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brummiereader · 3 months

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MASTERLIST

Unchained Melody (Part One)

Summary: It had been almost two years since you had become overwhelmed by motherhood, fleeing from both your husband and son in attempts to escape the suffocating blanket of worries and self-doubt that had enveloped you. With a life now filled with poverty, you scrimp and save every shilling, every penny to make the costly weekly journey to catch a glimpse of your son from afar at the market. But your usual Sunday trip back to Birmingham suddenly turns your life upside down for a second time when you are unexpectedly faced with the presence of your husband and his refusal to let you do anything but return to Arrow house, back to him and your son.

Warnings: Language, angst, smut, mutual pining, postpartum depression

Word count: 4993

Authors Note: This series is inspired by another oldie but goldie, "Unchained Melody" by The Righteous Brothers. Tommy's feelings will be heavily influenced by the lyrics of this melodic and timeless song throughout the story. The song Y/N sings to William is an old British classic called "I do like to be beside the seaside" .

"Calling at Birmingham New Street ladies and gentlemen, Birmingham New Street " the ticket conductor shouted walking briskly along the carriageway, going from coach to coach announcing the last and final call. One year, seven months and fifteen days. You thought to yourself picking at the frayed upholstered chair you was sitting on as a single solemn tear slipped over the curve of your cheek down into your lap, escaping the pools of your eyes too quickly for you to brush away. Not now Y/N. Don't start. You scolded yourself, not wanting to bring your fellow passengers' attention to your escaping emotions as you let yourself sink into the guilt you had been keeping tightly against your chest for almost two years, keeping it hidden from the vicious judgment and critical eyes it was undoubtedly worthy of as you did every Sunday you made the journey back to Birmingham, every Sunday you desperately tried to get a glimpse of your son from afar. Brushing the steady flow of tears from your face, you turned your head to the window, wiping the condensation that had built up on the tempered glass to see your reflection staring back at you, cruelly forcing you to see what you had become. Ragged clothing, unkempt hair and chapped hands, reddened from the countless hours you had worked night and day laundering linen for people that resembled your former self. You were unrecognisable, a far cry from the woman you once were, the wife and mother you once were. Broken and beaten, you were barely getting by with the hand life had dealt you. How had it come to this?

Nineteen and half months ago...

"He's crying darling. Y/N?" Tommy said, walking into the nursery after a relentless day in the city to find you in the rocking chair, aimlessly looking out the window as your son wailed loudly in your arms. You were starting to worry him. He'd been so occupied trying to make things legitimate for his new family that the long days he had spent with his head buried in paperwork were slowly turning into long sleepless nights stuck within the four walls of his office. The birth of his son had ignited an unstoppable force within him to keep the two people he loved the most safe and away from the wickedness of the world he himself played a role in, all at the behest and advice of those around him. He just had one more thing to do, one more thing to finalise, then he would stop. He'd promised himself.

"Tommy..." You muttered, blankly looking up at him as he took William from within your hold, the sudden quietness from his father's comforting warm arms snapping you out of your trance-like state. "He's hungry" you said as you picked up the small brown bear among all the various necessities needed to care for a child of only four months. "He just...he won't feed properly. Won't settle" you huffed, internally blaming yourself as you wiped the front of your blouse, reaching for your son, then suddenly recalling, afraid if you took him he'd start crying again. Was it you that unsettled him?

"He dropped his bear love, that's all. Maybe getting some teeth as well, ey little man?" Tommy said, looking at William as he tried to diffuse the criticism you were undoubtedly burdening yourself with. "Hey, c'mere" Tommy sighed, pulling you into his arms, pressing his lips to the crown of your head as tears welled in your eyes. You were slowly drifting away from him, he could feel it. But with Tommy being a man true to his time, he felt powerless as to what to do, what to say. Stiff upper lip, keep calm and carry on. The British way...maybe the wrong way. You'd pull through, wouldn't you? "We'll fetch him some warm cow's milk or a wet nurse, so you can get some sleep"

"No. No Tommy!" You angered quickly at the mere suggestion of anyone but you feeding your son, determined to battle through whatever it was that had a grasp on you without aid. "You think I'm a bad mum, don't you? You think I can't look after him?" you sobbed, your temper and fatigue spilling over into an angry display of pointing fingers and high emotions. You knew you were being unfair, you just...you couldn't help it. You needed an outlet for your mounting frustration, and unfortunately for Tommy he had the unlucky pleasure of being at the receiving end of it.

"Darling, I never said..." Tommy huffed, before you took your son back into your arms and your position in the rocking chair, your eyes fixing on a small light in the distance beyond the grounds of Arrow House as Williams bottom lip wobbled and his whimpers resumed. What would he do without you? Tommy reflected, a sudden feeling of guilt washing over him for all the nights he had spent away as he watched you in admiration, humming a soothing tune to his son, your fingers stroking gently over the curve of his ear and massaging the soft cushioned lobe until his cries quietened and he fell asleep. You were just tired, the small surprise weekend away in Blackpool he had planned in a few days time for the three of you would see an end to your worries. Sea air and sandy beaches, just what any doctor would order. Then he'd stop, he'd try harder. He'd promised himself.

" Fuck baby...you feel so good" Tommy moaned against your ear, his labored breath hot against your skin. "Let me make you feel good eh?" He said breathlessly, sliding his finger down between you both as he pressed on the small bundle of nerves swollen from his thrusts. Just relax. You told yourself. And for the love of god, stop fucking thinking too much. You berated yourself once again as you closed your eyes, a feeling of guilt pooling in your stomach from the little attention and affection you had given your husband since the birth of your son. One month since you were last intimate, one full month since you had let him get close to you. Had he been with someone else? Your brain quickly panicked at the thought of him with another woman when a hard thrust from Tommy had you moaning into his shoulder, your hands threading through his soft hair as he kissed down your neck sending a ripple of goosebumps over your body.

"Wait...Tommy not there" you pulled his head up as his tongue swiped over your nipple. "Shit" you huffed as a trickle of milk flowed down your cleavage whilst you frantically scrambled for the freshly laundered sheets to wipe away your embarrassment.

"Y/N, darling, it's ok" Tommy chuckled, kissing tenderly around your swollen breast as he rocked his hips into you, his thrusts suddenly intensifying when his eyes darted down to between you both. "Stop. Let me see you" he said, pushing your self-conscious hands away from shielding your stomach from the small scars you bared from nine months of carrying his child. " Fuck sweetheart...look at you" He moaned watching himself drive in and out of you, his wet length glistening, the sight sending a surge of pleasure through his throbbing cock. He's so into it. Why? Was he just saying these things, was he thinking of another woman? Your mind plagued you as you reluctantly kept your hands by your side. You felt like shit, looked worse than shit. That and your mind was elsewhere, to a never ending timetable of feeds and nappy changes you seemed incapable of getting right. As the room filled with the moans of your husband and the sound of his body basking in the awaited comfort of you he'd been patiently longing for, your eyes drifted over his lean shoulders to your suitcase covered by the netted curtains of your grand bedroom window. With the sudden fear that you had already made your decision, you turned your head to your husband, crashing your lips onto his as you held tightly onto his broad frame. Would this be the last time? The last time you felt the weight of his body on top of yours?

"Tommy..." you whimpered, a tear falling down the side of your cheek, desperate to tell him how much you were struggling as he gasped at your sudden eagerness, unaware of your inner turmoil in the throes of his own pleasure as a surge of electricity fueled by adoration pumped through his body, his imminent high quickly approaching. With every part of you clutching onto him, tightly clenching you both to a daze of heightened arousal, you let go, loudly crying your husband's name.

" Fuck...i'm gonna, Y/N I'm..." Tommy moaned incoherently into the curve of your neck as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thigh and his hips came to a sudden stop, releasing the built up tension he had been desperate to be rid of inside the tight warmth of your body with a shaky groan leaving his lips. "We've still got it eh?" Tommy chuckled breathlessly moments later as he settled down beside you, pulling you into his strong hold.

"Still" you replied quietly as you turned your head to look at him." I love you" you said longingly, your voice catching in your throat as you buried your face into his chest, hiding the shame in your eyes of the choice you knew you had made.

" I love you too. Y/N what's..." He said, tilting your chin up to look at him, cutting his words off and what he really wanted to ask, as the glazed over look in your eyes sent an uncomfortable heavy feeling of worry to the pit of his stomach. The far-away look in your eyes frightening him more than any enemy he had ever come up against. You were just tired, he'd call Polly tomorrow morning to come and help you with the baby. Tommy reassured himself as he held you tightly in his arms, his hand cupping the side of your head as he pressed a yearning kiss to your temple. This weekend would fix everything.

" Y/N...baby's crying..." Tommy mumbled half asleep as he rolled over, so used to you being the first to bolt up and hurry to your sons' whimpers. A dairy cow in human form, a living comforter to aid your son to sleep. You couldn't help but feel as you rubbed the fatigue from your dry eyes, another surge of guilt hurtling your way for thinking such things.

"Shhh darling, mummy's here" you said flatly as you approached his bassinet, picking him up and cradling him in your arms. "Please William, please stop crying. I'm so tired, I'm..." you sobbed, caressing his soft skin as you placed the tip of your finger to his mouth for him to suckle on. "What do I do? Help me William" you cried quietly in desperation, rocking him back and forth in your arms as you looked up at the ceiling, tears streaming down your face, your mind absent from the fact you were doing it, you were doing everything any mother would do in an attempt to soothe their child. Why couldn't you see it? "I don't know what's wrong with me" you sobbed to yourself, sniffing away the tears as you looked down at your son, his finger holding tightly onto yours as Frances the housekeeper listened outside the nursery door, her hand firmly enclosed around the handle, every part of her wanting to enter and magic your distress away. The thousand yard stare, they called it. She had seen it with her sister after the birth of her niece and then she saw it with you, the moment Tommy returned to work, popping your little bubble of the three of you lying in bed blissfully happy within the comfort of one another. She'd talk to Tommy in the morning. She promised herself as she backed away from the door, and back to her duties. She promised.

"Oh I do like to be beside...the seaside. Oh I do like to be beside the sea" you sang quietly, your bottom lip wobbling with each passing word. "I love you, I love you so much" you cried as you placed your son back into his cot, pulling out your handkerchief with your name embroidered delicately in the center for him to hold, hoping the scent of you engraved into the light fabric would comfort him in your absence." I'm sorry William, I...I can't be the mother you need " you sobbed as his little fingers clutched around the small piece of cotton. "Daddy will look after you, better than I can" you said as you bent down, placing a tender kiss to his head. "I just need a little break, a small one. I'll be back, I promise" Your voice broke, tears streaming down your cheeks as you gently glided your finger over his ear, caressing his soft skin and gently lulling him into sweet dreams and slumber. "Goodbye my love, my sweet, sweet boy" you cried, turning to the door and shutting it as a searing pain shot through your chest, through your shattered heart and the unbreakable bond a mother shares with her child, tearing and fraying from what you was about to do. Would you ever be able to come back from this?

"Come back to bed darling..." Tommy mumbled as you stood beside him, running your hands through the top of his hair, a quiet moan escaping his lips in response to your gentle touch as he lazily reached for your hand before his weighted eyes and tired body drifted him back into a heavy sleep.

"Soon Tommy..." You replied, muffling your sobs as you picked up your suitcase and turned to the door, glancing back one last time to your husband, to the love of your life. Meters away, it may as well have been miles. You thought to yourself as you came to the end of the long driveway of your home when the light of your son's bedroom suddenly turned on in the far distance and the loud call of your name from the depths of your husband's lungs resonated throughout the grounds. There was no going back now, it was done. They were better off without you.

Present day...

"Fuck sake" you mumbled quietly, hiding your face in your shoulder as you frantically wiped your tears away from the memory of the night when you abandoned your family and your former self. As you cursed yourself for being being so weak, so feeble, the small girl seated opposite you scrunched her brow in confusion, her little thoughts plagued with worry as to what had you so upset, as her mother, who looked as tired and weighed down with her own misgivings, sent you a sympathetic knowing smile.

"Hardly the time and place to let one's emotions get the better of them, this is public transport not a woman's bloody wash house" a man seated next to you clothed in the finest of suits grumbled rolling his eyes, begrudging the fact the train was not divided by class when the engine suddenly came to a stop and the mother ushered her daughter out of the carriage giving the gentleman a stern look, all while her daughter conveniently stepped onto, rather than other the pompous man's foot dirtying his perfectly polished loathers. "The little..." He spat as he folded his newspaper in half, turning to face you as if you had a role in the small girls worthy retribution. "Thiefs, whores and murderers. What would one except from this dump they call the second-biggest city in England" he seethed looking at you from head to toe as you stood to leave when he crassly stuck his foot out, causing you to fall face first onto the grimy train floor as a satisfied scoff left his lips. You were nothing to him, a beggar, the scum of the slums of the city he reluctantly found himself in. With no will or want to confront him about what you believe you undoubtedly deserved, you stood up, wiping the front of your dress down and adjusting your hat with only one thing on your mind...your son.

" Excuse me...please, excuse me" you said, pushing your way through the bustling market. You were already late, and with only the briefest of opportunities to get a glimpse of your child until another full seven days passed, and he made his Sunday outing with Frances again, you were desperate to see him. Standing by a stall filled with seasonal fresh fruits and juices you adjusted your woven hat, pushing the knotted strands of hair behind your ears in attempt to make yourself look proper, more presentable. Who were you kidding, you were but a ghost in a crowd full of people. Your disheveled appearance your only shield and cover from any potential sightings of yourself that could be relayed back to your husband. If he cared to know. You thought to yourself as you raised your head, your breath suddenly catching in your throat. There he was, your William. Watching from a distance, you followed his small wobbly steps, his hand holding tightly onto France's as the sun beamed down on them, heading with determination to the market stall he made a beeline for every Sunday. Perching yourself on a large wooden barrel next to a shelf of neatly stacked bottles of cider, you smiled as your shaky fingers came up to cover the joy on your lips as your former housekeeper picked up your son and showed him all the various jars of sweets and lollipops his wondrous eyes were beaming at. "Barley Sugars" you whispered, a small laugh leaving your lips as he pointed to his favorite and only choice of sweets whilst Frances tried to coax him into trying something different, when a smartly dressed man stood beside them turned around. Tommy.

"Barley Sugars again, eh?" Tommy chuckled, nodding to the stallholder as he reached into his pocket for a penny, smiling lovingly at the boy that resembled you more with each passing day. Wha...what was he doing here? You panicked at the unexpected sight of your husband, the last time being the night you had left him sleeping soundly in your shared bed. With shaky legs and your panicked eyes darting frantically around the market for any of his men, you slid off the barrel stumbling backwards into the shelf of cider, causing a small commotion of crashing glass and spilled beverages.

"You'll 'av to pay for that, miss" The seller frowned, waving his finger at you as he came marching around his stall to your trembling body frantically picking up the shattered glass, apologising profusely for the days' takings and mess you had made. With unsteady feet you stood up, your eyes cast down at the muddied ground, unable to meet the piercing stare you could already feel boring into you with every stifled breath that left your lips.

"Y/N..." Tommy whispered as he steadied himself against the wooden frame of the market stand, his knees buckling, his eyes widening in disbelief as time and everything around him suddenly slowed to an abrupt stillness, his ears deafening him with a piercing high-pitched whistle. "Y/N" he voiced louder, as the sound of the teeming market entered his muffled eardrums and your sheepish eyes finally met his." Y/N" Tommy called your name again as he pushed through the crowds of people, his eyes fixed on you as you started walking backwards, tears welling in your eyes from the panic firmly setting in."Y/N Shelby!" His voiced boomed into the crisp spring air, gaining everyone's attention, his brisk pace turning into a quickened run as he stumbled past people in a frantic attempt to get to you. "No! Don't you dare!" He bellowed, fear tightening in his chest as he watched you turn and run out of the market when he misplaced his foot and fell forward, tripping over the curb of the path as the end of your dress glided behind the corner of the bricked wall and out of sight.

" Shit...shit!" You sobbed running through the cobbled streets as you scanned the neighborhood in a frenzy of labored breaths and hysterical cries for somewhere to hide. What was he doing here?

" Hey, hey!" Tommy said, turning the corner onto the street you had been on mere seconds ago as he grabbed the arm of a young boy running past him with a hoop and stick in his hand. "Have you...have you seen a girl, in a...a dark red dress" Tommy asked breathlessly, whilst his mind frantically tried to make sense if what he saw was real, if you were real.

"That way, Mister" the rosy-cheeked child replied, pointing to a back alley leading to a row of terraced houses before running off to his friends that were patiently waiting for him at the bottom of the street. With shaky steps Tommy ran across the road, raising his hand in apology to a car and it's horn blaring at him from the near collision his dazed state caused. With his hands trembling, and his breath held within the tight confines of his burning lungs, Tommy turned the corner. And, there you were.

"Tommy..." You sobbed, backing up against the roughness of the slabbed wall as he stood in front of you, his own eyes welling with the unspent tears he'd been holding in for the past two years in an attempt to push away the reality of your absence.

"You're dead...I..." he said, his voice catching in his throat as he stepped closer, his brow furrowing in confusion at the acceptance he had surrendered to, now thrown into a disarray. " I.. I thought you were dead" he muttered in front of you as you shook your head, the back of his hand coming up to gingerly stroke across your cheek as the soothing coolness of his wedding band he couldn't bare to part with brushed along your delicate skin. But as the initial shock slowly started to fade, Tommy's jaw suddenly tightened and his gentle touch dug into your skin, his fingers twisting in anger as the creases of his brow deepened and the fury of feeling fooled took over. "I thought you were fucking dead!" He snapped through gritted teeth grabbing your chin, his grip painfully pushing into your flesh as he pressed his forehead to yours and his own tears spilled over between the curves of your cheeks. "Fuck!" He bellowed pushing your face away in disgust as he stumbled back to the wall opposite you, pulling his peaked cap from his head to cover his face as his body forced the contents of his stomach up onto the bricked floor. For months he had believed you had killed yourself, thrown yourself in the cut. And for months he blamed himself, burdening his body and mind with the responsibility of your death. The realisation and shock of you being alive was too much for his body to comprehend, even for someone as hardened to life as himself. " I thought you were dead..." Tommy wept quietly as he turned his head away from you, his reserved demeanour crumbling apart, leaving a man broken and tired from two years of heartbreak in its wake.

" Tommy I'm sorry, I..." You sobbed, approaching him as he put his hand out to stop you.

" No. You don't get to do that. You don't get to fucking say sorry" he sniffed back his tears cutting off your meek attempt to apologise as he stood up wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his disheveled hair hanging over the perspiration sticking to his forehead." Why?" His voice wobbled barely above a whispered as he searched your eyes for an answer, his back pressed firmly against the brick wall to stop his legs from finally giving in as the adrenaline that had been pumping furiously through his veins slowly dispersed and fatigue took over.

" I couldn't do it anymore Tommy, I..."

" Mummy!" a little voice caught your attention as you turned your head and your eyes widened in disbelief at the sight of your son in Frances' arms mere feet from you, his little hands reaching desperately for you as Tommy watched your panicked reaction, a scoff catching in his throat when your eyes sheepishly darted away from your son and back to him.

"Mrs Shelby..." France's voice broke as her hand flew to her mouth and tears pooled in her eyes at the sight of you standing before her. For she believed as everyone else did, that the poor Mrs Shelby had succumbed to her troubles and parted from this world, now free of her tormented mind.

" Take William to the car, Frances" Tommy ordered turning away, adjusting his coat and demeanour as he breathed heavily through his mouth, every part of him desperately trying to regain some form of composure.

" Mummy! Mummy!" Your son wailed as your eyes brimmed with tears, and you apprehensively stepped towards him with your hands out when Tommy hurried between you both, and you came face to face with the remnants of his anger firmly etched on his face once again. He didn't trust you. Your initial reaction to seeing William not good enough of one for your husband who was now evaluating your every move, your every word.

" Mummy's coming, isn't she?" Tommy said, grabbing you by your arm as he waited for a response, his jaw tightening at every passing second as his patience grew thin, unwilling to let you go, unwilling to give you an option. "Isn't she?"

" Yes" you whispered, nodding your head as Frances hurried to the car with William wailing loudly in her arms.

" Look at you" Tommy said, glaring at you from head to toe, his words laced in disdain as he took off your hat, throwing it to the muddied ground with despise. Disheveled clothes, matted hair and muddied fingers. He had given you the world, given you a warm home, anything you could have wished for and yet you chose this, a life of labor and poverty over him and your son. With a mind clouded with fury, Tommy was doing what he promised he'd never do to all the gods he had prayed to, all his ancestors he had pleaded to if they would just grant him one thing, and bring you back into his arms. He was judging you.

" Wh...why is he calling me mummy?" you said, sobbing as you hurried alongside Tommy's quickened pace, his hand still painfully grasped onto your arm, dragging you with him to the car. William was only four months old when you left, he didn't know who you were, did he? " Tommy?"

"Just fucking move Y/N" Tommy said, opening the car door and pushing you in, slamming it behind him with enough force to frighten William into tears again. " Frances, please" Tommy sighed pinching his brow, his elbows resting on the steering wheel as William cried loudly in the back of the car. As Frances tended to your child, searching for his brown bear she feared he may have dropped in all the commotion, you kept your eyes fixed firmly ahead of you, your hands clasped in your lap not daring to look at anyone as shame engulfed you and reality hit home that you would now have to face not only what you did but everyone in your life you had left. Tommy had now plunged you head first back into a world you had abandoned without an ounce of sympathy or understanding, the anxiety of what awaited you was becoming unbearable.

Pulling up to Arrow house, the confines of the car were silent, and had been for the majority of the journey with William now soundly asleep in France's arms, the only audible noise being that of the muddied driveway of your forgotten home and the sound of Tommy's flesh gripping tightly onto the stirring wheel. He was furious, the moment he could have only dreamed of as he sought solitude in the pits of grief now engulfed with hatred. As Tommy and Frances exited the car, you stood seated, panic suddenly enveloping you, your body unable to move as you watched the familiar faces of the grounds men coming to a halt as they squinted into the car and at your face they thought they'd never see again. You wanted to run, not from the heavy weight bearing down on your heart but run from their critical eyes and the things you were sure you could hear them saying.

" Get out" Tommy said opening your door, pulling you out and marching you to the front of your once, shared home.

" Tommy" a lady beamed upon seeing him as she waited in the foyer, her dark brown locks cut into a bob bouncing on her shoulders with every step she took as your husband stormed through the grand entrance with your arm grasped tightly between his fingers. "And who's this?" she frowned looking at you from head to toe, her assumptions of you firmly setting in stone from your appearance alone. A thief no doubt, or a whore. She thought turning her nose up at you as her crimson nails curled into her palms as she crossed her arms, ready to have you thrown off the grounds or better, dumped in a ditch. You had no place in this grand house, in the house she was now not only the governess of, but a woman that the maids and workers believed had wormed her way into ruling the manor Tommy had abandoned his interest and care for to the grief of losing you. " Well, who are you?"

" She's my wife"

PART TWO

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verstappen-cult · 5 months

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ATTENDING THE ERAS TOUR WITH THE BOYS | F1 GRID

★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)

lando suggests you wear matching outfits because he’s seen how everyone dress up so cool to go to the concert and he wants you both to experience what it means going to the eras tour, from start to finish. he blares all taylor’s albums while you get ready and in the car ride to the stadium, he knows probably half of the lyrics but his excitement is so cute you don’t tell him how he’s singing pretty like a devil instead of grinning like a devil.

★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)

charles doesn’t consider himself as a huge swiftie, of course he knows a few of taylor’s songs but that’s it. however, when you asked him if he’d be your date for the concert, his high rate went up to the roof. seeing the taylor swift live? for the first time ever? and at the eras tour? he tried very hard not to show how happy and excited that made him feel and he was… not too successful. he sings with you during the concert, and happily listens to you talk about your favorite part while you drive back home.

★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)

when oscar bought you the tickets, he was expecting you to go with one of your friends, not to hug him and kiss him and practically scream how excited you were to attend the concert with him. oscar knows nothing about taylor swift, he’s heard a few songs because who hasn’t? so a few days before the big day you sit him in front of the tv, a power point that reads ‘all you need to know about taylor swift’ on the screen. if by the end of the presentation he goes to spotify to listen to reputation, that’s his problem. he spends the entire concert looking at you, he knows taylor is a big deal to a lot of people but he couldn’t care less when he has you smiling and shouting and looking so happy by his side.

★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)

you and max started dating thanks to a taylor swift song, so when he learnt about the eras tour he didn’t hesitate, not for a second, and bought the tickets. it was meant to be a surprise for your birthday but he couldn’t keep the secret and told you the same night. he’s not good at keeping secrets, okay. what’s he’s also not very good at: arts and crafts, so he simply sat down on the couch, pressed play to miss americana and watched you make some friendship bracelets. his favorite was the one you made for yourself with his racing number on it. he spent such a good time at the concert, and got to trade a bunch of friendship bracelets too.

