#I will never be able to progress in talent as much as I did that first day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hybeboyenthusisast · 9 months

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Better Than You / psh

post dividers by @cafekitsune

"Why do you act like you're better than me?" "Because I am better than you."

pairing: park sunghoon x afab!reader

genre: ice skater au, rivals to lovers, car sex

rating: 18+

warnings: oral (m and f receiving, m and f giving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, sunghoon is kinda an ass but it gets sorted, also hoon is pervy, marking, biting, public in private sex, car sex, their coach is the driver, both yn and Hoon are pervs, nicknames, innocence and corruption kink, degradation,cum eating, probably more that i cant think of (let me know if i need to add anything!)

permanent taglist (open): @junnmizz @ashxxgyu @igotkpoops @xiaoderrrr @alyssajavenss @mintxts @fanfangying1304 <3

wc: 4.7k (the longest I've written!)

if you like what you read, please consider leaving a comment and/or reblogging! it helps so much!

You stood up from your crouched position, your choreography for your next competition slowly being perfected the more you practiced it. Your coach cheered you on as the speakers cut out, the upbeat song coming to its end. You skated over to the exit to the ice rink, grinning at your coach as she applauded you wholeheartedly.

"You get better each time! It already looks so good," Coach Lee grinned at you, patting your back gently as you stepped off of the ice and back on the rink's normal flooring. You smiled, your chest puffing out a bit with pride after hearing your coach's compliments.

You could basically hear the eye roll Park Sunghoon did, or maybe it was just because of his very audible scoff. Your self-proclaimed rival on the ice, and the biggest pain in your ass. Despite having been training under the same coach for years, the two of you never could seem to get along.

You blamed it on him, though. He was stuck-up and snooty, and always made these little comments to undermine your progress and accomplishments. He must have thought he was perfect; maybe because you didn't point out his mistakes like he did to you. It was true that he had more experience, having trained for two years before you, but you had enough natural talent (as your coach said) that you were on the same skill level as Sunghoon within a single year.

"Hi, Hoonie." you cooed, knowing no matter what you said, it would piss the tall man off. Might as well have fun with it.

"Yn," he greeted you curtly, ushering you out of the way so he could have his turn on the ice. Your coach was used to your bickering, and had long given up on trying to make the two of you friends. "Move, damn it, you're so slow."

"I'm not slow! I just don't wanna move for you," you rolled your eyes at Sunghoon, leaning on the railing of the entrance in such a manner that kept your body blocking it entirely.

Sunghoon made a grumbling sound, perhaps he had even said something, but you weren't paying attention, and frankly, you didn't really care. "Yn sweetie, Sunghoon needs to practice today, too," Coach Lee gently coaxed you to ease up and move out of the way. She gave you a small smile and said her goodbyes before scurrying off to the bleachers, where she could get a proper view of Sunghoon while he practiced.

You slowly made your way to the bench where your stuff sat, grateful that today the ice rink was closed to the public. Nobody would be there to touch your stuff or steal anything, unless Sunghoon decided one day to become even more of an ass.

You sat down with a heavy sigh, your mind finally resting after being so caught up in the thoughts of your choreography. 'Okay, arms must be gentle, core must be tight- don't spin too fast.' 'You're a bird, flying, act like it.' You hadn't been able to just figure skate for fun in so long, but you had a serious training schedule and couldn't afford to play around and injure yourself.

No matter how much you disliked Sunghoon, you had to admit he had a good taste in music. His chosen song for his choreography for the next competition was actually one of your favorite songs, and you always found yourself humming along while he was practicing and you were getting ready to leave for the day. You hated to admit it, too, but he was very talented and moved so smoothly on the ice. You deeply admired his dedication and how good he has become over the years, but you would never tell him this.

Perhaps if he didn't spend nearly every moment making your life just a little bit more miserable, you would, but, alas. With the next competition rapidly approaching, you were dreading having to spend the 3 hour drive stuck in your coach's van with him. Most competitions the two of you participated in were more local, but as you were getting better and better, you began to compete in more popular events; which meant traveling.

Your coach always drove the pair of you to these farther away competitions, but it was never more than an hour, until now. Sunghoon always made those hour drives feel like hell, and you knew it would just be even worse with these longer drives. As if you weren't nervous enough before competitions, Sunghoon always managed to say something that made you doubt yourself; with an increased time frame to do this in, you were honestly very worried how he would affect your confidence and ability to perform.

You just had to ignore him.

Time flew by way too fast, and before you knew it, the day of the competition had arrived, and your coach was helping you load your gear into the back of the van. Sunghoon was already in the van, not bothering to help, of course. You would have refused his help, anyway. He'd probably find a way to break your skates or rip your costume.

"Are you nervous?" Your coach asked you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. You shrugged, not wanting to be too obvious, but yes, you were very nervous. You didn't feel like you had practiced enough, and you could already hear Sunghoon telling you that and telling you that you'll do terribly.

"I can do this," you responded, trying to convince not only her, but yourself. Your lips quirked up in a smile, moving to the side of the van and opening the door. Sunghoon sat, leaning back and already comfortable. He didn't even spare you a glance as you sat down next to him.

"Good morning, Sunghoon," you cheerily grinned, hoping a faux happy mood would turn into a real one. Sunghoon merely grunted in response, too engrossed in playing a game on his phone.

With any luck, this car ride would be quiet, and his stupid game would keep him entertained.

He was entertained, but not by a game on his phone like he pretended. You were wearing a skirt that showed off your thighs, and his eyes kept drifting over to them. You were too busy staring out the window, listening to music, to even notice his constant glances. Your skin looked so soft, so plush, and he just wanted to spread your legs and bite into your sensitive flesh.

It wasn't always like this; he genuinely disliked you for three years, until one day.... he didn't. He didn't even know when it had happened, but one day he was wishing you would quit ice skating, and the next, he was captivated by you as you skated around on the ice. Your choreographies were never sexy or sensual by any means...but he found himself so turned on when he watched you.

You looked so innocent, so pure, skating around and using your body to tell a story of hope and longing. Your face was always so soft when you were skating, contrasting the hard expressions you always wore when you were around him. He wanted to see you smile at him for once, but he couldn't bring himself to be nice to you. Even though you were his junior, you were so talented and expressive, always doing an excellent job of getting the story behind your choreography across. He refused to believe you were just as good as him, if not better, and so he continued acting like he always had.

He was just waiting for the day you realized you wanted him too- and hoped you would make the first move. He had always been so mean to you, there was no way you'd take him seriously if he asked you on a date or made a move. So he watched you from afar, mostly. It was always exciting being in close proximity to you, even when you had a scowl on your face because of him, but he loved watching you skate. He had secretly recorded videos of you practicing, watching them late at night when he jerked himself off and called out your name.

Sunghoon had done that last night, actually, and this morning before his coach had picked him up. This was a very, very bad mistake. The goal was to get all his horniness and desire for you out of his system, so he wouldn't lose his mind or go feral upon spending so many hours sitting next to you in a moving vehicle where you couldn't escape.

But he kept thinking about how the van had one of those panels separating the driver and the passengers, which your coach always used to give you both your space to mentally prepare for the competitions (really, it was so she wouldn't hear the arguing). If he started touching himself right there in the van, his coach wouldn't know, and you might not even notice.

Oh god, he was such a pervert.

You were minding your own business, letting your mind wander as you zoned out, staring out the window as the van drove along. You nodded along to the beat of the music you were listening to, not giving any attention or care as to what Sunghoon was doing.

Until there was a lull between a song ending and a song starting, and you heard him moan. At first you had no idea what to make of it; maybe you were just hearing things? Maybe he was watching a movie and the characters were having sex, and it was so loud you could hear it through both your headphones and his? You unlocked your phone, pausing your music.

You still weren't sure what was happening, but you could definitely hear heavy panting and quiet groaning. What if he was sick, and you did nothing to help him? Maybe you shouldn't have cared, given how he treated you, but you did. You turned to face Sunghoon and your jaw dropped.

His eyes were closed, thankfully, so he couldn't see you as you stared at him. His pants were pushed down his thighs, his boxers with them, and his hard cock was in his hand. He was jerking off, right next to you.

Your thighs unconsciously rubbed together, searching for some friction as you found yourself getting wet, watching your rival masturbate. Any normal person would freak out, call the cops maybe, do something other than what you did. But of course, you being you, instead undid your seatbelt and sank to your knees in front of Sunghoon.

Your movements must have scared the crap out of Sunghoon, as his eyes flew open and he immediately went to pull his pants back on, his cheeks blushing a deep red. You placed your hands on top of his, stopping him from redressing. Your face was crimson, too, as you stared up at him from the floor of the van.

Sunghoon froze as he stared at you, watching; waiting to see what you were up to. His eyes fluttered shut and a groan left his plush lips as you took his cock in your hands and playfully licked his red mushroom tip. The salty taste of precum made you moan, setting Sunghoon off again with another groan. He threw his head back as you slowly began to suckle on his dick, your mouth opening to take more and more of him.

Your tongue ran along his veins, enjoying how he tried to keep from fucking up into your mouth. His hands wound through your hair, pulling you down on his cock, as far as you could go. You breathed through your nose, squeezing your thumb into your palm to calm your gag reflex. You gazed up at Sunghoon as your nose brushed against his pelvis, your hands on his thighs, his cock poking at the back of your throat.

He was going wild the second you started bobbing your head and sucking on him. Your eyes sparkled in the sunlight that came through the windows, staring up at him with the most innocent expression while you were doing something so dirty. He thought you looked so sexy, sinful and pure all at once.

You just thought he looked hot as hell, strands of his black hair falling over his eyes, but you could still clearly see how much he was enjoying this. His hands massaged your scalp, helping you as you bobbed up and down along his aching cock. He was resisting the urge to just let go and fuck your throat, but he was so scared to take control; he thought it was a miracle you were even sucking him off in the first place.

As your eyes connected with his as saliva escaped your lips, creating a wet mess, you gave him a slight nod; you knew what he wanted. He was still hesitant at first, eyes widening as he realized you had stopped you movements and were pushing on his hands in your hand, trying to get him to take over. Your mouth full of his cock, saliva getting everywhere, he wouldn't even mind if he had died and this was his heaven.

He gently thrusted up into your mouth, eyes watching you carefully as you gagged around his length. You showed no signs of wanting him to stop though, so he began thrusting more, and more. You were moaning around his cock, gagging every so often, tears streaming down your cheeks as he began fucking your throat roughly.

His hands were pulling on your hair; not pulling you off, but pulling to keep you under his control. He loved seeing you like this; totally at his mercy as he ruthlessly fucked up into your mouth. The messier you got with every thrust, the better you looked, and the closer he was to cumming. You were sure you were literally dripping onto your thighs, your panties soaked as you let your rival fuck your mouth.

"Shit-" Sunghoon panted, his voice deep. "You take my cock so well, hm? Fuck princess, I'm gonna cum. You gonna be a good girl and swallow it all?" He gently pinched your cheek, cooing at you as you looked up at him with wide eyes.

With sloppier thrusts, he did exactly what he had promised; soon he was cumming, holding your head still, your nose pressed against his pelvis as he came in ropey spurts down your throat and in your mouth. He was muttering praises to you, pushing your hair out of your face and wiping away your tears as he pulled his now-soft dick from your mouth.

Your jaw was aching so much, but you found even the pain was enjoyable; as long as he kept looking at you like this. You wanted to hear more praises from him, swallowing his load, using your fingers to wipe up any cum that had escaped. Opening your mouth, you sat up on your knees and poked your tongue out so he could see you really did swallow it all.

His hands were gently as he pulled you up, so you were sitting on his lap, his lips connecting with yours. You moaned at how soft his lips were, pressing yourself into him, trying to taste as much of him as you could. He moaned into your mouth as your tongues fought against each other for dominance, tasting the remnants of his salty release in your mouth. You didn't want to pull away from his addictive kiss, but you did need to breathe.

And thank god you did. It was when you pulled away for air, that you noticed the van was driving off the highway to pull into a rest stop.

Scrambling off of Sunghoon, you helped him pull up his pants. You would just die from embarrassment if your coach discovered what the two of you had just done in her van while she was driving it. You situated yourself back in your chair, wiping at your face to try to remove any remaining evidence of your sinning. Sunghoon was fixing himself as well, sending you a smirk as the two of you locked eyes.

"I'm not done with you."

"You are such an asshole, Sunghoon!" You yelled at him from across the room.

Hours later, you were at the competition location, trying to hype yourself up before your performance. Just like you predicted he would do, here he was, ruining it for you.

It had just been a 'casual comment' that 'didn't mean anything', but you were just so tired of hearing him say such negative things to you, especially after you let him fuck your throat earlier.

The two of you stood in one of the hallways leading to the changing rooms, arguing over how he spoke to you. You really thought that after your steamy interaction earlier in the van, he would treat you differently; but, no. He was the same asshole he always was.

He wasn't even responding to you anymore as you were yelling at him, just staring at you with a blank expression.

"Why do you act like you're better than me?" You asked him, crossing your arms across your chest, trying to look tougher than you really felt.

He smirked at you (this bitch...) and merely responded, "Because I am better than you."

You knew he though this, but actually hearing him say it felt like a knife to the heart. Turning away from him quickly, hoping he didn't see as tears began to well up in your eyes, you hurried down the hallway, desperate to get away from him. His smirk dropped as he watched you run away, his heart dropping along with it.

He had never seen you cry, never seen you run away. You always took his comments in stride, seemingly never letting his words affect you. He didn't even think before he ran after you, following you outside the building to the parking lot. His heart dropped even more as he spotted you sitting on the pavement, leaning against your coach's van. Your arms were wrapped around your knees, your face pressed into your legs. Your body was shaking; you were crying.

You were crying because of him. Despite all his pride, everything he felt that propelled him to act so nasty towards you, he never wanted to be the reason you were crying.

"Yn," he said your name softly, crouching down next to you. He frowned at the sound of your sniffles and heavy breathing, moving to sit next to you and wrap his arms around you. "I'm sorry. It's not true, I'm not better than you. I'm so sorry," he whispered to you, resting his head against yours.

At his words you lifted your head, swollen red eyes locking with his. "Why are so you mean to me, Sunghoon?"

What a damn good question. He hesitated before he answered, knowing he could no longer hide behind his pretend ego to hide his own insecurities.

Sunghoon sighed, giving your body a gentle squeeze. "I'm so jealous of you. You're so naturally talented, and so expressive on the ice. You started training after I did, and you caught up with me so fast. I guess it just made me feel insecure about my abilities."

"I never intentionally did anything to make you feel that way, but you have gone out of your way to make me feel like I'm a failure, that I can't succeed no matter how hard I try," you whispered, fresh tears falling down your red cheeks. Sunghoon moved to wipe them away, and you let him, your eyes holding his captive. "I have wanted to quit so many times, just because of you."

Sunghoon's eyes widened at your revelation, one hand cupping your cheek, pulling you into him. He rested his forehead against yours, whispering his apologies. "My behavior has been awful, and there is no excuse for it. You do not deserve to be treated the way I have treated you. I'm so sorry, yn, for not treating you with respect and with love."

"L-love?" You stuttered, pulling back in surprise.

Instead of responding, Sunghoon leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours so gently that you weren't sure he was kissing you at first. Maybe you should have pulled away and slapped him, but you couldn't bare to break apart from him. Your lips danced against his hungrily, wanting to be as close to him as possible.

Sunghoon's lips never left your own as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you up so you were standing with him. He pressed you against the door of the van, one hand cupping the back of your neck to pull you into him, the other searching for the door handle. He held onto you to keep you from falling as he pulled the door open, sliding it along before nudging you inside.

As soon as the door was closed behind you, Sunghoon had you pinned on the backseat of the van, his weight pressing into you as you laid down. You tugged at his shirt, helping him take it off as he pulled from the kiss. He shivered as you ran your hands over his toned chest, pulling him in for another searing kiss.

Screw air, you just needed more of him. In between kisses, more and more clothing was removed, until the both of you were bare. Sunghoon's heated kisses traveled down your neck as he pinned your wrists above your head. His lips found one of your pebbled nipples, suckling on it and running his tongue over it, doing his best to pay attention to what made you moan the loudest.

Your hands wound in his hair, pressing him into your chest as he switched to suck at your other nipple, his other hand going to massage your breast. "Fuck, Sunghoon, I need more, please," you whined, rutting your hips upwards, trying to find any source of friction.

"I never imagined you would be this dirty," Sunghoon chuckled, pressing a kiss to your stomach and making his way down, leaving a trail of wet kisses and marks as he found his way between your thighs. "You always look so innocent when you're skating, so pure. I've thought about what it would be like to ruin you, but you're already a pretty dirty girl, hm?"

You moaned as Sunghoon held your thighs apart, leaning in to nudge his nose against your clit, inhaling your scent. He peppered kisses along the insides of your thighs, always getting so close to where you needed him the most, but always skipping right over it.

"Answer me, pretty. You're a dirty girl, aren't you?" Sunghoon's hot breath fanned against your dripping pussy, so close yet so far.

You nodded, your hands holding onto the seat underneath you for dear life. "Y-yes, Hoon! I'm a dirty girl!"

He smirked against your skin, "You're my dirty little angel."

Your hands flew to his hair as he pressed a kiss against your clit, two of his fingers swiping at your wet folds. You moaned out as they entered you, falling into a fast pace instantly. His tongue swirled around your clit, sucking every now and then, doing his best to coax an orgasm out of you. As your moans got louder and louder, he was groaning against you, rutting into the seat underneath him.

You tasted so sweet, he could just eat you forever. He would, actually, if you let him. The sounds he coaxed out of you were just as sweet, something he hoped he would get to hear over and over again for many years to come. Now that he had a taste of you, he wasn't letting you go.

"Hoon, baby, I'm gonna cum," you whimpered, grinding your hips into his face. Hearing your words, he doubled down on his efforts, quickly bringing you to your peak. He groaned against you as you came, his tongue dipping down to your folds to lap up every drop of your essence that you blessed him with. You were shaking, coming down from your high, just barely registering the sound of Sunghoon slurping your cum off of his fingers. "P-please, Hoon, fuck me," you whimpered.

