Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of a hospital, alcohol, smoking, erotic photography, use of pet names, clitoral stimulation, breast/nipple play, unprotected sex, creampie, dry humping, sex in a semi-public place (no one is around), oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, cum eating
Synopsis: Seasons come and go like your love for Felix once did- but when he reappears in your life several years later, things are much different.
[this work was based off a request from @crookedt44th - thank you for requesting!]
18+. Mdni!
•
Small town at the edge of the world. 11:30am. A Tuesday in Autumn.
If you told the average person to shut their eyes and think of their favorite city, they’d probably conjure up a lengthy description about the booming skyscrapers, the bumper-to-bumper traffic, the fancy restaurants and the well-kept people. Point it out on a map, you’d tell them, and their finger would land in the heart of the amorphous blob of whatever state they’ve chosen.
Now move your finger to the right- keep going, and going, and don’t stop until you’re almost off the map entirely. There will be no major indicators, no colorful dots on this area of the map. You might miss it, in fact, if you shoot too far.
That’s the town of Ember.
A town so insignificant, the only name they could think to give it was based on the fire that plagued it almost 50 years ago, which begged the question to those in neighboring cities- who even lives there?
Famous for absolutely nothing of importance, population who-knows-these-days, nothing to do and nowhere to go.
And the place you call home.
*
“Pieces of a Dream. 1970’s.”
“Yellow,” your manager responds, and you unravel a bulky roll of discount stickers, thumbing one off the adhesive and placing it gently in the corner of the plastic-wrapped vinyl.
“The rest of those should be discounted,” he says, quickly shuffling through the stack and giving them a little slap with the palm of his hand.
He slides the stack over to you, taking his spot on the wooden stool by the register again and flipping through a stack of pages on his clipboard.
Chris, your manager, has been the owner of Ember Records for the better part of a decade now. He succeeds his father’s role as store owner, who succeeded his father’s role, back when the record shop wasn’t mostly lost to the fire. Since its relocation, it’s much smaller, so you’ve heard, only about half the shelf space available to house the generous collection of records his great grandfather used to collect and sell.
This is one of just a handful of shops around here, located in the heart of the tourist attraction that is the town’s square. Thus, you’re well-acquainted with the baristas from the coffee shop across the street, the waiters at the diner, the librarians and even the car mechanics. You’re all familiar with the businesses you run to keep this town on its feet, many of you having chosen to stay here for a simpler life.
“I dig the grays,” you tell Chris, crossing your arms as you lean against the counter and slide him the finished stack of tagged vinyl.
He sighs, cocking his head and uncapping his pen between his teeth. “They creep up on you when you least expect it. You know this shit costs like, hundreds to get dyed?”
“Leave it,” you say to him, giving a small nod as you speak. “It makes you look more mature. I mean, what does Yena think of it?”
“She loves it,” he says, catching a glimpse of his reflection in one of the glass cases and running his hands through his hair. “But she’d also love if I shaved my eyebrows off. She’ll compliment anything.”
“Then shave your eyebrows,” you say, chuckling, as you stuff your phone in the back pocket of your jeans. “You’re lucky to have a wife who’s so supportive of your decisions. I’m taking my lunch!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Chris says, laughing as he shakes his head. “Oh, and Yena left you some pie in the back room.”
“Tell her thank you!” You call over your shoulder as you make your way to the back.
The back room is just a glorified storage closet, one dingy table pushed up against the wall, one wooden chair and shelves of records that need to be pushed out to the sales floor, or should’ve just been burned in the fire. You have to duck your head to not hit it on the hanging pendant lamp, its bulb buzzing concerningly loud as you take your seat and pry open the Tupperware container Yena left for you in the fridge- cherry pie, your favorite, from the diner down the street where she works.
As you take generous bites of your first meal of the day, you shuffle through a stack of records neglected on the table from last week’s donation. There are a myriad of genres- old jazz bands, electronic records, synth pop and even a few ambient pieces. As you flip over one of the covers, Chris calls to you from the front, his voice echoing around the dingy little storage closet.
“Y/n! I need you to come help out!”
And you sigh, promptly shutting the Tupperware closed again and making your way out to the front.
That’s the thing about this job- it’s small, but it’s busy, the hundreds of records demanding your very precise attention at any given moment of the day. You live to serve the people here, suggesting records to those seeking new sounds or curiously peering at genres unknown to them. And tourists are drawn to the place, often leaving with armfuls of old vinyl to add to their collections. It’s not a town they’ll likely ever visit again, you’re well aware, but the shop allows people to take a little piece of Ember with them wherever they go. And though the lack of grandiosity might not bring them back, your attentiveness to detail and passion for music sometimes do.
*
“Coffee?” Yena asks you, as you slide into the familiar spot of your favorite booth, next to the window in her diner. She saunters over with the pot anyway, setting a little white mug down in front of you and filling the cup halfway.
“Thanks,” you reply, already tearing open packs of creamer.
At half past 8, the record shop closes in only an hour, Chris taking on the role of closing procedures in your absence. It’s a routine life you lead, tending to the record shop by day and basking in the town’s simple pleasures by nighttime. And with all the people you love in it, you have no reason to leave, no rush to migrate elsewhere.
“How’s work?” Yena asks, sliding into the booth across from you and pulling a notepad out from her apron. She flips through the pages, stopping on a blank one and adding up her tips for the evening.
“Fine,” you say to her, taking a generous sip of coffee. “Just mostly repeat customers for today. But we did have a pretty hefty donation, so that’s a plus.”
“Anything good?” She questions, without looking up from her notepad.
“Negative. A lot of older stuff I used to listen to in high school.”
Yena finishes tallying up her tips, shutting her notepad and finally meeting your gaze.
“Hey, if that’s old, then I’m ancient.”
You both laugh, and she keeps her gaze on you for a moment before speaking again.
“Gosh, I still remember when you moved here. You were so… wide-eyed. And quiet.”
“I was so lost,” you say with a small chuckle. “I don’t even think I knew how to work a record player.”
“And now look at you,” she emphasizes, gesturing to your face. “You just seem… happy these days.”
She smiles for a moment, before gathering the empty cups of creamer off the table and sliding out of the booth.
“I hope you’ll stay here, if it means you’re always going to be this happy.”
You smile to yourself as she begins back toward the kitchen, humming to herself.
“Wasn’t planning on leaving!” You call out, and without turning around, she gives you a thumbs up before disappearing into the kitchen again.
*
Some days, your shifts feel like 5 minutes. Other days, they feel like 5 days. Today is the latter, the clock on the wall above the register ticking away by the second, and yet seemingly no closer to the end of your day. You’re on closing procedures this evening, Chris and Yena having taken the day off to have a much overdue date night. And it’s empty, like it usually is on Wednesday evenings, not a soul in sight as the town tends to their own duties, the tourists all working busy jobs in the city.
