyes scanned where his dick slipped inside your soaking pussy.

“Mase. You feel so good.” You praised him.

“I know baby. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

You groaned at his words, not able to describe the pleasure he was giving you.

“Making me feel so good Mase. N-never felt like this before.”

He moaned at your words, obviously enjoying the praise.

“No dick has ever been as good as this one. And to think you called him Little Mason.”

He thrusted into you powerfully, and you felt that knot in your stomach again.

“Mase. I’m gonna cum.”

“I know you are baby. I can feel you clenching against me. Taking me well.” His hand moved from your hair, as he rubbed your clit, in the previous circular motion. That was enough, and your back arched off of the bed, as your orgasm washed over you. Your head slightly dizzy. The sight before him, was enough for Mason, and he pulled out of you, cumming all over your body.

He stayed on top of you, his hands at either side of your head as he looked down at you. Smiling. Giving you another kiss. But not like the ones before, this one was sweet.

He fell beside you, taking your hand in his as he rubbed circular motions on it. Bringing it to his mouth, and pressing a kiss against it.

“You look so pretty with my cum all over you.” He teased, giving you another kiss before getting up to find something to clean you with. Ben being on his way too big salary, of course had a walk in wardrobe on every room, so Mason nicked the towel, and cleaned you himself. Pressing kisses against all the spots were dark, purple bruises were forming.

“I didn’t hurt you, did i?” He looked at you worriedly. You simply shook your head, giving him another kiss.

“No. You were perfect.” He smiled, before throwing the towel somewhere on the floor. Lovely surprise for Ben in the morning.

He lay beside you, playing with a strand of your hair. Touching your hair made it greasy, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. A content sigh passed your lips.

“I gotta pee Mason.” You stated, knowing the importance of peeing after sex.

You got up, walking to the bathroom, and feeling a hand slap your arse.

“Hey!” You exclaimed, peeking your head outside the bathroom door:

“Sorry baby. Your arse is really slappable.” He threw you a wink, and as you finished your business in the bathroom, you lay beside him. He turned to face you.

“This was totally a one time thing, wasn’t it?” You asked him.

“Definitely.” He replied, you detected a hint of lies in his quiet voice. Tiredness, making him yawn. He snuggled into your side, and your hand found his chest.

You had a feeling this wasn’t going to be a one time thing. And you were more than okay with that.

First time writing smut. I refuse to reread this for mistakes because i’ll cringe and delete the whole thing🥰 anywho, hope you enjoyed! Leave your requests for me!