He didn't need to be told twice. The two of you let out loud moans as he thrusted into you, your tight walls squeezing his thick cock so well. He was definitely the biggest person you had been with, and you were loving how well he stretched you out. His lips found yours, gentle as his thrusts turned to a brutal pace.

He was already so on edge from eating you out, he was worried he wouldn't be able to last long with how tight you were squeezing him. He was determined to get you to cum on his cock before he came, thrusts beginning to alternate between a fast and rough pace to a slow and gentle one.

You scrapped your nails down his back, so lost in the pleasure that he was giving you. You were still so sensitive from your first orgasm, and you found yourself getting much closer to your climax with how well Sunghoon was fucking you.

"Baby I'm not gonna last long if you keep squeezing me like this," Sunghoon grunted, hips snapping up into you, reveling in the way your body was starting to shake. His hands roamed the expanse of your body; fingers gliding along your soft skin, twirling your nipples in his fingers, holding you with a bruising grip.

You moaned as he bit down on your shoulder, easing the pain by licking it over and kissing it. He repeated this action up and down your shoulder, leaving a trail of marks everywhere his lips touched. With one bite on your collar bone and his fingers toying with your clit, you screamed as you came around Sunghoon so fast that you couldn't even warn him.

Your orgasm triggered his own, your walls clenching so tight around him that you were basically milking him. His seed painted your insides white, his hips thrusting into yours as he rode out both your high and his. He collapsed on top of you, careful not to put his full weight on you. The only sounds in the van were yours and his heavy breathing.

Your skin was sticky with sweat, making the two of you rub against each other in an almost uncomfortable manner, so Sunghoon pulled out and rolled off of you. He sat on the floor, gazing up at you as you whined at the loss of him inside of you. You were so tired, your body felt heavy, yet you also felt more energized than ever before.

You giggled as Sunghoon kissed your nose, moving to grab your discarded panties and using them to wipe up the cum that was dripping out of your spent pussy. He grinned cheekily at you as he found his jeans and stuffed your dirty panties in his pocket. "These are mine now."

You didn't even realize what you were saying before you said it; you didn't even think these words before they left your mouth. "I think I love you."

Sunghoon froze, hand stopped on its way to gather your clothes for you. He looked back at you, seeing the look of horror on your face as you realized what you said. "I think I love you too."

"Good luck, princess," Sunghoon grinned at you, his arms wrapped around your waist. It was almost your turn in the competition, and you weren't nervous at all.

You giggled as Sunghoon kissed your nose before placing a sweet kiss against your lips, squeezing your waist. "Thank you, Hoon."

"I don't know why you love me, but I am so glad that you do. I promise I will spend every day treating you the way you deserve," Sunghoon told you, his expression serious. He was determined to treat you like a princess from now on; after all, you had agreed to be his girlfriend.

You kissed your boyfriend sweetly as you broke from his grasp, stepping onto the ice. You locked eyes with your former rival, a smile gracing your lips as you got into position.

No matter the outcome of the competition, you were a winner.

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nterini · 8 months

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The Leftover Kids in ONLY FRIENDS

A character analysis of Boston and Ray Ep. 6

This episode reveals a bit more about Boston’s character, and while it doesn’t justify his actions (because your past doesn’t have to justify all your present decisions, especially in fictional characters) we’re able to better understand his impulse to “humble” others when it seems to him like they’re finding their own way.

We learn that Boston’s mother remarried, and flew to another continent to start her new life. And while I don’t want to make assumptions, something about Boston’s politician father (who calls him only to speak about his campaign and winning over young people) encouraging his son’s impulses to toy with the emotions and bodies of others may have had something to do with it. Boston, time and time again tells Nick that the potential of the public finding his sex tapes (with other men) would be a burden to his father’s career. We don’t know if Boston has come out to his father, but the ultimatum that Boston must graduate or be sent back to New York to live with his mom shows his father’s willingness to get rid of a son that may not fit his public image. Boston is a talented photographer and someone in the demographic he wants to target; why so eager to send him away.

In the next scene, while comforting our favorite crazy lovesick puppy, he tells Nick, that the reason he doesn’t make lasting relationships is because he knows he has to leave anyway (and some more be about how he’d be a better photographer abroad). Maybe it’s because of the pressure he feels from his father, but Boston believes that there’s no place for him permanently anywhere. No one has chosen him for an “unconditional forever love” and no ever one will. He’s had no power over that. If my assumption that Boston’s father already knows of his son’s sexuality, and is slowly freezing him out and that Boston knows this already, Boston’s view of his future in Thailand, one that will always be queer, must be bleak. His own father, a popular candidate elect, does not want him. This loss of control triggers him. We see Boston seek control of potential rejection in the way he pursues his flings. He prefers Nick over all his other flings because he’s confident that Nick will always choose him no matter what selfish things he says. He’s envious of Mew who’s constantly chosen and pure, of the perfect Top who rejected him and has his life together, and of Ray and Sands budding relationship. He believes he’ll be left alone again, so he sabotages externally against anyone’s progress.

It’s what makes his scenes with Ray that much more interesting. Because Ray is just like him, except he sabotages internally.

We were introduced to Ray’s family background a few episodes back, and the toll it took on him emotionally, physically, and mentally. His mother was a young and talented actress who married rich, and whose light was dimmed in that marriage. And whether it was resentment over her lost career, Post-partum depression and an uncaring husband, or just a worsening addiction that was left untreated, she died alone drowning herself in alcohol. We know that Ray did not receive much affection from his mother and that his father was just as neglectful. Ray has learned to use money to buy emotions, companionship and intimacy. Unfortunately, he seems to be following in both his parents footsteps.

There is a theory going around that Boston has had a secret unrequited crush on Ray. And while I don’t think there’s a lot of evidence that supports this ship, it’s a plausible theory. However, the way he constantly goes back to Nick when he needs comfort and conversations, other than just straight sex, says the opposite. I think a better conclusion would be that Boston finds comfort in Ray’s lack of growth and misfortune. After all, they’re very similar. Leftover, abandoned, rich kids that were never chosen. I don’t even think he had any ill intention against Mew when he slept with Top or even with Ray. I think deep down he’s secretly comforted by seeing Ray heartbroken. It makes sense that he was triggered when he saw that Ray might have found someone to help him come out of that misery. He doesn’t provoke Mew or Top the way he does Ray. Maybe it’s because Ray doesn’t see how similar they are. Maybe it’s because Top and Mew see right through him.

Mew’s role in their friendship is also really interesting 🤔. Ep. 7 might give us inside Mew’s thoughts and actions. Is Mew manipulating his rich friends to get his dream career and partner or is it all all a grand plan to help heal the lives of the people he cares about most.

Overall, I love how real the show feels. The discussions of drugs in Thailand’s queer community, of privilege and class struggle, it all feels incredibly genuine. It’s hot and steamy and we’ll written. Like we CAN have all of these things at once! The growth that I see in BL/Queer (the slash is necessary) content gives me hope. Please give the lesbians (AprilNamchueam) more screen time plsssssssss 😩.

(Please excuse any typos and errors.)

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icedmatchatae · 1 year

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Glimpse of Us | KTH Chapter VIII: Please Don’t Break It

Pairing: Problematic Idol Taehyung x Grad Student Reader

Genre: Idol AU, Ex-Childhood Best Friends into—, Angst (Hello, welcome to my angst central), Fluff (mainly in the flashbacks), Slow Burn, Eventual Smut

Summary: BTS’s V has been living a lavished and successful lifestyle, but underneath all of that, Kim Taehyung is far from the perfect image the media and fans made him out to be. All he wants is to relive the feelings of happiness and purpose in his life, but how can he when he left behind those memories years ago? The same memories, he hopes to see a glimpse of.

Warning: Angst (but what’s new), mentions of incompetency, scenes of therapy, mentions of past substance use (alcoholism, drugs), brief mentions of withdrawals, alcohol consumption, intoxication, aggressive behavior, violence/fights, mentions of murder (no one gets killed) descriptions of panic attacks, vomiting, crying, [Disclaimer—how panic attacks occur varies by the individual. I for one have experienced panic attacks and used some of the methods described. It may not work for everyone but it worked for me and how to cope]

Word Count: 12.6k

Chapter VIII: Please Don’t Break It || Series Masterlist

After the school bell rang, second-year middle schooler Taehyung exited the classroom with his three other classmates. They were talking in-depth about the new volume of One Piece that came out recently. As they were doing so, a flyer plastered on the school’s bulletin board caught his eye.

Geochang Middle School’s Annual Talent Show.

Taehyung remembered last year’s and it was absolutely remarkable. The singing, dancing, the tricks, students performed. He was impressed yet slightly envious of their confidence. He wished to sign up, but he was actually shy about his abilities. He has been practicing the saxophone, but he didn’t think he was all that skilled yet. He can dance?? It was a trial and error, but he didn’t look weird doing it.

But the thing he loved doing the most was singing. He loved it and learning how to sing songs and melodies. Although he never really performed in front of others before, well, except you and his family.

“Hey, Tae! Your girlfriend is coming.” One of his classmates tapped his shoulder for his attention. The other two snickered in the back, making him roll his eyes at their playful teasing.

“Not my girlfriend.” Taehyung corrected as always before turning his head and smiling to see your bright one.

It was your first year in middle school and was so excited when you got into the same school as your best friend. Though you weren’t in the same classes, you were still able to have lunch with him and walk to and from school with him. With your stuffed backpack carried over your shoulders, your uniform bounced in the air as you eagerly walked towards him.

“Whatever you say!” His classmate scoffed before the three of them went their separate ways. Taehyung waited for you as you headed down the hallway.

Once you reached him, he pulled you into a big hug and shook your body happily in his arms. “You think you did well with the quiz after lunch?”

As you parted away, you nodded proudly with your shoulders high. “It was surprisingly easy. Algebra equations weren’t as bad as I thought.”

“Only you would say that because you love math so much.” Taehyung retorted before his eyes diverted back to the board. “Hey, Blue.” He then pointed at the flyer. “What do you think about the talent show?”

Your eyes followed his pointing and hummed in thought, “I haven’t seen it, but it sounds like fun. Of course, I could never do that.”

Taehyung chuckled softly at your evident shyness from the spotlight. His curled lips progressively sunk as the nerves got to him by the thought. “W-What if I…signed up?”

Your head pivoted at him as your irises gleamed with glee. “If you signed up, you’re gonna be amazing, Hyungie! You have so many talents!”

A tint of pink powdered across his cheeks and nose from your compliment. “Stop, you’re just lying.”

You gasped dramatically before slapping his arm, “I can’t believe you think I’d stoop that low. I would never lie! I’m always honest with you.” You pouted childishly as you crossed your arms over your chest.

Taehyung cooed at your fond expression, wrapping his arms around you once more. “Of course, my Blue. Forgive me!” You shook your head before getting away from him. He quickly followed behind and caught up.

The two of you walked out of the campus and headed down the pathway toward your houses. There was a moment of silence before you spoke up about the talent show. “So…are you gonna sign up?”

He sighed as he stared up into the clear sky. “I’m not sure, like what if I’m not good enough?”

“If I’m not mistaken, it’s a middle school talent show where anyone could sign up for anything.”

“Wow, you say it so rashly.” He laughed, throwing his head back. “I don’t wanna make a fool out of myself. Middle schoolers are mean!”

“You’re not gonna make a fool out of yourself.” You reassured, holding the straps of your backpack. You pulled on it, so it’ll lift higher. “Because you have talents. Singing, dancing, playing an instrument…”

“Rapping?”

“No.”

“How can you be so cruel??” He shouted, his prepubescent ego shattering at your comment.

“I told you I’m always honest with you!” You giggled mischievously but spotted him pouting like a puppy. “Hyungie, I’m serious though. If you sign up, it’s gonna be a decision you won’t regret.”

“Really?” He asked, still having doubt.

“Of course, because if you won’t, you’ll keep thinking about it and wondering what if.” You linked arms with him as you leaned into his body. “If you do, I’ll support you every step of the way, okay?”

You sure knew how to make him feel better. Like how you needed reassurance, he needed some cheering on too. He looked down at you with a sad smile on, “You know how nervous I get, Blue.”

You nodded empathically, then squished your cheek towards his arm. “As I said, I’ll be the one to support you every step of the way.”

“So from all of this, how do you feel about her back in your life?” Dr. Im looked at Taehyung sitting across on the couch as practice and routine. In the idol’s opinion, the past sessions have been dreadful. Dr. Im said nothing negative regarding his client, but through his therapist’s non-verbal responses, it was best to say he even agreed.

Taehyung was aware he was at fault. He hasn’t been honest with him, despite certain sessions’ moods consisting of feeling good and better. Though the idol first entered into therapy to “get better,” his goal remained undetermined. Dr. Im tried very hard to cooperate with his stubborn client. He got him talking about happiness in previous sessions, but even that had gotten static.

Taehyung didn’t know why he was so hesitant into telling Dr. Im about his life. Before their meeting, the company provided a file for the professional so he knew everything about him including his alcohol and drug use, minor fights and under-the-table conflict, and even his…episodes that only his close-knit circle knew about.

Dr. Im reminded him again that these sessions would lack if nothing was spoken. He was brutally honest when he spoke that though progress wasn’t linear, actions and words had to be made to see progress. He was there to help by all means within the time frame. Because they both knew that Taehyung wanted to feel better, be better. Yet the term was used so often that it felt futile.

Though he was worried, Taehyung eventually opened up about something. He explained how unsatisfying life has been, including the struggles of feeling happy. But one good thing that has happened recently for the last months was reuniting with you. He described your childhood friendship, how close-knit you were with him and even his family, the fights and distance that happened leading up to the falling out, the reunion, the start, and potentially the beginning of the end once again.

It was the way Taehyung rambled about you for such a long time that there were only ten minutes left in the session. Though Dr. Im enjoyed every minute of how willing the idol talked, he needed to get out some answers to all of this.

“So how are you with her now?” His therapist asked.

The idol frowned at the recent memory. It has been two weeks since you’ve last spoken to him or since he last saw you. When it reached the one-week mark, he have had enough and tried to go to the restaurant to see you. But for some reason, Jungkook convinced him that you didn’t want to see him. Why? The answer was through Jungkook’s phone. You texted him saying he was forbidden to see you.

Everything he experienced about that felt so wrong to him that it stabbed him in the chest. The distance between you two seemed to grow as days went on. He missed you and wanted to talk to you. He didn’t like how close you were being to his member, nor did he like how you text Jungkook instead of him. The youngest even texted you right in front of him with a fucking smile too.

You were his best friend. Not fucking Jeon Jungkook.

Nevertheless, Taehyung grinned appreciatively as he reminisced about his time with you those weeks before. “It’s nice, I love it, a lot…” His responses were curt but genuine. “I, uh, she was actually part of my memories when I was happy. She was a big part of my life and helped me through a lot. I guess you can say, I wouldn’t be where I am today if it wasn’t for her.”

“Which is…”

The idol squinted his eyes as he dived into the question. “Well, being an idol. To tell you the truth, I used to get quite nervous in front of crowds or people in general. In earlier times, performances used to trigger…my episodes.” His face grimaced at the worrisome experiences, especially the ones when you weren’t there. “She was there to help me, and also encouraged me to sign up and audition.”

“What I’m hearing is how appreciative are you of her?” His therapist smiled empathetically, making Taehyung nod. “I’ve noticed from the way you talked, you must really care for her too despite the years away. She is very important to you.”

“I’ll always care for her,” Taehyung confirmed pridefully with no arrogance slipping out. “Even when I accidentally become a dick sometimes.”

“And why do you think that?”

Chewing on his lips, Taehyung looked at the man as if he caught something that wasn’t supposed to show. He could lie to his therapist, but what good does it do for him? He was spending his money on this anyway. Either way, Dr. Im was wise and has been in the game for decades. A problematic idol wasn’t going to outsmart him because he’ll eventually find out about it.

So he gave up his internal battle and sighed. “I guess because I’m selfish.” And before Dr. Im could say what the meaning behind it was, Taehyung continued. “Since my life was in shambles and was in the dark for so long, I wanted a little bit of control in my life.”

“Care to explain? I remembered you talking about being an idol and the exposure to the world.”

Today was shockingly growth between him and his therapist. Taehyung was willing to let most of his vulnerability flow out in hopes to find at least one other person who understood his thoughts and feelings without shaming him for what he has been doing. “And to be honest, I feel like I haven’t made progress. It’s been the same bullshit every day for the past year and…I don’t know. I don’t feel good at all.“

“You’ve been going through a lot, especially recently.” Dr. Im responded as he scribbled down more notes on his clipboard. Once he was done, he placed his pen and clipboard on his lap to look over at his client. “I know you may think and say that you haven’t done much, but from seeing you when you first came to now, I’d say you’ve changed.”

Snorting in disbelief, Taehyung rolled his eyes as he leaned back into his seat. “Stop lying, sir.”

“As someone in this field of work, it is unethical to lie. Well, when was the last time you used or took substances? Recklessly drunk? Been into fights? Or even have your panic attacks?” His therapist listed meaningfully as he observed the idol.

Pursing his eyebrows together, Taehyung pondered on the thoughts. Sure, he has gotten drunk and had minor episodes but it wasn’t to an extent compared to last year. Jesus Christ, last year was a whole mess. Taehyung was going through scandals back to back and HYBE had to cover it up because most of them were true.

Substances…he promised Namjoon and Jimin that he’d stop for the sake of the group, but he took it hard with his withdrawals. Screaming, hitting, throwing things around, and being tackled by a member or his friends. One of the only coping mechanisms was drinking or fighting with the members, and even that still wasn’t good.

Taehyung merely shrugged, “I still drink but less, I guess. I don’t know about the rest…probably a while. I was forced to stop when I came here. The…substances that is.”

“That’s amazing, Taehyung. You’ve pushed through that very well.” Dr. Im praised and nodded. “There have been improvements. You just haven’t been entirely aware of them with everything else that’s going on.”

“You think?” The idol asked softly. He always had this concern. His life never felt any better—apart from you—to fully accept how much he overcame in the past year. There were still more problems, but fewer than before.

“Of course, I’ve kept track and listed down all we discussed and the concerns that were brought up from the first time.” Dr. Im explained. “I commend you with your strength.”