You slouch your shoulders over the wooden stool, dusting off a pile of folk records and shuffling through them, admiring the intricate paintings on the covers. It’s one of your favorite things about working here- locating the beautiful paintings and photographs that graze the covers of records, all of them vastly different from one another, but equally as evocative. You trace your fingertips over what appears to be a Polish record, a couple dressed in fancy colorful fabrics as he dips her into a bow. You can’t help but wonder what the atmosphere would be like if they were here in front of you, the whole room teeming with the choral ensemble as they’d tap their fancy shoes along the tile flooring and invite you to dance, too. The thought circles your mind with a smile, and you barely hear the next customer enter when they do.
The little gold bell hanging on the door chimes just once when they enter, indicating the arrival of a man, who promptly rushes to the back shelf without so much as a hello. Welcome, I guess, you want to say, dismissing their curtness with a shake of your head as you go back to organizing records.
You shuffle to the next record, admiring the black and white photo of a man with his guitar, a panama hat atop his curly head of hair as he sings into a microphone. It reminds you of the ones your dad used to collect before he passed.
“Excuse me?” A voice interrupts, and you practically jump, startled at the way he navigates the shop without a sound. He’s right in front of the register now, holding a CD in his hands and setting it down in front of you.
“I’d like to pay,” he continues, his baritone voice sounding painfully uninviting.
Without looking up at him, you take the CD from the counter, flipping it over to scan the barcode on the front. Four Decades of Jazz, the cover simply displaying the title in funky purple block text.
“This one’s actually on clearance,” you say, sliding the CD into a small paper bag. “Just 5.”
He pulls out a brown leather wallet, flipping through crisp bills as he searches for exact change. As he does, you take notice of the collection of silver rings that decorate his shorter fingers, a few of them painted with chipping black nail polish. Your gaze fixates on a thicker silver band, carved with black fleur de lis patterns that circle the band all the way around. You cock your head slightly, mapping out the pattern in your head as his hands move, the ring glistening under a beam of light that shines through the window and sets it aglow.
“It was a gift,” the man says when he notices you staring, and he holds out his index finger, rotating his finger to give you the full view.
You say nothing, your lips parting slightly as he does, transfixed by the way the silver hugs his finger and frames his veiny hands. The man stays silent, his gaze on the ring, too, as he pulls it off with a gentle tug and holds it up for you to see.
“Do you want to see it?” He asks, pinching the band between the pads of his fingers as he rotates it under the same beam of sunlight.
“No, thank you,” you reply, your mind still in a trance. “It just… reminds me of…” and your voice trails off, finally allowing your gaze to look up and meet the stranger’s.
His big brown eyes seem to widen when you finally lock eyes, his plump lips parting open as he scrambles to pull the ring back on.
“Something,” is all you can utter, folding the brown paper bag once in your hands and sliding it across the counter. “It reminds me of somebody I used to know.”
His breath hitches his throat as he finds the words to say, unable to string together a cohesive sentence as memories run rampant in his mind, everything coming back to him like a painful wound being reopened.
“Sorry,” is all he can say, clutching the brown bag in one hand as he gives you a small nod. “And thanks. For the CD. Or for ringing me up, rather. Thank you-”
“You’re welcome,” you reply briskly, pivoting on your heel to organize a stack of already-sorted records on the shelf behind you.
And you can still feel him there for a moment, his gaze boring into the back of your head like he wants to say something. But he doesn’t, instead observing the way your hair, a little shorter than he’d previously remembered it, sways gently in its ponytail as you go about your job.
You listen to the way the brown paper bag crumples in his grasp, before he finally retreats and exits, the little bell above the door indicating his departure.
And when you turn around again, there on the counter, his silver ring sits, glistening in the waning glint of the evening sun.
*
“The lattes are so expensive out there,” Yena says, as she takes a sip from her iced coffee. “I’d drink this gas station coffee any day over that stuff.”
You chuckle lightly, shaking your head as you wipe down the counter with a rag. Chris counts change in the register beside you, muttering counts to himself as he scribbles onto his clipboard and listens to your conversations.
“But hey, we still had a good time,” Yena continues, smiling over at Chris. “Sometimes leaving this town keeps you on your toes.”
“Yeah, well, I’m on my toes enough here as it is,” you respond, the three of you chuckling lightly amongst each other.
The bell atop the door chimes once, signifying the arrival of a new customer, and Chris gestures to the door as you look up.
“All you,” he says, going back to his work.
You fold the rag neatly, setting it on the counter and making your way over to the clearance aisle where the stranger stands. His back is turned toward you, his lanky frame towering over stacks of CDs as he thumbs through them casually.
“Can I help you find anything?” You chime in, your hands behind your back as you watch him. As you speak, he turns to face you, and you breathe a deep sigh of annoyance.
“Seriously?” You say, already retreating back to the counter again and turning away from him.
“Wait,” he calls, rushing after you and standing in front of the counter awkwardly. Chris looks up from his clipboard, furrowing his brows together as Yena shoots him an equally questioning look.
“I don’t have anything to say to you,” you respond, unfolding the rag again and wiping down the register.
“Hey, hey,” Chris says, giving you a confused look.
“Don’t worry about it,” you say to Chris through gritted teeth, brushing off the interaction.
“I just wanted to-” the man begins, as he looms behind the counter, fiddling with his fingers nervously.
“Why would you come back?” You question, not looking at him still. “Wasn’t one time awkward enough?”
“I left my ring,” he finally says, dropping his hands at his sides.
Both your gazes fall to your hands, where the silver band rests comfortably on your index finger, almost like it’s always been yours.
“Yeah, whatever,” you reply, pulling it off and sliding it across the counter to him. “Here.”
He doesn’t say anything, not yet reaching for the ring, nor telling you to put it back on. A part of him is fascinated at the prospect you chose to wear it around at all.
The silence that falls over the shop is painfully awkward, Chris and Yena keeping their gazes locked between the two of you as you angrily scrub at a stain on the counter.
“Hey,” Chris says, finally pulling the rag from your grasp. “You’re scratching the wood, kiddo.”
“If no one wants that ring, give it here,” Yena says with a smile.
The ring is slowly lifted from the counter again, slid back onto the finger of its respective owner.
“We’ll give you guys a minute,” Chris says, motioning to the back room with the tilt of his head. And Yena follows him to the back, the till of the register balanced in his arms.
“What do you want?” You ask, finally meeting his gaze again. “I’m working right now.”
His face drops a little, giving you a small shrug before he speaks.
“I was just wondering how you were doing. And I thought-”
“Felix,” you say brazenly, your heartbeat quickening a little at the feeling of his name leaving your lips again after so long. “Cut the small talk. Just tell me why you’re here.”
He sighs as he fiddles with the band around his finger, the metal still warm from the contact against your skin.