★ — ALEX ALBON (23)

alex is a swiftie thanks to you. one day he asked you who she was, the next one he was being introduced to the whole taylor swift lore. it was only fair that he stayed up all night trying to buy tickets to the eras tour with you. alex spent the weeks leading up to the concert listening to you talk about how excited you were. and if he’s honest, he was excited too. taylor is a big part of your life together and knowing that you two share it and can enjoy it together makes him feel pretty lucky.

★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)

who was more excited to go to the eras tour… you or daniel? hard to say, really. he cries during all too well, even though he doesn’t admit it, he has something in his eyes right at that moment; believe him. daniel gets a lot of compliments for his outfit and goes viral, because what is a formula one driver doing at the eras tour wearing a sparkly suit? daniel doesn’t care about anything but to enjoy with you and kiss you when she sings lover. and love story. and enchanted.

★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)

mick is like a puppy. if you tell him something, he’ll do it right away. he can’t say no to you, not when you have those big and pretty eyes looking at him with that look that has his heart melting. mick is very nervous the day of the concert but when you ask him what’s wrong he just tells you he’s excited. you don’t ask again because next thing you know taylor’s on stage and the whole stadium is going crazy. when taylor sings ‘he knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring’ everyone around you goes crazy, and when you look to the left there he is, your boyfriend, kneeling on the ground with his pretty smile and a ring.

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wildernessuntothemselves · 5 months

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Jealousy, Jealousy... | Final Part

A/N: this is the main ending. there is an alternative ending available for the other boy on patreon. the link for which is found at the end of this chapter.

Word count: 13k

Genre: Smut, angst, fluff

Warnings: fem!reader, mostly dom!reader, face-sitting, PIV sex, dirty talk, creampie, handjob, heartbreak.

“Hey, baby.” You greet Yeonjun, giving him a kiss on the lips. “Ready to go?”

You were picking him up to go home after a long day of work for the both of you. You had in mind a night of drinking wine and complaining about your day until you passed out in his arms and you can’t wait to get home already.

“Just a little longer, doll.” He tells you and you immediately start whining. “Junnie… those two bottles of wine I bought aren’t gonna drink themselves. We gotta get cracking.”

He chuckles tiredly. “While I appreciate your efforts to get me drunk, Beomgyu has composed a new song and I need to stay back to hear it.”

“Oh.” It’s still so weird to you how you now have to hear news about what your best friend is up to from other people. You used to know these things first. If this was a few months ago, you’d have already heard the song before anyone else did. But now you’re lucky if you even get to hear it at all.

But that’s for the best. You’re doing good with Yeonjun. You’re doing good without Beomgyu. You’re breathing. You’re eating. Your heart is beating… maybe even for someone else for a change. It may have been excruciatingly painful at first–forcing yourself to step away from him, not seeking him out to try to make things better after your most recent fallout, not jumping at the chance when he reached out himself, pretending like you’re too busy to see him, making up excuses so you won’t be alone with him, building up your walls so maybe one day you can stand in a room with him and not have to hold back every cell of your body from throwing yourself at his feet and begging him to love you, but you’ve gotten a lot better at it.

“Do you wanna listen to it?” Yeonjun asks when he sees your curiosity, but you hesitate. Should you? Maybe you should just wait in the car…

But when you see Beomgyu come out with his acoustic guitar and set it on his lap, you find yourself nodding and grabbing a seat next to Yeonjun. You miss hearing him sing. You miss being privy to his passions and whims. Maybe it's selfish of you to allow yourself the opportunity to witness more of him than you’re willing to give him but you never claimed to not be selfish.

As if Beomgyu shares your thoughts, he glances at you, hesitating for a second and you can see the thoughts flitting behind his pretty eyes–you know him too well. Is he thinking about kicking you out? Does he not want you to hear the song because you’ve been keeping your distance from him?

Eventually though he looks down at his guitar and starts to play, and as soon as the first words leave his lips, your heart drops.

Oh, I’m falling in love

As time goes by

As my feelings grow

I’m becoming more anxious

How deep is your love?

I want to ask

Couldn’t it be the same if not deeper?

Your heart lurches in your chest at the lyrics. Falling in love? Is Beomgyu falling in love with Haeun? You know you have no right to feel hurt by this but you do. Why couldn’t he have loved you? What does he see in her that you couldn’t have given him? Is she prettier than you? Smarter? Kinder? Funnier? What was it that made you fall short of deserving his love?

Seeing you change little by little

I’m afraid I’ll lose you

Not mine

My one minute, one second

Take them all

All my time is yours

Why?

Why have you changed?

Why are you so far away from me?

Now we are at different paths.

It hurts even more that it seems she’s not reciprocating his feelings. She has everything you want and she doesn’t even want it. He’s willing to give her everything but it seems it’s not enough for her. Oh how cruelly ironic.

She seemed to be very into him before, at least after the band got more popular, and with every increase in their popularity, she attached herself to him more and more, but something must’ve gone wrong along the line. You have known for some time that Beomgyu and Haeun have been having relationship troubles but you don’t know exactly what because Beomgyu hasn’t told anyone but you guess it’s really bad if this song is about them.

Is she in love with someone else? Has she lost interest? How could she do it so easily when it’s taking everything in you to do the same. Can she tell you her secret so you can stop suffering and give your heart completely to the man who actually wants it?

How can I go back

To our beginning

When we were looking at the same place

The when we had the same heart

I hope you don’t know it

This feeling

Even though I love you

I still feel alone

He’s hiding it from her, afraid to reveal his feelings–maybe because he thinks she doesn’t feel the same way, that if he reveals them she’ll reject him. You know that feeling all too well. You wish you could protect him from it even if he was the cause of your own similar pain.

As the chorus repeats, you become even more sure that the song is about him. You can hear the anguish so clearly in his voice. Beomgyu has always been so talented, always able to give his all to the song and live it as if it’s his own, but you know him too well. You know this is real pain.

I’m drowning in you

Don’t leave me like this

As the bridge reaches its climax, your body shakes, wanting to lunge forward and take him into your arms, to save him from himself even if it would tear you to pieces. But you can’t. You don’t have the right to anymore. All you can do is sit there and wait for him to finish his song, wait for the boys to discuss it as if it’s not his heart being laid out in the open to be dissected.

“What do you think?” He asks once the song is over, biting the skin of his finger, a nervous habit you’ve always quietly found adorable. You would always grab his hand and kiss the poor finger better, scolding him for hurting himself, but secretly you loved it. You loved having his hand in yours. You loved having an excuse to press your lips against him. And you loved the smile he would always give you in response.

“It’s really good." Kai says, impressed. "Didn’t know that someone as emotionally stunted as you could come up with such a moving song."

"Fuck off." Beomgyu mutters, not in the mood for jokes, obviously nervous to see what the others think.

“Yeah, I like it too. You said you’re thinking of having violins in the opening?” Taehyun asks, picking up a music sheet.

Beomgyu nods. “Yeah. I know we’ve never done that before but I feel like it would really add to the atmosphere of the song.”

"I think it could be fun." Taehyun hums, turning to Soobin. “What do you think?”

"I agree. It's good to experiment a bit while still maintaining our sound which I think this song does really well. It could expose us to more people while still not alienating our existing fanbase.” He praises and Beomgyu smiles, relieved at his song being so well-received by the other members. “I especially like the bridge part. I think once Yeonjun sings it, it would really elevate the song.”

Beomgyu's face falls at that but he quickly covers it up. You furrow your eyebrows. That can't feel good, being compared negatively with Yeonjun, even if Soobin didn't mean it like that.

You look at Yeonjun, who hadn't said a word so far. He was staring at Beomgyu weirdly. Did he not like the song?

You nudge him, giving him a questioning look and he just shakes his head, smiling at you before saying, "I like it. Good job, man."

Beomgyu gives him a tense smile in response, and the group falls into an awkward silence for a few seconds–a weird tension hanging in the air, before Soobin clears his throat and begins discussing how they'll play the song, what parts could be improved and who will get which part. You don’t really listen anymore, just looking between Yeonjun and Beomgyu.

Your boyfriend seems to have gotten over his weird reaction, now focused on the technicalities. Beomgyu is focused too but he doesn’t look as enthusiastic as you expected him to be–as you'd seen him get when talking about his songs before–and it's more proof to you that this is a very personal song to him.

As the boys finally break up after a while, most of them going their separate ways to pack up their stuff and get ready to leave, your boyfriend stays behind with Soobin, still discussing something with him. That’s when you spot Beomgyu alone, putting his guitar in its case, and you take the opportunity to go talk to him, unable to hold yourself back this time.

“Hey, Beomgyu, that song was really good.” You start by saying, wanting to congratulate him on a really good song but also needing an opener. But Beomgyu doesn’t say anything in response, simply giving you a blank look–which fucking hurt but you guess you deserve it–so you continue lamely, trying to get him to respond. “You’re really talented. I don’t think you’re gonna need to moonlight as a stripper anymore.” You try to joke but again he doesn’t really say anything, turning his attention back to his guitar bag which he zips up.

“Umm… Beomgyu, that song… is it about you?” You bite the bullet, and he finally gives you some sort of response, albeit nonverbal. He looks at you like a deer caught in headlights. “Is it about you and Haeun?”

“What?” He frowns and you explain yourself nervously, hoping you weren’t overstepping boundaries that have sprung up in your absence. “Well, the song is about a guy who loves someone who doesn’t feel the same about him and how she’s changing and being distant… is that what’s happening with Haeun?”

He sighs. “Maybe. So what?”

You wince at his callousness, like he doesn’t have time for you. You suppose you brought it on yourself with the way you've been avoiding him. Still you ignore it, determined to tell him what you think anyway. “Well, if it is, you should tell her. Tell her how you feel, she might feel the same way and you don’t even know. You might both be pulling away when all you want is to be with each other.” Yes, you know how hypocritical it is of you to say that but you can’t imagine a world in which anyone would reject Beomgyu’s love. “If you love her then you should tell her, right?”

He snorts. “What do you even know about how I feel? Do you have any idea about the amount of hurt and self-loathing it would cause me if she doesn’t feel the same way? How it would ruin our relationship if she’s not where I am?”

“I know.” You grit down on that same pain. “I know.”

He pauses, his anger burning out as soon as it ignites. Then he asks quietly, “Yeonjun?”

You press down on your lips. You know if you say no then he might figure it out. He might finally discover your wretched secret, so you smile and nod, fully knowing how hypocritical you are being right now. You’re such a fucking coward, you disgust even yourself.

“Right.” He is quiet for a minute, and the atmosphere is charged with weird, unreadable emotions that buzz in your ear and form sparks over your skin. You almost excuse yourself–not really wanting to leave despite how uncomfortable it is but knowing you should. You’ve said what you wanted to say. There is no good reason for you to linger around any longer.

But then Beomgyu speaks again. "Are you happy?"

You pause, frowning in suspicion at the unexpected question, which Beomgyu notices right away and clarifies, "We haven't talked in a while. I wanna make sure you're doing alright." He says, tone genuine… and a bit sad.

"I am." You allow, not being untruthful. You are alright, no matter how bad you feel doing it without him. "We're doing well. Yeonjun is as wonderful as ever. He is sweet and funny and he shows me something new everyday. Which is a bit scary for me–you know how I am afraid of change, but he makes it exciting.”

“I’m glad. I want you to be happy.” He smiles at you. It doesn’t reach his eyes but you know he means it. “And I wish I could be there to see it for myself. Do you think you can let me?”

That’s what you were afraid of. This is why you shouldn’t have talked to him. You knew he might use it to try to get back into your life, and you know how hard it would be for you to say no. But you do it anyway. You have to do it for yourself and for Yeonjun.

“I can’t. Not now.” Each meager letter leaving your mouth feels like a blow to the heart. It lays battered in your chest, asking you why the hell you would refuse it its salvation, but you just push it down again, silencing it.

“But I miss you.” His words come out choppy and weak, and you know he’s holding back tears. You hate him for it because it makes you want to cry too. “Don’t you miss me?”

“Of course, I miss you!” You whisper as if you don’t want the universe to hear it. "I'll always miss you. But I can't keep doing this with you anymore. I'm tired of the whiplash."

"No more whiplash.” He shakes his head harshly, getting closer to you but you step back, causing pain to bloom across his teary face. “I get it now. I've worked through my stuff and I'm ready to be a real friend again."

"Well, I haven't worked through mine.” You stand strong. Or as strongly as you can be under such duress. “I still need time and I will not have you rush me."

He moves back, shoulders hunched down. "I'm sorry."

"I know." You say tiredly before walking away, your bruised heart bleeding out at the bottom of your chest.

____________

Beomgyu’s song has become some kind of a local sensation. It is being listened to by a lot of the young people in your city–resonating with many youths who have gone through similar heartbreaks. From small unrequited crushes to the person you love falling out of love with you–who hasn’t loved more than they have been loved before?

The painfully relatable song has gained the boys a considerable amount of fame online too. They were being asked to do more gigs than ever. They’ve even gotten an interview, which you’re currently preparing them for, dressing them up to look their best on camera.

Like always, you’ve left Beomgyu for last, dreading being close to him still. And he gives you every reason to, staring at you the whole time you fix his clothes.

"What?" You finally ask, and he gives you a dumb look. "What?"

"You're staring." You tell him, and he averts his gaze. You can see from the ear poking out of his long hair that he’s blushing. "Oh. Didn't realize."

Oh, how many times you’ve teased him over the way his ears turn red when he’s embarrassed. It was such an endearing quality in him, just one of the many small reasons that made up the whole of you loving him.

You got back to styling him, pretending it doesn’t tug at your heartstrings anymore, and he goes back to staring at you.

After a long beat of silence, he asks awkwardly, "So what are you up to? What's new with you?"

"Well, I'm the creative director for this up and coming band's new song." You joke, trying to ease off the tension. Or maybe his cute involuntary reaction softened up your defenses a little bit.

"Oh, are they good?" He grins, falling gladly into your familiar banter.

"They are, but I think their bass guitarist only got the job because of his looks."

He gives an affronted gasp. "What the hell? Hater! What, you think just because he's so pretty he can't possibly be talented too? Us pretty people are always misjudged."

"Oh, you poor pretty boy." You reach out to pinch his chin, before you realize what you’re doing and quickly take your hand away, clearing your throat and stepping back. “All done.”

You give him a tense smile and turn to leave but his hand shoots out to grab your wrist.

"Wait." He shouts, and you look down at his hand wrapped around your wrist. He notices your discomfort and immediately lets you go. "Do you want to get together for some food or a movie or something?"

Why does he have to make this so hard? Why does he do this every time?

"Not yet." You repeat what you must’ve told him a dozen times before. You can't slip back into it. Because your skin still buzzes whenever you touch him and your heart clenches painfully around the hole he left in it whenever you see him. You need time apart to fully let the love you have for him go.

"When?” He asks, frustrated. “When will it end? What can I do to help? What do you need me to do so you can be my friend again?"

"I need you to give me space." You say firmly, standing your ground.

“But–”

“No buts, Beomgyu. You’re the one who made it this way. If you had been my friend when I needed you to, we wouldn’t have gotten into this situation. You need to deal with the consequences of your own actions.”

He stares at the ground, not answering you. You sigh, turning around to leave with no restrictions this time.

Though what you said to him about his previous behavior causing a rift between you wasn’t false, it wasn’t entirely the truth either. The other reason you felt you couldn’t be his friend again yet is that you’re still not over him, and you’ve made a promise to yourself and to Yeonjun that you will only be devoting yourself to him from now on, and Beomgyu being there is just going to hinder your progress.

But as you watch the boys do their interview, you can’t help but feel guilty for what you’d said to Beomgyu. You know it was the right thing to do, but seeing him look so glum, his light dimmed and his spirits down, you wish you had held it off at least for later.

He is acting nothing like his normal loud, talkative self. He looks down and doesn’t speak unless directly asked a question. It hurts your heart because you know the people watching this won’t get to see how funny and bright and passionate he is. They’ll see him as the quiet guy staring at his own feet. He might still get some fans who would be into the quiet, sad look but that’s not who Beomgyu is. That’s not what he wants to be known as.

But the rest of the boys are covering for him well, especially Yeonjun. He is so charming, you know he’s gonna be stealing hearts left and right when this airs. He certainly has managed to put a smile on your face despite all the conflicting feelings you’re feeling, and you make sure he sees it whenever he glances in your direction.

_______________

The boys are doing better than ever, more interviews and gigs coming in and filling their schedule up so rapidly they’ll barely have any free time soon. They’re already in talks with a record company looking to sign them. Which is why you’re actively savoring moments like this when you get to just hangout with Yeonjun at the mall, eating a snack as you take a break from shopping–one of your favorite activities to do as a couple.

“Just think, soon enough we won’t even be able to do this. We’d be getting mobbed by crowds wanting your autograph and pushing me out of the way to take pictures of you.” You say to Yeonjun, half-joking. It might really happen one day with how quickly they’re gaining popularity. They might have small fame now but who knows what tomorrow will bring, and you believe in the boys. They’re talented enough to do it, and that both worries you and excites you.

“Well, I’ll only ever have eyes for you.” He winks at you, and you give him a small smile.

In moments like this you should feel happy. You are happy. But your happiness is incomplete. It is shadowed by worry and doubt. Yeonjun is so wonderful. He is so sweet and he can be very caring, but sometimes you can’t help but question how much he really feels for you. It keeps you from letting yourself completely go with him. He tells you words that are supposed to be charming, but they don’t sound personal. They don’t feel deep. You know he likes you, but is he ever going to love you?

Maybe you’re overthinking it. This is what a budding relationship is like–the novelty comes with uncertainty. The first times come with doubt. The young fire sometimes burns. You shouldn’t let yourself ruin it for you.

Yes, your love for him isn’t as old and deep-rooted as your love for Beomgyu but maybe that’s a good thing. It will take time to grow and flourish and become something just as beautiful or even more so. In time, you can learn to let go of your all-consuming love for your best friend, cover that gaping hole that Beomgyu has left in your heart, forget about the way every time you see Beomgyu with her you feel like screaming out so loud the gods themselves will weep–

“Beomgyu.” You gasp, seeing him in front of you. Fuck, he’s like bloody marry. Call his name three times and he appears.

You try to hide, putting your head down and attempting to cover your face with your hair but there is no mistaking Yeonjun’s bright orange head and Beomgyu quickly spots you and makes his way over to you with Haeun of all people.

“Curse your stupid hair.” You hiss at Yeonjun just before Beomgyu and Haeun arrive at the table.

"Hey, guys, are you on a date?" Beomgyu asks as if there was any doubt about it.

"Yes, actually." Yeonjun tells him in a tone that clearly conveys that you don’t want to be disturbed, But Beomgyu doesn’t care, grabbing a chair and pulling it out.

"Oh sweet." He sits down. "How have you guys been?"

“What are you doing, Beommie? We have a lot of shopping to do.” Haeun complains, and every time you hear her call him that you want to claw her tongue out.

"In a minute, baby. Let's rest our legs for a bit." He motions for Haeun to sit down, but she puts her hands on her hips. “I don’t want to rest.”

“Well then you go on and I’ll catch up with you.” He suggests and she huffs, deciding to sit down after all. Oh, joy.

“But I can’t leave you alone, Beommie.” She whines, wrapping her arms around him and kissing his neck, making you almost hurl.

Thankfully, Yeonjun takes your attention away from them. “So, what new crazy thing is your boss asking from you?”

You turn fully to him, trying your best to ignore the disgusting intruders. “Ugh, don’t even get me started. This morning, she–”

“Boss? What boss?” Beomgyu interrupts, and you clench your teeth, preparing yourself before turning your head to look towards him.

“The editor of Elements magazine. She saw the Frost shoot and wanted me to do a pictorial for them.”

“Oh my god, that is amazing.” He shouts, startling Haeun who was so close to his face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

An awkward moment passes after his mindless question. Because we don’t talk? Because we’re not friends anymore?

Eventually, you decide to just shrug. “I guess it must’ve slipped my mind.”

“Right.” He clears his throat, going along. “Well, show me what you’ve done so far.”

You hesitate, glancing at Yeonjun who sighs and gestures for you to go ahead. So you pull up your phone, showing him some of the pictures you’ve already taken.

"Wow this is real artistic shit." Beomgyu awes and you laugh. Trust in Beomgyu to give such an un-nuanced but still somehow very flattering opinion.

“I don’t get it. It’s just a guy in a bathtub.” Haeun speaks up, obviously intending to antagonize you. “My friend Jiwon takes better pictures than this and he didn’t even go to college. If that’s what they teach you at school then you’ve wasted your money.”

Oh fuck no. You may be spineless but you won’t allow Haeun of all people to make fun of your work. You prepare to launch into a screaming match with her condescending ass, but before you could even open your mouth to speak, Beomgyu beats you to it. “Your friend Jiwon takes back camera pictures of weird strangers on the street and makes up an exaggerated or completely false backstory about them to try to make the obviously amateur pictures appear more interesting. How fucking original.”

Beomgyu’s quick defense of you makes your heart swell. Some things never change.

“Yeah? Like this is original!” She sputters indignantly.

“I know it’s nothing groundbreaking.” You interrupt their quarrel, “Like a guy in a tub staring longingly at the camera isn’t something that hasn’t exactly been done before but… umm, it’s actually inspired by your song. The colored water is supposed to represent love, you know the “I’m drowning in you” part? It’s killing him but he can’t get himself to get out. He wants to drown in it… I don’t know it may be stupid but I hope you don’t mind.”

"Oh. No, I'm… flattered." He trails off, staring at you wide-eyed. “I didn’t think I would be able to inspire you again…”

“Yeah, well...” You mumble bashfully, a charged moment passes over you as you stare silently at each other.

"Are you done?" Haeun complains, and for once you’re thankful to her for cutting the strange moment. "I'm bored. Let's go."

“We haven’t even eaten anything yet. Take a look at the menus and order something for us, won’t you?” He asks her, but doesn’t even wait for her response before turning back to you. "You know what would be hilarious. If you get the editor to let you do a shoot with the plastic watermelon dress you made."

“It’s not plastic.” You roll your eyes at him, knowing exactly which dress he’s referring to. “It’s coral organza.”

“Looked like plastic to me.” He shrugs with a mischievous grin on his face.

“That’s because you're fashion illiterate.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know I’m very fashion forward and hip.” He proclaims, sounding decidedly NOT neither fashion forward nor hip.

“Yes, because a punk guitarist wearing ratty shirts and ripped jeans is so revolutionary.” You drawl teasingly and he pouts, pulling at his shirt. “Hey! You were there when I picked these out. You said I looked cool.”

“Yeah, she’ll say you look cool wearing a garbage bag.” Yeonjun scoffs and you blush, realizing that you’ve completely neglected Yeonjun as soon as Beomgyu got here. You move back from your huddled forward stance to lean against your boyfriend.

“What?” Beomgyu asks and you quickly brush Yeonjun’s comment off. “Nothing. Now Yeonjun is very stylish. He knows all the trends and he knows how to make them work for him.”

Beomgyu snorts, glancing at your hand that is caressing Yeonjun’s chest. “I don’t follow trends. I make trends.”

“That’s right, baby. You’re a trendsetter.” Haeun coos, getting her hands on him too, touching him much more inappropriately than you were touching Yeonjun.

But Beomgyu ignores her once again, asking you, "How did you even reach the editor of Elements?"

"Oh, Yeonjun knew her." Your hand falls down to wrap around Yeonjun’s, squeezing it reassuringly.

“Of course, Yeonjun knows the editor." For some reason that piece of information really seemed to annoy Beomgyu. But you ignore his unnecessarily snarky tone and turn to smile at Yeonjun, hoping he’d forgive you for your earlier mishap. “Yeah, he’s amazing, isn’t he?”

"Yes, he’s great.” Beomgyu mutters, standing up. “I think me and Haeun have stuff to do. Let’s go, baby."

"Yes!" She claps happily, standing up too.

"Oh, okay. Bye, I guess." You mumble, watching them abruptly scurry off as you try to process the weird interaction. "What's wrong with him?"

“Maybe he’s just being his usual weird self.” Yeonjun shrugs, removing his hand from yours, making you frown. "Or maybe he feels inadequate because I was able to get you the job and he couldn't."

"That's ridiculous." Why would Beomgyu feel inadequate about that? He doesn’t have any obligation to get you work.

"Is it? If I was in love with a girl and another guy gave her what I couldn't. I would be pretty bummed out too."

"What?" The world suddenly screeches to a halt, as does Yeonjun. He looks at you, slowly contemplating something as if he doesn’t know that the world has stopped and is waiting on him.