“But what if I fuck up? Won't disappointment come my way?”

“Having those negative emotions will not benefit the situation, whether it’s internal or external. The hars truth would still be that you messed up, but there’s always time to get back up. Relapsing happens, but it's not the end. It may take longer but have patience with yourself.”

Taehyung didn’t realize that a tear ran down his cheek until he hiccuped a sob. But it wasn’t by the comment. It was the realization that Dr. Im was the only person who understood him being like this—a fucked-up unhappy person. Someone who won't blame him or scold him around.

But still, the hard-hitting question lingered in his mind. With or without all the problems he had, why was the feeling still there? “But even with all of that, then why am I still unhappy?”

You were wiping down tables while Kenji took a nap behind the cash register. You glanced at him before shaking your head in disappointment as always. He was lucky that it wasn’t busy today, it was practically empty. Then again, rush hour for lunch was over so all that was left was to wait until dinner time.

You heard rummaging through the tarp before looking up to find Jungkook and Jimin smiling and waving at you. “___! Hi!” Jungkook greeted you before coming towards your frame for an unexpected hug.

You flinched at the touch before carefully hugging him back. “H-hi?” You lightly pushed away from him despite his strong grip. You waved at Jimin with a friendly smile. “W-what are you two doing here?” You were kind of shocked to see them. It wasn’t a bad thing because they’d been here before, but those times, they would be with Taehyung.

You haven’t spoken to or seen Taehyung since the somewhat incident. You weren’t angry at him, but the behavior still bummed you out. You were still undecided about how to think about it, but it didn’t mean you wanted nothing to do with him anymore. Ugh, you regretted those words out of your mouth. It didn’t even help that you even texted Jungkook you didn’t want to see Taehyung at all the day after.

Wow, you were dramatic and exaggerated everything. Can’t really blame yourself because of all the trauma and hardship that you’ve experienced.

You wanted to see Taehyung again, and knowing how stubborn he was, you expected him to come and disregard your insult at most a week, the earliest being the following day. But now it has been two weeks, and you were rethinking your actions. Though it was to protect yourself, you were still so hard on him. Every frown, sad twist on his face, the deflating in his shoulder, it killed you.

You always hated seeing him like that, even when you were younger. If Taehyung hated seeing you cry, then you despised seeing him sad or scared. He was never good on his own with things like that, so you wondered how he held up all those years.

These months reuniting with him were flourishing. When you were able to push the tension to the side, you’ve seen a new light of this Taehyung. More mature, more charismatic, and more confident in himself, which made you very proud to see knowing his struggle.

But after reflecting and being honest with yourself, you truly saw your Taehyung in him. Still playful, still has a shit ton of friends, still caring, still affectionate, still thoughtful, you’ve seen him all the time.

You just weren’t fully trusting of him to even accept it. You were scared, but you had every reason to be. You knew the effort he made while you gave very little. Maybe he too had his reasons for the mishap. You shouldn’t think of him so lowly, he was trying his best while you weren’t. You felt guilty about what you’ve done and now suffered the consequences.

You dearly wanted his friendship, whether you liked it or not.

You did miss him within the weeks that passed. Maybe it was your turn to approach him.

“Jimin Hyung actually just came back from a trip to America.” Jungkook stretched a smile at you. “That means to eat your heart out with homeland food.”

You chuckled at him as you threw the used cloth into the bucket behind the cashier, though you purposefully missed so it hits Kenji hard enough to wake him up. He startled awake and groaned when he smelled the dirtied fabric on his face. He threw it rightfully into the bucket before standing up and glaring at your calm state. It happened before, but it always got to him like it was the first time.

“So I’m assuming you both are here for dinner? It’s pretty early for that, but doesn’t matter.” You quipped as you pulled out two menus for them.

“Actually, no.” Jimin shook his head, which made you confused. “We wanted to invite you out…for dinner.”

“Uhh, what?”

“Please, it’ll mean so much for us if you could come.” Jungkook came forth to you and grabbed your hand with both of his. Gently squeezing it when you tensed up, you seemed to relax right after. “It’ll be fun! We have to go to our company building really quickly, but we’ll eat!”

Though their invitation remained harmless, you couldn’t help but be hesitant of them and their doings. For starters, you were working and it was a weekday. You were sure you explicitly mentioned that you worked every day of the week except weekends. Though Jungkook and Jimin were kind, you don’t know much about them. Yes, you texted Jungkook from time to time but he’d usually initiate it and if you hung out with them, Taehyung would be in the picture.

“Umm, just us?” You asked. When you felt another pair of eyes on you, you glanced to the side to find Kenji staring entertainingly.

“Well, Hobi Hyung and Namjoonie Hyung will come too! That’s why we have to go back to the company.” Jimin responded enthusiastically. “Everyone else has a schedule or other prior engagements—”

“Then I remembered you, and we haven’t hung out in a while!” Jungkook interjected impatiently, squeezing your hand again for encouragement. “Please, please, please, come!”

Now there was too much hand-in-hand contact with this man. You pulled your hand away from him but lightly laughed it off to avoid any awkwardness. You waved him off and shook your head. “Thank you for the offer, but as you can see I’m w—”

“___ can go!” Kenji shouted out of the blue. He sped towards you before wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into him. You huffed at the unexpected contact with your smiling coworker before scowling up. “We aren’t as busy today actually, so we don’t need two workers here. I’m the boss so…”

“Excuse me, you are definitely not—”

“Give yourself a break from time to time, ___.” Your coworker suggested. “The last time you did so was when you were in the hospital, which shouldn’t really be the only time to take a break.”

“Kenji!”

“Halmeoni will understand and will be happy for you!” Kenji wasn’t taking no for an answer. You thinned your lips into a line before pushing him away.

“Just because you’re their grandson doesn’t give you special privileges!”

“Uhh, it absolutely does.” He scoffed, enjoying your angered state. Well, not only him. The two idols were quite fond of your reaction. “Just go, ___. Plus you need to eat.”

“I’m not a child. I can remember things like that by myself.” You rolled your eyes before crossing your hands over your chest.

“So you’ll come?” Jimin’s eyes lit up with hope. “The Hyungs don’t mind at all! I even texted them.”

Having dinner with four highly-acclaimed and handsome idols all by yourself? The offer was very intriguing, to say the least. “But wor—”

“___, Halmeoni would get mad if she saw you here and not me because she knows how much you work for your gra—”

You smacked your palm over Kenji’s mouth while you glared deadly into his pupils. You didn’t want them to know your business, despite telling your only coworker and perhaps friend—you don’t even really hang out with him outside of work—in confidence. With your eyes piercing holes into his brain, he quickly shut his mouth. “Don’t speak of it if you want those to be your last words.” He nodded, agreeing in a heartbeat before you released him.

Your coworker gasped exaggeratedly, getting a nasty shiver from you. “But ___ can go. I don’t mind working the whole dinner rush and closing up alone.”

“I don’t even have money to spend!”

“We invited you! It’s our treat!!” Jimin announced with a very lovely smile.

You sighed, still contemplating. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure! Go have fun.” Kenji reassured.

“If you text help, I’ll drop everything to come back, okay?” You told him, making sure that he was free to ask you.

Kenji shook his head, knowing how much you liked to help but never wanted it back. “Yeah, I will.”

You turned your head to spot Jungkook and Jimin being all giddy. They couldn’t believe they got you out of work so easily. They were mentally high-fiving and slapping each other’s shoulders. “Yeah, I’ll come but will it be okay? I know you’re idols and privacy and all that stuff.”

“Not to worry about that.” Jimin shooed that idea off. “Let’s go!”

You took your apron off and hung it back on the hooks. You barely grabbed your bag when Jungkook reached for your hand and tugged you to follow him out. Your irises looked back at a waving Kenji as he watched you three leave.

This was going to be an interesting experience. Maybe it’ll be good. Help you put yourself out there again after years of keeping to yourself. That was what you and Taehyung wanted after all.

Though you left, you didn’t realize that you forgot your phone inside your apron pocket.

Taehyung mindlessly stared into the lit TV screen with a random drama playing. The cascading sun began settling down for the day through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Yeontan rested on his lap while the idol stroked his coat. Not bothering to pay attention to his surroundings, he was deep into his thoughts which all resorted back to you.

He wondered how you were, probably working right now since it was close to dinner time. But he wanted to know if you were okay, with school, with work, with everyone going on right now. He understood that you practically banished him and tried to respect your wishes, but the selfish devil on his shoulder told him to fuck that and run back to you. But he reminded himself of what his therapist told him a couple of days back.

“Though it’s great for you to have her back in your life, you can’t force her to do things that you want and she doesn’t.” Dr. Im informed carefully.

“That’s not fair!” The idol whined. “I know she does, she’s just so hesitant with me after all that I did.”

“Well, think about it this way—if someone made you do things you didn’t want but they did, how would you feel? Both sides have to consent, right?”

Taehyung kept silent, knowing the right and moral answer to it. But he knew you were different. Your friendship was different compared to anyone. Simply accepting defeat and parting away from either side was wrong and cruel, making that a bad best friend in the eyes of Hyungie and Blue.

If there was one trait you and Taehyung’s relationship was always strong about was stubbornness and adamance. Your friendship stood long because neither side wouldn’t give up on the other, even if communication lacked at some points. You’d bother and irritate (mainly Taehyung) but also protect and care for one another by all means. Because you knew what was best for each other, whether you liked it or not.

If anything, he knew more about you than you did yourself and vice versa.

“Honey, I’ll be back!” The high-pitched voice sent shivers down his spine. She seemed too giddy for his liking right now. Scowling a bit before relaxing an emotionless expression, he shifted his attention towards his dolled-up girlfriend. He was about to ask where she was going, but remembered she had dinner plans with friends she hasn’t seen in a while.

“Have fun. Hope you black out for me.” He piped, but his demeanor remained.

Clara rolled her eyes, then laughed. “Will you be home alone? You haven’t been out with anyone.”

Ahh, there it was. Yes, what she said was true. After making up with her, Taehyung stayed home all day or at the company building. He hasn’t seen you, Seojoon, or any of his members despite texting. There were no in-betweens, making the growing feeling inside eat him alive.

Life sucked, but hey, his girlfriend wasn’t biting into his ass. The past two weeks Clara was soooo lovey-dovey, sweet, and happy seeing him always in the house. She would ask him if he was going out or not but knew the default answer which she would get all excited over. She spent so much more time with him in that time frame than this past year.

But Taehyung was going mental. Actually, that was the reason why he remembered where she was going because it was finally away from him.

“I’ll be fine.” He hummed, trying to go back to focusing on the TV before him, or whatever he was doing.

“I’ll miss you.” She cooed as she skipped towards the couch. From behind, she bent down to kiss him on the cheek. He scrunched his nose, keeping his hands on his sleeping dog. “Bye, I love you!”

“Me too.” He muttered. Once Clara left and closed the front door, Taehyung realized he held his breath. He felt suffocated, it wasn’t good. Like a time bomb ticking waiting to be detonated any minute, he seemed a bit more alleviated now that he was in the house alone for the night.

Yet he didn’t want to turn into that woman from the Yellow Wallpaper Namjoon talked about before. Maybe it was time to get out. He needed it, but most importantly, perhaps he needed to go to the restaurant to make up with you. He had to. It didn’t sit well with him knowing that you were away from him. He just needed some good right now and if it doesn’t happen, he’d crack.

He turned his head slightly to spot the peace lily plant he had bought for you sitting on the coffee table. It has been sitting there since that night. He took care of it in the meantime, searching online on how to maintain it.

He hoped you understood and forgave him. He didn’t comprehend why he tried to kiss you, but he’ll do anything to get you back.

“Jesus Christ, this place is top-notch.” You muttered under your breath when you observed Jimin scan his face to make the elevator function. Jungkook heard your comment, making him giggle beside you. Jimin pressed a floor button before it began to move.

“Our safety is important, especially when visitors come regularly,” Jungkook explained. “That’s why there’s security everywhere.”

“Yes, but it didn’t help that they accused me of being a sasaeng when you both were on my sides smiling.” You mentioned the unfortunate mishap. You stood there embarrassingly without any knowledge while Jimin had to report to them you were a friend. But you weren’t on their friend list, so you needed to make a pass and fingerprint scan. It took longer than anticipated, so you were slightly uncomfortable.

“Sorry about that.” Jimin blew a chuckle out of his nostrils. “Precautions, that’s all.” You hummed in response, patiently waiting for your floor.

Once you were on the fifteen floor, your trio walked out of the lift. You followed them down a hallway where you reached a spacious lounging area. It shouted out rich and expensive because the couches were built into the floors. Table tennis in the corner, unlimited stocks of water, juice, and other endorsements HYBE groups had, but what fascinated you was the spread of plants surrounding the room.

It looked like the nursery you and Taehyung went to, but of course, the plants were for aesthetics than grabs. You were in awe, scanning through them while Jimin spoke up.

“I texted the hyungs but they aren’t answering, so I’ll bother them. Be right back.” Jimin announced before separating and going down another hallway, leaving only you and Jungkook here.

While you were preoccupied staring at the greenery, Jungkook stared at you nervously. There was something he wanted to ask you but didn’t know how to or when would be the appropriate time especially since it was difficult to hang out with you. The maknae was confident in himself, but yet he was still shy at heart. But this was probably the only time he had a moment alone with you.

“___?” He called your name. Turning your attention to the youngest member of the group, your eyes grew wide in acknowledgment. “C-Can I ask you something? I promise it won’t take long.”

“Sure.” You agreed while keeping a wondering yet polite look.

“I know we only text and we don’t usually hang out but…” Jungkook began. He paused to bite his lower lip to calm himself before gazing his doe eyes onto yours. “I was wondering if we could like…go out together…alone…like a date?”

The sudden confession made you blush red like a tomato with eyes blinking rapidly to wake yourself up in case it was just a dream. But it wasn’t. Jungkook asked you out with confidence and genuineness.

You knew he had a crush on you, but you assumed it was nothing more. Kind of like his crush on IU, it was there but there was no action. Then again, you weren’t an idol. You didn’t even look like IU or even up to par with her visuals…why did he even like you?

“Why?” You wondered aloud.

Your one-word questioning shocked him yet amused him with your furrowed eyebrows and puffed pout. “What do you mean why?”

Your eyes roamed around you to avoid his staring. “Like…why? I’m nowhere near your type!”

His lips twitched upwards. “How do you know if you’re not my type?”

“Well, even though Taehyung and I parted ways before you all debuted, I still kept up with news and music.” You responded, still not meeting his eyes. When he knew you were trying to avoid his stare, he grabbed your chin. Turning to face him, you finally meet his eye contact and cocked your brow. “I-I know I’m not your type. You said it was IU, or anyone will long hair and nice thighs or something. Sorry if I come a bit rude.”

“You’re not.” He smiled, shaking his head. “And that was my type, so who knows what my type is now?”

“You. You would know.”

Jungkook squinted his eyelids at you. A bit sassy, yet you come off so blunt like it was obvious. It reminded him of someone close. “Type can also be different from attraction. But regardless of type, I’m still asking you if you’d wanna hang out. I wanna get to know you.”

Though Jungkook was a good guy, a good person actually, it would be wrong to lead him on when you were not interested in him. He was handsome, sweet, and a bit silly, but it didn’t feel right with him. You knew it wasn’t a good sign to affiliate with him or any of the other members personally.

“Jungkook, thank you for the offer but—”

“Fuck, I knew this was gonna happen.” Jungkook groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in despair, already thinking the worst.

“No, no, hear me out.” You tried your best to give the benefit of the doubt. “I-I just want to focus on my studies right now. Graduate school is a pain for a simpleton like me. Adding onto work, it’s a lot.”

“You’re not a simpleton…” He spoke softly.

You grinned sympathetically. “Either way, I don’t really want to lead you on if I’m not putting all my effort into it. I hope you understand.” It made sense, though there was more to your reasoning than what was said. But he didn’t need to know that.

Jungkook sighed, “Fortunately, and unfortunately, I do. I should have known better than to ask you since you are Taehyung Hyung’s best friend like you’re…” He scanned around cautiously to see if anyone was around. “The..B word.”

You were taken aback, so much questioning running through your mind. First of all—“The B word? You’re not thinking bitch, right?”

His pupils dilated, waving his hands in denial. “No, definitely not that! I meant your nickname!”

“Nickname?”

“Blue!” He yelled but then slapped a hand over his mouth. He acted like he said a cursed word that brought a demon around us. Still confused, you tried expressing your concern but the man beat you to it. “Sorry, we’re not supposed to call you that, that’s why.”

“It’s not some forbidden word though…” You weren’t offended, but his high alert left you baffled. Taehyung was the only one who ever called you that. Not once did anyone else tag along with it, or at least followed through. You remembered that his younger siblings tried calling you Blue and he was not happy about it.

The nickname held much meaning to you and was kept deep into your heart, even with the hurtful memories that came with it. You haven’t heard the name in a while, so your heart longed for it, yet didn’t like it, especially when it came out of the mouth of someone else. But again, Jungkook didn’t need to know that.

“Hyung gets angry with it.” Jungkook chuckled nervously, easing the awkward tension he created.

“Relax though. It’s not harmful.” You tried calming him down. He nodded and stood quietly, but you still had more questions you wanted to ask. Your heart slowly grew anxious. “But what do you mean you knew better? What does me being Taehyung’s best friend have to do with that? But also I must remind you that we aren’t be—”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, but it’s okay. I still want to get to know you better. I wanna be your friend at least!” The youngest member shrugged, shifting the topic.

He just blew you off like that, but it was whatever. A weird conversation…but you too wanted it to be over.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You agreed slowly. Jungkook gave you two thumbs up and a loving bunny smile. You then heard a group of footsteps progressively getting louder, so you turned your head to see Jimin, Namjoon, and Hoseok coming back. You praised the heavens after that.

So much going on, very little knowledge…

“What do you mean she’s not here?” Taehyung questioned a sitting Kenji who was finished with his remaining customers leaving. The restaurant was still open, but no one but the idol was there for dinner.

Halmeoni then came out from the kitchen and noticed the handsome idol right away. “Oh, Taehyung! You’re back. How are you?”