“That’s it,” he explains. “I didn’t expect to see you here. And I wondered how you were doing.”
“So leaving your ring here wasn’t an elaborate plan to come back for it?”
“It… was,” he says sheepishly. “I needed an excuse to come see you again.”
“We sell records,” you emphasize. “That’s the only reason you should be here. And if it’s not, then leave.”
“Y/n,” Felix says frustratedly. His eyebrows arch up in an almost pleading manner, his lips quivering as he struggles to find the words to say.
It’s the first time you take notice of his changed appearance, completely opposite to the Felix you last spoke to. His once blonde locks are grown out, grazing over his bony shoulders, a robust shade of ebony that contrasts against his pale skin, tied up into a half ponytail. His plump lips glisten under a glossy coat of peach tint, and his freckles are almost unnoticeable from this distance. You furrow your brows to get a better look, trying to make out the beige constellations you remember so well. But you can’t locate them- not on his nose, or his cheeks or even around his eyes.
He dresses differently, too, a baggy white tank top under a black leather vest, almost too big for him as it swallows his lean figure. And he flaunts a hefty collection of silver jewelry- rings, rows of ear piercings, a chain link bracelet and layered necklaces. If you didn’t know his eyes like the back of your own hand, you might’ve not even recognized him to be Felix.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” You finally ask, your voice softening a little as he toys with the rings on his fingers.
“This is my favorite place for CDs,” he responds, his shoulders relaxing a little as he speaks. “I used to come here every weekend back in high school. I didn’t know you worked here now, I promise I’m not trying to make things weird.”
You sigh a little, shifting your eyes to the shelves and then back at him.
“Well what are you doing here now? Shouldn’t you be in school or something?”
Felix shrugs a little, his expression unchanging. “It’s complicated, I guess.” And then he furrows his brows at you, gesturing to the shop. “I could ask you the same question.”
“It’s complicated,” you reply, echoing his statement back at him. “And I’m not in the mood to indulge you with the story of my life.”
“I have time,” Felix says with a chuckle, and he’s met with your deafening silence.
“Sorry,” he follows, fiddling again with the rings on his fingers.
As you begin to ask him to leave, Chris and Yena enter from the back room again, carefully making their way toward you with hands shoved in their pockets.
“Hey,” Yena says, nudging you gently. “Everything okay, you guys?”
“Yes,” Felix is quick to chime in. “My apologies- I’m Felix,” he says with a beaming smile, holding out his hand to shake Yena and Chris’. They comply, exchanging warm smiles with him, still confused at why you seem so irate.
“I’m sorry to disrupt the peace,” Felix continues, giving them a little bow. “We’re just-”
“Old friends,” you interrupt, rolling your eyes at this act he puts on. “And he was just leaving.”
“Right,” Felix says, his lips pulling into a disheartened expression.
“Y/n doesn’t bring too many friends around here,” Chris chimes in. “What’s the rush to leave?” He chuckles as he finishes, and Yena hits him lightly as if signaling for him to stop.
“Actually,” Felix begins, and you sigh when you realize he’s not done talking yet. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner, or a coffee or something.”
“Felix, I really don’t think-”
“It’s on me if you wanna come to the diner tomorrow,” Yena chimes in. “We still have leftover pie.”
And you pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing deeply as Felix stares at you with a hopeful expression. His eyes are big, gauging your response curiously as you shift your gaze amongst the three of them. Chris watches Yena, who holds her breath as you think. And Felix’s lip seems to quiver when you open your mouth to speak.
“No dinner. Just coffee. And Chris covers my closing shift.”
*
Felix is at the diner much earlier than you are, comfortably reserving a spot for you on a table in the middle of the room and allowing Yena to fill your mugs with hot coffee. He adds three packs of sugar, two cups of creamer and a dollop of whipped cream he requests from Yena. And he waits for you patiently, stacking the spare cups of creamer into an organized pyramid, in between nervous glances out the window.
Yena wants to ask who he is exactly- why you’d seemed so off yesterday, and whether he’s here for a reason, or just to catch up as the old friends you claim to be. But she refrains, knowing to stay out of your business the way you so graciously stay out of hers.
“More coffee?” Yena asks as she approaches Felix, taking note of the near empty mug in front of him now.
“Sure,” Felix replies, shooting her a nervous smile. His hands tremble a little as he shoves the pyramid of creamers away from him, pretending to look occupied with his phone instead.
Yena fills his mug to the brim again, sliding him the mug across the table and giving him an empathetic look.
“I’m sure she’ll be here,” Yena says, nodding affirmatively. “She’s usually a little late getting off work.”
And Felix just nods, keeping his gaze on the giant glass windows. Outside, the sun has already set for the evening, darkened skies casting over the little square of Ember. The streets are sparse at this hour, just a few pedestrians who also flock here after their shifts, and the diner is fairly empty with the exception of a few young couples. Felix scans the atmosphere as he waits, observing the way everybody seems so acquainted with the place. Red vinyl booths line the large glass windows, dimly lit by hanging pendant lamps that give a yellow hue to the wooden tables below them. Each table is neatly paired with a silver napkin holder, salt and pepper shakers, hot sauce and a myriad of syrup flavors. And a bright neon red sign advertising fresh pies flickers over the kitchen, which is hidden behind silver swinging doors. It looks like something straight out of a movie, he thinks to himself, as a table nearby is served steaming plates of omelets and fries. And as Felix turns his attention back toward the glass windows, he finally sees you approaching, earbuds in and a nonchalant expression on your face. Your hair is tucked loosely behind your ears, a simple ensemble of loose fitting jeans and a sweater complementing your worn down sneakers. The bell on the door chimes as you make your way inside, a smile on your face as you talk briefly with Yena upon entering. And she gestures back to Felix, who gives a little wave from where he’s sitting, in time for his third coffee refill of the evening.
“This isn’t my table,” you say to Felix when you approach, gathering your mug of coffee and gesturing to your favorite booth against the window. Felix’s eyes flicker to the booth, a confused expression on his face as you wait for him to relocate.
“Well? Are you coming, or what?”
“Yeah, um, sorry,” Felix responds, clutching his mug in one hand and carefully bringing it across the room to the booth.
You furrow your eyes when you look back at the table, a tall pyramid of creamer cups placed where Felix was sitting.
Felix slides in the booth across from you, gesturing to your mug and meeting your gaze.
“Do you take cream? Or sugar?”
“Just two,” you say, picking your cups from the little bowl at the end of the table and tearing them open.
He nods, stirring his coffee around with a spoon as you prepare yours.
“Let me guess,” you say with a knowing smile. “8 packs sugar, 4 things of creamer and an entire can of whipped cream.”
He chuckles lightly, angling you the contents of his cup, which now contains a mixture of frothy melted cream and coffee the color of chocolate milk.
“You always did have a sweet tooth,” you respond, laughing and shaking your head. “Might as well just have a sundae while you’re at it.”