Finally, he sighs. "I tried to ignore it. Partly because the idiot is trying to hide it and partly because I like you, but ever since we got together, it's been pretty damn hard to ignore. Beomgyu is clearly in love with you.”

"No. You’re getting it wrong.” You shake your head, hoping to get rid of the cotton that has replaced your brain, your thoughts feeling fuzzy and slow as they travel through it. “He's just upset because he thinks us dating will drive me and him apart… which I guess has been true."

"No, he's upset because he wants to be with you and it's killing him to see us together.” Yeonjun clarifies, irritated at having to explain to you how some other guy is in love with you.

"How can you be so sure? Did he tell you that?"

"He doesn't have to tell me. I have eyes…" He looks you up and down. "And well, I'm not stupid like you two."

"That's ridiculous." You denounce once more.

"You said that already."

"Well, it is! Beomgyu doesn’t love me. I mean as a friend, sure but not… like that."

"Oh my god, I'm dealing with two idiots. I don’t even know why the fuck I’m explaining this to you but here goes,” Yeonjun exclaims in frustration, obviously not enjoying this conversation any more than you are. “Think about it, no guy gets this worked up over just a fuck. His first explanation of his anger being just because he’s afraid our relationship is going to ruin the band was total bullshit. It was just to throw you off his scent and have a way to get you to stay away from me without revealing anything. And his second explanation is even more bullshit. Why the fuck would us being in a relationship make you lose him as a friend if he didn’t hold anything but platonic love for you? Why does he get mad every time you and I take a step forward in our relationship? Because he’s fucking in love with you. He literally wrote a whole song about how he’s secretly in love with you and it’s killing him that you’re not his!"

“That song was about me?” You ask and he gives you a look as if to say he can’t believe a single human being can be this dumb. “No, it’s obviously about the girl he’s been ignoring the entire time he was sat with us just so he could talk to you.”

Your mouth opens slowly, tongue dry as it forms the words. "Let’s say he does love me. Why wouldn't he just tell me?"

"Why wouldn't you just tell him?"

You sputter uselessly for a while, not really saying anything. Until you give up and just stop, submerging the both of you in a suffocating silence. You’d think that your thoughts would be racing a million miles an hour right now, trying to process all this information, but nothing is going through your head except one question.

Beomgyu loves me? Beomgyu loves me? Beomgyu loves me?

You’re only taken out of your looping thought when Yeonjun sighs again. "Well, this was fun while it lasted."

"What?" Your mouth hangs open, your frozen brain somehow still having enough power to be shocked.

"You're obviously still completely in love with him. When he's there it's like you don't even see me. You don't see anyone else." Yeonjun says defeatedly.

"No, I–" You try to deny, but he gives you a pointed look, daring you to lie to him.

“Okay, I love him but I’m with you.”

“Only to get over him.”

You shake your head vehemently. “No. My feelings for you are real. Don’t you dare deny that.”

“Maybe, but they’re not as strong as your feelings for him.”

“But they can be.” You insist–trying to convince yourself or him, you don’t know. Maybe if you give me the chance to–”

“To what? Wait and see if you’ll finally look for me first when you walk into a room instead of him? Pretend that I don’t know that time and distance haven’t dulled your love for him one bit? I can’t go on in a relationship where I know my partner will always be thinking ‘what if’. I won’t let myself be hurt like that by you. Not anymore.”

You tear up. You were hurting him? You didn't even think he cared all that much. You must be a terrible judge of character to be getting both boys so wrong. “I’m sorry, Yeonjun. I never meant to hurt you. I really, really tried.”

You really did. You didn’t do this just to get over Beomgyu. Yes, it was part of it, but you liked him too. You really thought this could work, and you really think it would have if Beomgyu wasn’t in the picture, and so you did everything in your power to take him out of it. You moved out from your apartment. You cut Beomgyu off. You dedicated yourself to Yeonjun.

But how can you stop your heart from beating for Beomgyu? It’s entirely out of your control.

"But you did anyway.” He says and you wince, one tear escaping your lashes and falling down the left side of your face. “Do you hate me?”

“I could never hate you.” He sighs, and your lips tremble as you confess, “I wish you would. It might make me feel better.”

“Maybe you don’t deserve to feel better.” His words pierce your heart, and you know you deserve every ounce of pain it inflicts.

“That’s fair.”

You’re both silent for a long while–you trying to keep your tears under control, not wishing for him to see it as any intention to garner sympathy or guilt from him, and him sitting there quietly, his thoughts entirely hidden from you, but you know there is pain and anger in him. You can feel it radiating off of him.

But eventually your tears dry out, and you gather enough courage to ask one last thing of him. “I know I have no right to ask this but can you not tell Beomgyu about us breaking up? I don’t want him to know yet. But don’t worry, I’ll gather my things and move out. You won’t have to live with me.”

"You're not done playing games?" He frowns and you shake your head. "I'm not. It’s just because you guys are working out that record deal and if anything goes wrong, I don’t want to risk ruining things for you.”

“Fine.” Yeonjun graciously accepts. “And you can stay. I’m not gonna kick you out into the street. I’m not that kinda guy.”

____________________

Despite your love for Beomgyu, your break-up with Yeonjun wasn’t easy. You really liked him and had grown attached to him. And even though you still lived together, you hardly talked when it was just the two of you alone. You realize with time just how hurt he is by everything even though he tries his best to hide it from the others–not just because they think you’re still together, but because he has always refused to burden his younger members with his troubles, ever the selfless older brother. It’s one of the qualities you both admired and despised about him simultaneously. You wanted him to share his fears and worries, to lighten the load on his shoulders, and for a short while you were able to do that for him, but now that you’ve broken up, he’s left to carry all of it by himself again and with heartbreak to boot.

You feel incredibly guilty about it, and you mourn for the love that could’ve blossomed between you had you not been so hung up about your best friend. The best friend you still haven’t talked to by the way.

Yeonjun's words have not left your mind since the day he revealed everything to you. No moment passes by when you don't think about them. But you haven’t confronted Beomgyu about it yet because the record deal was still underway, and because you weren’t sure if Yeonjun is even right about it all. What if he’s wrong?

Yeah, what? You'll ruin your friendship with Beomgyu? It's already in shambles anyway. Still, the rejection will be brutal. You've lived in the shadows for years. You're used to ignoring your feelings, that kind of pain is familiar to you now, but if you reveal them to Beomgyu and he shoots you down, you might not bear it.

You'll tell him soon enough though, after the party tonight. The boys have finally reached an agreement with the record company and the contract has come through. They're officially signed to a label now and tonight’s party is a small celebration of that.

You’ll do it after the party tonight. You’ll ask to talk to him after everyone leaves and you’ll confess everything. You're ready to come clean and end it all. Well, as ready as you can be.

But as the party drags on, you get restless, and when you spot Beomgyu alone, refilling his drink, you can’t help but steal a little moment with him.

“Congratulations, Beommie. I hear your song sealed the deal.” You smile widely, your lips buzzing with the desire to tell him what you really want to say–that you love him, that you’re proud of him, and that if his song is really about you then he needs to know that you’ve always been his.

“Yeah. I’m not so useless after all.” Beomgyu’s reply is short and bitter.

“What?”

Yeonjun’s words ring in your ears. If I was in love with a girl and another guy gave her what I couldn't. I would be pretty bummed out too. Is this Beomgyu being insecure like Yeonjun said?

But before you can get him to clarify what he means, Haeun comes running over, incapable of leaving him alone for more than a minute. Can you really blame her? If you had him, you would never let him go either.

“Baby, there you are! My star boy.” She throws her arms around him, pulling him into an open mouthed kiss that makes you want to vomit.

You quickly retreat, not having missed the soft-core porn you used to witness while living with Beomgyu. Fucking Yeonjun, is this what he calls Beomgyu being in love with you? You don’t see him pushing her away or anything. He seems pretty happy with the kiss if his tongue in her mouth is any indication.

"Foul." You mutter, swigging your cider, almost choking on it when a voice speaks up next to you. "That can't be good for the heart, huh?"

You look at Yeonjun sheepishly, not sure if you can talk to him about this. After all, you did break up because of your love for the man currently getting his face sucked off by Haeun. So you just settle on mumbling out a weak yeah.

"Well, you know you could always fix it by confronting him about his undying love for you." He tells you and you can’t help but snort, annoyance overcoming your trepidation. "Yeah, right. He's so heartbroken, he's going to drown his sorrows in her pussy."

“He’s just doing this because he thinks we’re still together. If he knows you’re free, I can guarantee you he’ll be dropping her so fast she won’t hit the ground before he’s on his knees for you.”

“How can you be so confident?” You ask and he shrugs. “Once you see it, you can’t unsee it.”

He walks away, leaving you to think over his words. Funny, that’s how you feel about the sight still playing out in front of you, the disgusting view getting burned into your retinas.

Deciding you needed a break, you slip away from the living room, heading towards the bathroom to wash your face off. But on the way there, you pass by your old room, stopping when you see the door slightly cracked open.

Your feet take you inside without you realizing it, compelled by curiosity to see what he’s done with the room in your absence. Has he turned it into a gaming room? Is he using it for storage? Is he letting her use it as her own? Oh, god, you really hope not. Anything but that.

But you’re surprised when you step inside and find it mostly empty except for your old mattress and a few items you must’ve forgotten during your move. A T-shirt here, a sleeping mask there–they were all strewn around on your bed with the odd piece of clothing from Beomgyu himself in the mix.

You step closer, examining the items when something in particular catches your eyes. A flash of pink under a pillow that makes you reach forward to pull it out, realizing just what it was once it’s in your hands–a pair of pink panties. Your pink panties that you’d been missing for a while. Why does Beomgyu have this? You thought he just used this because he was so pent up he needed any form of release but now Haeun is never off his dick so why does he still do this?

Could Yeonjun have been right all along?

As you continue to hold it in your hands, puzzling over it, you hear the door open and close behind you and Beomgyu’s panicky voice calling out your name.

"What are you doing in here?" He squeaks as if this wasn’t your room. Well, your old room but still. It’s not like he made any changes to it yet.

You turn to face him with the panties in your hands, silent, and his eyes grow wide as he stammers, trying to explain himself. “These are old.”

“They’re wet.” You say plainly, which means he has just used them, and he knows it too.

He scoffs, attempting to appear unaffected. As if this is just a completely reasonable situation that you’ve blown way out of proportion. “Well–it’s just–they were on hand.” He gives you what may possibly be the flimsiest excuse in history.

Once you see it, you can’t unsee it.

"Did you leave these out for me to see?" You question, and he rushes to deny. "No! I just forgot to put them away."

His eyes widen again at what he just said, basically admitting that he took them from you on purpose to do with them exactly what you had in mind. God, he's such a stupid loser.

You walk towards him until you’re standing right in front of him, leaving him no room to breathe. “Make everyone leave.”

“It’s our celebratory party, I can’t just–”

You grab his hand and put it under your skirt, pressing his fingers against your warm pussy. “And I want to give you your reward. Make them leave.”

He looks at you, shocked, and suddenly you realize what you're asking of him. You're coming onto him after weeks of ignoring him. You're asking him to have sex with you when he has a girlfriend–when he thinks you have a boyfriend. Oh god.

But then he gulps and says. "Okay."

You watch from behind the door as he stops the music and kicks everyone out, telling them that he doesn’t feel good and needs to rest, and when Kai complains loudly, he asks him if he’d like to stay back and hold his hair while he vomits. That quickly convinces everyone to take the party elsewhere, even his girlfriend. But one person knows better, and you see him peeking around Beomgyu to catch your hidden eyes. You share a look before he turns around and leaves the apartment. This is it. You’re going to do this.

As soon as Beomgyu comes back, you pull him into a kiss, releasing your overflowing nerves with each frustrated and needy moan you let out against his lips. Fuck, you missed kissing him so much. His lips may not be as soft as Yeonjun’s–he may not be as good of a kisser–but god does he still make your heart sing.

“Strip.” You order when you finally tear yourself away from him, though Beomgyu doesn’t make it easy, resisting you the first couple of times you try and pulling you right back into the hungry kiss. But you finally do, and Beomgyu doesn’t hesitate to follow your cue then.

After he’s all stripped down, he looks at you, gaze speaking of his own need to devour you. “Will you strip too?”

“Do you want it?” You ask, putting on an alluring voice but deep down you were just nervous about letting him see you fully for the first time. Even though your experience with Yeonjun has made you gain confidence, you’re still insecure, especially when it comes to Beomgyu. You want to impress him. You want him to think you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. You want him to forget about her. You want him to only think of you.

Naturally, that is a lot to live up too.

Beomgyu nods enthusiastically, somehow managing to come across as adorable in this situation. “Yes, please. Take it all off.”

He tries to reach out to do it himself but you shake your head, pushing him onto the bed.

“No. We do this my way.” You tell him, and he nods again, keeping himself in check.

You reach for the zipper on your dress, hesitantly letting it fall to the floor. You aren’t wearing any bra so now you are almost nude except for your panties as you stand in front of him.

“Fuck. You’re so hot.” He takes his cock into his hand, pumping it as he leers at you. You should feel dirty having him openly masturbate to the sight of you but it makes you feel so fucking good about yourself. It’s just what you needed–for him to show you how much he wants you. “Please, take off your panties too. Wanna see your pussy.”

Despite his lewd display–or more accurately because of it–you’re given the courage to finally fully undress yourself in front of him, overcoming years of insecurities of what he’ll think of your body and any unfavorable comparisons he might make.

“Oh fuck–” He licks his lips, squeezing his cock as he stares at your pussy. “You’re perfect.”

“You think so?” You ask demurely, trying to hide your shock. Is he really telling the truth? It feels like it but you still need confirmation after years of doubting yourself.

“God, yes. Your tits are divine. I wanna suck on them and play with them all night. Your little pussy is so pretty, I wanna be buried in it forever. Come here, please, ride me, sit on my face, anything…”

Is this what you were worried about all these years? He looks pretty fucking happy with what he’s seeing. Why were you so scared? You’re so mad at yourself for wasting all this time with self-doubt when you could’ve had him long ago.

“You really need that?” You throw your panties at him, feeling more confident than ever after his proclamations. “Isn't this usually enough for you?”

“No, please, you said you’d give me a reward." He whines, distraught at the thought of you being so close but not attainable yet again. "I’ve been good.”

“Have you?” You scoff, straddling him, pressing your pussy against his cock and his body goes limp, letting you do what you want. “You’ve been nothing but a horndog, getting your rocks off wherever you can, whether it’s backstage getting sucked off by her or stealing my panties and fisting your cock with them. You’ve been such a bad boy.”

“I’m sorry.” He slurs, mouth hanging open.

"Are you? You seem to be enjoying this."

"I'm sorry." He repeats again, staring at your pussy as it moves forwards and backwards over his cock, covering it in your slick.

"You're fucking hopeless, Beomgyu. You'd do anything to get a piece of me, huh?"

"Yes." He nods eagerly, "Can you sit on my face?"

You laugh, climbing up his body until you’re hovering over his face and digging your fingers in his hair to keep his head down so he wouldn’t make any unwanted moves before you’re ready. "Is my pussy the only thing on your empty brain?"

"Uh-huh." He says dumbly, almost going cross eyes with the way he's staring at your pussy. You fucking love it. This is what you needed–to be needed. And Beomgyu gives it all to you without you even asking for it.

"Good boy." You tell him and he shoots you a searing look at that–at you finally calling him that again–before you sit down on his face.

You try not to put too much weight on him, not wanting to hurt him but Beomgyu has other ideas. He grabs your ass and pulls you down on his ready mouth, tongue flicking out to give eager licks to your already wet pussy.

"Bad–bad boy–" You hiss, pulling at his hair but he won't let go, too intent on eating you out, nuzzling his whole lower face into your pussy, his tongue and lips alternating between long messy licks and needy sucking motions, his nose brushing against your clit every now and then in his fervor.

"Fuck, Beomgyu slow down."

But that word isn't in Beomgyu's dictionary, not when he's wanted this for so long. His fingers dig into your ass, making sure you can’t escape as his tongue presses inside your hole, flicking around as much as he can while your pussy flutters around it.

"So good–tastes so good." He slurs, drool and your juices covering his lower face but he doesn’t even care. In fact if anything it turns him on if his hard, leaking cock that you see when you throw a glance backwards is anything to go by.

"You fucking the air, Beommie?" You pant, not faring much better than him but needing to tease him anyway. "Need my pussy this bad?"

But Beomgyu can't be teased. Not when he's so shameless.

"Yes. Will you sit on my cock?"

"How bad do you need it?" You sit up, pulling away from him and cutting off strings of your combined need.

"So bad. Feels like I might die without it."

"You sound like a horny fuckboy, Beommie. You know I only like good boys." You chastise, and Beomgyu shoots back, "Is that why you’re dating a whore?"

You growl, sinking back on his face, this time not caring so much about your weight over him. "Don't talk about Yeonjun like that."

He turns his face to the side to nip at your thigh in protest so you just straighten his head again and sit down on him fully, not allowing him any space to move. "You know the only whore here is you. So stick your tongue out like a good whore and let me ride it or I'll leave your dirty cock all red and weeping."

He whines in fear, sticking his tongue out for you, not daring to risk it. You move yourself over him, grinding your pussy over his tongue as he stares up at you pleadingly.

“You like it, baby? You like me using you to get off?”

He moans out in response, not having any other way to communicate his agreement and not willing to pull away from you. But you hear a wet noise coming from behind you and you look back to see him fisting his cock, clearly excited by it all. He wants this as much as you do. He has been begging for it for so long, and so you’re not so cruel as to make him take his hand away, but you need to make sure your excitement doesn’t end too soon.

“Fuck, you really wanted this, huh? Can’t help yourself whenever you get a taste of this pussy?” You tease, and he whines again, his cock thrusting into his own fist pitifully. “But don’t get too excited. You want to feel this pussy around you, don’t you?”

The needy noises he keeps letting out vibrate against your pussy, driving you even wilder as you pull on his hair harshly and desperately grind yourself on his tongue, your high so close you could taste it.

“Good boy, gonna make me cum… you want it? Want me to cum all of that pretty face?” You growl, and his hands leave his cock to grab your ass, pressing you so tightly against him, you worry that he won’t be able to breathe.

But Beomgyu clearly loves it. He wants you to do it. He moves your hips so you’re fucking his face harder, faster, all while those slutty eyes of his never leave your face.

“I’m cumming–fuck, Beommie… good boy–” You scream, shuddering as you cum over him. But as you stop moving, paralyzed by the intense orgasm, he starts moving his tongue, lapping up every drop you let out, giving your pussy open mouthed filthy kisses as he wraps his lips around you and eagerly sticks his tongue into your hole to get even more.

You have to pull away from him when it becomes too much, and Beomgyu chases after you, not having had his fill yet somehow. He's still so needy that he ends up pushing you down and laying over you, his lips incessant against yours as his cock lays heavy on your pussy.

You tug on his hair, finally detaching his lips from yours. "That's enough, Beomgyu."

“I made you cum.” He says in a daze, a stupid smile on his face.

“Yes, you did.” You wipe his bottom lip with your thumb before sticking it in his mouth, letting him suck on it. It’s useless of course. The entire bottom half of his face was glistening with your cum. Not that you were actually trying to clean him up. You liked seeing him covered in you too much. “Ready for your reward, baby?”

“Fuck, yes, please.” He groans, his hips bucking up against you, gliding his cock against your wet pussy. "Wanna fuck you so bad. Can I put it in now?"

"Are you gonna keep being a good boy for me? Gonna listen to my instructions and not let your cock take over your dumb brain and make you hump me like a dog?"

He shakes his head even though he was literally humping you right now. "I'll listen. I'll be so good."

"Okay, Beommie. You can put it in–slowly!"

He rushes to push his cock inside your pussy, only stopping when it's all the way inside you. "Oh god–I'm finally inside you. Wanted it for so long."

This is exactly what you had been missing. This is what you needed that Yeonjun wasn't able to give to you. Beomgyu isn't shy when expressing how much he wants you. He'll beg and plead until you give it to him.

"Can I move, baby?" He asks, voice strained with the effort of holding back.

You nod. "Go ahead. But slowly."

He makes a valiant effort, pulling his hips back and thrusting in slowly, shuddering every time his cock is fully enveloped by your pussy.

“Good?" You ask as if his mouth wasn't hung open, as if his eyes weren't all hazy, as if he wasn't holding onto you for dear life.

"So good. Can't believe I'm fucking you."

Neither can you. You had really begun to lose hope but here you are, laid on your back with Beomgyu fucking you, following your instruction as best he could–the strain of it obvious on his face. It's everything you wanted and you finally have it.

"Can I touch your tits?" He pleads, giving you his classic puppy eyes and you smile. "Go ahead, honey."

He groans, reaching out and cupping them in his hands. "Oh god. Missed them." He leans down and attaches his lips to them, biting and kissing all over them as his hips pick up speed.

"Beomgyu…" You warn, pulling on his hair. He fights against you, looking up but not detaching from your tits. "Don't get ahead of yourself now. You want me to feel good too, don't you?"

He nods, his face still firmly buried in your lips but finally letting go of your nipple to moan out, "Yes, wanna make you feel better than anyone else."

His own words rile him up and he bites down on the skin next to your areola, making sure not to hurt you but still expressing his frustration.

"You're such a bratty baby." You scold him, but in reality you love it. You love how possessive and needy he is acting. It doesn't allow a single negative or insecure thought to enter your mind. How could it when he's so obvious about his need for you? "You can go faster now, baby."

"Oh, thank you." He groans, hips picking up speed.

"Better, honey?" You pant, brushing his wet hair out of his face so you can fully see how lost he is in the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him.

"So much better. Never wanna stop." He leans down, kissing you harshly, lips opening and closing around yours, his tongue pressing into your mouth hungrily. His hands grab at your thighs, pushing them against your body as he goes even faster, a constant stream of whines and whimpers released into your mouth.

You force yourself to sober up despite the smoldering fire breaking out in your body from the way he's fucking you so good. You want him to keep going. You want him to keep fucking you until your mind has turned to mush and your limbs have turned to jelly. But you can’t let him have it this easily. You can't let him get away with the amount of pain and suffering he has caused you. He needs to feel it too, even if just a fraction of it. He needs to feel the longing and despair he has made you feel for so long.

"Slow down." You order, pulling his head away from you, doing it extra mean just the way he likes it.

"No, no, please." He cries, not slowing down. "Please… I thought this was a reward. You’re driving me crazy."

"Do you want me to push you down and tie your hand to the headboard to make sure you behave?" You threaten, trying to keep your voice under control against the incessant thrusts of his cock into your poor pussy. "It's only gonna be worse for you."

"No. No. Wanna keep touching you." He blabbers, hands groping at every inch of you he could reach, worried you'd make good on your threats.

"Then be good." You suck in a sharp breath as he pulls on your nipples before kneading the soft flesh.

"I will. I'm your good boy, right?" He slurs, his hips slowing down.

Damn, he's really addicted to hearing you say that, huh?

"Yes, you are. You’re my best boy." You coo, stroking his soft hair and he nuzzles into your hand like a puppy, seeking any form of contact with you.

"Thank you." He groans, fingers digging into your skin as he tries to hold himself back, his poor cock screaming at him to just take you like he wants. "So pretty. Look so pretty getting fucked."

"Yeah? Is it how you imagined it when you'd fuck my panties?" You ask but once again Beomgyu has no shame, his hips faltering at the reminder of his debauched actions.

"Better. So pretty. So tight. Could stay in your cunt forever." He almost drools at the thought, and you really believe he'd love to do just that.

"Dirty boy. Dirty little boy going all dumb for me." You stroke his face lovingly and he peers at you with pleading eyes. "Baby, please, hurts… can I go faster?"

"Aw, poor pup, do you need to hammer your cock into my pussy that bad?" You scold, giving his face light slaps.

"Uh-huh… will make you feel good. I promise." He babbles, his hips already going faster as if he's sure you'll give him permission.

"No." This may or may not be the one and only time you get to fuck him. You need to savor it. "Slow down."

Your hands go to his hips, clawing at his skin to slow down his thrusts and he relents, albeit begrudgingly. "You're so mean."

"But you love it." You laugh at his tearful pout. "God, you love it so much you can't stop shaking your hips like a whore. It's like you've never been fucked before.”

"I haven't. You’re my first.” He admits, knocking any remaining breath out of your lungs.

This is his first time. He and Haeun never did it? What the fuck?

"Did you let him fuck you?" He asks, and you stay silent. He knows you’ve fucked Yeonjun. There is no way he thinks you live with Yeonjun and aren’t fucking him. But then again, he hasn’t fucked Haeun, and you were so sure that he did.