He looked at the elderly woman and forced a smile and bow at her. “Hello, Halmeoni. I-I’m fine, but Kenji said ___ isn’t here.”

She hummed in response, “Yeah, she’s not here! Kenji convinced her to take the night off. She needed it.”

“Do you know where she is? Is she at home?”

“She’s actually having dinner…with some guys,” Kenji smirked playfully because he saw Taehyung’s eyes bulged out and jaw unhinged.

“What?” The idol yelled a little too loud, making the younger man giggle.

“Finally, she’s hanging out with people!” Halmeoni cheered.

Knowing how much stress and concern the idol was in, Kenji decided to alleviate it. “Relax, it’s your bandmates.” He informed explicitly to get it into Taehyung’s head. “Jungkook Hyung and Jimin Hyung came to visit and asked her out for dinner. Taehyung nodded, also recalling that Jimin was also back from his trip. “Seems like you weren’t invited if you didn’t know?” That brought a scowl towards the younger man, but he couldn’t care less as he kept a smile on his face.

His expression relaxed as the words sunk in. Though it probably was a simple and casual dinner, Taehyung felt insulted and sad. You’ve been away from him for a while and said that you never wanted to see him again. Yet Jungkook and Jimin had the privilege of hanging out with you.

He was hurt, not at you. The entire situation. He hated where everything was going and what changes are happening. It wasn’t fair for him and his feelings. But this was all his fault, right? His doings led to this, so he had to deal with it, right?

He hated it, he hated himself even more. Nothing really was going his way and he had to suck it up so he couldn’t be selfish? Let others be happy and enjoy one another while he sulked and self-deprecated alone by himself. So much for improvement, right Dr. Im?

With that being said, he bolted out of the restaurant in a scurry, leaving Halmeoni and Kenji baffled and wondering what just happened. Now he needed to get away. He wanted to be alone right now. There were so many things that he couldn’t do and have. Well, enough was enough.

He needed an escape fast.

“Cheers!” The sounds of the glass filled clashing together echoed through the private dining room. You smiled and nodded as the boys cheered rowdily at the simple gesture. All of you then took a gulp or sip of the foamed beer that caused you to make a repulsive face with your nose scrunched.

“Don’t like beer?” Sitting next to you, Jimin laughed as he saw your expression.

“Uhh, yeah but it’s fine.” You smiled through the gross bitter aftertaste. “Don’t really like drinking as much.”

“But when you do, what kind do you like? We can order some.” Namjoon, who sat on the other side of you, asked with a friendly dimpled smile.

“I usually just go for wine or any flavored soju. Soda is nice too.” You answered while forcing yourself to drink the beer, making a soured face.

Hoseok, who sat across from you, laughed as he pulled the drink away from you. You grew big-eyed like someone stole your candy. You reminded him of someone and it was so adorable. “You don’t need to force yourself. We’ll get you those.” You muttered a thank you. Before you could even put a vegetable in your mouth, Hoseok wondered, “So how are you? We haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Oh, I’m fine, thank you. Just work and school has been my life right now.” You quickly threw slices of pork belly into your mouth and chewed while thinking of anything else to say. “I’m not doing anything big like you all.”

“___, please. Though our lives are different from yours, we still equate and emphasize the importance of what and why others do.” Namjoon argued as he watched you eat. You stuffed your face and pouted when you did so. It looked so familiar…

“Well, yes. I agree with you.” You shrugged, gulping down the food. “But really, life is…alright.” You hoped they won’t ask because it would be an opening of a dam you didn’t want to let out.

“Feel free to hit us up though!” Hoseok offered, making you relax. “We loved spending time with you at the party! I especially love meeting and getting to know new people.”

“O-Oh, thank you. Just me?” You chuckled politely. You also couldn’t help but be in an intimate atmosphere with your bias.

“Yeah? And the other members too if they want. We all like you.” Jungkook mentioned as he kept grabbing more food off the plates.

Okay, you weren’t expecting this at all. Usually, especially with friends of Taehyung, would only put up with you because of him. They wanted him, not you but you were a package deal. So it was surprising to know they wanted to be friends with you. Perhaps this was what Taehyung meant when they were different than his past “friends.”

“Thank you.” You thanked them, smiling shyly and looking down at the dishes of food.

“You don’t have to be so formal with us.” Jimin giggled as he poured the bottle of wine given in a new glass for you. “You’re acting like it’s your first time making friends.”

“Technically, yes. I’m practically a loner.” You pursed your lips as you looked up to meet all their perplexed yet concerned stares. Obviously, it was true but you made it into a joke, but they didn’t know so you shook your head. “I mean yes, that’s true. But…it’s fine.” You laughed awkwardly, but they continued their gazes, causing you to stop. “I don’t really have many friends.”

“Like…at all?”

You pondered on the thought, trying your best to think of some people. “I guess, there’s my coworker. But we just talk at work most of the time. Oh, and his grandparents!”

“H-How about in Geochang?” Hoseok inquired with a smile. “Taehyungie said he had a lot of friends there! Since you were his best friend, we assumed that they were yours too!”

“They were still his friends. I only was there for Taehyung when he would spend time with them. For the most part, those friends didn’t want me there.” You responded. “His sister was my age. She was my friend, but I barely contacted her after her family moved out. All of them actually…”

Okay, maybe you made this dinner more depressing than it should have, judging by their empathetic faces. Your eyes bounced off of them as you let out a laugh. “I mean now you’re all my friends, right? It doesn’t matter anymore.” You balled your hands in fists and waved them in the air, getting all excited out of nowhere.

Assuming what you were trying to do, Namjoon joined in your laughter to die down the awkwardness. “Yes, we’re friends. Don’t worry, we want to spend time with you too, whether Taehyung’s here or not.”

“Hyung’s right!” Jungkook agreed. “We should be able to hang out with you, even call or text.”

“I guess so, sure.” You said. “Again, I work and go to school. It’s my priority. I’m here in Seoul for that reason.”

“Of course, we respect it.” Jimin nodded reassuringly. “But don’t exert yourself too much. Wouldn’t want to repeat the hospital thing Taehyung told us about?”

With the mention of his name, you were curious if they knew how he was. But you refrained from doing so. For some reason, you didn’t want to ask them. They probably would have meant well, but your gut feeling begged to differ. After all, this was your first time alone with them so you simply nodded. Maybe one day you’ll ask Taehyung about it.

“By the way, let’s get your phone number or username, whichever you prefer.” Hoseok pulled his phone out of his pants pocket.

You accepted and were about to get your phone out of your bag, only to notice it wasn’t there. You checked through the pockets and doubled into the bigger space, but came up empty-handed. You realized you must have left it back at work. “I forgot my phone at work. Can you please bring me back there?”

“Sure, but after dinner, of course,” Jungkook answered before placing meat wraps on your plate. You raised a brow at him, to which he winked cheekily. You scoffed before taking a bite of it.

“___, if you’re not busy on Saturday, I was hoping you could tag along with me to this trendy cafe. I was supposed to go with my sister, but she had a last-minute thing. They have this amazing mango dessert and iced Americano.” Hoseok invited, making you blush. You were experiencing too much with your favorite of the group, but you didn’t want to show how flustered you were.

“I’d love to actually. Weekends are my day offs.”

“Wait, I wanna come too!” Jungkook pouted, not giving up on getting closer to you. “You talked about the place before and it sounded good.”

You shrugged, not minding at all. “Sure, but I hope iced Americanos aren’t the only drinks they serve. I don’t like coffee.”

“They have a lot more drinks like this coconut refresh—” Hoseok couldn’t even finish his sentence when you grimaced at the words. But he merely laughed at your displease. “Not a big fan of coconut?”

“I get queasy from the smell and taste.” Just by imagining it, you swore you could smell the scent, giving you shivers down your spine.

“You’re so much like Taehyung…” Namjoon mumbled, but the rest of you heard him speak. Jimin asked him to reiterate what he said. “I said, you’re so much like Taehyung.”

You blinked at the leader as you straighten your back. You weren’t expecting that either. “Wh—How?”

“You make faces when you don’t like something, you don’t drink coffee, you shake your fists in the air like him, and you pout when you chew.” Namjoon listed his observations, which not only freaked you out but the others. “S-Sorry, I was just looking and thinking. I’m sorry if I disrespected you.”

You shook your head and waved him off. “No, you didn’t. Uhhh…I didn’t think people would notice enough.” After many years and some months reuniting with Taehyung, you realized how many of each other’s habits you took after even to this day. It wasn’t a bad thing but showed how much you influenced and impacted one another.

“I thought I was the only one…” Jimin chimed in as well. “You’ve been doing these small things, like him. Weird…”

“But it’s kinda cute.” Hoseok hummed. “Maybe a best friend thing?”

A soft grin appeared on your face, reflecting on what he said. You weren’t insulted, you didn’t deny, maybe he was right. Maybe Taehyung was still somehow your best friend. “Maybe.”

The clear liquor burned down his throat as he chugged the green bottle in one go. Once it was empty, he threw it to the side of him. The other finished bottles crashed together on the cold concrete ground in the corner of the alleyway.

Taehyung wiped off the excess leaking on the side of his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes roamed around the dark cold night. Blurred blobs of people passed through his hazed vision. None bothered to take a glimpse of a drunken man sitting on trash and dirt. Not even the police were supposed to patrol the area because they didn’t bother to care enough for a place that was deemed sketchy, and probably illegal. Not their business at all.

At some point, the soju and cognac naturally became water to the idol and made him feel something the past two weeks couldn’t do. He cracked, going with the “alcohol can make it better” route he hasn’t done so for a while. He did contemplate his… other methods, but he couldn’t get it right away so this was probably the most convenient way.

He laughed to himself, in a pitied and disappointed way. If his past self saw him like this, the idol he “wanted to be,” he knew the younger him would want to punch present him in the throat for deciding to throw his life away. Because despite being one of the most renowned idols in the world, what the fuck was going on with him inside? He couldn’t help himself with all that was happening to him and the spotlight of V. In the morning, he read articles about death threats and dating scandals with another Blackpink member. Can reporters at least be creative with their fake news? He didn’t like the implied coverage of him running through the group.

He didn’t want to let it get to him, but as a human, it was hard not to. When things spread, it got frightening for him because he knew some of it wasn’t true. He couldn’t have issues that he could keep to himself. A handful of people always had to know, oftentimes before him too.

All these words made him feel discouraged and pressured but hid all his emotions and feelings away to not make anything worsen. Not let those online who read too much into his behavior speculate and spread rumors. But also not let those around him talk down upon him when he suppressed his happiness for theirs.

He fucking hated this. He was feeling too much and there was nothing he could do. He felt it all inside his chest, waiting for it to explode. He didn’t want to cry anymore, he did that within the first hour of drinking. He has been in the same spot for at least three hours. It was probably close to midnight but couldn’t give a single fuck.

He stared at his last unopened bottle, it was Yakult flavored. He never tried it before, only saw them on the shelves. But he couldn’t resist it because it somehow reminded him of you. You used to love Yakult, drinking it at least once a day. It was also because Taehyung gave you one every day to satisfy you.

The alcoholic taste was gone in his taste buds, so he assumed that it tasted like juice. Shrugging, he uncapped the bottle and lipped, gulping in a hefty amount in his mouth.

“Look at that man. Some worthless piece of shit.” Taehyung’s ears twitched at the voice. Turning his head to the sound, he spotted three men staring down at him in disgust. Examining the trio swaying and trying their best to keep still, they were tipsy. Despite being a famous individual, they don’t seem to realize it as their intoxicated minds overpowered their vision.

But Taehyung wasn’t about to ignore another stranger blatantly insulting him. Though with half of his mind only functioning, he lets more of his guard and restrains down. He became more reckless, and messier, and doesn’t give a fuck about consequences. His pride was the center of the cause and he was not about to let a low life say shit to him.

Using his palms, he pushed himself from the ground to stand tall. Well, unsteady but he supported himself with the building wall. He glared at the trio who seemed about the same size as him. At a glance, they looked much older but couldn’t see clearly with their bangs covering their eyes. “Dude, fuck off. You’re one to talk with your five-millimeter dick.” Taehyung slurred.

“The fuck did you say, you bastard?” The center, we’ll call him the leader, a person garbled back as he stepped forward.

“Say it to his face.” The one on the left acted all tough.

“I did. You’re just so stupid, you can’t understand anything any human being says.” The idol snapped back and then glanced over at the other one.

“Acting all brave when you’re a skinny guy.” The one on the right finally came up and slightly pushed Taehyung but he was able to keep his balance.

“Pft, acting all that when you can’t even reach the cupboards above.” Taehyung spat back before hiccuping. “Now leave me alone. I minded my own business and you three shitheads should too.”

“Fuck that, you’re gonna get down on your knees and apologize for what you fucking did.” The leader butted in, getting more riled up than before.

“I didn’t do shit. I’m not apologizing.” The idol shook his head.

“We’ll get it out of you.” The leader came forth and was about to punch Taehyung in the face. But Taehyung threw a jab on the leader’s cheek. The guy fell back on his butt on the ground, caressing his pained cheek. “Ahh, you fucker! You’re gonna get this!”

Then all of sudden, the other two helped his friend by attacking the lonesome idol. But little did they know, Taehyung has had experience with situations like this.

It was the day of the talent show and Taehyung was fearfully worried. He has been practicing day and night and right after school whilst dragging you along with him. You stayed up with him the night before to help him with pronunciation, support, and anything he needed.

This was his first time singing in front of an audience and you were so excited for him. You knew he was going to do well. He always had a beautiful singing voice. It was so worthy enough for him to be an artist, an idol, anything to do with his talent. But you also knew how nervous he was. You had to hold him and run your fingers through his hair last night to calm him down. You cheered him on, praised him, and gave him pep talks, but yet his unconscious thinking dragged him down.

An hour before the talent, his family did quick errands and bought flowers to congratulate Taehyung, leaving you alone with him at his house. You both were dressed up and ready. Him in black dress pants and an ivory buttoned-down shirt while you were in a sage-green dress. Your best friend wanted to do last-minute rehearsals before you left for school.

You clapped proudly as you sat on his bed, watching him finish the song at the end of it. You bounced off and flattened your skirt. “Hyungie, that was amazing. I’m so excited!”

“I felt like I was off-key at the end.” He frowned, criticizing his perfect practice. “Let me do it ag—”

“Taehyung, you did great. There’s no need to practice again. You’ve been practicing so much, you’re gonna hurt your vocal cords.”

“Blue, I know but—”

“No buts.” You squeezed his shoulder as a sign of comfort. “Sit down and rest a little before we leave. I’ll make some tea for you.” He nodded and sat down on his desk chair.

Once you left his room, his thoughts occupied him. He knew how agitated he was. It was because he wanted to do well. He wanted to perform and showcase his talent to not only you but his family, friends, heck, everyone in the school. Sure, there was no winning or losing, but the pride was still there to brag about how well you did.

But this was really for him to prove himself. Though having many other talents, he wanted to think that he was a good enough singer. He enjoyed singing, perhaps even using it to make a career as an idol. But that sounded too far-fetched.

It was the self-confidence he lacked drastically. He couldn’t help but think lowly and envisioned embarrassing himself in front of everyone, giving them and him no hope in his singing. You told him otherwise, and it did help him throughout the weeks before the talent show. But now being on less than an hour before the talent show, every bit of assurance flew out the window and now the negative notions began shining.

Was there even hope for him? How much does he believe to actually go through with this? Maybe he can drop out last minute? He doesn’t think the amount of work and effort he did was enough. Will he disappoint you? His family? The entire school? Himself? He was going to do a shitty job, he just knew.

His hands suddenly became clammy, opening and closing his trembling fists. His breathing felt like it dropped, making him feel choked up and find it difficult to even inhale. The beating of his heart increased rapidly, unable to catch up with it. He winced as the pressure worsened. He got out of his seat hastily, pacing around his room.

He couldn’t process everything clearly, he was getting antsy and afraid by the second. His uncontrollable eyes moved around his surroundings as he felt his tear ducts swell up from the overwhelming state of his body. It was happening again, but this was the worst one yet.

He tried those breathing exercises you taught him to do. “D-Deep breaths. Deep breaths.” He respired quiveringly, but after a few attempts, it didn’t feel like it was working. “Come on, Taehyung. Breathe.” He lets out an alarmed sob. It wasn’t getting better, and he couldn’t come up with anything else.

Unknowing of his episode, you entered calmly into his room with a fresh cup of tea for him. Once you closed the door behind you, you turned around. “Taehyung, I got yo—” You spotted him all frazzled, wheezing, and weeping. He walked all over his room, feeling out of control.

“Bl-Blue!” He wept, going towards you. “I-I’m scared. Pl-Pl-Please.” He grabbed your unoccupied hand into his quaking ones.

You placed the cup down on his table, so your hands were fully occupied with his. “Hyungie, let’s do the deep breaths. You got this. You remember those, right?” Your voice balanced, and relaxed as possible.

He shook his head and cried, “I tried it. It doesn’t work.” He began heaving heavily. You rushed him to sit down on his bed and you followed for support.

You had to think fast about what other things you could do. If deep breathings weren’t enough there has to be something else that can help. Questions? You didn’t have anything cold. Closing your eyes. Maybe distractions?

“Hey, Hyungie. Look at me. Focus on me.” You squeezed his hands. His moving eyes hurriedly gazed at you. “Remember that one song we learned. I love that song and its lyrics.”

He shook his head again. “Wh-What does that have to do with anything?”

“Do you remember it?” You ignored his questioning. “How ‘bout singing me them, come on? I’ll sing with you too.”

“Blue? I ca—”

“Come on. Just you and me, Hyungie.” You encouraged his panicked state.

“Are you sure you want us to leave you from here?” Jimin asked through the rolled-down passenger window. As promised, they took you back to the restaurant. They were willing to wait for you so that they could drop you off at home but you denied. You didn’t want them to know where you lived because it was in a bad area, and they probably had a busy day tomorrow. You didn’t want to bother them for too long.

“Oh, I’m sure!” You promised, shouldering your bag. “I live pretty close to here anyway.” Technically, you needed to ride the bus but that wasn’t anything you didn’t do before.