When you’re finished, you hold your mug in both hands, taking a generous sip of the steamy beverage and setting it back down with a gentle thud. Felix watches you intently, like he’s waiting for you to initiate the conversation, but you don’t, raising your eyebrows at him as you wait for him to speak.
“I’m just visiting for a bit,” Felix finally says, twiddling his thumbs on the table in front of him. “I’m doing my classes remotely this semester.”
You nod, saying nothing, as he searches for more words to say.
“Are your classes remote, too?” He continues.
“There are no classes,” you interrupt quickly, before he can press you for more information about school. “I dropped out of college.”
“You did?” Felix retorts, his eyes widening a little at how easily you admit to it. Not an ounce of shame, like it was planned from the start.
“Why?” He follows, tracing mindless patterns into the wood of the table below him.
“Because I hated it. Anything else you want to know?”
“Why are you all the way out here?”
“Because I love it here.”
“And how are your parents?”
“My dad died. Last spring. Are we done now?”
Felix swallows nervously, averting your gaze as he taps his knee nervously under the table.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
You just nod at him, pursing your lips a little and toying with the handle on your mug.
“Are you going to tell me about yourself, or do I need to play 20 questions, too?” You ask him, rolling your eyes as a smile grows on his face.
Felix chuckles lightly, relieved that you’ve already forgiven his clear overstepping here.
“I’m still in college. I’m just… undecided. I took a semester off a little while ago because I don’t know what I want to do. I haven’t actually been to class physically in… a good while.”
You nod empathetically at his words, the reality of them contradictory to the Felix you once knew. He was a straight A student when you knew him last, quick to join campus clubs and gain popularity wherever he went. People often commented on how different both of you were from each other- Felix, a bright young student who could light up a room with his smile, always so eager to ask questions and familiarize himself with the world around him. And you, a bit more reserved, your world often tainted by the reality of the hardships you’d faced, and the knowledge that life, when not lived for yourself, is often arduous.
“So you’re doing a bit of soul-searching,” you say to Felix, no stranger to the concept of tourists stopping through here to ‘start life anew’ at the sight of run-down coffee shops and bookstores. And when they find what they’re looking for, they’re gone again, like a soul could never thrive here in the town of Ember, even if it’s where it materialized.
“You could say that,” he responds, swirling the remainder of whipped cream around his cup with a spoon. “Things just haven’t been… great.”
You nod in response, averting his gaze as you study the wooden table below him.
“Well good luck,” you finally say, taking a generous gulp of your coffee and scanning the room for Yena before the conversation can go any further than the base-level declarations of your new separate lives.
“Do you remember that night we snuck out of your house?” Felix asks suddenly, just as you begin to get up.
“What?”
“It was raining. I think it was like 3 in the morning.”
You turn to face him again, narrowing your eyes as he speaks.
“I didn’t have a car at the time,” Felix continues. “So you rode on the handles of my bike in the pouring rain. We went to watch the sunrise, only we didn’t realize that of course because we were in the middle of a storm, there was-”
“No visible sunrise,” you interrupt quietly. “We just watched the clouds turn a lighter shade of gray.”
Felix grins a little as you finish, nodding his head.
“Exactly. And when we got home at 5am, your dad was already awake. And he’d never met me before- we swore he’d have it out for me. But he didn’t- he brought us blankets, and he made us tea and laughed his ass off at our stupidity.”
“There’s no sunrise in a fucking storm!” You exclaim, echoing your dad’s lighthearted lecture from so long ago.
Felix laughs with you, the warm memory circling your minds, both of you equally as endeared by the tale you so vividly remember. As your laughter dies down, Felix keeps his gaze on yours, shooting you a half smile as he speaks again.
“Your dad really loved you. And… it’s one of my favorite memories, even today.”
You hold his gaze too, clutching the handle of your mug again and giving him a small nod, your lip quivering a little at the mention of your father.
“Thanks, Felix,” you say in a melancholy tone, taking a deep breath in an attempt to hold back your tears.
When the feeling’s passed, Felix spoons another dollop of whipped cream into his cup and brings it up to his lips.
“Your hair’s shorter,” he says with a chuckle.
“Yours is longer,” you retort. “And black.”
“I’m trying something new.”
“I can tell,” you say, laughing lightly. “And what’s with all the screws and washers in your ears?”
“My piercings?” He replies. “They’re a fashion statement!”
“They look painful.”
“This one was,” Felix says, toying with the silver helix piercing in his lobe.
“And this one,” his fingers trail down to another silver stud, just below the first. “And maybe this one.”
“At what point is this just inflicting pain on yourself for fun?”
“I’m not finished!” Felix says, as you both share amused laughter. He thumbs over another row of silver studs, thinking intently as he speaks. “This one hurt, this one definitely hurt…”
*
“How was your dinner thing last night?” Chris asks in the morning, shooting you a knowing smile as he breaks a new roll of quarters in the till.
“Coffee,” you emphasize.
“Coffee,” he echoes. “How was coffee, with your old friend?”
“It was okay,” you respond, organizing a stack of records on the shelf across the counter. “Just catching up, mostly.”
“Yena said you guys were there for hours.”
“Maybe we were.”
“Hours?” Chris repeats, shaking his head. “What could you have possibly talked about that lasted hours?”
“Friend stuff,” you reply to him. “Maybe if you had some, you’d know.”
“Ouch, kiddo,” he says, clutching his chest in a joking manner as you both laugh.
As you turn to grab another stack of records, the bell over the door chimes, and your heads snap in the direction of the noise. And like you’d accidentally spoken him into existence again, Felix saunters in, a shy smile on his face. He looks a little more casual this time, in just jeans and a black t-shirt, but still different than you remembered him nonetheless.
“Speak of the angel,” Chris mutters, nudging you with his elbow as he waves at Felix.
“Hi,” Felix says cheerfully. “It’s nice and warm in here. Outside’s really cold.”
“Felix, what are you doing here?” You sigh, averting Chris’ shit-eating grin.
“What? I’m buying some CDs.”
“We have a good amount on clearance,” Chris says from where he’s standing. “Back shelf.”
“Thanks!” Felix replies, and you pinch the bridge of your nose in annoyance.
“Chris, would you give us a minute?”
And he nods, shooting Felix a thumbs up, before disappearing to the back room with a stack of papers.
“Look,” you begin, turning to Felix. “Last night was fun and all, but I’m still working a job. This doesn’t just make amends or something. It was great catching up, but respectfully, I really don’t want to see you again.”
Felix nods a little, and then he hoists something over his arm. It’s the first time you take notice of it- a black crossbody satchel, draped over one arm, his hand resting casually on the zipper.
“Then I suppose getting help for my project is a no?”
You narrow your eyes at him, gesturing to the bag with a tilt of your head. “What’s in the bag?”