"Did you?" He asks again, an edge to his voice and you nod minutely. "I didn't know. I thought you and Haeun–"

Beomgyu's whole face changes. "God, you're such a slut. Fucking two men at the same time."

You immediately get defensive. Yeonjun was your boyfriend. You had dated for months. You’re not a whore for fucking him. It would be more understandable if he’s referring to the fact (or what he thinks is a fact) of you fucking him when you have a boyfriend, but you’re almost certain that’s not what he’s upset about. He’s just jealous you’ve fucked Yeonjun at all. "Just because she won't let you put it in, doesn't make me a slut."

That just angers him more, and he practically bends you in half as his dick pumps in and out of you at a brutal pace, his anger at what you’ve done making him lose it, not caring about your instructions anymore. "I hate you."

You laugh, fighting hard to hide the pain his statement elicits in your gut as well as to keep your voice steady as he practically plows his cock into you. God, he makes you so mad but he’s fucking you so good.

"But you sure love my pussy."

"My pussy." He growls, catching you off guard once again. He bends his head down to kiss your neck harshly, and can already feel the marks blooming there under his teeth. "Mine. Not his. All mine."

"What?” You sputter. Is this it? Is this how he confesses to you? “Beomgyu, what–”

"Shut up." He smacks your ass, not willing to hear your protests right now. "You've played with me long enough. Now be good and take it."

Played with him? What the hell is he talking about? You’ve never played with him. But any attempt to get a sane answer out of him right now is useless as the sounds of skin slapping against skin fills the room and Beomgyu latches his mouth onto yours, trying to dominate you in a way he has never attempted to do before–as if he’s trying to prove that you really are his.

And you are. He may not know it but you’ve always been his.

But his strong facade is paper-thin and you can see right through it to the insecure boy below when he pulls back to look at you. “Fuck, why did you have to be so pretty?”

“Make me cum, Beommie.” You murmur, moving a hand between your bodies to rest over your pussy, your middle and index fingers on either side of his cock as it fucks into you. “Do you feel how wet I am for you? I’m soaking the bed, baby.”

“Fuck…” He pulls your hand away, taking a look at how wet it has become already before he grunts and pushes one of your thighs against the bed to allow space for his own hand between your bodies, quickly finding your pussy to rub your clit.

“Oh… oh, fuck… baby…” You gasp, back arching as you’re quickly hurled towards your orgasm. “That’s it, honey. Make me cum on your big cock.”

He groans, his hips stuttering as your pussy begins to clench around him. “Don’t talk like that. Gonna make me lose it.”

“It riles you up when I talk dirty to you? Tell you how good you're fucking me?”

He nods.

“Dirty boy.” You moan out for him, “Do it. Empty that cock inside me. Want my pussy dripping with you.”

“Holy s-shit,” Beomgyu cries, and you feel his cum shooting inside of you, his hips not stopping for a second. And though his thrusts become erratic, his thumb keeps up its assault on your clit until your pussy is clamping down on his cock and milking the last drops of cum from him. “Good girl. My good girl.”

He fucks you through your orgasm, babbling on about how pretty you are and how well you took it. He looks so fucking pathetic with his shiny eyes and needy whimpers that before you even know it, he’s ripping another orgasm out of your already fucked out body.

“Goddammit, Beomgyu…” You squeal, toes curling at the very intense second orgasm, your body shuddering with the unexpected sharp waves of pleasure racking through it. And through it all, Beomgyu continues fucking you. You can feel his cock begin to harden once again inside you, and as the brutal second orgasm leaves your body, you wince at the overstimulation, putting your hands against his sweaty chest and starting to push him away.

“That’s enough, Beomgyu. I can’t take any more.”

But he resists you, shaking his head. “One more. Please, one more.”

“No.” You tell him firmly, “Don’t be bad. Pull out.”

He searches your face for any hint of leniency, his big pretty eyes trying to convince you to change your mind but you can’t. He’s fucked you so hard, your poor pussy requires a much needed rest.

You both watch as he slowly pulls out, his once again hard cock glistening with your cum and his, his seed dripping down your ass now that he wasn’t plugging your pussy up.

“Oh, baby, does that hurt?” You coo, grabbing his cock. He lets out a sigh of relief as you begin stroking it. “Yeah. So bad.”

The little shit is milking this, but you play along. “Poor baby. Let me make it go away.” You grin, suddenly speeding up, the slide of your hand so easy when his cock is well-lubricated. You make sure to maintain your position, with him hovering over your splayed open body so he can rake his eyes over it, and you clearly seeing him struggling to choose where to look between your tits that jiggle as you jerk him off quickly, the cum leaking out of your puffy pussy, and your swollen lips as you swipe your tongue over them.

It doesn’t take long for you to have him spilling his seed again, landing on your tummy as he doubles over and buries his head in your neck.

“That’s it, good boy.” You praise him, using your free hand to stroke his long hair that you love so much.

You let him lay there for a whole, catching his breath that is so irregular and stuttered that you almost don’t notice when he starts crying if it wasn’t for the hot tears falling on your skin.

“Beomgyu?” You call out, and a heart-breaking sob breaks out of his chest.

"Please, come back to me." He croaks against your neck.

"What?" You sit up, making him sit up with you and pulling his face away from your shoulder so you can look at him, your heart sinking at the tears streaming down his face. "I can't fucking bear seeing you with him any longer. It hurts so much."

Oh fuck.

"Beomgyu… Yeonjun isn't–" You try to explain that you and Yeonjun had broken up but he cuts you off.

"It's not him, it's you!" He shouts, "I love you and I can't bear it any longer. And I know it's selfish and that you don't love me back, at least not in that way, but then you keep messing with me."

He loves you? He really loves you?

"But I thought you loved Haeun?" You need to know what exactly is happening with him and Haeun first.

"I thought I did too but whenever I'm with her, I find myself thinking of you. You’re always in my head, it ruins every moment I have with her. She hates you too, you know? She can't stand how much I love you. The reason we haven't fucked is not because she won't put out. It's because I only want you. I didn't want to lose it to anyone else but you."

"Beomgyu–"

"But you don’t fucking care. You just see me as your disgusting best friend who you can play with and push away when you're done with him and I can't even bring myself to hate you for it. That's how much I love you. So just please… please give me a break."

“You think I was playing with you?” The idea seems absurd to you. How can he possibly think that? You've done everything in your power to not show how much you love him but never in your wildest dreams would you think that would mean he would see it as you playing with him.

“Weren’t you? I mean the way you spoke to me… you always pushed me away. I had to beg each time for you to even kiss me.” He peers at you, pain and vulnerability shining in his eyes as he recalls the way you treated him.

Fuck, you've been so obsessed with not letting your love for him show that you've done the same thing to him you thought he was doing to you. Knowing that pain all too well, you can’t bear the thought of being the cause of it.

You grab his face in your hands and kiss him, intending to pour out your own feelings the same way he did, hoping to staunch the flood of heartbreak you’re witnessing and calm him down enough for him to realize you feel the same way.

But his reaction wasn't what you expected. He breaks down crying. "You're so cruel."

"No, no! I love you too!" Your hands are in a flurry around his face, wiping his tears, stroking his hair, caressing his cheeks, anything to calm him down.

"What? This is not funny." He sobs, looking like a wounded animal. Your heart aches at the sight.

"No, fuck, I've loved you for years! The whole friends with benefits thing I started was just an excuse to have a way to be with you."

He stares at you in utter shock, the confusion the only thing stopping his tears from drowning you. "But you never even hinted that you liked me. You called me all kinds of names, freak, disgusting, pervert…"

"I thought you liked these..." You trail off sheepishly.

"I did but it still makes a guy think.” He mumbles, his fingers playing with yours nervously. “You wouldn’t let me touch you or kiss you."

"I was afraid if I let you kiss me, I wouldn't want you to stop. And I didn’t want you to touch me because I was afraid you wouldn’t like what you saw." It sounds so silly now that you're saying it out loud–now that you know he loves you and has wanted you just as badly.

"That's stupid. I had already seen it all." He tells you casually and you frown. "When?"

"You don't always shut the door when you're changing." He shrugs.

"Pervert!" You gasp, hitting him with no real power behind it. "What about you? You never hinted at anything either. You only ever talked about my body."

"Well, it did start just physical but I quickly realized that I'm in love with you. Then I kept only mentioning your body because you'd freak out on me whenever I hinted at anything else."

"Fair." You pout, realizing you’ve done as much to hurt yourself as he did.

"I didn't want to let it show that I loved you because I was so afraid you'd pull away like you did a couple of times. And then you were with Yeonjun and it fucking killed me so I had to pretend it was just sexual."

"Oh god, that's exactly what I've been doing.” You cover your face with your hands, mortified at your stupidity. We're fucking dumbasses."

“Yes, we are.” He replies fondly, taking your hands away from your face so you can look at him, refusing to let you hide anymore. "So you'll break up with him and be with me?"

"We broke up a while back.” You admit sheepishly. “He said he can't be with me when you and I are clearly in love with each other."

“So let me get this straight, Yeonjun could tell we love each other but somehow we, the two people involved, didn’t have a clue?” He raises an eyebrow at you and you nod. “I think it’s safe to say we won’t be winning any genius awards anytime soon.”

“We could win the biggest dumbasses award though.” He cracks a smile, pulling you close to him and resting his forehead against yours.

“No one could even compete.” You grin, kissing him. He immediately deepens the kiss, frantic and hungry still.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down, Beommie. We have all the time in the world.” You tease as if you weren’t just as needy, making him whine. “I can’t help it. You made me yearn for so long.”

“Yearn? Oh, that’s bad. I made you use the word yearn.”

He yanks your legs up, sending the rest of your body flying backwards and hitting the mattress, your loud giggles quickly covered by his mouth as he kisses you harshly, his teeth biting down on your lips in annoyance when you still don’t stop laughing.

“Stop it.” He whines in defeat as he pulls back, and you try to keep your giggles under control, his pout is entirely too devastating to look at.

"Are you gonna break up with her?" You ask and he doesn't hesitate to say, "Of course."

That makes you smile, happy with how easily he chose you, but then a thought pops into your mind and you frown. "You know, I hated her but I still feel kinda bad for fucking you behind her back." You really do. You've never condoned cheating, even if it was on someone as vile as Haeun.

"Oh you mean the same way she fucked the whole football team?" He counters and you gape at him, "God damn. Why did you even stay with her for that long?"

He shrugs. "Needed a distraction. And to not come across as a loser in front of you. I mean you were with Yeonjun. I couldn't just be alone."

"Oh, honey…" You coo, but anything you planned to say is suddenly forgotten as you feel his cock pressing against your entrance.

"Beommie!" You squeak. “What are you doing?”

"You thought we were done? You spread your legs for my bandmate. I'm gonna have to look at him every day knowing he had you first. I gotta make sure you and everyone else knows who exactly you belong to."

It may not be the most healthy coping mechanism, but you’ll let him have it for now. You’re sure you wouldn't be very happy if you were in his position either. Besides, getting to fuck Beomgyu isn’t exactly what you would consider a punishment.

_________

A/N: Click here for the Yeonjun ending on Patreon.

Also for my patreons, you could suggest a scene from gyu's pov and I'll choose one. There will also most likely be some drabbles about oc and gyu's life after the ending (mostly smut featuring our favorite desperate boy lol) and some will be released on tumblr and others will be exclusive to patreon.

Patreons may also suggest a continuation of a previous fic/drabble. I will do my best to release at least something monthly on there.

Taglist: @blxxsss@sanasour@tinkw1nks@lol6sposts@zuzuhasablog@beomsl@seolis-world@stantxtorurmissingout@wonwooz1@yaorzu-blog@allylikesdabee@rkivezzs@malieno@leviathanlee26@yomomas-stuff@kurisaiyunobara@girlwholovekpop@zuzuhasablog@viaaasdiary@ho3forkpop@skzvcr@th3-3d3n-g4rd3n @izzyexe @boomfrogg @kpop-cakepops-recs @chronicallygyu @girlwholovekpop

#txt smut #dom!reader #sub!idol #tomorrow x together smut

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marvelouslizzie · 7 months

Text

Why Are You Doing This To Me?

summary: Your ex-boyfriend Bucky Barnes wrote two songs about (for) you and you don’t know what to do.

pairing: Ex!Rockstar!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

warnings: Angst, a past failed relationship, pettiness, jealousy, anger, a lot of emotions, no mention of y/n.

word count: 2.3K

A/N: I have been away for a while because I was busy learning another language aka Dutch. I still am but at least I am done with my big exam. As soon as I was done with it, I found myself writing again.

This is a random idea that just popped into my head while listening to music and taking a walk. Pure angst for some reason. Usually, I go for smutty ideas but bear with me.

>> indicates incoming messages and << indicates outgoing messages in this story.

Thank you @notafunkiller for proofreading and editing this so fast ❤️

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

Keep reading tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.

>> Hey! I know you don’t want to hear anything about Bucky, but I think you should check these out. I think he wrote these songs for you.

Two links from Spotify follow the text you received from one of your best friends, and you stare for a while, trying to decide what to do. You really don’t want to hear his voice. Not because you don’t like his singing or his songs, but you wanted to get back on your feet. It would be impossible if you kept listening to his songs. Besides, hearing his voice has always softened you. And your best friend knows this. She knows a lot about your relationship, how everything went down, and how you two eventually broke up. If she didn't think you should listen to these songs, she wouldn't be sending you these links, right?

You take a deep breath and click on the first link. The song starts to play, and you notice the soft vibe right away. It’s not particularly Bucky’s style. He sounds like he’s in pain but he's singing with such clarity that surprises you.

He talks about how much he regrets the things he didn’t do when he was with you. How he misses you so much every day. How much he wants to call you, but he’s afraid that you won’t pick up the phone or worse, you will talk to him like a stranger. He says he always knew how precious you were, yet he took you for granted.

The lyrics flow flawlessly. It sounds like poetry to your ears. The way he expressed himself so beautifully… You can’t believe he wrote such a heartfelt song about you, and it’s not even his style. He’s a freaking rockstar. He usually writes about sex, rock and roll, and drugs. Not feelings. Then the song finally reaches the chorus and his words make you freeze.

“You are the love of my love.”

Did he really just say that? Did he just call you the love of his life? You feel this rush of emotions, and it’s hard to distinguish what you are actually feeling. It makes it harder to think, harder to focus on anything else other than the fact that this song is for you. That’s when you notice the name of the song. It’s the Love of My Life.

Suddenly, you start to feel angry. Every other emotion just takes a backseat. You hate him. So fucking much! Why is he always like this? Saying everything a little too late. Was it so hard for him to tell you this when you wanted to find just one reason to stay with him? You begged him to communicate with you maybe a million times. He always said it was not easy for him to put his feelings into words. Good or bad. It didn’t matter. He always struggled with his emotions. You tried your best. You tried to show him that he could trust you, that you would always be there for him, but it didn’t matter in the end. You felt like you were the only one trying to make this relationship work.

That’s when you decided to give up. It felt like he just didn’t care enough. He didn’t put any effort into changing things or making you feel like you weren’t just beating a dead horse.

You hoisted the white flag and moved on with your life. That’s when he decides to put whatever he feels into words. Instead of talking to you, he makes a song about it. Then he puts it out into the world.

What a fucking asshole!

It takes you a while to realize the song is over as the silence fills the room. As much as you hate how he chose to do this, the silence disturbs you. It might be a little too late, but you still want to hear what he has to say. Your own rules about not listening to any of his songs instantly go out the window.

You open the messaging app and click on the second link. This one sounds a little bit more like his usual style. The name of the song though, instantly catches your attention this time. It’s one of the nicknames he used often for you.

He starts the song by saying that he knows how selfish he is. That he has no right to feel this way, but he just saw you with someone else and he hated how it made him feel. He talks about how jealous he is. How he can’t help but imagine you in that guy’s arms. Then he realized you might call him baby, just like you used to call him. Then he continues by begging you not to call him baby, how he wants you to save that pet name for him even though he’s not in your life anymore.

There are so many details throughout the song that indicate he’s talking about you, there is no mistaking. He calls you by your nickname, saying how he loves the way you talk passionately about your interests, how compassionate you are, and how much effort you put into maintaining your relationship but he was too stupid and pathetic to appreciate them.

Every word that comes out of his mouth makes you even angrier. How dare he? How dare he write a song like this for you? After everything you have been through, after all the effort you put into your relationship, after every heartbreak… He realizes how much he values you just because he saw you with someone else.

Selfish bastard!

He has no right to put these words out there. He has no right to feel jealous. You are not his anymore. You can call someone else baby if that’s what you want. How dare he try to dictate to you like this? It makes you wanna call someone up and go out on another date and call him baby, just in spite.

The problem is, it’s just your stubborn nature talking. Before this song, you didn’t even think about calling someone else baby. You didn’t feel like it. Subconsciously, you were reserving that pet name for him. And that fucker knew it. He just knew it!

You exhale deeply, trying to calm yourself down. The song is over, but you can still hear him singing in your head. The song is so beautiful. Petty but so fucking beautiful. He sounds like he poured his heart out without caring how vulnerable it makes him look.

Another deep breath, you try to understand which date he is talking about. You have been on a couple of dates since you two broke up. You were so dedicated to moving on. You didn’t care if it would hurt him. Because he didn’t care about how much he hurt you all those times you tried your hardest to make things work. So you went out with a couple of gentlemen. Some of them were decent, and some of them were downright horrible. Dating is just as tedious as you remembered. A lot of assholes out there who don’t care who they are hurting. You didn’t get hurt, though. You didn't care enough about any of them to give them the power to hurt you.

Then it finally hits you. He’s talking about your date with that motherfucking movie star! That one was big news for a while. You got photographed two, maybe three times together.

You really looked like you were having fun in those photos. Truthfully, you were, he was such a funny guy. He knew how to make fun of himself. You were just so tired of pretentious asses. It was refreshing. That’s why you said yes to a second and a third date. Then he was off to a European country to shoot his next movie. You had a fun and it was more than enough for you.

You precisely remember that tabloids started to talk about how perfect you two were for each other. God, that must have gotten under his skin. You can’t help but laugh. He’s so predictable. He just couldn’t bear to see you with someone else, but can you blame him?

You remember seeing something similar about him, but in that case, he wasn’t on a date with the girl. They were just working together for some lame-ass project he would normally despise. Maybe he was trying to keep himself busy, who knows? You remember so vividly how she was looking at him like she wanted to eat him up. As if that wasn’t enough, she kept praising him, calling him the best rockstar of the century just to get in his pants. You have no idea if it worked or not, but it was enough to make you feel jealous. So can you blame him for feeling the same?

It just makes you realize you want to listen to those songs again. It’s maybe too little too late but you still want to hear him. You wanted him to talk about his feelings for such a long time and he’s finally doing it. Through a song but still, he’s doing it. It isn’t exactly communicating because communication must be two-sided, right? That’s what was missing in your relationship. You were talking, pleading, trying while he was keeping everything in. You feel like the roles are reversed. Now he’s the one talking, pleading, and trying, and you just don’t know what to do. How the tables have turned.

The second time around, you notice other details you missed the first time. Like peaceful walks you took together whenever you had the time or how you always used fake names when you two traveled together. You can’t help but miss those days. Even though you had problems, being with him always felt so safe and peaceful. You have no idea how he managed to make you feel that way. Maybe that’s why it took you so long to end the relationship. You still miss the way you felt back then. As if you two could overcome anything together, yet you couldn’t. Because you didn’t work together. You were alone, struggling to make him talk.

Then he talks about how he still speaks to your friends, and that makes him miss you even more. That part surprises you because none of your friends mentioned that they were still seeing Bucky. Is that because you didn’t let them ever talk about him? You feared if you let yourself talk or think about him, you would go back to the point zero.

He ends the song saying he doesn't want you to be a distant memory, and this sticks with you. Do you want him to be a distant memory?

The second time you listen, you notice how desperate he sounds. The way he pleads doesn’t anger you anymore. You find something you feel in his words. Your own fears, your own selfishness and oh, how much you miss him. You didn’t let yourself admit that you miss him. You thought acting like he never existed, he was never a part of your life would make everything easier and it did. Just for a while. Lately, it was just a burden. You tried so hard to keep everything inside. Just like he did. You are still trying to do it… to act logically, not emotionally. Does it mean you are making the same mistake he did? Shutting yourself down, not talking about your feelings. Is it the solution or is it a part of the mistake? You can’t tell anymore. You just know that your heart is aching. The sound of his voice makes you want to cry.

God, you hate him so much!

How could he do this to you after all this time?

Is it that easy to get under your skin or was he always there?

You feel like you are about to explode because of all the emotions you are going through. On one hand, Bucky communicating with you is everything you wanted. On the other hand, isn’t it too late? And why did he write not one but two songs about you? Declaring his love to the world…

You repeat that last bit in your head. He’s declaring his love to the world.

He’s no longer afraid to talk about his emotions. He wants you to hear them, millions of other people are just the bonus. He’s not afraid to show how fucking miserable he feels. He just wants you back.

He’s doing his bit in communicating, but unless you don’t do something about it, it won’t matter. It will be another attempt in vain. You aren’t sure if you want to repeat the same pattern. You notice the song is over when your phone chimes. It’s your best friend again.

>> Did you listen?

<< Yeah.

>> How are you feeling?

<< Confused.

<< Are you still talking to him?

>> Yeah we all are.

<< Why didn’t you tell me that?

>> You said you didn’t wanna hear anything about him and we just respected your decision.

Just like you thought. You can’t blame them. Anytime someone mentioned anything remotely related to Bucky, you either changed the subject or found a reason to leave. So you can’t help but wonder…

<< How is he doing?

>> Not great. He misses you.

<< I miss him too.

>> Are you gonna call him?

You look at the message for a long minute. Are you gonna call him? That’s the question. Maybe you should. Maybe you shouldn’t. Both of the options sound equally wrong. You have no idea what to do.

<< I don’t know what to do.

>> Just give him a call. He’s the love of your life.

You have no idea how long you have looked at that text. Maybe for a couple of minutes, maybe for an hour.

He’s the love of your life.

He’s a bastard, but he really is the love of your life.

And you are the love of his life.

Where do you go from here? You look at your phone once again. You finally know what to do.

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pers1st · 3 months

Text

painkillers - alexia putellas x reader pt 2

pt 2 of dancing with the devil

pairing: alexia putellas x singer!reader

warnings: alcohol & drug abuse

songs used: you could start a cult - niall horan, painkillers - gracie abrams

If Lois noticed the tears threatening to spill from your eyes, he didn't mention it. You turned the radio on from the control in the back, desperate to escape the whistling thoughts in your head. They were bouncing from left to right, and all you could see was Alexia's face when she'd first spotted your bags. When she'd first realized you weren't going to spend the planned two days in Barcelona to watch her and Keira play. When she'd first realized you were leaving her.

Darling, I would give up everything...

You immediately turned the music back down. At this point, a tear rolled down your cheek and you wiped it away harshly, marking the skin a tint of red, leaving it stinging.

This song - Alexia had fallen in love with it once you'd showed it to her. Niall had reached out for a collaboration, as your manager had told you, and you, as always, wanted to hear your girlfriend's opinion. It had been before the start of her tour, and the two of you had been laying, bodies tangled, in her bed, sheets draped over your glistening nude bodies.

Alexia was the first person to hear every song you wrote, no matter where on the planet you were located, no matter how grainy her vision of you was, no matter how distorted your guitar or keyboard sounded out of her phone's speaker. She had loved it. She had urged - no, begged you to sing it to her that night, and all thought you had had to look up the lyrics, of course you had. You hated singing for other people when you were away from your job, wanting more than anything to not be the singer, but you did everything Alexia wanted, unable to refuse the dimples on her cheek when she smiled at your voice.

You took a sip of your water bottle. If Lois noticed there was vodka in it, he didn't say. At this point, you didn't even pull a face anymore, accepting the burn on your throat as a mere side effect.

Today, you deserved a drink. Leaving Alexia had, despite your preparation, hurt more than you had expected it to, and if you were going to have one last drink, one last bottle of vodka disguised as water, it was going to be today.

Once you touched down in Boston for your next concert, two days earlier than planned, you would stay sober.

The plane wasn't comfortable, though it was better than a commercial flight, and you fell asleep against your window the second you sat down, your head rolling against the cold glass in your deep slumber. The alcohol made you weary, and if Lois and Michael, your security, hadn't been watching you so closely, you would've dug into your purse for the bag of white powder, disguised under lipgloss, your polaroid camera and a whole bunch of other useless stuff. Just to ease the pain. Just to jerk you awake, maybe enough for a party later.

But you hadn't, and so instead, you had finished your water bottle and spent the minutes waiting to board in silence.

Your team was, at this point, used to your mood. They spent every day with you, and had been doing so for the past three months. At first, they had joined you on your parties and adventures happily, but now they were growing more and more concerned.