“Yah, why is this in a scary area?” Hoseok was in the backseat, looking around the area through the tinted window.

“Ahh, it’s not scary. Trust me. I’ve always left here around this time.” You reassured, trying to ease their worries. “I just don’t go down the road we drove through.”

“Yeah, we should take another route,” Namjoon suggested from the backseat, scrolling through his phone. “I think I saw a drug exchange and it’s not sitting right with me. I feel like an accomplice.”

“___, are you really sure?” Jungkook asked once more, ducking down from the driver’s seat to look at you.

“I’m perfectly fine, I promise.” You smiled. “Thank you for dinner and paying. I appreciate it. Jungkook, send my number to everyone.” Jungkook clicked his tongue and threw a finger gun at you.

“Anytime, ___. We’re grateful to have spent time with you.” Jimin chirped happily.

“Call or text us any time!”

“I guess, I’ll get going inside so bye!” You waved your goodbye. They said theirs back and watched you go into the restaurant before they drove off.

Once you flung the tarp open, Kenji was about to yell that they were closed until he saw you again. “Oh, why are you back?”

“I forgot my phone in my apron.” You sighed as you headed towards the hooks. “You know when I was manhandled out of the place.” Your coworker laughed as he started putting up the chairs. You dug into your apron pocket and finally retrieved your phone.

Through your Lock Screen, you noticed many messages and calls. The most recent ones were from Jungkook and unknown numbers, which were probably the other boys. Some messages were from Kenji, but they were irrelevant since most of them were memes. But what intrigued you the most was that there were twelve missed calls and messages from Taehyung. The messages consisted of where you were, how are you, please tell him if you were okay, and other concerns he had.

These were the first contacts from him in a while, telling you that he never bothered giving up. Your lips curled slightly at the thought before you put your device into your pocket. “I guess I’ll get going again. Thanks for covering my shifts.” You announced.

“No need to thank me. It wasn’t bad.” Kenji shrugged. You were about to take your leave before he called for you. “By the way, Taehyung Hyung came to the restaurant and asked about you.”

You stopped your track, diverting your head to your coworker. “H-he came?”

Kenji crooned in response. “Yeah, it was a little while after you left. I just told him you were casually out with his members.” Though it was casual, you spectated that Taehyung could have possibly thought worse of it, especially since you two still weren’t on talking terms yet.

“Do you know where he went?” You gulped, growing concerned.

“No, he didn’t say. Just dipped out.” Your coworker informed. “He was probably pissed that he wasn’t invited.“ Maybe, or maybe even more.

You nodded again before saying your goodbyes. Once he said goodnight, you were out of the restaurant with your phone back in your hands as you wondered where Taehyung was. He may have gone back home, but you weren’t so sure. You could text any of the boys if they knew, but you weren’t so sure if they did since they were with you the entire time. They also mentioned the rest of the members were busy. But now you were questioning how busy Taehyung was if he managed to come here for you.

Calling him should be okay since he texted you back. It should be okay to do so. It would also mean that you were good with him again. As you began your way to the bus stop, you pressed on his contact to call. But after long-awaited rings, it went straight to voicemail. So you called again, but again with the voicemail. Deja vu…

Shaking your head at that thought, you left a voicemail. “Hey, Taehyung. I saw your calls and text. Sorry, I couldn’t answer right away. I left my phone back in the restaurant. I also found out you stopped by. Call me when you received my message…” You were feeling alarmed for an odd reason. “Stay safe, okay?” You ended the voicemail and threw your phone back into your bag.

You couldn’t understand the tingling sensation inside of you. It left you uncomfortable, almost like something was wrong but there was nothing to be concerned about. Your night was restful and enjoyable. The members were indeed affable and kind towards you. Though you were a bit shy with your responses, they knew how to ease you in. They knew how to make people comfortable; you admired that trait of theirs.

While you were walking quietly, you then heard thumps and grunts at a distance. It didn’t stop your feet though, you clutched onto your bag as you pushed yourself to get through. It could be a couple doing public indecency, a burglar, or maybe even a murder. Usually common in areas like this.

But the one thing you had to remember was to protect yourself, so you weren’t about to get into other people’s business and suffer. Unless it was an innocent bystander, you carried pepper spray with you at all times.

The volume of the noises increased as you continued your way. It was until you reached an alleyway that you noticed four figures over each other. It seemed like a fight, but in addition to the emptied bottles you found through your scrutiny, it was a drunken fight.

Because of that, it was not your business, and was about to leave the premises when you heard a shout. “Fuck off!” That voice…was familiar. But senses could deceive you, so you were battling your curiosity with your rationale. You were alone, with nothing but pepper spray and your hands as self-defense, but still, it wasn’t enough if it would be four against one.

Yet if you left, you’d have some sort of guilt if it was someone you knew. But then again, who would it even be? Kenji? He was still at the restaurant. There wouldn’t be anyone you knew, unless—

The sound of glass shattering broke through your mind. You sneakingly stepped forth at the end of the alleyway. You hid behind trashed boxes, observing the people fighting. The streetlights were dimmed and blinking. You were able to see faces and silhouettes, but they were still a bit unclear.

You squinted your eyes. A man held a broken bottle while two stood in front of him. One was on the ground possibly passed out. But you noticed liquid near his head, and it didn’t look like a good sign.

“You fucking killed him!” One of them shouted at the man holding the glass.

“No, I didn’t!” That very man screamed, and it sounded very distinct.

“Yes, you did. You murdered my friend!” Another yelled back.

“No, I didn’t!” The man repeated, voicing out through a sob. Then the two figures attacked him, coming from his sides. They threw punches, kicks, and blows at his body but the man was still standing strong, being able to take both of them. “I’m not a murderer!” He grunted as his back slammed on the concrete wall, throwing down the broken glass.

Through that angle, you were given a vivid image of him. Once you saw it, you swore your heart dropped.

A teary-eyed Taehyung swung his arms and aimed at their face and kicked their chest. One fell back and groaned while the other held his stomach. “I’m not a murderer! You’re hurting me! You’re hurting me!” The vein on his neck was prominent and straining as he kept shouting. He kicked the man on the ground in the chest while he kneed the other in the stomach again.

The two were on the ground, groaning in pain and moving weakly. Taehyung panted, looking down at them. You watched him lean on the wall for support before he covered his face with his palms. You heard soft crying coming out of his mouth, twisting your heart in ache. How did he even get here? How did this happen?

Your thoughts remained, but they were immediately pushed back when you scrutinized him more. His body was notably shaking, even at the distance you were in. He jerked his hands in the air as if it would alleviate him. You could hear his harsh wheezing densely as he began circling the three men on the ground.

It was as if your body was on high alert because you felt yourself running toward him. You curved and jumped over the men to get to him. He then felt another figure coming towards him and was about to get defensive again until he found your eyes, eyes that knew how to calm him down.

“Bl-Blue.” His voice cracked through his heaves, stepping away from you. His eyes went out of control as he looked over at the unconscious men, making him realize you saw him like this. Saw him in a way you have never seen him before.

He feared the worst.

Then all the fears from within traveled from his stomach to out of his mouth, retching all the liquids he consumed on the concrete. You shifted away from the vomit. His throat burned furiously as he gagged the intoxication and dizziness out. Tears pearled down his face and his nose reddened by the forced action.

As he somehow managed to finish, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. But his hyperventilation intensified as he whined at the piercing pain within his chest. Holding where his heart was, he folded down. Before he could crash down, you hooked an arm under his form and guided him away from the scene. Your steps were wider and brisk until you stopped at the corner that had boxes stacked enough for him to not look at what happened.

You helped him stand steadily with cautious hands on his shoulders. “___, I-I-can’t breathe.” He squeaked, his body convulsing under your touch. Despite the signs of a panic attack, when he was in this state, he always needed a loved one’s touch.

“I’m sorry. Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay. We’ll get through this. Let’s do deep breaths.” You shushed him. You led some exercises you recalled from your memories. Inhale, 2, 3, 4. Hold, 2, 3, 4. Exhale, 2, 3, 4. Hold, 2, 3, 4. But it wasn’t working as he shook his head, the breathing was still weighted and tears slipping out of his puffed eyes.

You focused on him, being as peaceful as possible. It wouldn’t help the situation if you were the opposite. You had to think fast, attempting to recollect past things you’ve done. But it was such a long time ago; it was challenging you. You didn’t think he still had them after he overcame his stage fright, but this was probably for a different reason and his coping stayed constant.

But the pleading eyes of Taehyung ached you, wanting nothing more but to help him be free from his episode. You didn’t have anything you used to help him.

Then your eyes lit up at a method, one that worked every time.

“Tae—Taehyung, focus on me. Your eyes on me, okay? Can I hold your hands?” His tensed eyes landed on your solaced ones. He nodded before your hands made their way down until you grasped onto his hands tightly. The feeling of your touch soothed his fragile condition. “Do you remember that one song we learned when we were in middle school?”

“A-A song?” His lips trembled in fear.

“Yeah, let’s focus on that because I forgot how much I loved it! Do you remember it?” You smiled joyfully, scrunching your nose.

“D-Do you…mean…” He gasped as the pain pinched his heart, causing him to fall forward. But you kept his support, carrying some of his weight through your arms. You motioned him to sit down on one of the boxes. While he did so, you bent down on your knees to meet his eye level.

“I’ll start it, okay?” You told him and he couldn’t get a word out but he kept his gaze and nodded. “Okay.” You let go of one of his hands so you could snap your fingers to the beat in your mind, doing a little shoulder dance and sounding soft tickings as the introduction. You were trying to ease him away from tension.

“L is for the way you look at me,” You sang merrily as you looked at him. “Your turn.”

“O-O...is for…the only…one…I see,” He sang slower while you silently mouthed the lyrics for him to follow, but his breathing control got better. You nodded as your smile grew wider.

“You’re doing so well,” You praised. “V is very, very extraordinary,” You pointed at him and tried your best with that high note where you found his lips curling.

“E-E is even more than anyone that you adore,” He stayed on tempo, but still shaky. Yet you were so proud. He inhaled deeply and exhaled.

“All together!” You expressed. His trembling hands came back to your calming ones before you decided to lace your fingers together. You swayed your intertwined hands side to side with the unheard beat when the two of you chorused, “Can love is all that I can give to you. Love is more than just a game for two.”

“Two in love can make it,” You vocalized, while you saw his eyes weeping out more tears. You let go of him. Your thumbs reached out to wipe them off his face but kept your palms on his cheeks.

“Take my heart, and please don't break it.” Though he sang perfectly, his voice cracked with his bawling. He wrapped his hands around your wrists, holding you in place.

“Love was made for me and you,” You sang together and you motioned one more time for the ending. “Love was made...for me…and you.” You both held out the last note, but it was slightly off from Taehyung’s cries. But it was all okay because you saw that he felt a lot better and his breathing became stabilized once again.

Only the noises of his sniffing and breathing rang through your ears as your glassy eyes stayed on him, waiting for his green light. But unexpectedly, he slithered his arms around your waist and pulled you into his lap. He kept his grip tight as he buried his face into your chest.

Your body hardened, but then felt the familiar warmth he gave out like when you were younger. Not wanting to reject him after his episode, you let it be and circled your arms around his torso. When he realized you didn’t push him away, he cried in relief. The wetness of his tears drenched your shirt, but you didn’t bother to care. You rubbed his back and rocked yourselves while humming a random tone.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Blue.” He chanted into your skin, having light hiccups in between.

“You’re fine, Hyungie. You’re good, you did so well. No more fears right now.” You hushed as his weeping remained.

You took it all in, never having any doubts at this moment. All you wanted right now was to make all his troubles go away. It was hard, but it wasn’t impossible. And you would do them in a heartbeat because now you took the first step of having him back in your life.

Accepting him. All of him.

Tagged: @manuosorioh @kaal-ee @stfxthv @dahliasbouqet @bertqut1 @fuckthinking @taebangtanbabe @tan-veee

#matcha masterlist #taehyung x reader #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfiction #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts x reader

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missmaywemeetagain · 1 year

Note

Sister, my darlin’ Madi! 💗

So, I already told you that I will be in your inbox, right? I’m requesting a fic for Post Army!E. Uh oh…

What do you think you could do with this picture?

I was thinking maybe a little romance, a little smut action, a little exhibitionism kink (cause come on, we all know Elvis likes to watch his conquests), maybe a little bit of spanking. I don’t know, but it sounds a bit better in my head when I thought about it 😂 Feel free to do whatever you please with it. If you can’t stray away from angst, I welcome it.

-Daisy (@powerofelvis)

Ah, my darlin' darlin' baby! My first ever request and it seems entirely fitting that it's for you, my biggest cheerleader!! 💗 @powerofelvis

I hope I did your request justice--I maybe went in a little different direction (I couldn't manage the spanking for this one, sorry!) and I'm also apparently incapable of writing anything less than 4k, so here's your 5.7k monstrosity of smuttasticness! Love you, baby, and I hope you enjoy! 🥰

This is filthy, so Minors, DNI!! 18+

This is part of Madi's Get to Know Me Gala 💗. Requests/asks are still open for the time being!

So, here it is, my first Request: Snap

You pride yourself on being one of the top photographers in the field, especially when, just like so many other careers, it is dominated by men who think they know better and do better solely because of the dangling appendage between their legs. Luckily, your boss has a progressive outlook and sees your talent for what it is.

The thing is, you are able to get something different from your celebrity subjects and he knows it. The women feel more comfortable with you because they know you aren’t trying to get in their pants, and the men either soften or want to impress you to do just that. And you seem to have a naturally honed ability to figure out quickly what they want and need and are able to play to that to get the best shots.

It’s a win-win most of the time.

Luckily, you don’t tend to get starstruck easily, perhaps because you see behind the curtain of the business. Not to say you didn’t get some butterflies around Paul Newman or feel a sense of awe around Grace Kelly. But overall, the glitz and glamor doesn’t affect you much.

You are a little surprised, however, that your next assignment is the one and only Elvis Presley, fresh from his image-changing stint in the Army. And you sense that the change of image is going to be the challenge on this shoot because remaking a man who the public already has a solid image of through a measly photograph is easier said than done. You have little doubt, based on your research and what you’ve seen so far from his pretty army discharge pictures, that his rebellious streak is now over. But who he is now and who he wants to be going forward likely looks very different from the hip greaser image burned in your head from the 50s.

That and the fact that you’re traveling on a train with him as he heads off to his next big film in LA is throwing you a little for a loop. But you are nothing if not adaptable.

There are more than abundant rumors of Presley’s love for the ladies, which is how you think you find yourself the only photographer who is asked to join him on the train on his journey. The other male photographers had clamored their way past you, fighting for shots at the train station, both outside the train and in it, before it was set to leave. You hung back, taking a few pictures here and there, but mostly smirking to yourself at the desperation to get the man’s attention.

It surprises you a little how pleasant Presley is, how accommodating. He’s nothing but a polite Southern gentleman, giving everyone their piece of him graciously. And the interactions with the fans are nothing less than remarkable based on your experience with other celebrities, and you chronicle that with your camera. There is a presence about him, an essence, that you’ve never quite encountered before with the way he commands the space he is in, demanding attention without ever actually saying a word, without requiring it. But you are finding it a little difficult to get a true read on him with so many people around.

You sense there are many other sides to him, but it’s not until you are almost alone with him and the train starts moving that you are able to discern what they might be. When you are finally introduced properly and are up close to the man, you cannot deny that your heart flutters and you shiver a little at the open way his brilliant sapphire eyes take you in from head to toe.

“Well, hello there, honey,” he drawls, the words warm and dripping into your stomach as his hand clasps yours. “You must be our resident photographer.”

You hate the way his gaze and his touch disorient you. You’ve been around dozens of charming, handsome men, but this man is on another level altogether. He’s more than just a chiseled jaw and high cheekbones and stunning blue eyes. No, there is a magic about him that draws you in, throwing you off your game and threatening to melt you into an embarrassing puddle.

It’s more than a little infuriating.

You manage to snap out of it, clearing your throat and introducing yourself firmly, professionally, putting on your best celebrities-don’t-rattle-me affect. But the damage is done because you can see the glint of amusement in his eyes and the tiniest smirk play at those famous full lips.

You watch him relax with his friends, joking and messing about. Keeping a healthy distance, you get some shots that will likely never see the light of day but help you gauge the lighting and get a feel for him. When not around the onslaught of reporters, he seems filled with an almost adolescent penchant for horsing around, which seems interesting for a man of 25 fresh out of the Army who presents now as keen and intelligent enough despite the Southern accent that the snobs in LA and New York want to look down their noses at him for.

Suddenly, as if commanded silently, the others disperse into the different private cars reserved for him and his people, leaving the two of you alone. After a moment, those deep eyes of his find you, and he beckons you down the train car towards him in a come hither motion and the raise of an eyebrow.

That is when you realize what Elvis needs for you to get your shots. The man wants to play. A little tete è tete is in order, perhaps.

Easy enough, you think as you sit diagonally to him in the bank of seats across from him. You’ve played similar games before with other handsome men. Nothing tawdry, but a little flirtation never hurt anyone. Though with the way his eyes darken and his posture changes ever so slightly, for the first time ever, you think you might be a little out of your depth.

Regardless, you force yourself to maintain an air nonchalance. You hold up your camera. “May I?”

He nods, a smile playing at his lips. You’ve known some of the biggest stars to be uncomfortable under the gaze of a lens in their more private moments, but Presley seems to have no qualms whatsoever. And as you snap a few casual shots up close, it becomes crystal clear that the camera loves him. Every angle just works. He has no “bad side.” It’s almost exhilarating for someone like you who seeks to capture the truth in these moments to have the challenge of a man who was born to be in front of a camera as your subject.

Somehow, he’s both childlike and suave all at once. Innocent and sultry. Feminine and masculine. And he’s got the longest eyelashes you’ve ever seen on a man.

Elvis lets out a long whistle. “You sure are the prettiest photographer I’ve ever seen.”

Your eyebrow raises and you are thankful that your camera conceals the slight blush on your cheeks, despite knowing this is likely just a line to placate you.

“Is that so?” you respond evenly.