“You don’t get to know if you don’t help me.”
“Just tell me.”
“Promise you’ll help me.”
“Felix-”
He holds the bag a little further away from his body, effectively shielding it from your view and shaking his head. “And it was such a good surprise, too.”
“Just tell me what’s in the stupid bag!”
Felix finally holds the bag out in front of him, unzipping it and carefully pulling out its contents. He reveals a digital camera to you, slinging the strap over his neck and holding it up to squint into the lens. “Smile!”
“What- that’s it?” You question, shielding your face from his view. “How does this pertain to me?”
“I’m photographing the town,” he replies, fidgeting with the lens in his hands. “I need some help.”
“Why would you need my help with that? I’m not a photographer.”
“Yeah but you know this town, and all of its little quirks.”
“There’s a maps app on your phone for a reason, Felix.”
Felix gets quiet again as he fidgets with the lens on his camera, doing nothing particularly useful as he prays you’ll change your answer. And he’s not lying- he does need to photograph this town, and all of its hidden gems for his creative project this semester. But he would be lying if he said having you keep him company wasn’t all he thought about when he went to bed last night, and woke up this morning and inevitably found himself back at your record shop.
“You used to be the best model,” Felix says just above a whisper, letting his camera hang loosely at his waist now. “I still have all my film photos of you.”
The room gets a little quiet as you meet his gaze, not missing the way his eyes seem to soften into a somber expression. He’s always had this way of begging- pleading for what he wants, and you’ve very seldom been able to say no to him. Seeing him stand in front of you now, heavy camera in his small hands and a dream circling his mind, you know the fact still stands true.
“If I do this for you, this is the last favor I run you.”
His lips pull into a toothy smile, his eyes forming little crescents as he nods eagerly.
“I promise. I won’t ask you for anything else.”
When Chris reenters the room, he shoots you a questioning look, which you wave off with a casual roll of your eyes.
“What time are you off today?” Felix asks, and Chris purposely nudges you as he passes by.
“Later. Just come by at closing or something.”
“Yeah, I can do that. Do you want me to bring a coffee or anything-”
“See you at closing, Felix,” you respond with a smile, and you gesture back to the door.
He nods, seeing himself out, camera firmly grasped in his two hands as he waves again through the window.
*
Felix drives the same shitty car he did when you last knew him. Its chipped navy blue exterior clashes horribly with the beige leather seats, the inside tainted by the permanent odor of cigarettes from its previous owner, Felix making futile efforts to mask the smell with pine tree air fresheners. The seatbelts are frayed, the legroom is nearly nonexistent and the live radio is completely busted, with the exception of the CD player.
“All jazz?” You question, shuffling through a neat book of Felix’s CD collection.
“Yeah,” Felix replies, two hands gripping the steering wheel as he adjusts in his seat. “They’re mostly just whatever’s cheapest.”
“I can tell,” you say with a chuckle, reaching the last page, where Four Decades of Jazz now occupies a sleeve of its own. You pop the CD into the player, turning the volume up a few notches and sitting back comfortably as the melodic tune of a saxophone fills the space around you.
“What’s this next place again?” Felix asks, as you shut your eyes and listen to the jazzy beat.
You’ve stopped at three locations already, all spots in Ember you’re particularly fond of. The old bridge that runs over train tracks, a narrow pathway into another world in late evenings. It’s always surrounded by starlings, which flock when the trains pass through and chirp songs that mirror the train’s cacophonous whistle.
The cathedral just north of your record shop, which you don’t attend regularly like the other town-goers do, but always greets you graciously with its towering stained glass windows and crested walls.
And a now abandoned grocery store just a few blocks away, the walls on the back now housing impressive graffiti murals and doodles.
“This last one is a more scenic spot,” you finally respond, opening your eyes as his car passes over a speed bump. “It’s my favorite one.”
Felix just nods as he continues driving, the road narrowing into a one-way route, the area surrounded by wet grassland and barely visible amidst the thick fog.
“What’s the whole premise of this project?” You ask him, realizing you haven’t quite figured out what part you play in this, anyway.
Felix is silent for a moment, his hands rotating over the wheel as he turns into another narrow road.
“It’s just a photography project. About observing your surroundings.”
“Why does it have to be here?”
And he smiles, chuckling lightly to himself, as he reaches a hand out and sprawls his palm over your mouth.
“You ask so many questions! You haven’t changed at all.”
You respond in muffled laughter, prying his hand off your mouth with two hands and shoving it back toward the steering wheel.
“I’m just curious!”
Your shared giddy laughter fills the car for several minutes, exchanging amused glances as he pulls into an open parking lot and circles around to look for a spot. And you let your fingertips graze along your cheek, briefly, remembering the sensation of his hand on you very well.
*
The fourth spot is a spacious grassland just past the hills, not necessarily a hidden gem by the town’s standards, but a place you discovered shortly after you moved out here. It requires hopping a fence to access, jogging down a steep dirt path and then marching back up a grassy hill to make it to your “sweet spot”- or a little dip in the top of the hill, perfect for setting up a picnic blanket and sitting upon for hours.
And of course the best part about it- the view. The whole town is visible from up here, the little buildings and shops you know so intimately an entirely different perspective from this height. Sometimes you imagine what you look like from this view- just a tiny speck of a human in a town not much bigger, crossing back and forth between your apartment, the diner and the record shop.
“You got it?” You ask Felix as he hoists himself up the last stretch of grass, balancing his camera in his hands and dusting off his jeans.
“Yeah,” he replies, coming around to occupy the spot next to you on the grass. You sit back on your hands, your legs crossed at the ankles as you take in the view you know so well. Felix sits cross-legged, toying with the lens of his camera as he prepares to snap a few photos.
“It’s nice up here,” he comments, filling the silence with the clicking noises of his camera.
“Yeah,” you respond shortly, your gaze fixed on the record shop. “It’s a pretty special place.”
He turns the lens, bringing his camera up and snapping a series of photos as you watch him out of your peripheral vision.
“How’d you find it?” Felix asks, scanning the photos and going to take another set.
“I get around,” you reply with a smile, keeping your answer short.
He takes one last set of photos, angling his camera at different sides, and when he’s done, he carefully places the camera in his carrier bag and leans back on his hands, too.
“You really have things figured out here,” Felix says a little quietly, turning to look at you while you keep your gaze straight ahead.
“I didn’t have a choice. It was up to me to keep things going.”
“And… how’s your mom?” He replies quietly.
You shake your head, adjusting your position so that you’re sitting cross-legged, too.
“I don’t know. Last I heard she was out west. New boyfriend or something.”
Felix nods reluctantly, not wanting to press the issue further.
“It wasn’t your fault,” he chimes in suddenly. “I hope you didn’t leave thinking that.”
“It’s fine,” you reply, brushing him off.