Michael noticed you took too long every time you went to the bathroom, steading yourself on his arms more and more each time. He noticed how you didn't react when you'd cut your leg on a broken bottle, shrugging the injury off before he could haul you away from the dance floor. He noticed how you called Alexia less and less, and he knew, when you'd announced you would simply be stopping by to gather some things in Barcelona, that the two of you were over.

The two of you had, at one point, been close enough for him to ask you why, but he knew now that you wouldn't answer. Speaking to you was touch and go, your mood never being predictable. Sometimes, the drugs made you angry and you lashed out on him, sometimes, the booze made you clingy and you swung your arm over his much taller shoulder to tell him how much you appreciated him, sometimes, everything was too much and you didn't speak at all.

Today was one of those days. You only awoke when the plane touched down in Boston, and you were passed out in the car once more. Finally falling into your hotel suite's double bed, you reached for the phone to dial room service. One last glass of wine. The vodka had upset your stomach, and you felt sick now. Wine was good for that. It made the slight ache in your gut disappear.

By the time you woke up the next morning, you were hungover, and Keira was upset.

"You have some explaining to do", Keira yelled over the phone when she had finally called you enough times for you to awake and answer her.

With squinted eyes, you stared at your best friend.

"Keira", you groaned, putting a hand to your forehead in an attempt to drown out the dull ache.

"No, don't Keira me. You broke up with her?!"

At this, you sat up, flicking on the little lamp on your bedside table.

"Did she tell you that?"

"She didn't have to."

A gulp found its way down your throat. Alexia was never one to show her feelings during football, and although her and Keira had grown quite friendly due to your relationship and the two of them being teammates. Still, you knew Keira wasn't the one she would go to about this. The fact that Alexia had been whatever enough for Keira to notice concerned you.

"What was I supposed to do? It didn't work anymore", you shrugged. The words twisted your stomach, and you were scared that if you took a deep enough breath in, the truth would spill out like bile. Keira didn't know any of your struggles. Keira didn't know why you had ended your relationship. Keira couldn't know.

"Make it work then! You two were so happy", Keira sighed.

"No, we weren't, Kei, and you know this. When was I supposed to make it work? I'm in the US until the end of the year, I'm touring through Europe afterwards. Ale and I... It was just time", you shrugged, wiping away the tears that once more appeared in the corners of your eyes.

"If a relationship doesn't work, you make it work!"

"Oh, like how you and Lucy did?!"

Silence fell between the two of you. You knew you had overstepped a line, but it didn't matter. Keira was overstepping too.

Keira took a deep breath in. You were right. She knew it too.

"So, how are you feeling?"

"Like the next album is going to be really fucking good."

Humor was a deflection for you and Keira knew it. She stared at you with a furrowed brow, nose crinkled.

"Just.. don't sulk, okay? Enjoy your tour, don't lock yourself in your room again. I can't wait to see you on Christmas."

A faked smile found its way onto your face. It was soft, not overdoing it just to ensure Keira would believe you. There was not a single cell of your body that cooperated with the way your lips tugged upwards, but it worked nonetheless. Keira smiled back at you.

"I've got to go now, we're meeting for the game soon. I love you."

"I love you too."

Keira was the only person, along with your mother, who had ever heard those words from you. Except for Alexia. Speaking them felt like a crime, but you were a criminal already. There was no way to undo what you had done, and Keira had told you to enjoy the rest of your tour. So that was what you did. Or, well, attempted to do.

In all honesty, the drugs were the only thing keeping you afloat. The oxycodone left horrible shadows under your eyes and when you awoke, you were sweaty, nauseous, you weren't yourself. Your team noticed it as well, and so did the bassist of your tour band, who kept supplying you with what he called "his good stuff".

Party after party, drink after drink, line after line. In all honesty, it was a miracle that you made it as long as you did.

Alexia hadn't heard from you since the breakup, officially. Unofficially, however, she watched every livestream of your shows with the fake TikTok account she had dedicated to saving videos of you. Your missing phone calls afterwards didn't go unnoticed, of course, but Alexia knew that there was no use in reaching out to you. She had tried, only to find out you had blocked her number, so instead of celebrating yet another successful show of yours via the phone, she wept and wept in the bed you had once shared, not allowing the shadows underneath her eyes to be visible to her teammates, nor the tearstained cheeks.

This livestream, a week after your breakup, was far more grainy than the prior ones. She assumed that there was bad connection, as she stared at Keira's iPad from the seat behind the strawberry blonde woman, but she was quite grateful for not having to see your face in as good quality, because she needed to listen, to focus, when you announced that you'd be playing a brand new song. This was her chance - her chance at finding out what exactly had caused her breakup. She had known that while traveling with the team, she wouldn't be able to watch the show the way she usually did, and as much as she hated to admit, she had chosen the seat behind Keira and Aitana strategically.

The two were sitting, heads together, in front of Kei's screen, staring at the grainy image of you wobbling around on your stage.

"I've written this song very recently, but I want to share it with you guys."

Ale's brows furrowed as Mapi, next to her, took out her earphones.

"Es Y/N?", your ex-girlfriend's best friend asked, nudging Ale's shoulder slightly.

"Sì´", Aitana answered, nodding with her eyes still focused on the screen. Mapi lunged herself forward, blocking Ale's view entirely, but the captain didn't have it in herself to complain. All she needed was to hear. The stream was loud enough for the rest of the bus to hear, and all though she wasn't the best in English, she had sure learned since being with you.

"I don't have a title just yet", you spoke into the microphone as soft chords began echoing through the speaker.

"So you might have to wait until I release it. If I release it."

Although she couldn't see, Alexia could envision the way you sat by your piano in a sea of a crowd, in a sold out stadium, with all the eyes on you, swaying softly with the flow of your melody.

I almost liked the way you fooled me

To make me feel like this would last forever.

But twice at night, I'd wake up sweating

To sleep without you here would do me better

I called you out and labeled you a problem

I should know that it takes one to know one.

Alexia sucked in a breath at that, as did everyone else. She had never heard your voice this monotone, this void of emotion, and it worried her. Above all else, though, she was confused. You had labeled her a problem? You would be better to sleep without her?

You represent the codependence,

I was down, you wore the shining armor.

The side effect is cold resentment,

Tricked me into thinking you were stronger.

She didn't understand. You had never been codependent on Alexia. The two of you had been a clingy couple, yes, but you had done your own thing, you had your own career, as did Alexia, and the both of you blossomed in sharing it. There had never been a moment where you had depended on her. And above all, you resented her? Then why had you cried when you'd left her? Why hadn't you been angry? Why had you never told her why?

Hold me slowly,

you don't even know me.

Home now, lights out,

pictures just destroy me.

Come through late, and

tell me that you want it bad.

"Whoa, Ale, ¿qué le hiciste an ella?” (What did you do to her?) Mapi whispered into her ear as the song ended and cheers erupted, and although Alexia had a few nasty remarks in her mind at what to tell her best friend, she was frozen in place. All of her teammates had been listening, and all of them were now staring at her. Just as Aitana's head vanished to the window, she caught a glimpse of you again, standing up from your seat wobbly.

A thought crossed her mind, for merely a second - Were you drunk?

But she didn't have time to think about it any longer, plugging her earphones in again, putting her head against the window to not watch the three songs she knew were left, shutting the world, and most importantly, her team out.

The silence didn't last long. The headlines came an hour later. That's what it had taken for her to realize that you hadn't sung about her at all. By the time the final whistle went in Madrid, she learned you were fighting for your life, somewhere in New Jersey. By the time the final whistle went in Madrid, her world was shattered in a totally different way.

notes: okay there’ll be a pt3 i promise !! sped home from work to write this bc i’m in love w this plot tbh, let me know what you think <3

#woso soccer #womens football #barcelona femeni #barca x reader #barca femeni #alexiaputellas #alexia putellas x reader #alecia putellas imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #Spotify

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ladyymiisa · 1 month

Text

ENTRANCED

summary: you’re japan’s most famous singer and hawks is your biggest fan

tags: hawks x f!reader, singer!reader, fanboy!hawks, feminine pronouns used for reader, fluff, hawks is such a loser i love him

author’s note: umm mha brainrot has been going crazy ever since the new season trailer dropped,, i might make a part two for this since im literally such a sucker for the popstar trope,, also this is such an indulgent fic for me i am so sorry chat

thinking about hawks.

hawks, who besides being japan’s number two hero, is also a man entitled to have his own passions and interests to indulge in, despite his incredibly busy line of work. and one of those interests is you.

radiant, talented, spectacular you, who japan had classified as its top favourite singer. rising to the tops in a short matter of time despite being a young adult, you’ve managed to make a name for yourself through your hard work. you had a certain image about you that lured people in, that made them want to see more of you.

you were absolutely gorgeous, with bright eyes that shone with excitement whenever you got on the stage, a smile that held nothing but affection for your fans as you talked to them during your meet-and-greets, and an aura so powerful that it made them want to have their eyes on you at all times. everyone was enamoured by you, and slowly but surely, hawks found himself caught in your love-net as well.

during one of his patrols (which was surprisingly peaceful considering the amount of people that usually stopped to either take a picture with him or ask for his autograph), he couldn’t help the whistle that fell from his lips upon seeing your image showcased on a luxurious shop’s glass window.

you had just recently done a collaboration with the brand, proudly showing off their clothes and accessories on your instagram stories—which he all hearted, by the way—and boy was he glad you did. the clothing embraced your body perfectly, hugging your curves and enhancing your attractiveness, as if you were made to wear them. you looked breathtaking, and hawks couldn’t find the strength to pry himself away from the glass window.

and don’t get me wrong, your appearance isn’t the only thing that lured him in. your voice won him over the second he decided to watch one of your music videos. the public wasn’t lying, your singing was mesmerising! despite how the music genre wasn’t particularly his favourite, the hero found himself going through all of your albums, singles and even listening to the songs you were featured on. after about three hours of continuous listening, hawks already had a playlist made with all of his favourite songs.

his favourite album is your first one. it really embraces your authenticity with its heartfelt lyrics and story behind it, about some of the hardest moments in your life. he remembers you saying in one interview that said album was the closest to your heart since it was the one that made you reach the tops, and also because it was the first album you wrote on your own. it was raw and sincere, much like the ones that came after, but it was clear that none could compare to the very first.

all in all, you could say that hawks is your biggest fan.

his apartment has a special corner in which he keeps all of your merch. from posters, vinyls, shirts and even exclusive plushies, this man has everything. sometimes he feels cringe for being such a diehard fanboy, but hey, he deserves to have the luxury of indulging in something as normal as having a small very big celebrity crush.

also, he definitely follows multiple stan accounts dedicated to you. pictures taken at any of your concerts? he has them saved. a very cool edit on tiktok of you while you’re performing? he’s hitting the like and favourite buttons immediately. like, this man spends countless hours looking at pictures of you on pinterest while he’s giggling and kicking his feet like a lovesick middle school girl.

and it’s no secret that hawks is your fan. almost everyone at his agency knows, especially since he makes no effort to hide it. not from his agency, and not from the media either. one time during a public interview, one reporter asked him if he had any favourite singers, in hopes of gathering more personal information about the hero, and hawks didn’t hesitate for a second before responding with, “y/n, of course! she’s incredibly talented and i love her music. i think i know all of her songs by heart, haha!” to which the media went wild.

of course, being the devious little shit that he is, hawks intentionally made the information public with the intention of gaining your attention. and to his delight, it did. not even a day after the interview was posted online, he woke up with two notifications from his instagram. the poor hero almost dropped his phone from ten feet up high in the air after reading the name of the account who messaged him.

y/nofficial

hey :)

heard you like my music, how about a free vip ticket to come meet me backstage after my next concert? <3

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enaus · 1 month

Text

❤︎— lover. (y. jungwon)

tumblr’s algorithm works best with reblog’s not just likes so pls reblog my work, thank you! <3

pairing: bf!jungwon x f!reader genre: romance, established relationship warning(s): lots of kissing, cuteness overload as always

synopsis: in which your boyfriend sings to you while you dance in the refrigerator light ;) wc: 523

author's note: hii everyone,, i got inspired by taylor swift’s lyric in the song all too well, “dancing in the kitchen in the refrigerator light.” n’ thought i’d write this. i do have my taglist open so if you want to be in it just send me a message in my inbox. as always, all feedback is welcome, just don’t be negative pls n’ remember to have a good time, happy reading everyone! 📖

The rain hit against the glass of the window, and the kitchen filled with the noises of the weather outside. Small puffs of air escaped your lips as you buried your head further into your lover, Jungwon’s chest. Your nose was met by the aroma of honey with a tinge of cinnamon, and as you lingered in his arms, the warmth of his skin allowed the scent you loved so dearly to pervade the air. His delicate but loving hold on your waist held your clingy form against his as you both swayed to his tunes.

Slight vibrations could be felt against your cheek coming from his chest. His humming and vocals filled your ears as you closed your eyes, the subtle melodies of Taylor Swift’s lover abruptly entering the sweet atmosphere. The dim light of the open refrigerator to the right of the kitchen allowed you to turn your face away from the warmth of the other and catch a glimpse of a few of his features that had been concealed by the night's deep shadows.

His eyes were closed, and a few strands of his hair hung messily around his forehead as his plump, pearly-pink lips parted as he sang. His eyelashes were as long as ever, and the light delightfully bounced off of them. His slender nose had the slightest bump at the top of the nasal bridge, and the shadows that roamed around the room shaded the structure of his jawline perfectly. It was times like this where you fell in love with him all over again.

"Are you okay?” The melodies that were once heard are long gone and have since been replaced by the dulcet tones of Jungwon's voice. As he drew your frame closer to his, he spoke with words that were dripping with care and concern.

Nodding, you let out a small sigh. As the warmth of his breath hit against your skin, your heart began to beat faster by the second, and the feeling soon replaced itself with the sweet sensation of a peck against your cheek.

Letting out a small giggle, you looked up at Jungwon, his eyes meeting yours almost immediately. His hands were moving from your waist now to your cheeks as he held your face in his hands, admiring your features. He stared at you with his eyes gleaming with such love and astonishment before bending down and pressing his lips against yours.

The kiss was sweet and tender, and the pace was slow and genuine, as it always was. The slight flavor of his cherry lip balm, which he had applied just an hour earlier, was long gone. His lips, which were now formerly covered in vanilla ice cream, entwined with yours.

Pulling away from the kiss, Jungwon stayed admiring the moment you two just shared; his eyes remained closed as a small smile placed itself amongst his lips. As he slowly opened his eyes to reveal you, the pad of his thumb made gentle, loving strokes against your cheek.

“What was that for?” You asked, smiling at your boyfriend, whom you loved so dearly.

“Because I love you.”

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calicoheartz · 16 days

Note

need need need something about Caitlin dating a famous popstar, think Sabrina carpenter

☆ espresso ; Caitlin Clark

summary : caitlin clark x pop star reader!

synopsis : you are the music scenes next hot thing , who happens to be dating worldwide famous wnba player (set a tiny bit into the future)

warnings : tiniest bit suggestive if you squint , pure fluff !

my master list ㇀♡

a/n: thank you to the lovely person who suggested this! i changed some of the lyrics in the song for it to make sense but it shouldn’t be too noticeable. Enjoy ◡̈

You were the music industry’s next hot thing. From performing at smaller venues, to headlining at Coachella; you were everywhere. Along with your wnba superstar, Caitlin Clark.

The two of you had met while you were preforming a gig at a local bar , a little right before you got your big break. Ever since then, the two of you had been inseparable. Both instantly drawn to each others passion and drive for your careers.

But with Caitlin’s demanding basketball schedule and your international shows and tours , maintaining your relationship proved to be a challenge. Only relying on calls , texts , and surprise visits whenever you can to steal a moment together amidst your busy lives.

It had been almost 3 weeks since you’ve seen your loving girlfriend. With the wnba draft and Coachella starting to kick off, the universe was simply pulling you two away from eachother.

You were sitting in your dressing room , preparing to go on stage to kick off the second weekend at the bustling festival , the biggest festival of the year for that matter. Your nerves were practically eating you alive, you knew she would be in audience. You toyed with your hair as your makeup artist finished the final touches of your look , as you fidgeted with the hem of your skirt. The skirt that perfectly hugged your curves , delicately adorned with lace and bows , your signature look.

You soon snapped back to reality, with the cheers from the audience slowly making its way into your mind. There was no doubt in your mind that this was the moment that could make or break your career. You planned on preforming your newly released song espresso , as a way to give your girlfriend a little treat on her first day back.

You made your way to the stage , sporting your signature beach waves and skimpy clothes, the intro to the song soon began and your eyes darted across the crowd. Begging to meet with the one pair of eyes you can call her own.

You hear the crowd begin to chant your name , you lock eyes with Caitlin briefly, sending a smirk your way. Prompting you to slowly begin to sway your hips as you begin to sing..

❝ now she’s thinkin’ ‘bout me every night oh, is it that sweet? I guess so ❞

you turn towards caitlin , seeing a big grin on her face , as she very well knows the melodic tune is referencing your whirlwind romance. Your hips continue to sway as the lyrics danced off the tip of your tongue , hitting every note in the process.

❝ And i got this one girl

And she won’t stop calling

when they act this way..

I know i got ‘em ! ❞

The crowd begins to scream , noticing your small wink towards caitlin , making it painfully obvious of your ode to her throughout the song

As the lyrics then again roll off your tongue like sweet honey, you continue to prance around the stage earning gasps and applause from the audience, and most importantly; a hungry gaze from your girlfriend. Her eyes practically undressed you as they wandered from your hips to your face, and vice versa. You immediately felt butterflies in your stomach, it had been so long since shes looked at you with those eyes. And as much as you wanted to jump off the stage and into her arms, you only had to finish the rest of the chorus and verse before concluding your set.

You began…

❝ I'm working late 'cause I'm a singer…Oh, she looks so cute wrapped around my finger! ❞

The music continues and you feel as if you are on cloud nine. If this doesnt fully establish your relationship with cait, then youre not sure what will. You practically feel her eyes burning into you as you resume your soft sways, slowly becoming more provocative as you reach near the end of the song. You hair slowly flows with the gentle breeze, as you shoot a glance towards your girlfriend, receiving a approving nod in return. You hear your cue, and make your way to the front to face the audience head on, you quickly hit your iconic signature pose while belting

❝ Mmm, that's that me espresso❞

And the audience erupts with claps and chants as you quickly exit the stage, locking eyes with your manager who signals you to head to the back. As you make your way down there, you feel a strong and warming embrace wrapped around your hips, with soft kisses peppering your neck. “Cait!” you squealed, unable to hide your excitement to see the brunette, she grins at your reaction, snaking her arm beneath you as she slowly begins to carry you to your dressing room.

She soon gently puts you down, as she gently begins caressing your cheek. “You did amazing” she muttered, “everytime you preform you never refuse to amaze me with the amount of talent that you have-” you cut her off with a deep and tender kiss, tasting the mango flavored lipbalm that glistened on her lips.

You giggle, simply muttering , youre my honey bee.. Come get this pollen ;)

anywaysss this is my go at pop star reader x cc !! tbh i feel like this is train wreck but you be the judge of that! tysm for reading 🎀

#caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark #iowa wbb #iowa hawkeyes #Iowa #caitmylove #kate martin #hawkeye #22 #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #wcbb x reader #wcbb #wlw imagine #wlw #sabrina carpenter

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lustfulslxt · 6 months

Text

Baby - Chris Sturniolo

summary : you and chris go live on instagram, cooking dinner in the kitchen, singing and dancing to music together while fans gush over how cute you are.

—

You were in the kitchen, pulling out all of the ingredients you needed to make dinner. Your playlist on shuffle, softly playing in the atmosphere. You had a clean house, a free weekend, you were making your favorite dinner, and spending the night with your boyfriend. You were content.

"Gorgeous?" Chris speaks in a sing song voice, trailing behind you.

You hum in acknowledgement, still laying everything out.

"Can I help you?" He asks, linking his arms around your waist, planting his head on your shoulder.

"Of course, so long as you don't mess anything up."

He places a soft kiss on your neck, pulling away from you with his hands in surrender, "I promise. I'll do whatever you need me to."

You give him a smile and nod in agreement, softly pecking his lips.

On the counter, laid a pot, a skillet, a plastic spoon, noodles, oil, seasonings, jars of sauce, chicken, and heavy whipping cream.

"Fill this pot up with water." You instruct him, "Once you're done with that, place it on the big burner, on high."

He gives you a salute, "Yes, ma'am."

You knew he had the gist of it, but you wanted to be extra and explain every little thing to him. He followed your instructions, very simply. Once the pot of water was on the stove, he turned to you, expectantly.

“We’ve got to wait for it to come close to a boil before we start the chicken, that way they’re done at the same time.” You tell him.

He nods, before going to your phone and turning the music up. “Want to go live?”

After pondering for a split second, you agree and he logs onto Instagram and starts the live. Soon enough, there were thousands of fans watching.

“Hi guys!” You exclaim, standing next to Chris.

He greeted them as well, tossing an arm around your waist. The fans went crazy over it, causing you to lightly blush. Your music had stopped for a second, changing to the next song, which was Baby - Justin Bieber.

“Aw shit!” Chris grins, propping his phone up and pulling you back into the middle of the kitchen “Oh woah, oh woah, oh woah.” He sings, twirling you around.

Your laughter fills the air as the two of you sing and dance, oblivious to the fans screen recording and blowing the comments up, gushing over your relationship.

“She make my heart pound, and skip a beat when I see her on the street. And at school on the playground, but I really wanna see her on the weekend. She knows she got me dazing, cause she was so amazing.”

Even though it was just a song, with the way he was staring into your eyes and singing every lyric to you, while shamelessly dancing around the kitchen, in front of thousands of people, you nearly melted. The smallest things had you falling harder every day.

He pulled you into a soft kiss, not having a care in the world about the live. He loved you and he was never afraid to express it. Once he let you go and continued dancing like a fool, you went back to get the chicken started, a deep blush coating your cheeks.

You cut the chicken up, seasoned it, and put it in the skillet with oil. Next, you started the noodles. As that was going to take some time, you went back to join Chris and his shenanigans.

“I must apologize for acting stank and treating you this way.” You sing with him, “Cause I’ve been acting like sour milk all on the floor, it’s your fault, you didn’t shut the refrigerator. Maybe that’s the reason I’ve been acting so cold.”

You both laugh again, enjoying everything about the night you’re having. Chris pulls you in the direction of his phone, so you guys could read some comments and interact with the viewers for a moment.

“You guys are the cutest.” Chris reads out loud, turning his head towards you with a proud smile on his face.

“True love.” You read another comment, nodding in agreement as you looked back at him, staring in pure adoration.

“The love of my life.” He whispers, only you being able to hear him.

That didn’t stop fans from dissecting what he said through the movement of his lips, and they went absolutely barnacles. The way Chris admired everything about you and was relentless with his affection, made them crazy. They truly loved your guys’ relationship.

He pulled you into him once again, just holding you in his embrace. His scent pleasantly engulfed you as you deeply inhaled, taking in every second of it all. He was warm and you felt safe and content, you felt home.

“Y’all, I’m gonna marry this girl one day.” Chris tells the live, causing your face to heat up as the biggest smile pulled to your lips.

“Stop, you’re making me blush.” You giggled in a whisper.

“Sorry, gorgeous, I can’t help it. You drive me mad, in the best way possible.”

You pulled him in for a kiss, this one deeper and more passionate than the last. You guys were perfectly in sync, merging together as one.

“I’m so in love with you.” You breathed into him lips.

“Let’s end the live.” He whispers, suggestively.

You let out a loud laugh, going to the phone, “Okay guys, we’re gonna call it a night. Gotta finish dinner. See you later!”

Chris threw up a peace sign with duck lips, bidding the fans goodbye.

You turned to him with a cheeky grin, “Maybe after dinner, you can show me how mad I drive you.”

“Don’t tempt me, baby.” He smirks.

You both laugh, going back to the cooking, happy to be with one another.

—

a /n : ok this was so shit, lowk feel like i rushed the ending.. still not proofread lolol. but like imagine chris dancing w you while y’all cook dinner and shit 😭 baby me now. send in requests pls pls

#the sturniolos #sturniolos #sturniolo triplets #fluff #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #imagine #fanfic #request #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x you

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seospicybin · 8 months

Text

THAT SONG.

PART I

Han x reader. (s,f,a)

A chapter of On Tour.

Synopsis: Han forms a rock band with a help from you, his muse who is so cynical of love. (17,4k words)

Author's note: This is for my On Tour enthusiasts. Hope you like it x

Click here for That Song playlist.

It starts to annoy him how the vocalist keep messing up the chords. Instead of focus on playing his guitar and sing the lyrics right, he's busy making eyes with the girls standing in the front.