“Mhm. Sure is a nice change from the usual group of stuffy men up in my business, I’ll tell you for sure. Much rather have you up in my…” he trails off, then winks.

“I’m not sure you could handle a woman like me, Mr. Presley.” It’s a challenge and a risk, to be sure, taking this way to a man of such stature, but you put just a bit of playfulness in your voice to temper the slice.

He pauses, considering you in a different way, then mimics your own words back to you: “Is that so?”

Snap.

The photo you capture then is one you know has that edginess, that something else you are looking for.

There’s a sense of tension in his posture now, only recognizable to you because not a second so he was the picture of confident relaxation. But you’ve caught him out—that famous lip of his curling as he throws your words back at you, his almond eyes narrowing suspiciously but full of a feline sexual energy. While his right arm appears casual on the armrest, his long and slender pointer finger goes rigid, a suggestive gesture to be sure.

He’s playful about it but in such a way as a jungle cat seeks to play with its food before devouring it.

Heat courses through your limbs and pools low in your belly, a purely biological response to this amazing specimen of a man and the way he’s looking at you.

You manage to find your voice. “Quite so, I’m afraid,” you say with a flirty, faux sorrow.

“We’ll see,” he hums, then slides over the seat until right across from you. In a bold move you don’t see coming, Elvis nudges his toe under your skirt and in between your properly clasped knees, spreading your legs apart until his foot rests possessively through your thighs on the seat underneath you.

“You’re one cocky sonnuvabitch, aren’t ya?” you muse, finally bringing your camera down to look him in the eyes. You are hyper aware of the way his toe inches up, closer to the heat that now begins to pulse between your legs.

”Gonna have to wash your mouth out if ya keep talkin’ like that,” he purrs.

Snap.

“Oh, really?” You are loathe to admit just how badly you want to see him try.

“Yes, really.”

“Hmm, suppose you’d have to catch me first.” You are fully taunting him now, quickly hurtling into the realm of unprofessional but unable to stop yourself.

Snap.

But based off the smile on his face and the heat in his eyes, he is enjoying himself.

“Oh, that ain’t hard.”

“No?”

He chuckles and inches his foot up far enough that your thighs now encase it, sending a rolling shiver through you at the pressured sensation.

Snap.

Obviously, you know how a good round of flirtation and suggestion can open a subject up, so to speak, but you don’t mix business with pleasure. Right now, you are running headlong down a very dangerous road. You aren’t completely naive to the ways of men and sex, but you also aren’t overly experienced when it comes to the deed itself, due to propriety and self- preservation. Your experience has been limited to heavy petting and the basic mechanics of the act, but nothing you’d call very exciting or even overly enjoyable. The whole sex thing honestly seemed overrated, made more to please men than women.

But that was before Elvis Presley sat across from you and wedged his foot between your thighs.

The more you think about it, about him, the more you think you might burn right through your clothes as though it were the dead heat of summer and you’d been running for miles. You force yourself to breathe slowly, evenly, to keep control of your faculties and the situation, but he stares at you with those intense eyes and you already know it’s a losing battle.

“Show me how to work that camera, honey,” he says, surprising you with the change of tactics.

“What for?” Your camera is your livelihood, your baby, your artistic expression so this makes you nervous. Usually, you’d never, ever let a subject touch it. But these aren’t normal circumstances (and you also know that he has more than enough money to replace it if he screws something up).

“Oh, you’ll see,” he smirks, eyes dancing. He makes no indication that he’s going to move his foot from its precarious position in order for you to shift towards him, and when you raise your brows at him questioningly, he just smiles that wide, million dollar smile.

So you slowly, carefully, scoot your butt to the edge of the seat in order to lean far enough forward with the camera in hand. In doing so, however, the sole of his shoe is now flush against your core and you can’t help the little yelp that escapes your lips when he presses against you. It stokes something inside you that you’ve never felt to this extent before.

Oh, you are in trouble. You are in way, way over your head.

You manage a gulp and then clear your throat as you lean over to show him the workings of the camera. He meets you in the middle, and your eyes nearly roll back into your skull for the way it presses his toe into your now aching cunt.

Holy hell, the man smells intoxicating, and you are aware of just how close his face is to yours. It’s as if his eyelashes flutter in slow motion, his breath hot near your cheek, and a pressure builds inside of you, one you’ve only felt when your curious hand has made its way into your panties on a sleepless night or when you’ve pushed a pillow between your thighs, rocking into the friction. Certainly no man has ever made you really feel that way.

But that feeling barely touches the fire that courses through you now. In a slow daze, you show him the basic mechanics and he gently pulls the camera from your grasp. Suddenly, you feel vulnerable and bare without it, your shield of indifference taken away.

Elvis leans back, releasing some of the pressure on your core, and you can breathe again, if only for a moment, because the look in his eyes is nothing short of obscene in its sexiness.

“You develop your own film, darlin’?”

You are confused by the question, but all you can seem to do is nod in response, wondering where in the hell this is going.

“Good. Now, relax, honey, and pull that dress up for me,” he says, as though he’s asking something completely benign of you.

Your face must register your confusion, your surprise. To his credit, he moves his foot away, and his gaze and voice both soften, “I ain’t gonna hurt you, I promise, but you gotta tell me if this isn’t somethin’ you wanna do.”

To your credit, it doesn’t take you long to find your voice, as stammering as it might be. “I-I-I want to,” you say, and it comes out so breathless you’d roll your eyes at yourself in any other circumstance. In fact, you are rather shocked at your eagerness.

Elvis smiles broadly. “Well, okay then, honey. That dress,” he commands, nudging his chin up to remind you what it is he wants from you.

Your heart flutters so fast that you’re not sure it’s even fully beating anymore. You inch the fabric up, up, up your thighs, feeling the softness as it wrinkles under your palms, exposing your stockings to the man in front of you.

Much to your chagrin, you are utterly spellbound. A reasonable voice in the back of your head tells you to stop this nonsense immediately before you make a fool of yourself before you cross lines that cannot be uncrossed. Yet your body is so wound, so tuned into him, so needy for whatever it is he has in store for you that you can barely think.

Snap.

It takes a moment to register that its him taking pictures of you, not the other way around. An embarrassed heat rushes to your cheeks when you realize he’s aimed the camera squarely between your legs and not at your red face.

You pause when reaching the white lace tops of your stockings, the garter clips that hold them up now visible.

Snap.

It’s likely the way he bites his full lower lip behind the camera that gives you the courage to keep going, that little tell that perhaps he’s just as aroused as you, that this isn’t some cruel joke.

Finally, you pull the hem up over your hips, exposing your white panties fully to his scrutiny. Perhaps it’s the damp spot in the center of them that has him shifting his hips with a quiet, low groan. The sound sends a thrill rippling through your limbs.

Snap.

His voice comes out husky and about an octave lower this time. “Now reach into those panties and touch yourself for me, baby. D’you know how to get yourself goin’?”

“I think so, yes,” you reply breathlessly, altogether unsure if anything you’ve ever done to yourself is anything what this obviously experienced man expects.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll help guide ya if you need it,” he says with a kind of deference, patience.

You nod, then, biting your lip in concentration, you slip your hand down under the waistband of your underwear. The pads of your fingers are cool against the blazing heat of your sex as they trail down to that sensitive bundle of nerves you’ve only touched the surface of exploring. You circle the bud a few times, your hips rolling involuntarily in response.

Snap.

“Lower,” Elvis commands, and you obey, sliding down to find how swollen and soaking you already are. Something about the way he is watching you has a coil in your belly tightening in a way it never has before, has your body responding in ways it never has with another person.

“Are you wet, baby?” he breathes.

You nod.

“Show me.” It comes out sultry and eager and sets you on fire that he wants to see with his own eyes what he’s doing to you.

You pull your fingers out of the damp fabric and show him the slick shining there.

“Goddamn,” he whispers, snapping another photo. “Lemme taste you.” The blush revealed on his sky-high cheekbones when he pulls the camera away is enough to send your breath heaving, but it is nothing at all compared to what happens in your body the moment his lips close around your sticky fingertips.

An obscene moan rolls out from your mouth as his soft tongue licks your digits clean. The sound seems to urge him on, resulting in him sucking one, then the other, gently. Your hair stands on end, goosebumps running down your arms, your eyes fluttering closed. That coil inside your pelvis tightens so tight you feel like you might burst, but then he removes his mouth with a resounding pop.

You whimper at the loss and your eyes flutter back open to find his deep blues staring back at you with a passion that seems to rival your own.

“Sweet as honey,” he murmurs with a dreamy smile, picking up the camera once more. Something inside you is proud that he’s enjoyed tasting you, as if you were always meant for him to enjoy. “Now I wanna see that kitty.”

You didn’t know it was possible to be more flushed that you already are, but your cheeks rage with blood. You aren’t exactly sure how he wants that to happen and your brow furrows.

“Just pull those pretty panties to the side for me, baby,” Elvis encourages.

It feels like all the blood in your body rushes into your pussy the moment you slide the ruined cotton off to the side, leaving you bare for him. The cool air makes you shiver, or maybe it is the way he groans as he takes a picture of your most private of areas.

“T-touch yourself for me,” he says, his voice needy and strained now.

You run your fingers down then up through your lower lips, feeling the throbbing pulse of blood down there as you do so, feeling that tightness in your belly squirm for more. The obvious tent in his black slacks has you breathing even harder as you wonder what he would feel like buried inside of you.

But Elvis has other ideas.

“Aw, hell,” he moans before tossing your camera aside and falling to his knees in front of you like a desperate man praying for forgiveness. You barely have time to register your shock at the superstar prostrating himself at your feet before his large hands spread your thighs further apart, and his luscious lips kiss their way up your slit, landing on your aching clit.

“What are you—Oh my god!” you cry out before you can stop yourself, your hands flying into his dark mane of soft, perfectly styled hair. Never in your life had a man put his mouth there, it wasn’t even something you knew was done, and ohmifuckinggod it feels so good that your mind goes blank.

When Elvis moans into you, lathing his tongue flat against you and dragging it up your core, you think you stop breathing completely.

So far gone are you as his wicked tongue winds through and spears and soothes you, that you don’t realize that the mewling murmurs of, “Oh, Jesus. Holy mother of—Oh, Elvis!” are actually coming from your mouth. You feel him smile against you, pausing his ministrations long enough for you to catch your breath.

Which is good, because he immediately knocks it back out of you as he slides a long finger into your tight heat and latches himself to your clit like a man possessed. The deft way his finger pumps, then curves into some unknown spongy spot you didn’t know existed until this very moment has you writhing on the seat, clinging to his beautiful head for dear life. Somehow, the combination of the suckling and licking of your little nub coupled with the rapid work of his hand has your entire body tensing before he hurtles you over an invisible cliff, that tight coil in your belly snapping. Shuddering and gasping, you free fall, and a soothing warmth washes over you from head to toe.

You’ve never felt anything like it in your life.

Your chest heaves with exertion as you come back into yourself, whining at the emptiness when he removes his finger, then shivering as he replaces it with his tongue, lapping at the excess of slick arousal that now seems to coat everything below, including his face.

The aftershocks that he causes to ripple through you stoke the fire in your belly again, and you think that maybe, just maybe you had this sex thing all wrong. That the few men you’d fooled around with had absolutely no idea what they were doing. Because this…this was…so good you can’t even think of an intelligent way to describe it.

Elvis straightens and pulls up onto his knees, looking utterly pleased with himself, his pretty mouth shiny with you. Slotting between your open legs, his eyes shine with arousal.

“Was that good, baby? Did you come?” he asks.

“I—was that…? Did I come? What does that—?” you stammer, barely able to string together a coherent sentence, confused by his words in your haze.

He chuckles at your floundering. “Have you never come before? Never had an orgasm, honey? That’s a damn shame,” he says, wiping his mouth with his thumb, then licking it.

You blush at your inexperience and at his gesture. “That was an orgasm? I mean, of course it was…I, well, I’ve been with men, I just—that never—Um, yes, th-that was amazing,” you babble, knowing that you must be bright red with embarrassment, but your body is so loose and warm that you almost don’t care.

He only smiles at your bashfulness and leans up into you, his mouth hovering so close to yours that you feel his warm breath on your lips and can smell yourself on them. “Well, best give you another one for good measure. Whaddya say, baby?” he whispers, your entire body tingles at attention.

All you can do is nod, almost frantically, wondering how in the world he could make that happen again and absolutely desperate for it at the same time.

It’s then that he finally kisses you and you are consumed all at once with how pillowy soft his lips are, how you can taste yourself on his lips and it feels like it should be wrong, but you sort of like it. He’s surprisingly gentle, his passion evident but controlled as he explores your mouth much in the same way he explored your pussy—soft at first, but insistent. You open to him easily, his tongue quickly finding yours and in one fell swoop, he maneuvers you onto your back on the seat, slotting his long legs between your thighs.

The gentle way his hands and lips caress your face, your neck, down to your breasts and waist has you distracted enough that you are surprised when he rolls his pelvis into yours and his excitement is particularly evident as it pokes into your belly.

It’s because of me, you think in disbelief, I’ve made Elvis Presley, of all men, aroused.

And that thought suddenly has you ravenous and bold. You reach between you two, taking his clothed but considerable length in your hand and squeezing.

Elvis groans above you, then smiles. “You eager little minx. Give you a little taste and now it’s all you can think about, huh?” he teases.

Your response is to smile back and work his length with your hand. You may not know much about the female orgasm before today, but you sure as hell are familiar with how his equipment works.

“Okay, okay,” he gasps, his eyes rolling back, “Jesus, woman, I hear ya.”

He rids himself of his suit jacket while you make quick work of his belt and buttons and zippers. Unbeknownst to you, yet completely unsurprisingly, he is wearing no underwear, so with a quick push of his slacks off his hips, he’s totally bare for you.

He’s well-endowed enough for you to be a little nervous about it which he seems to pick up on. “Don’t you worry, baby, I’ll go slow,” he whispers kindly in your ear.

You nod and respond by wrapping your hand around him and pumping his shaft, swirling your thumb gently over his foreskin and over the head of him. The beaded pre-cum slicks over the tip, eliciting a low growl from the Adonis hovering above you.

Pulling up your skirt again, you bend your knees invitingly, letting him nestle between your legs. Elvis takes a moment to kiss you roughly, nipping at your lower lip, as he coats his erection in your slick, rubbing the length of it between your already sopping and swollen folds. The tip of him brushes against your clit maddeningly as he does so, causing you to arch and keen under him.

Finally, you can stand it no longer, reaching your hand down to line him up with your entrance. He smirks above you, but the look is wiped off his face and quickly replaced with something almost akin to awe as he pushes into you slowly. Your body yearns for him in such a way that, even though you are quite tight around him, you seem to suckle him in, inch by inch. The sensation has the both of you moaning, eyes rolling back and lips parting as you join together.

“Fuck, honey. So goddamned tight for me,” he groans, and a shudder of pleasure rolls through you.

It's utterly delicious the way he slots into you so perfectly, bottoming out as you swallow him whole. He gives you a moment to adjust and relax into the heaviness of him in your body, looking down at you with what you realize are quite soulful eyes. His arousal is obvious in the way his pupils are blown, but he still looks at you with an air of reverence even though this seems to be a spontaneous and casual fuck on a train.

When he starts thrusting in and out of you, slowly at first, and with somehow perfect precision, hitting spots inside you that you didn’t know existed, you realize you’ll never be able to have sex again without comparing it to the gorgeous man above you.

Lord, you wish you could take a picture of the way he looks right now, hair mussed and sweat beading on his forehead, his plump lips parted and panting. This is the perfectly imperfect Elvis you wished to capture when you got on this train. But in this moment, he is just for you to see. You don’t want to share him with the world.

He’s patient in his approach to keep his promise, yet he doesn’t need to wait long. Your body is humming with arousal, the warmth blossoming over you as his thrusts become more pointed and deeper. The way he rolls his pelvis, then swivels it, playing with motion and depth make you realize he’s gauging every reaction you have, adjusting to what brings you closer to falling apart.

You barely recognize the sounds coming out of your mouth, feeling every hard inch of him taking over you, wanting more, more, more. Your wet heat flutters around him and he speeds his thrusts, but it’s when he brings his hand between you and rubs his thumb against your hypersensitive bud that you truly begin to fall apart.

This time, it’s more gradual, the way the heat and pressure builds. You know more of what to expect, but holy hell, he’s playing you like an instrument, making your entire body quiver with desire and need. You almost want to escape the feeling—it’s so intense, so stimulating, as he pounds into you from above, but you also never want it to stop.

“C’mon, baby, that’s my good girl,” he praises in that low Southern drawl, and that takes you up, up, up the crest of your arousal.

You pant and whine, desperate now for a release you’ve never had a taste of until now.

“That’s it, come for me now, darlin’, come on me,” he moans, working your clit faster.

That sends you flying over the edge, hitting the crest of your orgasm so hard the wind is knocked out of you, and you see white stars in the blackness of your closed eyes. You clench around him, your legs wrapped around his waist, squeezing, as though he can keep you from flying away. Body shuddering with release, you feel a gush of warmth and he’s sliding so effortlessly through you, he could split you in two and you wouldn’t even know it.

“Oh, fuck, you’re so good for me…did so good baby,” he pants, watching you come down from your high.

Elvis slows down, easing you through it, though he looks like he wants to absolutely ravage you for the way he looks at you so hungrily. He’s holding back, you can tell.

“I’m gonna pull out, baby. I-I-I—can I come on your pretty lil’ face?” he gasps, eyes begging you.

You’d be more taken aback if he hadn’t just fucked you silly. Never in a thousand years would you think to let a man claim you in such a way, but you find that you want—no, need—it. You’d let him do almost anything with you at this point.

You nod, unable to speak with how fucked out you are. Elvis pulls out of your heat and you groan at the loss of him, but he’s pulling you down to the floor and you go, bonelessly, onto your knees. Towering above you, he stands, using the remnants of your glistening release to pump his cock expertly, and the sight sends shivers through you.

“Oh, that’s it, honey. Open your mouth for me,” he pants out, tapping your chin with his finger.

You obey without question.