“No, listen to me,” Felix continues, turning to face you. “I know you hate talking about it. And I won’t bring it up again. But none of this was your fault. And that summer I wanted so badly to fix everything and take away your pain, and I just… I couldn’t. And I’m sorry.”
You don’t say anything to him, fidgeting with a blade of grass on the ground below you and reminding yourself to keep it together. Don’t cry. Don’t feel.
“You’re doing that thing again,” Felix says bluntly, like he can read your thoughts.
“What thing-”
“That thing. Where you don’t let yourself feel.”
“I feel a lot of things, Felix.”
“Then why haven’t we talked about it yet?”
“Talked about about what?”
“Why you left,” he finally finishes, huffing frustratedly. “Why are we not addressing it? Am I supposed to just act like it didn’t happen?”
“Felix, I really think-”
“You said you would stay and fight for what was ahead of us. And then you disappeared on me. You know how hard it was to go on with my life like you weren’t a missing person for all I knew? You didn’t even call.”
“I changed my number,” you say quietly.
“Yeah, I figured that much after three years.”
Felix gets quiet again, shaking his head as he turns his gaze back to the view. You don’t say anything for a moment, his words swirling in your mind as your heart beats erratically. There’s so much to say- so much you want to explain to him. But the words are caught in the back of your throat, dissipating with every passing second you fail to vocalize them. He glances at you again, hoping you’ll come around- but you don’t, your gaze now transfixed on the blade of grass that rolls between the pads of your fingers.
“I understand if you don’t want to talk about it,” Felix finally says. “And… I’m sorry.”
A copper sunset falls over the buildings below you, casting shadows around you that dance along the blades of grass and disappear over the rolling hills. They shift from massive charcoal forms into smaller shapes that sway with the setting sun, quick to get away from you and disappear when they graze over your seated figures.
“You know there was a fire here, like, 50 years ago,” you say to Felix, still averting eye contact.
“There was?”
“Mhm. See there?” You question, pointing out a vast, empty field and gesturing to the buildings across from it.
“It started east, and it traveled west. And everything there burned, and a few people even died.”
“Wow,” Felix responds. “I didn’t know that. That’s terrible.”
“A lot of the neighboring cities didn’t know this place existed. But when they heard about the fire, many of them came out here, just to donate and help build things back up. Even the record shop burned. The one we have now is a lot smaller.”
He nods as he listens to your story, glancing back at the town as he pictures the blazing flames that ate away most of its structure back then.
“I always think about it,” you continue. “Everyday I imagine how hard it must’ve been to pick up and build things from the ground up again. Chris’ grandfather did it, with the record shop. And the diner did it. And they’re still doing it, keeping things running the way they are.”
Felix nods again, turning to look at you as you watch the town.
“No one could’ve prevented the fire. They could pick up and move on, but things still burned before they did, and people still died.”
Felix begins to say something, his lips parting, but his breath hitches in the back of his throat, and he settles in silence as you finish.
“I’m somewhere there,” you say to him after a silent pause. “I’m somewhere between the fire and the mending.”
And he doesn’t have to say anything else, understanding that this is your way of explaining things.
As darkness begins to fall over you both, you think back to the last time you sat with him like this, on the old hill in your hometown, waiting for a sunrise that never came around. You had passed the time kissing and touching each other so desperately, speaking visions of a new life into existence and making hushed promises to embrace the end together. An end that came to fruition without him, one you ran from before could look it in its face and brave it with Felix by your side.
But here on the familiarity of your hill, looking over a town that burned like the flames inside of you do now, you know there’s good, there are people who will make the journey to help you rebuild no matter what their reservations previously were. But it also takes time, and patience, and the strength to admit things have turned to ash in the first place.
And sometimes, like this town, things and people turn to Ember, a dim glowing reminder of what happened always present still.
*
Soul-searching capital of the world. 6:00pm. On the cusp of winter.
“Think you’re ready?” You query at Felix, pulling the straw out from your vanilla milkshake to lick the other end.
“I think so,” he responds, sorting through a stack of photos on the table.
“Felix, your whipped cream,” Yena says as she turns the corner and sets a small bowl down in front of him.
“Thank you,” Felix replies with a small smile, already spooning a generous amount into his coffee.
The last two weeks have been cordial between the two of you, a sense of normalcy finally present during your time together as Felix wrapped up his photography shots and developed them at the convenience store in town. The pictures are beautiful, little precious neutral-toned glimpses into your everyday life and the town you love so much. It feels like Felix finally understands you, neither pressing you for answers anymore, nor trying to initiate anything more between the two of you like you’d feared. And although the photography sessions have spanned a little more time than you’d originally anticipated they would, you’re well aware this will all be over soon, and then you can get back to the normal, simple life you lead, without having to look introspectively at the state of things. You’re fine, and Felix doesn’t force you to think about it anymore.
“I just have to submit these, and then I’ll be done for the semester,” Felix explains.
“Are you staying in town for the holidays?” You ask suddenly, realizing you’ve never even inquired what his plans are for after this photography project is finished.
“I don’t know,” Felix responds, glancing at the stack of photos. “I don’t really have any solid plans.”
You don’t miss the way he fidgets with the ring on his finger, averting your gaze and swallowing nervously. It’s another habit Felix possesses, getting you to drag him along practically anywhere, but it’s hard to say no when he makes every effort to be so polite and forgiving.
You sigh deeply, praying you won’t regret the words before they leave your mouth.
“Look, a couple friends I have throw a party every year around the holidays. We just get together to smoke and talk. You can come, if you want.”
Felix’s expression brightens almost instantly, meeting your gaze again with big hopeful eyes and a beaming smile.
“Really?”
“Don’t make it weird,” you say, chuckling softly. “It’s just a small thing to unwind.”
“I’ll be there,” Felix responds with a nod. “And I won’t make it weird, I promise.”
“So…” Yena teases, sliding into the booth across from you and raising her eyebrows. “What’s… going on between you two?”
“Who?” You question, cocking your head slightly.
“Oh come on,” she emphasizes. “You guys are attached at the hip. We barely get girl time together anymore. He can’t just be an old friend.”
“He is,” you voice back. “We just go way back, that’s all.”
“He’s cute,” she says, glancing out the window at Felix’s lanky figure making his way back to his car. You both watch as he struggles to get his car open, yanking on the door handle a little hard and stumbling back.
“Well he’s single,” you retort with a soft chuckle. “So if you ever get tired of Chris, he’s your guy.”
“I see the way he looks at you,” Yena explains, as she pulls out her notepad and adds her tips for the evening. “Like he has stars in his eyes or something. I remember when Chris and I met, he was a lot like that.”
“Yena, we’re really not-”
“I know,” she says, shaking her head with a smile. “Feelings, feelings. Yuck. I’m just saying.”
You turn your gaze toward the window again, watching as Felix starts his car and backs out of the parking lot, strands of his ebony hair falling into his eyes as he checks behind him.