Han recognized one of them is you, he knows you because he shares a class with you and your writing recently won the university literary contest. But why would a beautiful and smart girl like you making the eyes with such a lousy, ego bigger than his actual skill guy?

Sure, the vocalist has the looks but he wouldn't look that good if he's playing the music himself. He missed the chords and been singing off key on the last two songs, no one noticed but Han.

Han doesn't even know why he agreed to help to fill the bass tonight but at least he'll get free beers tonight as an exchange. He's ordering his second bottle even though his first one is halfway finished. He turns to the side and finds you making your way toward him.

Han knows that it's good to be true if you're coming for him but he turns to the other side finding the incompetent vocalist gesturing you to come up to him. It's so rare for him to intervene with someone's business but Han really needs to stop you from making the wrong choices.

Next thing he knows, he outstretched his hand to stop you from going to the lousy guy, "Wait a minute!"

Your forehead wrinkles in confusion and he completely understands why.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he says with a thin smile and quick comes up with an explanation, "it's obvious that he likes to sleep with a lot of girls and you're probably going to wake up with a terrible rash."

You tilt your head and thinly smile at him, "Thanks for the tip."

Han quietly let out a breath of relief, "well, you're a nice girl. You don't want to be with that kind of guy."

You purse your lips then takes a sip, "that's where you're wrong. I'm not a nice girl."

You take a another sip of beer before talking again, "and you're cockblocking your friend right now," you tell him, pointing to the talentless vocalist at the end of the bar counter.

"Friend?" Han asks, offended that you think he's friends with that rockstar wannabe.

"He's not my friend. He's a dick actually and I'm just filling for my friend," he shortly explains and now that he gets rid of Bon Jovi look alike, he can smile again.

You snicker and put your bottled beer down, "You're cute," you tell him.

That gets him flustered, no girl ever told him cute before.

"But you reek of romance and good intentions," you continue.

That gets him baffled because isn't that what girls are looking for?

"As opposed to what..." he leers over to the lousy vocalist.

"He's handsome and emotionally unavailable," you fill his blanks and start walking away from him.

Han can't believe he's lost to the lousy vocalist. As his final effort, he grabs you by your elbow to stop you from going.

"Look, I'm not looking for a nice guy. I don't do boyfriends, I don't date," you bluntly tell him.

"All I hear is don't, don't and... don't," he says in a baffling tone.

"Don't waste my time," you sharply add.

Han is aware that he's overstepping and slowly lets go of you, you're an adult anyway, you can do whatever you want and that includes doing things he doesn't want you to do.

"See you in class then," he says as he returns to his beer.

You turn around on your feet, "we share a class?"

"Creative writing," he replies without looking at you.

"What's your name again?" You ask, even though you haven't asked before.

He looks at you and answers, "Han."

You take that information with a nod then clink your bottle with him, "see you in class, Han!"

Then off you go, doing the things he doesn't want you to do and making it clear to him that a guy like him doesn't stand a chance with a girl like you. - It's inevitable seeing you in campus, especially in the class you share together.

Since you knew his name, you'd wave your hand at the sight of him but it's probably some sort of joke to you to remind him how he flirted with you that night and you rejected him right away.

Han is relentless to change your mind because it annoys him so much that you would rather flirt with someone who doesn't even have an ounce of your worth.

A few weeks later at the same bar, he approaches you after he sees you send a guy away from disagreeing with you on an argument.

"Guess you scare him off," he comments as he takes the seat of the expelled guy.

You scoff in disbelief at him then sips your beer.

"Do you want to get out of here?" He offers, shamelessly taking another shot with you.

You laugh and wipe your upper lip with your thumb, "Didn't I made it pretty clear that I have no interests on going out with you?"

Han calmly looks at you and smiles, "you and I are going to be friends," he casually remarks.

"But I don't want to be friends with you," you shortly reply, not hesitating to reject him again.

Well, Han can only take two rejection in a span of two months, he'll try again a few weeks... or maybe this is a sign for him to give up and raise the white flag. He brings his beer with him and finds somewhere else where he can quietly drinks his beer. He stops caring about your presence the more intoxicated he gets.

To his short luck, Han gets lightheaded and since he's coming to the bar alone with no friend who can assist him home, he stops drinking. He exits the bar and realizes how late it is from how crowded that he has to go through sea of people to find the door.

To sober up a little, he stands outside with the brick wall supporting him, his head is clouded with smoke coming from a group of people smoking next to him. He pulls out his phone to order a taxi when he hears your voice. His head snaps to the door of bar and sees you drunkenly walking to the side of the road, hailing your hand for a taxi.

He's about to help you getting one when a man gets to you first, holding you from behind and opens the taxi door for you.

"I want to go home," you slur your words at him.

He forces you to get inside the taxi, "we're going home, baby."

You refuse to get in and jump out of the taxi, "not with you," you tell him.

"My apartment is close so you're coming with me," he insists, pushing you back into the backseat of the taxi.

You push him away when he's about to get in after you, "No, I don't want to go home with you!"

It starts to cause a scene outside the bar and it doesn't take a genius to know that this guy is going to take advantage of you.

Han shoves his phone into the back pocket of his jeans and comes to take you away from him.

"She said she doesn't want to go with you," Han tells him right at his face, holding you steady with his hands on your shoulders.

"Who the fuck are you?" The man curses at him.

"I'm her friend!" He shortly replies despite he knows he got rejected to be your friend a few hours ago.

The man grabs you back from him and forces you to enter the taxi, "stay the fuck out of my business!"

Han shoves him back and he pulls you along with him as he's staggering to the back, sending you stumbling down the pavement.

"Ouch!" You wince in pain.

Han hurriedly helps you getting up and helps you get into the taxi.

"Stay away from you, you fucking prick!" Han warns him before getting into the taxi.

You whine in pain next to him, holding your scraped knee with your hand and lolling your head to the side, eventually resting your head on his shoulder.

"Where do you live?" Han asks, feeling bad if he has to grope you around to find for your ID or phone.

"I don't want to go home," you mumble to him.

You nuzzle your head into his neck and mumble again, "let come home with you."

Han has no other option but to take you to his messy apartment. Thankfully, you're too intoxicated to notice the piling dirty laundry or the pizza box he hasn't thrown out since last night. You run to the bathroom the second he unlocked the door and he uses the opportunity to tidy up his place, or more like, hiding the mess out of the plain sight.

He quickly grabs a clean towel from the dryer then knock on the bathroom door to give it to you. He hears the flushing sound then you open the door not long after.

"A clean towel," he offers.

You take it from him through the crack of the door and follow him outside.

"Can I borrow your clothes?" You suddenly ask.

It's like you speak a different language that he takes a moment for him to process such simple words, "my clothes?"

You meekly show him your clothes damp with drops of water, "I can't sleep in this."

"Clothes," he says with a blank expression and it takes him another moment to finally get to his closet, finding any proper clothes for you to wear.

He picks the most decent piece of clothing he has and he remembers his parents gifted him a pajama set, it's the perfect time to put it to use.

"Here," he accidentally startles you as you scan his records collection.

You take the folded clothes from him and not hesitate to take your clothes off on the spot. Han immediately turns his back at you to give you privacy even though he can clearly see you changing clothes from the reflection of the TV screen.

"Can I have a glass of water?" You ask.

"Sure," he dashes to the kitchenette and pours a glass of water which reminds him to grab the first-aid kit from the drawer.

"Thank you," you mutter as you take the glass of water from him.

"Can you please sit down?" He kindly asks.

The options are the bed or the worn-out couch filled with his books. You walk over to the bed and sits at the end of it. He squats down on the floor and looks up at you, "Do you mind if I take a look at your knee?"

You shake your head while holding the glass of water with both hands on your lap. He rolls up the obviously a size too big pajama pants and takes a closer look at your scraped knee. It doesn't look bad once he cleaned.

It's probably the alcohol that hasn't fully left your systems yet that makes you numb to the stings of alcohol pads make contact with your wounded knee. Next, Han dabs antibiotic ointment on the wound with a cotton bud and apply a bandage to finish.

"Thank you," you mutter again.

Wow! It's the first time he heard so many thank you in one night and it's coming from the person he didn't expect to hear it from.

"You can rest now," he says, gesturing you to sleep on the bed.

"And where are you going to sleep?" You ask.

"I can sleep..." his eyes drift to the messy couch and silently sigh, "I can sleep anywhere."

"Please, share the bed with me," you plead with eyes that shine for him as he stands towering you.

"Okay," he agrees but he promised himself to leave the bed once you're asleep.

The night is getting late and he can't lie that he needs to lie down after an eventful night. He is late to claim his side of the bed as you already lie there, getting yourself under the cover.

"What are you listening to?" You ask, looking at the record player on the bedside table.

Han puts it there because he likes to lay on the bed and stares at the ceiling while listening to music. Unfortunately, he happens to forget what record he was playing the last time. He peers over to your side of the bed, one glance at the record and he knows what it is.

"Uhm... Sonic Youth," he answers.

You turn the record player on and slowly put the needle on it, music starts to fill the space with riffs of one of his favorite songs.

"Spinning dreams with angel wings. Torn blue jeans and a foolish grin," Kim Gordon opens the song with her sleepy, crooning voice.

You get comfortable on the bed and turn to the side, seeing him still standing at the side of the bed.

"Come, lay down with me," you say, patting the space next to you.

It's so stupid of him that he forgot to take off his jacket, he gets ride of it before climbing onto the bed and awkwardly slouches down the bed.

He knows you're looking at him as Kim Gordon repeatedly singing, "Star power, star power, star power..."

You take a deep breathe and put a hand under your head, "Maybe I really should stop dating handsome, emotionally unavailable men," you draw conclusions out of nowhere.

Han only nods in agreement even though he can't focus knowing that he's under the same cover with you.

"Maybe we should go on a date," you come with another shocking statement.

This time, he doesn't nod even though he wanted to.

You softly sigh again and gets up from the bed to lean close to his side, "I think you'll be good to me."

He dares himself to look at you and catches you softly smiling at him. Your eyes locked in a gaze that feels more intimate than a kiss.

You slightly tilt your head to the side then press a gentle kiss on his cheek, "Goodnight!"

You settle back on the bed and close your eyes with a smile that slowly fades from your face as you slowly drift to sleep.

Han reaches for his heating cheek and touches the searing kiss you left on it, foolishly holding the back of his hand to it like it would help him reeling from the kiss. However, he can replay the moment in his head and close his eyes to make it vivid.

The song that is still playing becomes distant but he can faintly hears Kim Gordon softly sings, "Close my eyes and think of you. Everything turns black to blue." - It's like someone has just pulled him out of the water, Han wakes up from his sleep gasping for air. He expects to see it's still night and you're still on the bed sleeping next to him. Panic, he gets up at once and looks around his studio apartment with sunlight filling and brightens the place.

"Morning," you greet from the couch with a bowl on one hand.

The mess of your hair looking like a halo on the top of your head and you warmly smile as your eyes locked in a gaze with him, emitting the same warmth of the morning sun at him.

"I hope you don't mind I'm eating your cereal," you say.

Disoriented, he scratches the back of his head and unsure what to do first because he's usually will fall back to sleep, especially when he has no morning class like today.

"I–I'll just..." he barely finishes his sentence and breaks into a run to the bathroom.

Last night, he made a plan to impress you. He planned on getting up early so he can buy some nice breakfast to eat together with you. He plans on having some fresh baked goods and hot coffee with you, not his cereal and milk from his empty fridge.

"Oh, why did I fall asleep?" He asks himself and reaches for his toothbrush to, at least, make himself look presentable in front of you.

He changes into a clean t-shirt he picked up from the washing machine and walks to the kitchenette, "Coffee?" He feels stupid for asking when he can clearly you have put the coffee pot on.

"Yes, please?" You sweetly answer to him.

He fills two mugs with steaming hot coffee and brings them to the couch, he wince seeing the cluttering mess on his table that he has to put some stuff to the side to make room for the mugs of coffee.

You're busy chewing on your cereal to notice it and he peers over to see you're reading his notebook.

"Oh—" he stops himself from snatching it away from you.

You notice that he's looking at it and quickly flip shut, then put it one the top of stack, "I'm sorry but it's laying around on the table so... I didn't mean to read your journal," you apologize.

He bites his lower lip, not expecting you to read his journal filled with his writings in there. It's worse than letting you walk around his messy apartment but he can't blame you when he should have kept it somewhere safe.

"I'm sorry," you apologize again.

"It's okay," he says with a smile to convince you that it's okay for you to read the song lyrics he wrote about personal things.

"How come you never submitted your works for the literary contest?"

Han lifts his mug and watches the curls of steam from his coffee, "I don't I can compete with you."

You put your legs up and hug them in front of you, "but your writing is beautiful."

"They're not... they're lyrics," he says.

"Oh?" You lowly gasp, "so you write songs?"

"Kind of," he answers and carefully sips his coffee.

"Have you performed any of these songs?"

Han shakes his head to strongly deny, "I like writing them but not performing them."

"Why not?"

"Because I..." his word trails off once he realizes that you're getting too personal with him but it's too late to stop now.

"I don't think they're good," he concludes.

You take your mug of coffee and hold it with both hands, "Well, I never thought any of my writings are good," you share.

"But they are good," Han points out the obvious since your writings always won the literary contest for two years in a row.

"So you read them," you say with a satisfied smile.

Again, he's too late to back out now, "who doesn't?"

You take a small sip of your coffee then ask, "What do you think?"

His mug stops midair as he's about to sip his coffee, "they're good, great..."

The sound of the phone ringing from somewhere across the room interrupts the talk, after a few seconds you recognize that it's yours and it's ringing inside your purse.

"I'm sorry," you excuse yourself to get it.

Han silently drinks his coffee and catches glimpes of your conversation on the phone, it's safe to say that you need to go after hanging up the call.

"Sorry, but I have to go," you say just as he expected.

Han tidies up the place as much as he can while you're changing your clothes in the bathroom, your phone rings again as he puts records piling on his bedside table back to the shelf. He didn't mean to look but your phone is right there, lying on the bed and he can see the caller.

Alex, it's a very masculine sounded name. He doesn't want to assume anything and stops thinking about it as he hears the bathroom door swings open.

"Thank you for letting me crashing in your place," you return the clothes your borrowed from him.

"No problem at all," he sheepishly says.

You check your phone and shove it inside your purse after, "Thank you for this as well," you show him your bandaged knee at him.

"It's nothing really," he says.

It's been a long time that Han has someone over his place, especially of the opposite sex. He's been out of the dating pool for much longer than that, he doesn't know the code anymore, what he should do next?

He decides to keep himself busy as you collect your things from around the room. Han is putting the dirty dishes on the sink when you speak to him from the foyer.

"I'm free this Friday."

He turns around to see you standing with one hand against the wall and the other is strapping your shoes in place, "huh?"

"I'm free this Friday," you repeated.

He's not deaf but what he doesn't get is the meaning of those words. Does it mean you want him to take you on a date? Or you set the date for both of you? Or you want to casually hang out with him? Or you need his help again at the bar?

In other words, he's stupid when it comes to social cues.

"You want me to... uh—"

"Friday at eight?" You say.

Oh, okay, that means you want to go on a date. He stifles a nod, "sure, yeah."

"Okay," you smile seeing him being awkward.

Han may have wanted to take you on a date but you're so smart, so composed, so confident, you're everything he's not and it's impossible for him not to feel the slightest bit intimidated. He doesn't know how to impress you, he only has himself and it's not enough.

"Can you stay sober until then?" He blurts out.

You crack a crisp laugh that echoes in his studio apartment, "I'll try," you vaguely answer.

The initial thought is he wants you to stay away from drinking except when he's there with you but you took it that he was being playful with you. Well, either way, he's glad that he can make you laugh.

"I'll see you again," you say with a bright smile.

"See you again," He says back.

And Han hangs on to those words, to the promise that he can see your smile again.

It's eight minutes past 8 pm on Friday night.

It's past the appointed time for the date but there no sight of you yet. A few minutes shouldn't be considered late, you must be on the way here and things happen, you may forget something after getting out of the door or traffic or... there's just so many reasons why you—

Han feels a tap on his shoulder which makes him turns on his feet.

"Hey, have you been waiting long?"

He is not ready to see you, not when he's almost think that you'll ditch both him and the date. But here you are, looking at him with a smile that gradually fades into a confused one.

"Are you okay?"

He snaps himself out of it and clears his throat, "No, I'm just—" he forgot the question you asked him and try again, "I mean I'm okay."

You look up at the sign of the place he takes you for the date, "I've never been here," you comment.

Doesn't know what to do with his hands, he shoves them into the pockets of his jacket.

"Me too," he casually says.

"Huh?" You blink your eyes at him, confounded.

Consider both of you lucky that there's still one more table available, it's Friday night so it's no surprise that it's crowded with people. Upbeat music is playing in the big hall filled with rows of ping-pong tables mixed with the sounds of the ping-pong balls hits either the players' paddle or the tables.

You shake the jacket off your shoulder once you get to the assigned table, "I don't know how to play table tennis," you admit right away to prepare him that an accident or two is imminent.

"Me too," he innocently answers from the end of the table as he takes a paddle.

That explains why he never been here but still, why would he takes you here if he can't play?

"You're not serious, right?" You place your jacket on the empty bench on the side of the table.

"I'm serious," he says as he takes his jacket off.

You burst into laughter but he's just so clueless on why you're laughing.

"Most men would use this chance to show off that they're good at something but you..." you shrug and choose a paddle to use.

Han takes a ball from a box and bounces it on the table, "Well... I am not most men," he coyly says.

Not going to lie, that's so attractive of him, especially with strands of his curly hair falling over his face.

"Okay," you nod in acknowledgment.

You take your position on your side of the table, warming up your hands by opening and closing your hands before wrapping your hand around the handle of the paddle.

"Your serve," you give him the permission to start the game.

Han also takes his stance and throws the ball straight upward, he supposedly hits the ball when it's still hung in the air with the paddle but instead of that, his paddle flung across the table and caught by the net.

There's a dead air hanging between you and him as you both stare at his paddle stranded in the middle of the table. You look away to not embarrassed him more and see everyone is having a bottle of beer on their table.

You turn to look at him and ask, "beer?"

"Yep!" He shortly replies.

After two bottles of beers drained and a lot more failed attempts at serving the balls, you get the hang of it even though it's not to the level of what a proper ping-pong should be played.

"Another round?" You ask.

He doesn't wait but calls to order more drinks, "More beers, please!"

At the second round, your neck is moist with sweat and you can feel beads of sweat forming on your back, you plop down on the bench in exhaustion. Han gulps his bottle of water next to you, "another round?"

"I'm on a roll, sure!" You eagerly accept the offer.

"Loser have to pay for dinner?" He dares you with a lopsided grin.

It's a fair game since you're both terrible at it, you have nothing to lose except for your self-esteem. You offer your hand for a handshake at him, "deal!'

He takes your hand and firmly shakes it, "deal!"

The game is getting intense, you have your hair tied in a messy ponytail while Han has the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbow. Under the fluorescent lights you can see the evident veins coiling his arms, got you distracted more than once.

It's a tie, there's only one point needed to determine the winner. It's his serve so you prepare yourself to receive it even though your hand starts shaking.

"Don't go crying when you're lost," he teases you, bouncing the ball against the table with his hand.

"No problem. I look prettier when I cry," you shot back at him with a nonchalant shrug and a smile.

Han catches you off guard and shot a topspin serve. Fortunately, you reflex is still good despite your body is close to giving up, you shoot the ball back to him as hard as you can. He's heading to the right side to get it but too late to catch the ball right on time, it goes past him, bouncing to the wall on the back.

"Yes!" You jump on your feet to celebrate.

While Han just stands there and gives you an applause with a defeated look on his face.

"I WANT BURGERS!" You enthusiastically shout at him loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Okay, okay," he quickly responds and gestures you to calm down.

Since he's the one paying for dinner, you feel bad to order a lot of food so you take him for coffee and dessert after as a way to pay back for dinner, also because you're still hungry.

He lifts his cup of iced americano to make a toast, "To celebrate that we're no longer beginners on table tennis!"

Your hands are shaking when you lift your cup of cappuccino and he notices too, sending you both into laughters. You use both hands to lift it and carefully clink your drinks together to not slosh the content, "that was a good game," you comment.

"It was!" He agrees and drinks his coffee with a straw.

You share two slices of cakes together, he chose a cheesecake while yours is tiramisu, digging at it with forks and eating it between talks.

"Are you working on a writing at the moment?" He asks.

You wash down the spoonful of cake with coffee before answering,

"Kind of..." you vaguely answer.

"Is it for the upcoming literary contest?" He asks.

"I'm working on a lot of things at once," you share with a dry laugh.

Han nods and shoves a piece of cake into his small mouth. His cheeks are round and full when he's eating, you find them really adorable.

He catches you watching him eat and you hurriedly look away, "so..."

You remember the unanswered question on the last conversation you had with him at his place, you've been wondering what his true answer is.

"What do you think of my writings?"

"They're great. I like your choice of metaphors and yeah, they're great," he answers with mouth stuffed with food.

You sense that there's more than just great. You slightly tilt your head to the side and look at him, "But...?"

He stops chewing as you ask him that like he got caught lying. Maybe he is lying but with a good intention.

"You can be honest with me," you assure him while cutting a small piece of the cheesecake.

He sips his coffee to empty his mouth from food and properly answers to you, "There's nothing wrong with your writings," he begins.

He sits up straighter and looks at you, "it's just that... I get this impression that you're a bit... cynical?"

You lowly laugh and say, "wrong!"

You chew on the cake and stack your hands together on the table, "Not a little. I am cynical," you correct him.

Han licks his lips and presses them together into a thin line, perhaps feeling bad for analyzing your personality through your writings.

That only proves that he's not only reading for the sake of entertainment but he truly reads things between the lines. In that moment, you feel so bare and vulnerable in front of him.

"I witnessed two people falling out of love, breaking and tear each other apart until there's nothing left of them," you candidly share and put your hand around the coffee cup to absorb the warmth.

"Why would I want the same? I've seen enough for like... the last fifteen years of my existence so no, thank you, not interested," You conclude with a sad smile.

Han meekly nods as he sips the last of his coffee in silence. It's unclear why you decide to share personal things with him but deep down you know it's because he's not going to laugh at your pain.

With no sight of stars and the moon in the night sky, it only means that there are big dark clouds and it's going to rain soon. Han insists on walking you to your apartment even though he has to walk back to the bus stop to go home.

Notice that you're only a block away, you don't want this night to end with the tragic story you shared about your parent's divorce.

"I had a fun date," you comment.

Han smiles and he has the kind of smile that shines from the inside, there's nothing fake about it.

"It was a fun date," he says.

"I never had a date this nice before," you add to show him that you're not being phony.

"Me too," he responds.

He said those two words three times so far and you begin to wonder if you're actually suck at dates. You always skip this part and go straight to the sexual stuff, maybe that's why.

Once you both arrive at the entrance of your apartment building, you turn around and without thinking you ask, "Want to go upstairs?"

With another man, you wouldn't fuss much whether they want to come with you or not but with him, you have this force inside you to not screw this up. You look at him and can't tell if he's nervous, or surprised, or horrified. He's just standing with his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets even though the weather is pleasant.

"We don't have to do anything," you quickly mutter and immediately regret it because what if he wants to do something?

As always, honesty is the best policy. Well, that depends on how embarrassing the truth is. This one is still bearable, so you say, "I still want to talk to you."

The streetlight shines down on him, filling his brown eyes with dark glints and enthralling you to stare.

He nods and follows you inside. You feel awkward leading him to your floor, climbing the flight of stairs in silence but the echoes of your footsteps on the steps.

"Here I am," you stop in front of the door to your unit.

You rummage inside your purse for your key and push the door once you unlock it. The second you hear the song playing inside, you hurriedly close it again.

"What?" He asks you in a mix of panic and curiosity.

"Alex is listening to Sza," you answer.

"Alex?"

You forget that he doesn't know the context, you lock the door again and stand blocking him as if he would dare to barge inside.

"Alex is my roommate and she puts on Sza when she's having a guy over as some sort of code," you concisely explain.

"Ah..." he sighs in relief.

Is he relieved because he doesn't have to come inside or relieved because he doesn't want to talk to you? Is he— you never let your negative thoughts win so you find the alternative.

"How about your place?" You ask with a sly smile.

He considers it for a moment then says, "We should run then."

"Run? Why?"

"The last bus is in fifteen minutes," he simply answers.

"Oh?"

The two of you are drenched from running from the bus stop to his apartment in the rain, he lets you use the bathroom first to change while he prepares clothes you can borrow from him.

Han puts it on the end of the bed and you can comfortably change as he takes his turn to use the bathroom. You seem to have found comfort in his apartment which is a lot tidier after he realizes that someone could visit him uninvited.