Elvis clasps his free hand at the back of your neck, cupping your jaw as he thrusts roughly into his other hand. “Aw, f-f-f-fuckin’ hell,” he moans loudly, and then he comes violently. Pulsing, hot streams squirt over your cheeks, your chin, and you taste the bitter tang of his salty release on your tongue.

You’ve never tasted a man before, and you’re glad the first is Elvis Presley.

He looks absolutely ethereal in his release. The way he grits his teeth and then his mouth hangs open, eyes fluttering shut and body shuddering as he paints you with him makes him even more attractive than you thought possible.

You wait, mouth still agape and covered in his seed. His bedroom eyes open and he looks down at you. “Jesus, you look so damn beautiful covered in me,” he says dreamily. “Stay just like that.”

Then, surprising you once again, he grabs your camera which had been discarded earlier, bringing it up to his face.

Snap.

He memorializes the moment.

“Swallow, baby,” he guides you, tapping your chin closed. You do, even though it makes you a little queasy because you’ve never done this before.

Snap.

“Open,” he says, pulling the camera from his face. Then, he uses his thumb and fingers to wipe your face of him, depositing the rest of his cum in your mouth. “Want ya to take it all for me,” he coos. You take it willingly, and then suckle the rest off his fingers.

“My pretty lil’ photographer,” he moans out, snapping one last shot as he pumps his fingers in your mouth. “S’good for me, you dirty girl.”

You can’t help but whine at that.

Elvis flops back down onto the seat, dark hair failing in his eyes, and pulls you into his lap. He kisses you, gently, then with more insistence as he seems to relish the taste of himself on your tongue.

“Mmm, I want copies of those photos,” he says seriously, pulling back and looking into your eyes.

You blush furiously. “Okay,” you whisper, nodding.

He lets his head fall back onto the seat and closes his eyes in refraction. After a moment, he speaks again, pulling you in close.

“And I want you to be with me in California, once we get there. Will you stay?” he asks quietly.

The way he asks so earnestly both stuns and delights you. You couldn’t say no even if you wanted to.

“I will,” you say.

Elvis smiles.

Grabbing your camera, you take one last shot of your beautiful, mind-blowing man.

Snap.

187 notes · View notes

daebakinc · 3 months

Text

Dirty, Dirty Dancing Pt. 2 (M)

A Dirty Dancing AU

Pairing: Yunho X Female Reader X Hyunjin (polyamorous relationship)

Word Count: 4.6K

Synopsis: The college campus where boyfriend, Yunho, is a visiting dance instructor seems like every other university you’ve visited until a secret party reveals it’s anything but. After a drunken mishap, promising dance student, Hyunjin, is left without a dance partner. Enlisted in helping him before a big audition, you begin to catch feelings for him. Can you help him and maintain a relationship with your boyfriend?

Part 1

~Admin V

The three of you stood outside the door with your watermelons in hand. Your eyes had to be as big as saucers. Sure, you’d seen videos of pole dancing, or when there were performances on talent-search shows, but never in person, or so many.

There was a cacophony of students on the poles. Some poles had only one person, but there were some with two. Some students were fully clothed, others in shorts or less. Legs and arms dangled in the air as the dancers spun in circles. If their feet were on the ground, they rolled their bodies against the poles or clung to the pole with one hand as they did floor tricks.

There was so much to see and take in you didn’t know where to look. “Where’d they learn to do that?”

Changbin cracked a smile. “Kids are doing it back home in their basements.”

Felix shook his head. “There’s a couple of classes they teach here, hence why there’s so many poles.”

You mouthed an “ah” and looked back to all the dancers.

Nudging against your shoulder, Changbin wiggled his eyebrows and hips at you. “Wanna try it?”

You quickly shook your head and looked away from him, which made him chuckle. Yunho was the dancer of the two of you. You were lucky not to step on feet when dancing. You couldn’t fathom being able to dance on a pole.

Felix was also smiling. “Come on.” He led the way through the mass of students.

Those who weren’t on poles were paired off or in groups, dancing very close together and grinding. Felix expertly weaved between them. You tried to make yourself as small as possible to not touch anyone until you were all at the back of the room. There was a table filled with snacks and drinks, which is where you set down the watermelons.

Once your arms were free, the three of you turned and leaned against the table as you watched all the excitement in the room.

Changbin nudged you again. “Can you imagine if they did dancing like this in the student performances we saw tonight?”

“Well why not? If the school provides classes, why wouldn’t there be performances with the poles?” You looked on with fascination as a dancer at the top of a pole dropped down quickly, stopping before reaching the floor and spun around like it was nothing.

Felix leaned in so you could hear him over the music. “Our professors might be progressive, but the president and alums are not. They’d close the school down first before ever allowing a pole performance.”

“How’d the school get the poles then if they’re against it? Aren’t those the people who would pay for them?”

“Dance department has its own funding. And even if the president had to sign off on something, he’s so stupid, he’d probably assume they were just ballet bars or something.” Changbin chuckled to himself before bringing a red solo cup to his lips. “Fuckin’ Jinyoung Park”

So, conservative president and alumni. How did that work at a liberal arts school? You wondered if that’s why Hyunjin and Yeji made no contact in their performance.

Think of the devil, the couple walked into the room, eliciting some cheers from the other dancers present. Someone handed Hyunjin a beer, which he sipped from and handed back then shook his hair from his half ponytail. Yeji was grabbed into a huddle of girls.

It wasn’t long before she took hold of a pole. Hyunjin was quickly behind her. As he grabbed the bar, she supported herself on his arms. He held them both up with his arms and began spinning. Yeji lifted her legs, allowing Hyunjin space to wrap his legs around the pole. As he raised them, it allowed for Yeji to sit in his lap as they continued to spin.

Hyunjin was the one supporting them, but the way Yeji clung to him, or moved in her own way on the pole made it look so beautiful. Artistic even.

“You’d think they were a couple, wouldn’t you?” Felix popped a pretzel in his mouth.

“Well aren’t they?”

“No,” Changbin chimed in. “Not since freshman year.”

Looking at Changbin, you instantly knew he had no beef with Yeji. He was in love with her, and just as mesmerized by their dancing as you were.

You refocused your attention to watch them twirl to the music. It was a shame they couldn’t do a pole performance, especially for an audition. Not that there was anything wrong with the performance they did at the banquet, but this was way more intriguing. They made the dancing on the pole look so easy, but you could see from the strain of each of their muscles that it was anything but.

The song ended. Hyunjin carefully lowered them back to the ground. He whispered something to Yeji, in which she nodded her head. Then he left her side and was walking directly toward you.

The moment he saw you, something sparked in his eyes. He reached on the table for two drinks, then looked to Changbin and Felix. “What’s she doing here?” The confusion from the banquet was no longer in his gaze.

“She came with us,” Felix popped another pretzel in his mouth.

“I carried a watermelon.”

Hyunjin just stared at you like you were an idiot, and frankly, after blurting something so stupid, you felt like one. He said nothing else and took the drinks back to Yeji.

The song changed, which caused loud cheers from everyone. It must’ve been a line-dance the way most everyone left the poles and were gathering next to each other on the floor.

“It’s the Wobble!” Changbin left your side to join the other dancers.

“Come dance with us,” Felix waited for you to follow.

“I leave the dancing to Yunho.”

“You sure?” It looked like he was willing to stand with you and miss the song.

“You go dance. I’ll be fine here. I should actually probably head out soon.”

He gave a smile. “Okay. Well, I’ll see you for catering for the luncheon.” And he was off to join his friends.

The Wobble actually seemed fun, just bouncing and shaking. Your self-preservation instincts were quite high, however, and you were not about to embarrass yourself in front of trained dancers.

The music changed to another line dance.

Busy watching Felix and Changbin have fun, you didn’t notice Hyunjin next to you until his arm stretched in front of you; an offer to dance.

Raising your hands, you shook your head. “I’m okay, I don’t dance.”

His arm remained, and even shook to signal to take it.

Looking at him, you could see from his stare he wasn’t going to take “no” for an answer. Oh gods you didn’t want to, but found yourself taking his hand somehow.

He led you to one of the now empty poles. You felt all the color leave your face. “I cannot pole dance. I’ve never done it before.”

He let go of your hand, trusting you wouldn’t run. Hyunjin positioned himself on the pole, hoisting his frame one handed while wrapping his leg snuggly around the pole.

You weren’t sure of what you were supposed to do. That’s when Hyunjin motioned with his finger to come to him. Feet moving on their own, you were next to him and the pole.

“Sit on my leg.”

He couldn’t be serious. “I can’t sit on you.”

His eyebrow raised in amusement. “You can’t sit?”

“I’m too heavy.”

He quickly looked bored. Then his gaze moved to his arm, making you look at it as well. It was thick with muscle. His focus moved downward to his leg. It too, was quite impressively large. “I think I can handle it.”

There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that he could. Your choices were to run now while you had the chance, or sit on him as requested. Exhaling slowly, you reached for the pole and lifted yourself onto his leg.

“Do you feel comfortable?”

“I guess so. I have to let go of the pole, don’t I?”

“Do you want to let go?”

Not really, but you were already sitting on him. There was no turning back now. With one arm around his lower back, you rested your free hand on his thigh.

He looked into your eyes. “I won’t let you fall.” As soon he said it, his foot holding you both steady lifted from the floor and you both began spinning. Scared from the sudden movement, you hugged against him.

You were very aware that your face was on his chest, especially as his scent invaded your nose. It reminded you of being out on campus, flowery and woodsy. But you were too scared of falling to back away and sit comfortably.

“It was you earlier.”

Not saying anything, you remained in your clinging-for-dear-life position.

“Down by the lake,” he continued. “You were watching me paint.”

“Yeah,” was all you could muster.

Realizing your fear, Hyunjin put his foot back on the ground to stop the spinning. “I told you I wouldn’t let you fall. Look at me.”

Loosening your grip, you lifted from hugging his side and looked at him.

His foot lifted again so you were twirling, but before you could koala-squeeze him again, he lifted your chin with his free hand. “Just look at me. You’re okay.”

Moving his hand inward made the two of you spin even faster which didn’t help your worry about falling, but you convinced yourself to trust him.

You stared into his eyes as the two of you spun and allowed yourself to feel the motion of it. Not brave enough to look away, you kept your attention on his face.

He was staring at you intensely, maybe hoping to transfer some courage through his stare.

Yunho came to mind as you stared at Hyunjin. The second you’d met Yunho, you found him breathtakingly handsome. As you got to know him, you saw his cute, puppy-dog features. But looking at Hyunjin, he was a different kind of handsome. He was stunning in his own way. Beautiful in his intensity. You wondered if he had any cute features that would offset it.

He didn’t spin you for long before putting his foot back on the floor and helping you to the ground. “I would’ve tried another position, but you still seem too nervous.”

“I don’t like making a fool of myself.”

An expression like he was trying to figure you out while thinking about what you said crossed his face. He didn’t say anything else and walked away.

Not realizing you’d been staring off once he left, you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Damn girl, you certainly caught Hyunjin’s attention.” Yeji, brought her cup to her lips, clearly seeking some hot gossip.

You felt shy and pushed your hair behind your ear. “I think he just saw I was by myself and didn’t want me to feel left out.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure. That move he just did with you is called the Cupid.” She smiled and wiggled her eyebrows at you. Hopefully, it was just the alcohol talking.

“He probably just chose it because it made his leg available for me to sit on and I didn’t have to do anything.”

She didn’t say anything more, but her smile became wider until she too left you in your thoughts.

Thinking it would be better to leave before someone else tried to drag you on a pole, you were soon trekking across campus to the visiting artist guest house.

From the looks of it, Yunho didn’t arrive home much before you. “Did you just get in?” You took your shoes off by the door.

“I did. The guys had a lot of stories to share.” He took off his button-down shirt, leaving him in a tank. “I’m surprised you’re coming home so late.”

“Yeah,” you shook your hair out of the tight, catering-approved bun. “My coworkers needed help with some watermelons.” Walking towards him, you wrapped your hands around his face. “Hi.”

Yunho grinned. “Hi.” His lips pressed gently against yours.

“You know the school has stripper poles?”

“You saw them?” A look of envy crossed his face.

“It’s where the watermelons needed to be.” You pecked his lips again.

Pushing you back slightly to study your face, he asked, “Did you try it?” The grin on his face told you he already knew you wouldn’t try it on your own.

“Actually, one of your students coaxed me into it.”

“Nu uh,” he chuckled, thinking you were joking. He took off his tank.

“Well, he used the pole, I just kinda held on to him.”

“You’re being serious?” The laughter was now gone from his face.

You nodded, which made Yunho beam in a new way,

He hugged you into his arms. “Which student?”

“Why, are you going to threaten them for touching your girl?”

“Not at all,” he kissed your nose. “I’m gonna give him extra marks for making my baby try something new and adventurous.”

“Does it really matter?”

“No,” he went back to kissing your mouth, reminding you of the promise to continue the morning's activities.

Groaning, you pushed against him. “I’m still gross from work. And after I shower, I think I’ll be too sleepy.”

The smirk never left his face. “I can always shower with you.”

Raising your eyebrow, you sighed. “How much showering would actually take place?”

He knew he had you. “You’ll get clean. I promise.”

Unable to resist his proud little smirk, you continued removing your clothes, causing him to take off the rest of his.

It was a shower/bathtub combo, and once the two of you figured out how to switch the setting to shower, he was a man of his word. He massaged your scalp when shampooing your hair and scrubbed your back and other hard to reach places when soaping up. Of course, he couldn’t help himself when washing your chest and took longer than necessary to clean the area until your nipples were hard.

You turned so your back was to him to wash your face under the water. That’s when his arms snaked around your chest and tummy to pull you against him.

Turning your head, you looked back at him. “Cleaning is over?”

“Yes,” he whispered before nibbling on your earlobe.

The sensation sent a shiver through your body.

Yunho’s hands were instantly over your chest again. He cupped your breasts in each hand. He was gentle as he massaged them, until his thumbs and forefingers reached to pinch your nipples.

Your moan surprised you. The sudden pressure from the pinch sent waves of arousal through your tummy.

“They’re still nice and hard from their washing.” You could hear the proud smirk in his voice. “Should I pinch them again?” His breath was warm against your ear.

You pushed your head back against him. “Yes.”

He squeezed the hard buds again, giving way to another cry of pleasure from you. “How many times should I tweak them, baby?” He pinched them again. “Another?” Again. “One more time?” Again.

Each press of your nipples sent a jolt through you. “Keep doing it, please Yunho.”

Yunho chuckled, the sound loud and deep as he spoke into your ear. “But what if I want to give you more?”

His hands released your breasts, making you whimper at the loss of heat. With his left arm he held your chest and pulled you snuggly against him while his right hand slid slowly down your tummy. “Open your legs for me, baby.”

You did as you were told.

The arm over your chest pressed tighter against you, holding you firmly in place as his other arm slid down and you felt his fingers on your clitoris. There was no comparison to the feel of his skin versus the silicon of San. He’d barely begun touching you, and the swells of elation were already coursing to your toes.

His fingertips moved slowly, stroking upward against you.

Reaching up, your hands gripped against his arm. A moan sounded out as he switched his movements to slow, deliberate circles.

He focused his lips on your neck now, pressing soft kisses against it, causing you to moan again. Your sounds were turning him on and soon you could feel the hard evidence against your back.

“Yunho,” you breathed as he sped up his circling. Your legs began shaking from trying to hold yourself up as he was bringing you closer to orgasm.

“You’re already so close for me?”

Squeezing his arm, you pressed your head back against him. “You feel better than San.” You couldn’t help but whimper when he changed direction of his circles.

He chuckled against your ear. “I love hearing that.” As he left kisses against your shoulder this time, his fingers slid down from your clit and pushed into your warmth. “And so wet for me, too.”

His fingers didn’t stay in you long. Now slick from you, he rubbed them upward on your clit once again, the new potency wracking your body with endorphins and causing echoes from your moaning.

“You’re ready, aren’t you, baby? You want to cum for me?”

“I don’t want you to stop, it feels too good,” your response was louder than intended, making him laugh.

His fingers went back to a circling motion, going at a devastatingly slow pace.

“Yunho, please,” you couldn’t help but whine.

He wasn’t much for teasing, but he lived for evoking any sound he could from your lips. He moved the circles much faster. Then faster. Faster.

With your legs shaking, you held onto his arm tighter, your orgasm finally going over the edge as water continued cascading down the two of you.

Yunho moved his hand from between your legs and wrapped his arm back around your tummy until you were able to hold yourself up on your own.

He kissed your ear then whispered in it again. “I want to be inside you, baby. Do you want to feel how much I want you?”

Goosebumps raised up your arms.

“Gods, yes, I wanna feel you.”

Your answer made him chuckle more.

Carefully spinning you around, his lips found yours. His hands pressed against your lower back, making sure your skin was against his. You knew he was needy, but he did a good job of hiding his desperation. He kissed you slowly, memorizing the shape of your lips, then their taste. When his tongue became involved, one of his hands slid down your back, over your ass and grabbed your thigh to lift it, pulling your leg to wrap around him. With your leg out of the way, he stepped his foot up on the corner ledge of the tub. Sensing your unease from the height imbalance, he pushed against you until your shoulder and upper back were against the tiled wall.

Shifting only to make sure he was secure and that neither of you would slip in this position, Yunho pressed his forehead against yours and looked into your eyes. “Okay, baby?”

Your breath caught from his gaze, but you were able to give a shaky “yes” in response as you held onto his biceps.

Not needing further prompting, he guided his length to your entrance.

A thrill of endorphins encompassed your body when you heard the loud groan from Yunho. “Damn, baby. You feel so good.”

You could only respond with a whimper of your own. He felt good to you, too. You felt so full as his girth stretched you.

He moved his hips carefully, rolling them at a slow tempo to keep balance. Yunho held onto your lower back, his other hand pressed against the shower wall. Whenever he thrusted into you, his hand squeezed against your lower back, the sounds of his and your pleasure rising.

The friction of his thrusts continued to stimulate your clitoris. Each gyration into you caused his tip to rub against your g-spot.

Out of your control, your legs once again shook. The foot still on the shower floor slipped, and scared to fall, you quickly grabbed onto Yunho’s shoulders.