And Yena smiles, taking notice out of her peripheral vision at the stars in your eyes, too.
*
Seungmin’s annual holiday party is a tradition you joined in on the first year you moved out here. Working at the record shop your first year, you had no friends, no family and you were completely isolated from the town when you weren’t picking up shifts. He was a regular customer with a knack for old rock records, and he pitied the shifts you worked while the rest of the town mingled at their annual holiday events you’d hear so much about. An invitation to his holiday party was a big feat for you, not only because it was one of the first events you attended here, but because it allowed you to spend the holidays alongside people again, something you hadn’t done since your father’s passing. And thus, Seungmin invites you back every year, never missing a chance to talk records with you and challenge you to eggnog shots.
“I just want to pop these in the trunk really quick,” you say as you open the car door on the passenger side and gesture for the key from Felix. “I usually lend Seungmin a few spare records we have-”
Felix hasn’t registered a word you’ve said, completely entranced by the way your short skirt hugs your hips, a black leather coat thrown over your shoulders and a different pair of sneakers than he’s used to seeing. It’s much different than how he’s normally seen you, dressed down in sweaters and baggy jeans.
And Felix looks particularly dashing, too, his ebony hair tied up again to display his impressive collection of ear piercings, a fitted leather jacket hugging his slim figure and black jeans that elongate his legs. You give him a once-over as he cranes his neck from the driver’s seat and tosses you the keys, unable to verbalize his regard for your outfit. But as you make your way around the car to the trunk, popping it open and placing Seungmin’s stack of records inside, he can’t help but stare in the interior view mirror at the way your skirt rides up when you bend over, exposing a little more of your thighs and leaving little to the imagination.
The drive to Seungmin’s is only a few blocks down from Ember Records, one which Felix completes while stealing very obvious glances at you and making every attempt to calm his erratically beating heart. You pretend the glances go unnoticed, keeping your gaze on the darkened road ahead and making small talk about the party. But you don’t miss the way Felix’s voice hitches in the back of his throat when he speaks, his trembling hands turning the wheel as he pulls into the cul-de-sac and puts the car in park.
And he wants nothing more than to stay here, with you, to sit in his dingy little car and talk with you about everything that happened, to assure you that you’re not alone in your process of mending- he’ll love you through it, regardless. But as Seungmin makes his way out the front door with a red solo cup in hand, calling loudly for you, Felix knows that’s not a possibility.
“Y/n!” Seungmin exclaims, a big toothy grin plastered on his face at the sight of you. He’s a bit taller than Felix is, long legs that frame his slim torso, and a chiseled jawline that makes Felix a little jealous. His voluminous chocolate tresses fall into his eyes as he speaks, and he uses a slender hand to push them away again, shooting you another flashy smile as he chuckles lightly.
“What’d you bring me this time?” He asks, balancing the presumed cup of alcohol in one hand as he watches you retreat to the trunk of the car.
“Couple rock, some alternative and that one artist you liked last time?”
“Hell yeah,” Seungmin replies, as he takes the records from your grasp and shuffles through them eagerly.
Felix clears his throat as he stands beside you, his hands shoved awkwardly in the pockets of his leather jacket as he waits for an introduction.
“Sorry,” you voice, stepping aside and gesturing to Felix.
“This is Felix. He’s an old friend of mine.”
Seungmin hardly looks up from his stack of records, just briefly glancing at Felix and giving him a small nod.
“Hey man. Cool to meet you.”
And Felix’s lips pull into a thin-lipped smile, averting his gaze, too, as he nods.
“Yeah. Same.”
Your eyes dart between Seungmin and Felix, both of them painfully awkward as they stand beside you, avoiding eye contact like some unspoken challenge and looming over you like you’re meant to be the host.
“Should we get inside?” You finally ask, wrapping your arms around yourself and gesturing to the house with a tilt of your head.
“Yeah, sorry,” Seungmin says with a soft chuckle, still averting Felix’s gaze and pivoting on his heel to begin toward the house. Felix gestures for you to follow, trailing behind you and doing his best to steady his nerves as the three of you finally make your way inside.
The house is already crowded for the evening, people standing just about everywhere, red cups in hand and joints pinched between their fingers. They exhale white clouds of smoke as they converse amongst themselves, their eyes all tainted red, as they let all the weed and alcohol consume their consciousness and instill a calm demeanor in themselves. Felix finds himself standing a little closer to you as you approach the sofa everyone’s sitting around, their bodies lazily slung over one another as they chat and drink.
“Y/n’s here,” Seungmin says, as he passes the sofa and heads into what Felix presumes to be his bedroom, with the stack of records in hand.
“Hey!” They call in misarticulated voices. You make your rounds, greeting each of them and exchanging brief anecdotes with them, while Felix remains standing with his hands in his pockets, his eyes fixed on the way you smile cheerfully and acquaint yourself with everyone in the room.
You look so relaxed, so well-adjusted to your new life in this little town. As stories are thrown back and forth between yourself and the guests, Felix wonders how long you’ve known them to be able to converse with them to such an intimate extent. They share stories of your shifts at work, stories of previous parties, tales of past lovers they’ve had and late nights all of you spent up in this exact household. Felix can’t help but wonder what he was doing during those moments- probably studying for a test at university, or hooking up with someone he didn’t exactly care for. And by nighttime, he was likely up thinking of you- pondering where you’d gone, what you were up to. If you thought about him just as much as he thought about you.
Part of him wants to be angry, listening in on your stories like this- you’re laughing about parties, exchanging tales of difficult customers- moments that occurred while he was up waiting for you, hoping one day you’d change your mind about everything and return. Felix swore every sunset began to look the same without you there to watch them alongside him, every sunrise much bleaker than the last- even the stars he’d gaze at through his window seemed to lose their meaning.
But watching you like this, a smile that hasn’t left your face once since entering the house and the familiar sound of your harmonious laughter, he knows maybe you did the right thing, after all. Maybe Felix wasn’t a part of this plan life had for you- and perhaps, it’s time to come to terms with the fact that he never will be.
“Felix?” You question, effectively snapping him out of the trance he’s fallen into just by watching you.
“Huh?” He responds, aware that the row of guests on the couch appear to be waiting for him to say something.
“How long are you here for?” One of them repeats, his stare a little cold as he raises his eyebrows and prompts an answer out of Felix.
“Oh, uh… I’m not sure yet. Just for the holidays, I guess.”
They nod in collective unison, no one saying a word as they gauge how nervous he seems to be. And you shoot them an apologetic smile, also clocking Felix’s awkward demeanor as he remains silent and avoids carrying on with the conversation.
“Anyone got a light?” You finally break the silence, and everyone chimes in to answer, offering you joints from between their fingers and fishing colorful lighters out from their pockets. You take a seat on the rug, patting the space next to you, and Felix follows your lead, crossing his legs in the spot beside you and taking a hit from the joint you offer him.