Candidly speaking, the only person he thinks would come visit him is you.

You pull out a record from the shelf and put it on the record player, the music drowning out the sound of raindrops pattering against the window glass. As if it's your own bed, you sit with your back resting against the headboard, covering your legs with the duvet.

"Why are you standing there?" You ask him.

He towels dry his hair quickly before doing what you ordered him, sitting next to you on the bed.

"It's not like we haven't shared a bed before," you add and get comfortable by putting a pillow behind your back.

Whether it's the proximity or because he has run through the rain that makes him feel snug and warm all of a sudden, the raindrops pattering against the window supports this comforting atmosphere.

"How long have you been collecting?" You gesture to his shelf full of records.

It must be a headache to find a certain record because he doesn't organize them but you refrain from telling him.

"Some are my father's, I brought them with me when I moved out of the house and I started collecting two years ago," his fingers are playing with the lint on his sweatpants as he's speaking.

"You own some rare ones?" You ask in a curiosity.

"I have The Beatles White Album with printing number 0000523," he answers with a proud smile.

"Wow!" You exclaim in awe, you're familiar with the knowledge that the value of the album can go up significantly if it has a low printing number and he owns one.

"Just know that if I lost it, I'd know that you did it," he jokes.

"Dang! I was planning the whole robbery thing in my head," you joke back.

The rain has turned into drizzle and it gets quiet in the room, but the kind that makes him not feel pressured to fill it, a comfortable kind.

"What's your favorite song?" You ask out of the blue.

He hisses because it's like you're asking who is his favorite child. Not that he has any but he knows the dilemma.

"Don't think!" You tell him.

"Just one that pops on the top of your head," you offer an easy way to pick one.

There's this one song that automatically plays inside his head when he looks at you. It's one that he's unconsciously humming when he's in the shower, tying his shoes, or pouring himself a cup of coffee in the morning.

Not sure if you can catch the reference, he calmly answers, "Lovely Day by Bill Withers."

You nod in acknowledgment and smile, "That's a nice one!"

He turns to look at you, "and you?"

"Off You by The Breeders," you shortly reply as if you have waited a long time for this question.

Except that Han never heard of the song or the band. He feels bad for not knowing and you catch on it right away.

"You never heard of it?"

Han sheepishly shakes his head.

"You're lucky that I still have my Spotify premium," you playfully say and pick up your phone to play the song for him.

You set the volume to the highest setting then put your phone between you and him on the bed, listening to the intro of the song of low, minimal bass and guitar. The song somehow fits the moment, the singer sings like she's telling a story or a poem.

"I am the autumn in the scarlet. I am the make-up on your eyes."

That's such interesting lyrics and Han intently keeps listening to know why this is your favorite song. One thing he knows is this is one of the songs he can listen to while lying and staring at the ceiling.

"I've never seen a starlet or a riot or the violence of you."

He hears you sigh next to him and he looks to the side to see that you're crying, he knows it for sure as the tears on your cheeks reflect the lights at him. He leans and checks to see if you're okay, he puts your hair away and then tucks it behind your ear.

"Are you okay?"

You look at him with your eyes glassy and filled with sadness, "I don't want to get hurt," you croak

It must be scary for you to open up to someone when you've seen the worst thing love can do to a person. He understands the fear well because he has the same heart that lies and beats inside his chest.

It's vulnerable yeah but we are never fully broken to the point that we're irreparable.

However, Han doesn't intend to break it, he wants to embrace it, nurture it, and protect it with all of his might.

He cups your jaw with his thumb and gently wipes your wet cheek, "I'm not going to hurt you," he says with a soft smile.

More tears roll down your cheeks as you close your eyes, it's a heartbreaking sight to see.

To prove his words, he holds your face and leans in to kiss you, pouring all of his heart's content that strangely only expands in size the longer he kisses you.

Han lets go of the kiss yet holds a tender gaze with you, "I'm not going to hurt you," he reassures.

You hold the hand holding your face and softly smile at him, a smile that tells him that you've decided to trust his words.

For that, Han slowly sails into your heart and strands himself on the island inside your chest.

You rest your head on his shoulder as he puts his arm around your shoulder, welcoming you into his warm embrace. Both of you stay like that while listening to the rest of the song which encased you both in a bittersweet moment.

"I land to sail... Island sail. Yeah, we're movin'... Yeah, we're movin'..."

This is what he means when he says Lovely Day automatically plays in the back of his head when he looks at you.

Han has been watching you sleep for a few minutes now, leaning against the desk with arms crossed in his chest and he can vividly hear Bill Withers singing inside his head.

"Just one look at you and I know it's gonna be a lovely day, lovely day, lovely day, lovely day, lovely day."

You're pretty when you cry but even prettier when you sleep with a hand under your head, so still and so quiet, looking like an angel lost in her dream.

"Lovely day, lovely day, lovely day, lovely day," the song is playing in his head on a loop.

The sun is rising and he doesn't want you to wake up yet for he wants to stare at your face longer. The sight of the baked goods he bought from the bakery across the street is disagreeing with him, it was still hot when he bought it and it's more likely to get cold if you don't wake up soon.

Then again, how can he disrupt an angel who's peacefully sleeping and away from the harm of the world?

Well, the sound of your phone ringing can.

A crease forms between your eyebrows as you force yourself awake from slumber. The song playing in his head abruptly stops and it reminds him to stop watching you. Han gets away from the bed and pretends to be busy in the kitchenette. In his peripheral, he can see your hand groping around the bedside table for your phone and check it.

"Morning!" You sleepily greet from the bed.

He plays it cool and turns to see you, "Morning!" He says back.

"Coffee?" He asks with a clean mug in his hand.

"Yes, please?" You say with a delicate smile that soothes him like a morning dew.

"Can I stay on the bed?" You ask with a shy laugh.

"Yeah, sure," he replies, looking at you wrapped in a blanket.

Han brings your mug of coffee first and makes another trip to bring his and the bag of bakery on the other hand.

"What do we have?" You're eyeing the bag, not daring to look into it yourself.

"Breakfast," he casually says and opens it for you, the buttery smell of freshly baked goods wafting around the room.

You start with a sip of coffee then dig inside the paper bag to grab a piece, tearing at it and eating it piece by piece.

You get interrupted by your phone dings with a new message.

"Your roommate?" He wildly guesses.

"Yeah, she wants me to come home quick," you answer, "she needs the intervention."

"Huh?"

"That means she doesn't like the guy she's having over in our place and wants me to intervene, you know, an excuse to get him out of the house," you explain then lick the powdered sugar on your finger.

"I see," he says even though he wants you to stay a little longer.

Just like you heard his thought, you quickly add, "Not that I don't want to stay. She did it for me like two months ago so I kind of owe her one."

He sips his coffee and assures you, "It's alright."

You rummage inside the paper bag to get another piece and without looking at him, you ask, "I have something to ask you."

He suddenly turns rigid at the men of something to ask because it sounds intriguing, scary, and exciting at the same time.

"Yes," he grips the handle of the mug a little too hard.

You bite into the bread with a custard filling and gets on your upper lip. In reflex, he wipes it for you with his thumb and you giggle once you notice the mess around your mouth.

"And the question?" He asks, genuinely curious about what you're about to ask him before the custard gets in the way.

"Oh, yeah, uhm..." you drink your coffee and hold it with both hands on your lap, "Is it too early if I ask you on a second date now?"

That, he didn't expect to hear at all but it makes him feel the same way, intrigued, scared, and excited, it's a mixed feelings.

"No," he honestly answers with a shy smile. He's never been with a girl who's this bold and so upfront like you, he likes it though, it makes things easier for him.

"How about tonight?" You ask with hopeful eyes and even a hopeful smile.

When you asked if it's too early he didn't know it would be this early, the earliest he could think of is next Friday.

"To–tonight?" He stammers.

You tilt your head to the side and hold your mug close to your lips, "No?"

"No," he responds without thinking.

He immediately realizes you might have thought he answered out of pressure, "I would love to!"

A smile rises on your face as you bite into your bread again, "okay," you say.

Han makes the bed and then gets himself another cup of coffee while you're changing in the bathroom. He's already planning on going back to sleep after you leave.

Your phone rings again at the same time you step out of the bathroom, "Alex! Oh, my God!" You groan and accept the call.

"I'm coming!" You briefly speak into the phone then hang up.

You shove your things into your purse and put on your jacket, looking at him to say, "I'll text you about the date."

He nods and puts his coffee mug down to send you off, watching as you bend down to put on your shoes with your hair falling around your face like a waterfall.

You gasp as you stand right in front of him, "See you later?"

"See you later," he repeated, his voice tinted with excitement and intrigue but not scared.

He should have known that you're subtly hinting at a kiss as you look at him with a sweet smile on your face. This is why learning social cues is important, he missed a lot of things because of—

The next thing he knows, your lips are on his lips and your hand is fisting the front of his t-shirt, clutching at it as you brush your soft lips over his. You taste as sweet, as smooth as the custard cream you were eating earlier, he just can't enough.

Bill Withers' voice starts to fill his head again as you pull away from the kiss with a smile on your parted mouth.

"Okay, then," you hurriedly let go of his t-shirt and shyly fix your hair, "bye!"

The song keeps playing even after you leave and close the door behind you, he can hear Bill Withers singing the part where he holds the note for 18 seconds, endlessly playing in the back of his mind.

"Lovely day, lovely day, lovely day, lovely day...."

Han doesn't want to be late so he leaves early but when he gets to the appointed place that is a museum, he sees the sign that says closed. Is he late or come to the wrong place? He checks the text you sent him and he's right, it's the only museum with this name.

He starts pacing and thinking of calling you, that way you don't have to bother coming here.

"You're early!" You say as you come from the other direction.

"I was about to call you," he blurts out.

You sense the panic in his voice and ask, "Why? What's wrong?"

He shows you the closed sign hanging on the glass door of the museum entrance, "it's closed."

Instead of disappointed, you break a laugh and gently grab his elbow, "it's closed because of the event we're going to attend," you explain, then link your arm with his to walk towards the entrance.

Despite the closed sign, the entrance is not locked but security is stopping both of you at the end of the hallway. You pull something out of your purse and show it to them, tickets.

They let you both walk through the scanner and enter the main hall of the museum, they keep the lights low but he can see people gathering around the small stage that is set between two large marble statues with a big painting decorated on the wall on the back.

"What is this?" He asks in pure curiosity.

You take two cups of beer provided for guests and hand one to him, "It's an exclusive music session, only fifty people are invited to this," you keep your voice low to avoid the chat echoing in the vast hall.

"How did you get the tickets?" He asks along with a sip of his beer.

"From a friend of a friend," you vaguely answer.

That's enough details, he's sure that someone like you has contact here and there. He shouldn't be surprised, he sips his beer and takes a spot on the back row of people getting ready to watch with the intro starts playing from the set.

"Is it a band I know?" He asks.

You scrunch your nose at him, "not sure."

The intro is building up and getting louder, the crowd welcoming the band with a wave of applause and patiently waiting as they get ready with their instruments. There are three of them, the vocalist takes center stage with a guitar slung across his chest, the one who greets the crowd is taking the left side with his keyboard and the other one occupies the right side with his drum kit.

It's one band that he never heard before but he likes how experimental their music is, the kind that is groundbreaking and atmospheric. They mix the sounds from their instruments with samplers playing from an electronic kit, the big hall helps echo the music back at him to create this grand sound effortlessly.

With only a small group of people watching and no one pulling their phones out, it's immersive and intimate. You ditch the cup of beer and turn to look at him, putting your hands on each side of his waist, singing the lyrics the band is playing.

"I just want to love you in my own language," you mouth every word of the lyrics to him.

With a smile, you lean in to gently kiss him in the dark of the room. You pull away from the kiss and put your hands around his neck, slow dancing to the song like two lovers left alive.

The taxi ride home reminds him of that night except that you're sober and you're sitting close next to him, holding his hand

"What do you think of our second date?"

He looks up from watching his hand clasped with yours on his thigh, "it was nice."

You nod, "Nice is good!"

It was more than nice that he can't describe it with words, Han feels the need to assure you that, "It's the best date I've ever had!"

A smile grows on your beautiful face like a blossoming flower, "our first date is still the best but this comes close to that," you half agreed with him.

Han is getting used to seeing you on his bed and wearing his clothes, smiling as you watch him getting onto the bed to sit next to you.

"Don't you want to play your songs like that too?" You ask out of the blue.

He wanted to but he's not confident if he is that good and there's another thing too. He shakes his head and shyly laughs at the brief images of him performing his songs.

"Why not?" You ask.

"I'm not that good," he shortly answers.

You scrunch your nose in disagreement and he likes it whenever you do that, "I don't believe that."

He hates to disappoint you but that's just the truth, the songs he wrote, he's not planning on letting them out to the world for everyone to hear.

You stack your legs to one side, facing him, "Can I ask you something?"

Another question, how thrilling! He nods in excitement at what you're curious about.

"Is the second date too early for us to have sex?"

Han chokes on his saliva and stifles a cough. A part of him wants to take things slow with you but another part of him fancies you so much he can't say no to you. He should choose to be wise and choose the former, right?

"Uh... I think we should wait until the third date," he says and his mouth feels bitter saying it.

"Ah, okay," you repeatedly nod.

A moment passes in silence then you turn to look at him, "I mean, we can start by sleeping naked together," you suggest an idea.

He swallows air at the mention of 'naked' and 'together', it seems impossible to him to do that without involving anything sexual in between.

"Or we'll wait for the third date, that's fine," you quickly add with an awkward laugh.

Things are moving so fast that Han is still having a hard time processing everything that happened in the last seven days. But why would he stop when things are going well between you and him?

You wanted this and he wanted this too, as long as you both are going in the same direction, why hit the brake and risk everything going off track?

"We can sleep naked together," he says with a plain tone.

"Yeah?"

He nods and turns to sit on the edge of the bed, volunteering to be the first to take his clothes off. The bed shifts and he guesses you decide to start taking your clothes off too.

Han hurriedly gets under the duvet and watches you unclasping your bra. He stops looking as you get up to remove your underwear. You crawl back onto the bed and get under the cover, slowly settling yourself next to him, putting your hand on his bare chest.

"You're shivering," you lowly speak with your face only inches away from him, then proceed to snuggle next to him.

He stares at the ceiling because he knows, if he looks at you, he wants to kiss you and a kiss will unlock the raging desire inside him. He can feel your nipples graze his side as your body overlaps half of his body, your leg drapes around his with your foot softly rubbing his shin.

You lean into his side and place a long kiss on his neck, your hand slides down his front, stopping right on his abdomen.

"How about now, mmh?" You softly whisper.

Using your fingers, you lightly touch his abdomen making lazy circles on the skin.

"I have condoms in my purse if that's your concern," you tell him.

Han is getting weak with every kiss you place on his neck and the skin behind his ear. He turns his head to the side and is about to tell you what his concerns are but you capture his lips in a rapturous kiss.

You gently lick his lips before pulling away, "I want to do this with you," you assure him.

He doesn't know how to tell you that it's not you, it's him and his low self-esteem. He kisses you again to brace himself to speak his worry with you.

"I'm bad at it," he says.

That gets you quiet for a moment, "says who?"

He's unsure of it too but mostly it's the anxiety talking, "Me?"

You lowly chuckle and put more of your body on top of him, "How do I know you're bad if I haven't tried?"

That's what confuses him too. It's not like he has a rating written on his head for his sex skill, "I—"

You cut him off with a kiss and shut him up for good as you keep kissing him, your hand sliding lower until you meet his hardening member.

You stimulate him with gentle strokes, lightly rubbing his tip with your thumb while lowly moaning against his lips. You pull away from the kiss to say, "You can touch me."

Hesitate for a while, Han rests his hand on the arch of your back, his fingers trailing down your spine as you continue kissing him. You know how to use your lips, your tongue, your teeth, he can lay there and let you kiss him day and night. He wraps his arms around you to fully feel you against his body, skin to skin.

"How are you so soft?" He doesn't mean to say it out loud but you smile hearing his words.

You give him a long peck on the lips before excusing yourself to get the condom from your purse. His eyes follow you as you climb onto the bed.

Sitting next to his body with all of your hair draped on one shoulder, you rip open the foil packet and carefully, roll the rubber down his length. You crawl over his body and slowly put your body on top of him, continuing the fiery kisses that kindled the fire inside him.

This time, Han lets his hands freely roam your body, trailing the curve of your body, and feels your flesh molds into the palm of his hands.

You place a long peck on his lips before getting up, kneeling with your body between your bodies. You put your hand on his chest and say, "Just lay back, I'll do all the work."

He swallows air and with his own eyes, he sees you taking a seat on his thighs and wrapping your hand around his swollen cock. You rub it against your wetness which he can see and feel, it takes everything in him to not let his brain shut down.

"Oh," you moan with your eyes closed as you keep rubbing his shaft between your folds.

You roll your head around while letting out a long moan and then look at him in the eyes with a sly smile on your face. Still holding it in your hand, you position yourself and align his cock with your entrance, then you slowly lower yourself down his length.

"Oh," you moan again.

It's the sight of his cock disappearing into you that gets his jaws hanging open, you moan some more as you take all of him and seated on his thighs again. A low laugh spills out of your parted mouth as you tilt your head back, then say, "Oh, my— oh, I need a moment!"

Han feels like he's having an out-of-body experience, he's getting turned on more from looking at you doing things to him than the feeling of being inside you. He believes it's because his brain has a hard time catching up, he can only look at you with eyes wide open.

"How do I feel?" you lowly ask with a peck on his open mouth, then kiss his neck next, "Do I feel good, mmh?"

His brain is so close to short-circuiting that he can't form a verbal answer, he stifles a nod and draws a big breath instead.

As you straddle him, you take his hands and put them on your body, touching yourself using his hands, smooth as silk that he whimpers under his breath. You drop his hands on your thighs and put your hands on his chest as you start rolling your hips back and forth, at times, you move in circular motions.

Han lets out a groan as you abruptly stop moving and take his hands away from you, "Give me a moment," you say with a hoarse voice.

You flip all of your hair away to the back then plant both feet against the mattress on each side of his body. You prop your hands behind you and against his thighs as support.

In this position, Han can see his cock slips in and out of you as you bounce on top of him with your head thrown back and moaning, filling the room with your lewd noises. He can feel it now, your walls wrapping and tightening around him. His hands flew to your hips, trying to slow you down but instead of that, he gripped each side of your waist until his nails dug into the flesh.

"Oh..." you breathless moan.

"So good, so good," you repeatedly chant as your hips pick up the speed.

He doesn't mean to cum first but watching you enjoying yourself and fucking him so good gets him so overwhelmed, it just happens.

Seeing you getting tired, he helps you by guiding you to move on top of him. Your skin is moist with sweat, your breasts are bouncing with every movement and your breath is ragged.

"So close, oh, so close," you tell him between your whines.

He draws you close until your chest meets his so he can start bucking his hips from under you. His mouth is pressed against your shoulder as you're moaning so close to his ear.

"I'm cumming, oh..." you muffle your scream by pressing a haste kiss on his lips.

You whimper against his lips as you're reeling from the immense pleasure, returning the kisses with tongue and teeth clashes in your mouth. You both gasp for air the second you let go of the kiss and slowly come down from the high by cuddling each other.

Han gets comfortable touching your body now, he lightly touches you and kisses the skin that he can put his lips on as you're lying on top of him.

"That wasn't bad," you say with your eyes closed.

He notices the blissful smile on your face that can only mean everything went well unlike what he thought it would be.

You lean in to kiss his cheek and kiss his lips next, longer than the previous one, "This counts as our third date," you remark.

It usually scares him that things are going so fast but this feels right. Maybe all these times, he was wrong trying to fit everything into everyone's standard when in fact, things should go at his own pace.

He wouldn't let this slide away just because the time it took from him knowing you to date you happens in a week.

"Okay," he agrees.

You smile and place a long peck on his lips, "we're dating now," you say.

"Yes."

"I am your girlfriend now," you inform with a sly smile.

He lets out a chuckle and puts his hand on the nape of your neck, "And I am your boyfriend."

"That's right!" You respond.

"We're boyfriend and girlfriend," he remarks.

Even though it feels foreign in his mouth, he likes the sound of it. You and him, boyfriend and girlfriend.

TWO MONTHS LATER

Han is so used to thinking that he's the only character existing in his life. Han shopping for groceries by himself, Han does his laundry himself, Han makes coffee for one, Han sleeps alone on his bed, and he thinks of those kinds of scenarios in his head often enough to prepare himself that maybe what his future would be like.

Never once did he think another character would enter his scenarios. But looking at you walking around his apartment in his clothes, eating food from his fridge, and sleeping together almost every night, he starts to think that maybe his future wouldn't be as bleak as he thought it would be.

He also used to be by himself, he can't stand being in a room with anyone else and it's strange how fast he can adjust himself to your presence.

He's happy as long as you're around him, just like now. He's sitting with his back against the headboard, a guitar on his lap, and been aimlessly playing it yet you remain unbothered, lying sideways with a hand propped under your head while reading a book, occupying the end of the bed.

Even sharing the silence with you isn't boring, it's comfortable and nice. How can it get boring when he gets to see your beautiful face as much as he wants?

"Babe?" He calls.

You look away from your book, "yeah?"

"Want to hear a song I wrote about you?" He asks with a sly grin.

You exhale and close your book, "Okay, let's hear it."

Han takes a breath and memorizes the chords he's going to play, he begins by placing his fingers on the guitar fret to form the A chord.

He strums and starts singing, "Spinning on that dizzy edge. Kissed her face and kissed her head. Dreamed of all the different ways. I had to make her glow.”

Once he finds the rhythm, he can confidently look at you as he continues singing and playing his guitar.

"'Why are you so far away?' she said. 'Why won't you ever know that I'm in love with you, that I'm in love with you?'"

With such agility, his fingers seamlessly change their position based on the chords he's playing on the fret.

"You... Soft and only. You... Lost and lonely."

He smiles as he sings and stares at the expression on your face as you intently listen to him.

"You... Strange as angels. Dancing in the deepest oceans. Twisting in the water."

He raises the note at the end and croons, "You're just like a dream. You're just like a dream."

He aggressively strums the strings to end the song and lifts his guitar in pride.

"It's good, right?" He asks with a subtle eyebrow raise.

You turn and lay on your stomach, not sure if you know that in that position, he can see your cleavage as your breasts almost spill out of your black tank top. He shouldn't be seeing those but it's easy to tell you're not impressed with the song he played.

"Three things," you simply say.

"Go ahead and tell me," he allows you with a hand gesture.

"First, you think I wouldn't know that it's The Cure song?" You ask with a hand under your chin.

He looks up and shrugs, he can't find any reason why you wouldn't know such a widely known band, "Well..."

"Second is I don't like love songs," you share with an apologetic smile.

It hits him just now that he should know you're not a fan of love songs. He agrees with a nod, "Okay, noted. The third?"

"I don't want you to write a love song about me," you say.

"Oh, come on!" He groans in complaint.

"I haven't been dating anyone in a long time and now that I have a girlfriend, I have so much to get off my chest so let me be gooey and cheesy!" He rambles and runs out of breath at the end of the sentence.

"I'm not saying you can't write love songs," you say with a subtle eye roll.

"You want me to write love songs about... someone else?" He asks with confusion.

"Or about something like your faded and worn-out Supreme t-shirt," you answer.

Han can't tell if you're trying to mock him, make fun of him or completely joking, either way, he's feeling offended.

"Can I write a hate song about you then?" He asks.

You scrunch your nose and ask, "A hate song?"

"Yeah like things I hate about you," he says with a sneer.

He picks up his guitar and places it on his lap again, "You know what? I wrote one already just now," he says.

You stifle a laugh and lightly shake your head, "The stage is yours."

Han lies about making a song in his head just now but he starts by strumming his guitar and plays a combination of chords.

"I hate your hair..." he begins, strumming two chords in between as he thinks of another lyric.

"The way it always falls perfectly in place and makes you look like a girl in a shampoo ad," he tries to fit the melody to the chords he's playing.

"Hate it when you fix my grammar and insist that it's pronounced keen-wah instead of queen-noa," he continues while thinking of another thing he hates.

"I know you're right but god please let me be a man with pride."

You dramatically roll your eyes at that one while keep listening to him as he goes through a bridge which is just him playing the same four chords on repeat.

"Hate it, hate it that I'm your boyfriend," he keeps going.

"Now people going to compare us and say you have the prettiest smile," He slips two chords in between, "but that's okay... because I have the bigger brain."

You frown at that one and throw daggers with your eyes, he takes that as his cue to stop with his make-up song and ends it with a slap on the guitar.

"So..." he drags the word as silence hangs in the air, "what do you think?"