Stopping his movements, he held you against him, his mouth over your ear. “You’re okay, baby. I won’t let you fall.” He continued slow, hard thrusts into you.

A new shiver coursed down your spine. Your mind was no longer in the bathroom with Yunho, but back to the pole with Hyunjin. The heat of his chest as your face was pressed against it. The weight of your leg on his thigh. The intensity in his eyes as he stared at you, promising not to let you fall. His eyes pierced you, dark, focused, full of strength and curiosity. And you felt him pumping into you. Harder. Rougher. Faster.

You felt dizzy like you were spinning with him again. You looked into the deep dark chocolate of his eyes. His thrusts were getting faster and harder and more aggressive and your clit was getting such pressure from the motion of it all. I won’t let you fall. Look at me rang through your ears and you couldn’t control yourself from screaming out. You were reaching the peak of your breaking point.

“Fuck,” your nails dug into Yunho’s shoulders as your climax took over your body, moans slightly stifled into Yunho’s chest. As you squeezed around him, you felt his body shake as he was close to his own orgasm.

“Baby, hold onto my shoulders.”

Once you were gripping him tightly, Yunho lowered his foot from the ledge and lowered your leg from around him. He pushed your hips away from him as he pulled out. His moan was deep and loud as he came, his ejaculate getting on both of your stomachs. He leaned his head on your shoulders. He pinned you with both of his hands on either side of you.

The two of you panted trying to catch your breaths. It was hard to tell if the shaking was from your bodies’ satisfaction, or shivering from the water no longer feeling warm against your skin.

Your hands rubbed against his shoulders to help him calm down, and to help you stay distracted. You were allowing yourself to focus on Yunho and not think too deeply about why you just came as hard as you did without him in your thoughts.

When he quieted, he lifted his head to look at you. “I guess we should’ve saved the washing for after,” he grinned.

“Yeah,” was all you could muster.

Yunho chuckled. “It was a lot more passionate than I was expecting, too. I thought it at least would’ve taken longer after you already got off with San earlier.”

Moving your hands from his shoulders, you took hold of his face. You loved this face. The sharpness of his jawline. The pout of his lips. The furrow of his brow. So why wasn’t it his face in your mind just now that pushed you into euphoria?

He watched you in interest and mistook your silence as being overcome from the sex.

“I can wash us again, my love.” He kissed your nose, then your lips, before breaking your hold and doing as he said.

You on the other hand continued to overthink the situation. You didn’t exactly feel guilty. What was there to be guilty about? Yunho knew you’d done the pole dancing earlier. But, you didn’t disclose who you danced with. It’s not like you couldn’t just tell him. The two of you rarely kept any secrets from each other. However, you also didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Telling him it wasn’t only him who brought you to a withering mess would certainly do that.

Washed, dried, and in bed wrapped in Yunho’s arms, you still couldn’t control your brain. You’d decided to tell Yunho, just maybe not until a few days later. That way, there was also still a chance you’d forget all about it and there’d be nothing to tell.

Listening to Yunho’s easy breathing, you forced yourself to concentrate on the sound and push away the shambles of your brain. Soon the heaviness of the day lulled you into sleep.

It was late into the morning when you finally woke up. Yunho was already gone, probably having taught several classes by now. He’d left a note on his pillow that he'd see you for lunch.

The school’s president’s luncheon wasn’t until tomorrow, which meant you could do some more exploring around the campus.

Part of you wanted to head back towards the lake to see if Hyunjin was there. Not that you were dying to see him, but perhaps confronting him could clear your mind of him all together. However, there was also a chance that your brain would hold onto him even more and interrupt more intimate moments with Yunho.

Thinking better of it, you headed in a new direction. The path you went down today took you on a hilly route, eventually leading you to the school library. A large gazebo in front of the building was filled with several musicians working on a composition. It took a bit of time to walk around the building, as it was quite large, before long you were at the back of it, where a willow tree grew with a koi pond underneath it.

Looking down at the fish made you smile. You wondered how Hyunjin would paint the fish and the pond. Would it be similar to how he did the lake; colorful and patchy?

Your phone vibrating in your pocket brought you back to reality. It was a message from Yunho requesting for you to bring lunch to him. There was some kind of emergency in the dance studio.

Spinning on your heel, you hiked back into the direction of the dining hall. You went in the front entrance this time, realizing you’d not actually seen it, just the kitchen. With round tables and tablecloths, it looked homier than a cafeteria.

You recognized some of the waitstaff you’d worked with the night before and were able to get to-go boxes from them. You wanted to ask if they would know anything about the emergency, but you didn’t recognize any of them from the party. They could’ve been studying other artistic disciplines.

Once the boxes were filled up and paid for, you walked to the quad where the campus map stood.

Unlucky for you, the dance studio was about as far from the dining hall as it was to the guest house. This gave you time to worry about what the emergency was. Did Yunho get hurt in class today? There was drinking at the party last night. Did campus police bust it up and get the dance students in trouble? Maybe it was nothing too serious and one of the dance mirrors just got a crack in it.

More of the same questions floated through your mind. You’d climbed a monster of a hill across campus, and now were confronted with a ridiculous number of steps leading to the dance studio. You wouldn’t have been surprised if one of the students tripped and fell down them and that was the emergency.

Finally in the building, it looked similar to the setup as the one Felix and Chanbin lead you to the night before. You were able to find the studio Yunho was teaching in and pushed open the door.

Your eyes found Yunho first. Though his face held concern, he looked fine otherwise. You recognized Christopher and Seonghwa who both also looked worried, but not injured. A lump grew in your throat when you saw Hyunjin staring back at you. Was he the emergency? Studying his face, you saw stress, but no pain. Looking him over, his body looked fine. That’s when you noticed Yeji sitting in a chair next to him with her leg in a bright pink cast.

#yunho #jeong yunho #hyunjin #ateez #stray kids #yunho ateez scenarios #yunho ateez fics #hyunjin fics #hyunjin scenarios #ateez fics #ateez scenarios #stray kids fics #stray kids scenarios #kpop fics #kpop scenarios #kpop smut

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rosemary-morgan · 9 months

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Javier Escuella X F.Reader - It's never to late to repent (Part 2)

(Pictures found on pinterest/google. That one with Javier is mine. Collage made by me 🌺)

Many thanks to @fangirl-ramblings 🖤 she has been beta reading for me 🌹

The second chapter is online 🥰 thanks to all who read and like my story 🐝🌺 I hope you will enjoy the second chapter too!

@rose-of-black-blood @livingdeadgirly

If anyone of you want to be tagged to not miss the newest chapter, please let me know 🙏

👉Read Part 1 /Part 3 / Part 4

Warning: a little angsty, broken hearts and their effects, hints of depression!

Summary: Javier is trying to escape his past, while you still have the hope of seeing him again one day. But the loneliness and pain of a broken heart keeps pulling you back to reality. This never-ending pain just doesn't seem to go away, and you try to suppress it as much as you can…

Javier Escuella X F.Reader - It's never to late to repent (Part 2)

Javier sighed softly while sitting by the fire and sharpening the blade of his knife. The pleasant tranquility of nature surrounded him. The soft croaking of the crickets was like a chorus in unison.

Many things were going through Javier's mind, he thought about the turn his life had taken since Dutch's downfall, the downfall of his family. After Javier lost all his trust in Dutch, he lost himself. He had traveled a lot, trying to cope with the pain and the loss of his family, but he had fallen into one shit situation into another. But at some point Javier had realized that real life was different. He had realized that it had been time to come to rest, to earn his money with decent work. It was not a life of luxury that Javier lived. He lived in a small hut, a bit away from the city center. This was the best he could get in the area, yet it was possible for him to sleep in a bed, something that had been impossible for him for decades. His job was making furniture, engraving it. He had a talent for that kind of thing and his boss liked what he saw. In the last few months, Javier had made great progress. There was a customer in Saint Denis who wanted to see his skills and so Javier was asked to visit that customer. Well… then you came into the picture. Suddenly you were there, in Saint Denis. Javier had avoided this cursed city for years, for he had not come to terms with the bank robbery that had gone wrong in 1899. It had been the beginning of the end.

Javier would never be able to forget how young Lenny had been lying in his own blood. Shot by Pinkertons. Or Hosea who had been a father figure to all of them. A man who had taught him so many things. Guarma was also a dark chapter in his life. He had been tortured there and that had left its mark on his psyche.

Seeing you was the happiest moment for him in years. Knowing that you were alive was an incredible relief for Javier. Yet you seem so far away from him. How could he ever come face to face with you? After he had sent you to hell because, unlike him, you had realized the truth. God, he wanted you so much. Javier suffered like a dog without you. All these years he had been as miserable as you. Living apart from you was a torture for him!

Javier put his knife aside to pull out a piece of jewelry from his vest pocket. It was a necklace, with a medallion. He opened it and looked at your photograph. After all these years, he still had it with him. It was the only thing he had left of you. How many sleepless nights had he had? He couldn't even count them. Nights in which he had looked at your beautiful picture and guilt had eaten him up.

"Y/N… Mi rosa…"

He clasped the medallion with his hand, closing his eyes as he did so, trying to suppress the pain in his heart, but he had never been able to do that before either.

“Mi amor… nunca he dejado de amarte” (I’ve never stopped loving you)

Maybe you were married? Had children? Javier didn't know. Did he even want to know? See you with another man by your side? Probably not!

But this uncertainty would kill him! Making him extremely restless with these thoughts! He sighed in annoyance, started to wriggle his leg, his whole body moving as he did so. He hated the thought of seeing you with another man! At some point it became so unbearable for him that he got on his horse and went for a night ride. He needed a clear head now, he needed to sort out his thoughts…

♦♦♦♦

You looked at yourself in the mirror, really liking how the new dress looked on you. It's been a long time since you last treated yourself. You were actually only working to earn your salary, and had often forgotten to do something good for you. Therefore, it came in handy that the train connection had broken down and had forced you to stay in Saint Denis yesterday. With a smile you pulled the fabric over your shoulders, looking at your skin and how the dress flatters your figure. It was a dark green dress, or emerald green as the seller had called it. Actually, you had no idea what occasion you would wear this dress to, but you had liked it so much that you wanted it. Of course, you could have sewn one for yourself, but you still had orders waiting and you couldn't just let them wait.

"I could wear it… wear it tonight?"

You looked thoughtfully in the mirror as you adjusted your dress. You knew about a performance at the theater. It would be the perfect opportunity to wear this dress. So why not? What was wrong with a young woman going to the theater alone? You had done everything alone for the last five years, so you were used to it, along with the stares from the people, since it was rather unusual for a young woman to sit down alone in a restaurant, or to go into a theater. You still had to admit that it often hurt to see couples. Couples walking through the park holding hands. People looking at each other in love while sitting in a restaurant and letting their food get cold because they didn't care about what was going on around them. You had once felt that feeling too. That feeling of love and happiness. Oh, how you wanted to experience that again…

Your gaze wandered to the ground as your thoughts searched for Javier. You couldn't help it, but sometimes this man just crept into your mind. There was nothing you could do about those memories, even though it hurt so much that very moment. Loneliness has become a bitter companion in your life. And the more you thought about it, the more you fell into sadness. Now, in those moments when you were not among people, those were the most difficult moments for you because you had the feeling that no one would see your tears. You sighed heavily as the first tears shimmered in your eyes. Until a few seconds ago, you had been happy about your dress, until Javier had come back to your mind. You had asked yourself the absurd question of whether he would like you in this dress. But it didn't matter at all, because there would be no answer.

Why had Javier hurt you so much ? You couldn't forget his words until today. And yet you had forgiven him. But you didn't know if he was still alive. There was not even an address where you could send him a letter. There were hundreds of letters in your home. Letters that you had written, but never sent. Some you had burned in the fire, others you had torn up. And that's what you did in the beginning to banish Javier. But it was of no use…

You shook your head, undid the bows on your dress to loosen the corset and finally pulled it off your body. What was that all about? Why this torture? You decide to go back home right away. Work was calling and that had always been the best distraction for you. When you had taken off your dress, you put back on the one you had come here in. Your mood had dropped rapidly and that you were sad could be seen clearly in your face, but you didn't care. A bit gruffly, you packed the new dress into the box, which you had received with the purchase, in order to be able to transport the dress safely home. Within a few minutes you were out of the hotel and headed straight for the train station. You hoped very much that you would be able to travel home.

With a quiet sigh, you headed to the cashier's desk to buy a ticket. While waiting, you let your eyes wander around the area. And suddenly, there it was again. The scent of spicy lavender. Just like the day before. Instantly you were reminded of Javier, because he had smelled the same! But you shook your head, about to banish that man from your mind again, when something caught your attention. When you looked out onto the platform, there was a young man… a cigarette in his hand. His raven black hair tied back in a pigtail. A red scarf he wore over a blue jacket. You frowned and stopped in place, watching the man and wondering if you had now completely lost your mind. You thought you saw Javier, but you couldn't swear to it, as he had his back to you. The supposed stranger threw his cigarette to the ground, blew out the smoke, and in the next moment looked slowly in your direction.

As if in a trance, you looked at him, not even hearing what the train conductor said to you, as he handed you the ticket. Javier really was standing in front of you. Only a few meters away, but he hadn't noticed you yet. But he felt all the more that he was being watched. This feeling grew stronger until Javier looked directly in your direction and when he saw you, his heart almost stopped. He stared at you, his throat went dry. How many times had he wished to see you again? How often had he imagined scenarios in which you would find each other again? Saying everything that had remained unspoken? And now that time had come. But for what he had done to you, he could not be ashamed enough. Not just what he had done to you. But John and Arthur as well. You'd probably send him to hell anyway.

"Miss? Miss, the train leaves in five minutes! Miss?"

But you didn't listen at all to the friendly man behind the counter and he gave up, served the other passengers. You were busy processing in your mind what just happened.

Only a few moments passed, but time seemed to stop. And that magic, that moment, dissolved when Javier shamefully averted his gaze from you and walked in the other direction.

"No…"

You wouldn't let him go! Not this time. It hurt you immensely to see him running from you after all these years. Did he have any idea how miserable you'd been without him? You immediately ran after Javier, calling his name.

"Javier!"

Instantly he stopped, looked down at the ground, and swallowed nervously. His Adam's apple trembled, he tried to suppress his tears that were just rising inside him. His heart was pounding up to his throat! His stomach contracted painfully. He heard your footsteps, but he still had his back turned to you. He perceived your scent and for a moment he closed his eyes to recall what you once were. A couple that had loved each other dearly. A young couple who believed that nothing could tear them apart. How wrong he had been. The most painful thing was that he had allowed you to be torn apart.

You stopped at his side, looked at his back, wondered if he still loathed you, because he didn't even look at you. But at least he had stopped.

"Javier?"

Carefully you put your hand on his shoulder, making him turn towards you, but still his eyes were not on you. You could make out a guilty look on his face, which gave you a glimmer of hope that he might feel something positive for you.

"What's wrong with you, Javier? Can't you look me in the eye?"

And after you said this, his gaze slowly moved up to your pretty face. Yet he remained silent, for his words stuck firmly in his throat. You looked at him closely. He had not aged in the last five years. You were still young, just in your early thirties, and yet it seems as if decades had passed.

"Do you think you broke my heart?"

It needed to be said. You've been carrying this with you all these years now. Javier had hurt you deeply, but you had forgiven him. You were ready to make peace, and now that he was standing in front of you, all you wanted to do was lie in his arms. But at the moment it felt like you two were complete strangers.

"Yes, Javier… You did. You hurt me a lot when you stood by Dutch and Micah…"

"It's better if I go, Y/N. I'm sorry…"

Javier had only wanted the best for his family at the time, but had been taken advantage of like a puppet. Dutch had blinded him and that he had listened to it, well, he just had to live with the consequences now.

But you didn't even think about letting him go! What was that about? He was just going to leave? Just like that?! Didn't he have anything else to say? Immediately you grabbed his arm, whereupon Javier also stopped. It didn't look like you had to make an effort to keep him with you. A good sign. At least, that's what you hoped.

"It won't help you if you run away, Javier. You won't undo anything by doing that!"

Besides, you had just found him again.

Javier saw your tears and at that moment his eyes softened. It hurt so much to see you. He had no words to say! It seemed easier for him to leave and go on living his life as he was used to.

"Y/N, I've made a terrible mistake…"

That was what you were hoping to hear. Not because you wanted to claim your right, but because you had hoped he had made his peace with you.

"There is no hope for me. No forgiveness, Y/N."

"Oh, Javier… don't say that. We all made mistakes…"

His skin tingled pleasantly as you placed your delicate hand against his cheek. Lovingly, you stroked your thumb over his skin as you sought the look in his eyes. The scent of spicy lavender rose to your nose, mixed with tobacco and you had to smile, because you associate this scent with many, beautiful memories; but also bittersweet moments…

"Please… Javier, look at me…"

And he looked at you, his eyes reflecting the restlessness and guilt in his soul.

"I don't know where your paths have led you, Javier. But I can see that you have regretted the decision you made back then."

Javier sighed softly, unable to answer anything, but his eyes held your gaze and by God he was glad you didn't loathe him.

"I live in Strawberry, Javier. When…when you're ready for it one day, come and see me. I'll be waiting for you there."

His eyes immediately moved to your hand to see if you were wearing a wedding ring. His relief was great, because he couldn't see anything.

You tell him exactly where you live and to what address he should send letters to contact you. Hoping that he would do so.

When the signal sounded for the train's departure, you were jolted out of your trance.

"This is my train, Javier. I have to go now…"

"Okay…"

That was all he said in response. He held back a lot, because he would have loved to pull you tightly into his arms, not to let you go again. But he didn't. And part of you hoped he wouldn't let you go. Still, maybe that was too much to ask of you.

"Will you walk me to the train, Javi?"

Javi… that's what you had always called him, and this was the first time in years that you saw him smile. It was a small, dainty smile, but it was there. Javier led you to the platform, his hand was on your lower back and your body was tingling like crazy. This little touch, this little gesture, excited you deeply. It was still the man you desired, the man you loved.

"You should… get in. It's about to leave…"

"I know, Javi…"

But you would have preferred to stay with him. Your hope now was that he would seek you out…

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