You tilt your head to one side and stay quiet for a moment. You rub your temple is never a good sign and he prepares himself for the worst.

Then you suddenly ask, "Want to make out?"

He repeatedly nods like a happy puppy, putting away his guitar as you crawl on the bed towards him. You put your leg over his body and sit on his lap.

You smile as you look down at his face with your hands holding his face, and then you slowly put your lips on his lips, kissing him with fondness.

He no longer hesitates to touch you, he puts his arms under and around you, angling your head so he can kiss you deeper, and when he pulls away from the kiss, he drags his mouth down the column on your neck.

"Han?" You softly call.

He hums and answers your call with a kiss because that's most likely what you're going to ask him which is to kiss you again.

The hand on his chest pushes him away and keeps a few inches between your faces, "I read your journal this morning," You suddenly confess and hurriedly kiss him, knowing that he's going to be mad about it.

It's his turn to push you away with his hands on your shoulders, "You went through my underwear drawer?"

There's a surprised look on your face, "Ew, no. It was lying near the window sill," you say.

It's his habit of forgetting things, where he puts them, and forgets to put them back in its place. He's bad with his memory but the thing is you read it.

"Another thing on the list of things I hate about you," he remarks.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic," you sigh.

"I wrote about my most personal things there," he says with his hands resting on your shoulder blades.

"Like how you lost your virginity in the backseat of a car while Radiohead's most depressing song is playing in the car stereo?"

"Exit Music For A Film is not depressing," he defends himself.

"They wrote it for the Romeo + Juliet soundtrack and they didn't even play it in the movie because guess what?"

"It's depressing?"

You nod and put your hands on his chest, it's time to turn the conversation back on track, "No one wants to listen to a song about how you lost your virginity but your other songs are good."

"You should let them out to the world," you say with eyes that sparkle and make his heart leap.

He turns away to not let your charm win him over, "You know how I feel about being a singer, by myself on a stage... it's awkward," he explains.

You turn his head back to look at you, "Okay then let's make a band!" You simply solve.

"Unless you want to join then I don't have anyone who wants to be in a band with me," he says with a defeated sigh.

You turn his head back to face you again, "how about a one-man band?"

"That's even lame. I never heard a successful one-man band," he says with a chagrin.

You put on a shocked face and start to list all the one-man bands you know, "Paul McCartney, Prince, Phil Collins, Bon Iver, Tame Impala, LCD Soundsystem, M83, Sufjan Stevens... and Dave Grohl basically started The Foo Fighters by himself," you finish with a proud smile.

"Dave Grohl and I are different entities, he is in Nirvana and I'm just... me, loser," he gives another explanation that makes him not pursue music.

"Being dramatic again," you sigh and rub your temple again.

He slides his hands down your arms and squeezes your elbows, he understands that you're trying to be supportive of his passion but he's not sure of his talent.

He sees your disappointed face and lifts your chin, "I'm not that good," he says.

You don't even try to deny him, probably have enough of doing it for him.

"And I'm still mad about you reading my journal," he says with a pout.

You put your hands around his neck and draw him close, "How about I give you head to make up for it?"

That gets him hot and bothered in a second, he plays it cool as if your words didn't affect him at all.

"Well, if you insist," he says.

You chuckle and kiss him, continuing the make-out session that is put to a halt by an argument. Your hand swiftly works open his jeans and slips inside, palming his hardening member with your hand.

"I'll make you forget that you were mad at me," you whisper before kissing him down his chest and pulling his jeans down to let his cock out of its confine.

Han has already forgotten that he was mad at you the second you take all of his length into your mouth, you're lying between his legs and taking your time to please him with your mouth.

Not just that, he's slowly losing his mind as you keep sucking him and combining it with your hand pumping the rest that you can't take with your mouth.

"Are you close, baby?" You ask before putting his swollen cock in your mouth again.

"Uh-huh," he breathlessly answers.

You pull it out and gasp for air, pumping his cock slick with your spit as you ask, "Where do you want to cum?"

His brain is foggy to pick one out of so many options but you notice that he's eyeing your chest and understand it right away.

You let go of his cock to take your tank top off and let your breasts hang down your chest as you lean down over his crotch to continue sucking his cock. Your nipples are grazing his thighs and his legs twitch at how it arouses him in a newfound way, "close, baby?"

He repeatedly nods and watches you keep the stimulation going by pumping his cock at a quick pace, bringing your chest close as you're doing it.

You put all of your hair to the back, not risking any of his bodily fluid lands on it. You moan and sigh, looking into his eyes as you say, "I can feel you twitching in my hand."

With a few more pumps, the white arch of his seed erupted from the tip of his cock, painting streaks on your chest and breasts.

"You cum a lot, baby," you say with an impressed, sultry smile for him to think that it's a complaint.

You keep your hand going up and down his shaft, milking every drop of the pearly white essence. You use the tip of his cock to smear it all over and around your nipples.

Once you're done playing with his cock that gradually softens in your hand, you crawl over to kiss him.

"Are you still mad?" You ask with a sweet, sinful smile.

He puts on a dumb smile and says, "Me? Mad? I must be crazy to be mad at you."

Han is in the middle of his class when he receives a new text message, he should be thankful to whoever texted him because he almost falls asleep until his phone buzzes on his desk and startles him awake. He checks the text by putting his phone under the desk and smiles seeing your contact name as the sender.

"Meet me at the library steps after class," you wrote in your text.

The library steps are located on the steps of the building across the library but they call it the library steps because most students like to read or study while sitting on the steps. Not sure if you know that his class has ended, he looks around and can't find you, so he takes a seat on the steps with his backpack next to his feet.

The weather is cool and pleasant, he has an hour before his next class starts so he has time to wait and enjoy the weather. After a few minutes, he spots you making your way toward him and he gets up to welcome you, you're walking so fast and not slowing down even though he's only a few meters away.

Crash is imminent but that seems to be what your intention is, you loop your arms around his neck and pull him for a kiss. This marks the first time you kiss him on campus and it's nerve-wracking, he can't stop thinking how many people are watching him now.

He looks around the second he lets go of the kiss and finds that no one truly cares. Well, it's not like kissing on the campus ground is illegal so why should he worry?

"Oh, I have fifteen minutes before my next class so I'm just going to text you what I need to tell you," you explain everything in one breath.

"Why can't you tell me now?" He asks, perplexed.

"Because you're most likely to forget it so I'll just text you," you answer and fix the collar of his shirt.

"Then why did you ask to meet me here?" He asks again even with more curiosity.

"That's because I want to see you and kiss you," you simply answer and give him a quick peck on the lips with a giggle.

Han laughs, the kind of laugh that makes him shine from within, a part of him that he has never seen until you brought it out of him.

"Why? I can't do that?" You ask with a chuckle.

He puts his arms around you and pulls you close, "We can definitely do that."

Han takes his turn to kiss you, giving you a long, lingering kiss and trying to keep it appropriate. He endearingly brushes your hair after and tucks it behind your ear. The sun hits you right in the eyes as you look up at him with a smile that is as warm as your smile.

"I have to go now," you mutter.

"Okay," he says and presses a long peck on your lips before letting you go.

It's been months since he dated you and he can still hear Bill Withers singing inside his head.

"Lovely day, lovely day, lovely day, lovely day..."

The address you sent is of the house of someone he doesn't know but he recognized some faces as he walked inside so he assumed it belonged to a fellow university. You said you'll be waiting by the kitchen but it's a big house and it's hard to navigate through the sea of people without bumping into one.

After getting lost in a maze of big and expensive furniture, he finds you in the kitchen like you said, nursing a bottle of beer while leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Hey, you're here!" You exclaim as you see him coming to you.

You're going right into his arms to hug him, "Miss you," you mumble.

"You're drunk already?" He jokingly asks.

You scoff and look at him, "Not even close," you answer.

It's impossible to resist kissing you when you're this close and you're smiling at him, your hands are around him like his personal comfort blanket. Han leans in and gives you a short yet sweet kiss on the lips.

You giggle when he pulls away and hands him your beer, "I have someone I want you to meet," you say.

Han doesn't realize that someone is standing at the end of the counter until you gesture him to come. A small guy wearing a beanie and glasses perched on his nose, he dressed so casually for a party in a white t-shirt and jeans.

"This is Felix," you introduce him.

Felix smiles and offers his hand for a handshake, "I'm Felix," he says.

He gets taken aback by his deep voice, not expecting that it's coming out of this elf-like person, "I'm Han," he introduces back.

"I know Felix from my communication class, we're doing an assignment together and I found out recently that," you turn to look at Han before continuing talking, "Felix plays drums."

Now he gets your intention of inviting him to this party, you know he hates coming to things like this but he understands now.

"I told him about your songs and your dream of forming a rock band," you explain, avoiding his eyes are you speak since you're doing all of it behind his back.

"Yeah, I'm interested," Felix says between his sips of canned Red Bull.

Han doesn't know how to explain to Felix that it's never his dream to form a rock band, it's mostly you and your steadfast conviction that that dream will come true.

"I don't—"

You cut him off by grabbing his and Felix's hand, "Now, come follow me," you say.

Han and Felix are trailing behind you as you lead the way to the basement of the house that he believes is off-limit to guests.

You open the door to what he guesses is a door to a supply closet, it's indeed that from stacks of sheets and towels on the shelf but on the back, there's another door. From the way you know that it's a sliding door, he believes you've been here but that's a question he'll ask later in private.

"Welcome to rich people's man cave," you announce.

It's a recreation room filled with fun and expensive stuff, it's a literal man cave because Han can imagine him spending most of his time here if he were the owner.

"Are we even allowed here?" Felix asks, being the only one with a conscience.

"I know the owner of the house and I've been here before," you reply but not really answering his question.

Han glares at you for now but something else behind you steals his attention away, a custom Fender Stratocaster. He goes to admire it with his hands.

"Felix, you may want to check this," you say, throwing away the white sheets covering the drums.

He gasps at the sight of it and not waste time sitting behind the drums, touching the surface of it with amazement in his eyes, "Why would they keep this sweet thing hidden in here?"

You stand in the middle of a room and watch them admiring musical instruments like they're historic artifacts. Having enough of being ignored, you say, "You guys can start jamming together, perhaps?"

Han turns to look at you and with his eyes widening, he asks, "You want me to play with this?"

"Yeah."

"Are we even allowed?" Felix asks again.

"No one can hear us playing," you reply and again, not really answering his question.

"How do you know people are not going to hear us jamming in here?" Han asks.

"Uh... I just know," you answer with a grin and a shrug.

"It's soundproofed," Felix adds as he touches the lined walls behind him.

"And it's soundproofed," you repeated his words.

Han doubts that your intention to help him form a band will go according to plan but he can't resist playing the guitar and there's no harm in playing one song.

"What do you usually play?" Han asks Felix.

"Metal, death metal, post-death metal, rock, classic rock..." he lists the genre instead of telling him the band names.

Han thinks of one famous rock song widely known by people but at the same time, he wants to test how knowledgeable Felix is within the rock genre.

"Let's play Black Hole Sun," Han says to him.

Felix thinks for a while, "Soundgarden? Yeah, okay," he agrees.

Now that the guitar is slung across his shoulder and right in front of him, he feels nervous to play it. He plugged the cable that connects it to the amplifier, he's tuning it while Felix is warming up and tightening the screws on the drums.

"Woohoo!" You cheer even though they barely started yet.

Han searches for the chords first on the internet to refresh his memory and warm up his hands, "Ready?"

Felix gives him a thumbs-up in response.

Han starts playing the riff then Felix comes in right after. It's a whole new experience for him to play a song with someone or just like what you called it, jamming.

"Black hole sun, won't you come and wash away the rain?"

with no mic, Han sings as loud as he can but it's impressive how Felix stays on the beat.

"Black hole sun won't you come, won't you come..."

He's too focused on watching Felix nailing the part that leads to the end of the song that he missed a chord, but quickly recovering from it.

"Woohoo!" You cheer again and Han almost forgot that you're in the room with them.

It was thrilling and exciting, he can feel his heart pounding with the guitar still hanging around his chest.

"That was fun!" Felix says with a grin.

Han is at a loss for words, not expecting that he'll love it this much. Maybe he's meant to form a rock band like you said. He holds his hand up at him for a high-five, "Good job, man!"

Felix excitedly high-fives him with a big grin on his face, he looks much more attractive without his glasses and Han can see freckles dotted his cheeks.

You wait until he puts the guitar down to jump at him and fortunately, he's strong enough to catch you, you press a haste kiss on his lips with an exaggerated smooching sound.

"See? I told you!" You tell him before pressing another kiss with your hands around his neck.

Maybe it's the adrenaline still lingering, he kisses you so passionately and ignores that there's another person in the room.

Another person comes into the room and surprises everyone that Han immediately puts you down, "Who are you guys?"

Han glances at you and you glance at him, there's a moment passed in awkward silence, then you make up an excuse on the spot.

"We accidentally stumbled here to get some privacy, you know," you purposely slurring your words and holding on to him to imply that you're drunk.

Han plays a long and puts his hand around your waist, drooping his eyes and putting a stupid smile on his face. He seems to buy it from the way he shifts his eyes to Felix.

"And what is he doing here?" The owner of the mancave asks.

"He..." you drag the word as you think of something, "likes to watch?"

The three of you are still laughing after getting out of the house and stopping to lean against a stranger's car, composing yourselves back from what just happened.

"You said you know the owner of the house," Han says.

"I know but we're not acquainted," you defend yourself with a sly smile.

You turn to Felix and pat his shoulder, "I'm sorry for making you a perv, Lix!"

"That's alright!" He responds with a coy shrug. He's digging into his pocket jeans to pull out his car keys.

"Where do you park your car? Mine is down the block," Felix asks.

You glance at Han before looking back at Felix, "We take public transport. We're a very eco-friendly couple," you say with a sneer.

"Ah..." Felix lowly gasps, "I remember you said your boyfriend is too nervous to drive a car."

Han wonders how much work you put into the group assignment because it seems like you shared things about him a lot rather than doing that.

"Let me give you guys a drive home," Felix kindly offers with a smile.

There's nothing phony about Felix. Han has met a lot of people in his life to know when someone is only putting up a good front but not with Felix, he can tell right away that he's a genuinely kind person.

As a way to get back to you, Han runs to the passenger's side before you and shouts, "Shotgun!"

That leaves you no option but to reluctantly get into the backseat of the car.

After turning the car engine on, Felix leaves it for a while to warm up while he connects his phone to the car stereo, "You don't mind that I put on some music, right?"

Felix is so well-mannered but Han doesn't find it obnoxious, he finds it adorable instead, "It's your car, do what you want."

Once he settles on a song, he backs the car out of someone's driveway and starts driving with one hand on the steering wheel. The song starts with a one-chord guitar strum and followed by a steady bang of drums.

"I AM IRON MAN!" You and Felix shout at the same time.

You lean forward between the seats and put your hand on his shoulder, "it's Lix's favorite band, Black Sabbath."

"Yes, I know," Han says with a snide smile.

"Why aren't you singing along?" You ask, cupping his chin with your hand.

Felix is focused on looking at the road ahead to pay attention to him and how you treat him like a baby, not that he doesn't like it but he prefers not to do it in public.

"Has he lost his mind? Can he see or is he blind? Can he walk at all? Or if he moves, will he fall?" You and Felix sing at the same time.

Han is just too embarrassed to join in but he knows you won't stop teasing him until he sings. Besides that, he can see why Felix likes this band, it's the intense and fast-paced drumming. He's doing it now by tapping his steering wheel with both hands.

Han decides to join when the song gets to the second chorus, "Nobody wants him. They just turn their heads."

"Yeah!" You exclaim in satisfaction and raise your voice louder.

"Nobody helps him. Now he has his revenge," the three of you filling the space in the car with your singing.

The song reaches the climax of heavy riffs and an impeccable guitar solo that makes him feel alive as the car glides through the night.

Today will be the first time for Han and Felix to do a band practice together.

Felix regularly practices his drumming and he can use the studio, one of the facilities provided by the university but its use is limited in time, they can practice on Thursday and Saturday for two hours.

"We'd better get started," Han says even though he hasn't tuned his guitar yet.

Han and Felix are in the middle of playing a warm-up song when you come into the studio, carrying drinks for them in one hand. You sit in the corner and watch them until the end of the song before handing out the drinks.

"Iced Americano for the boyfriend," you say as you hand him his drink with a kiss on the cheek.

You walk up to Felix to hand his, "Super sweet latte for the drummer."

"Thank you," Felix mutters and takes a big sip of it.

"Okay, I'm going back to sit in the corner and watch you guys jamming," you say with a smile, sitting on the stool and sipping your drink through a straw.

After taking a break, Han turns to Felix to ask whether he has studied the song he wrote to start practicing it.

"Yeah, I have but I saw that it's not finished yet?" Felix asks while tightening the screws on the drums.

"Yes, I plan on working the rest of the song together with you," Han answers.

Sure, Han is capable of working on the rest of his song himself but he wants to be in a band so every decision he's making now will not be his own.

Felix is patient yet eager to learn, he has musicality that Han believes is above him but he's unaware of it. He's humble and easy to work with, he couldn't find a better partner than him.

Two hours passed without him realizing it and he almost forgot that you were there in the room until you come his way, "Can we grab dinner after this?"

Felix packs his drumming sticks into his backpack, "I second that!"

Since the practice turns out to be a great one, it's only right for him to let the good times roll.

"I'll treat dinner!" He announces and you share a celebration high-five with Felix.

The practice is going well but Han feels something is missing. He's reclining on the seat after finishing his meal earlier than everyone else.

"I think we need one more member," Han suddenly shares.

You stop shoving another French fry and ask, "Why? I think you guys sound great!"

Han shrugs, he can't explain it because it's just instinct, "Two-man band is not it. You know what happened to The White Stripes," he explains with an example.

Felix wipes his mouth with a napkin and gulps his cola, "but that's because they have a half-decent drummer."

Hearing Felix's comment, you put down the French fry you're about to eat and push the plate away, "Don't you dare to drag my girl, Meg White, into this!" you say with squinted eyes at Felix.

"That's just fact," Felix innocently says.

"Three things," you say and rest your back, crossing your arms in front of you before laying out the three things on why Felix is wrong.

That's one of the things Han likes about you, you're not scared to speak your mind. He knows very well that you have strong opinions about certain things, he just doesn't like it when he's on the opposite side of things.

Felix is the unlucky one to be in that position right now but Han is more than happy to watch it from the sideline.

"First, their marriage got in the way," you begin with an obvious fact there is.

"Second, Meg took the "less is more" approach and you can get more power when you have more space and give songs character," you eloquently state.

"And third, Meg's parts are full of choices most drummers wouldn't make and that what makes her a one-of-a-kind player."

When Han thinks you're done explaining, you continue while leaning forward on the table, "'Seven Nation Army' is a perfect example of how simple doesn't mean boring. How many drummers would be satisfied playing the same beat for an entire song?" You aim the question at Felix who's looking petrified sitting across the table and too afraid to speak.

"Exactly!" You say even though he doesn't say anything but you take his silence as an answer.

"It's worth sacrificing our egos for the good of music," you finally conclude.

Han can't decide if he should stop it and risk getting trampled in the process or let it be which is a safer option.

"Okay, I'm sorry," Felix stammers.

"Tell that to Meg White!" You tell him.

"Uh... I'm sorry, Meg White," Felix apologizes again.

"Good," you shortly respond and lean back to continue eating your fries, turning back into your normal self.

After making sure you're relaxed and tame, Han decides to continue the talk about looking for another member.

"Anyway..." Han lets out a sigh and uneasily glances at you to continue speaking, "I think we need a bassist."

Felix drags his cup of soda and meekly sips it through a straw, "I don't know any bassist," he says.

"I can play bass but then I can't play two instruments at once, right?" He says with a smirk.

You lean to his side and coo, "Oh, must be tiring to be so good at everything!"

He playfully kisses your lips since you're leaning so close to him and it tastes salty. You giggle as you sit back to continue eating.

Something must have popped into his head as Felix shouts, "Ah, I have a friend who plays guitar really well."

That gets his hopes up that Han feels so optimistic about it again, "Yeah?"

"But she lives abroad now so..." Felix sounded so heartbroken when he said it.

"That's very helpful, Felix," you say while stealing some fries from his plate.

Han draws a sigh but it's too early to give up now, he has just started the band and who knows he'll find a new member soon.

"We just have to keep looking then," Han says.

"Yeah, I agree," Felix responds.

"I'll help," you eagerly offer with a sweet smile at him.

He endearingly pats your head and smiles back at you, "Of course, you are," he can't help but give you a quick peck on the lips.

You're not complaining when Han is riding shotgun again, probably not letting go of the argument you had with Felix earlier. Thankfully, Felix knows how to win you over.

"As an apology to Meg White," he says and presses play on his phone.

The iconic riffs of Seven Nation Army blast through the car stereo followed by the signature thumping of Meg White's drumming.

You break into a smile and shout, "Yeah, Meg White rules!!!"

Once he gets the privacy in his studio apartment, Han wraps you into a tight hug and kisses you so hard that you squeal, almost running out of breath.

"You're so hot when you argue," he says with a sly smile.

You chuckle and hold him back, putting your hands around his small waist, "Oh, you want to argue with me?"

He shakes his head and says, "No, I don't want to be on the wrong side of things."

What he said implies that you're always right about things and he knows that will win your heart with it.

"Good choice!" You say.

As expected, you reward him with a long, lingering kiss that escalates things further.

Being inside you strips him away from his sanity. He's thrusting into you hard and he doesn't know how you stay so calm and composed under him.

Your eyes are wide and awake, so still that he can see his reflection in them. You're smiling as you affectionately brush his hair to the back and caress his face.

"You're fucking me so good," you tell him with an open-mouthed kiss and you know that he needed to hear that.

It feels inexplicably intimate and raw, he feels naked than he already is with the way you're staring deeply into his eyes.

"Stop looking at my sex face," he turns to look the other way.

You chuckle and turn his head to face you again, making him look you in the eyes while fucking you.

He can't lie that he's close to his high, can no longer contain his groans so he lets them spill out of his parted mouth.

"Oh, fuck..." he curses between his grunts as he launches his cock deep inside you.

You break into laughter underneath him while he's still reeling from his high and his cock still planted deep inside you.

"What's so funny, mmh?" He asks with a kiss on your jaw.

You shake your head with your hands still hanging around his neck, "Nothing."

"You're making fun of my sex face, huh?" He says with eyes closed.

You don't answer but keep laughing even after he collapses onto the bed next to you, "Stop laughing!"

That doesn't stop you from laughing, he crawls over and puts his body on top of you, pressing a kiss to stop you from laughing.

It's a fruitless effort that you're still chuckling when he lets go of the kiss, "I hate you."

He presses a hard kiss on your mouth again and with a conflicted feeling he says, "But the sex was so good I can't hate you."

When he returns from the bathroom, he sees you already dressed in his t-shirt and lying on your side of the bed with your eyes closed.

He dives right into your arms with his head nuzzled into the crook of your neck, he puts your hands around him just how he likes it.

From the way your hand slips into his hair and softly scratches at it, he knows that you're still awake.

"So, how did it feel playing your song for the first time?" You ask.

A lot has happened in the last 24 hours but it's mostly good, practicing his song and getting to hear how it turns out is a feeling he can't describe.

What's important is this feels right to him, it feels like it's meant to be.

"It feels... amazing," he says with a dreamy sigh.

You hum in answer and place a soft kiss on the top of his head, "I just know that you're going to be great."

Your faith in him is unwavering and he starts to believe that forming a rock band of his dreams is possible and that he can create great things with this band.

"You know, Nirvana has this secret track called Sappy," you suddenly share with your voice low and sleepy.

"It's a great song and I wish that a lot of people know about this song," you say.

You pause to take a breath and quietly exhale it, "but at the same time, I want to gatekeep it."

You lift your head and search for his eyes to say, "That's you."

Han lifts his head to hover above you, putting inches between your faces, "You're saying I'm Sappy?" He jokingly says.

You sleepily smile and lick your lips before talking, "I want the world to know how great you are with your songwriting, your music, your wit, your unfunny jokes..."

He glares at you, feeling offended that you think his jokes are not funny.

"But at the same time, I want to keep it for you myself," you say with eyes that shine and show how honest you are with what you said.

It's a heartwarming analogy and he understands the sentiment in it. He hasn't shown all of his yet but you talk about his greatness like they're written in stones. Han appreciates you more for saying that and seeing through all of his shortcomings and weaknesses and unfunny jokes.

The sound of you calling his name, your laugh, your smile, your low snores, and everything that comes out of your mouth. Those are his favorite songs.

He places a soft kiss on your lips and murmurs, "You are my favorite song."

As much as he wants you to share your greatness with the world, Han wants to keep you for himself.

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