Felix feels himself calm a little as the mellow sensation begins to wash over him, his worries dissipating as he listens to you begin to share another story with the group of people. And his mind wanders back to the past, contemplating your actions and mirroring them with the current state of things.
Three hours into the party, you’re both a little buzzed, feeling much more mellow than you had upon entering, despite taking only one hit from a joint. The room is heavy with thick clouds of smoke, the pungent smell of weed and alcohol present at every corner of the room. Just sitting here and talking gets you high, and you find yourself enjoying the company alongside Felix.
It reminds you of back then, when you and Felix used to attend parties together and run off to random bedrooms for a quick fuck. You’d often find yourself leaving early to spend time just between the two of you, hitting all your signature spots to catch sunrises or binge greasy food. And Felix feels much more relaxed around you now, making small talk with the guests and observing the way you try your hardest to include him in the conversations. As Seungmin takes another hit from his joint, he slouches back in the concave leather of the couch, his gaze darting over the two of you as Felix eyes you curiously.
“So what’s the deal between you two?” He asks, narrowing his eyes as he awaits a response.
“We’re just old friends-” Felix begins to say, but you interrupt him before Seungmin can catch the answer.
“He’s my best friend.”
Felix’s head snaps in your direction, unsure if maybe he heard you incorrectly, or if you’re genuinely claiming that Felix, whose guts you’ve hated for the better part of three years now, is your best friend.
“Best friends?” Seungmin repeats in slurred speech, and you give him a nod.
“Yeah,” you say again confidently. “He’s my best friend.”
And Felix’s lips pull into an involuntary smile, the tips of his ears turning a bright shade of red as he reaffirms your words.
When you turn to smile at him, he pats the space in front of him, extending his legs so that he’s created a spot for you to settle in. And in your buzzed, mellowed out state, you comply, scooting back and slotting yourself between his long legs, letting yourself lean back against his chest and shutting your eyes briefly. Felix reluctantly brings two hands around you, holding you a little closer to him, but you don’t protest the action, the familiar sensation of his arms around you feeling comfortable and safe like it always used to.
“I’d think you guys were fucking if I didn’t know any better,” Seungmin voices, joining a chorus of laughter as he brings the joint up to his lips again.
“So what if we were?” You retort casually, feeling the way Felix’s embrace gets a little tighter around you.
“Nothing wrong with it. It’s just easy to see through you guys. Especially the way this Danny from Grease wannabe looks at you.”
And Felix’s eyes furrow at the statement, well aware of the fact that Seungmin’s begun to get a little aggressive, but not wanting to incite anything that might jeopardize your friendships.
“I should probably go,” Felix says just above a whisper, his mouth hovering just over your shoulder so that you can hear him over all the noise.
“What? No,” you reply, turning your head to meet his gaze. His eyes are wide, his lip trembling a little as he speaks. Felix isn’t confrontational- a fact you’re very aware of.
“I don’t want to start anything-” he begins to say, and you place a hand on his forearm comfortingly.
“Then let’s both get out of here. I’m kinda bored, anyway.”
He’s surprised at the offer- and undoubtedly moved by the prospect that you’ve chosen to stick with him instead of stay here at the party with all your friends. And because he wants to spend the time with you, he doesn’t protest when you turn to voice your decisions to the crowd.
“Well Danny from Grease and I are getting out of here. So you can let your imaginations run wild since you’re so obsessed with us.”
Seungmin chuckles lightly, too stoned to ask you to stay, and candidly, to care about any of it.
“My old records are on the kitchen table,” Seungmin says, as he shuts his eyes and exhales a generous cloud of smoke. “Catch you guys later.”
*
“Where are we going?” Felix asks, as he puts the car into park and watches you unbuckle your seatbelt.
“I have to put the records I lent to Seungmin back in the shop. It’ll only take like two minutes.”
He nods in response, his gaze fixed on the darkened record shop, not used to seeing it at this hour.
“You coming?” You ask him, gesturing to the door, and Felix snaps out of his tranced state, unbuckling his seatbelt, too.
As you twist your keys and push the door open, Felix feels a bit unsettled seeing the shop at this hour. The shelves are pitch dark at the hour, the usually colorful vinyl all looking indistinguishable as they sit in stacks against each other and gather dust. The neon sign above the CD wall is shut off, not even the gentle hum of the bulb present amongst the silence. And the doorway to the back room looks like something out of a horror movie, seeming as though someone- or something, could pop out at any given moment. It feels wrong being here- and he knows he probably shouldn’t be, but he’s not in the place to leave your side just yet.
“Don’t turn on the lights,” you say to Felix when you enter, him following closely behind you. “I don’t want anyone to know we’re here.”
You begin toward the back room, glancing over your shoulder to ensure Felix is following. And he is, albeit reluctantly.
The back room is much smaller than Felix had originally anticipated it to be. It smells of paint, looking far more run-down than the rest of the store, and he’s not sure how anyone can take a lunch break back here considering the lack of table space and seating options.
“This is the break room?” Felix asks, squinting his eyes when you pull the chain beside the medallion lamp and illuminate the room with a dim, orange glow.
“Yeah,” you reply, now shuffling through Seungmin’s old records and putting them in their respective genres. “This is where I eat my sandwiches.”
He chuckles softly, running his hands over the series of music posters pinned to the cork walls, taking in the view you see everyday at noon.
“There’s a record player in here!” Felix exclaims, bending down to examine the 6200 marantz wood turntable on a little cart, just to the left of the dining table.
“Well this is a record shop, you reply with a chuckle, slotting the last few of Seungmin’s vinyl into the shelf. “It wouldn’t make sense if we didn’t have one.”
“Does it work?” Felix asks, tracing the silicone grooves of the platter with his fingers.
“Of course,” you respond, finally turning around to meet his gaze. “Pick something.”
Felix scans the shelves at the neat rows of vinyl, all packed together and indistinguishable from their thin colorful spines alone. He pulls one out, examining illustrations of flowers on the cover, and then slots it back into its respective home. Another flaunts an abstract pattern of cool-toned hues, which Felix observes briefly, and places it back where it belongs, too.
“I can’t decide,” he voices plainly, his eyes scanning over the rows that span the entire length of the room, some of them visibly much older than the rest.
Your fingers graze the spines, too; letting the cracked ridges serve as indication of their age, and then you pinch one between the pads of your fingers, pulling it out to examine the cover. It’s painted sky blue, with images of autumnal trees that stand tall and contrast the gentle hues nicely. In bold red cursive text, the title is scrawled at the top, followed by a brief list of credits and arrangements.
“The Seasons, by Tchaikovsky,” you read aloud.
You recall putting this one on the shelf after a donation a few weeks prior, never having listened to it yourself.
“Will you play it?” Felix asks, and you nod your head in response, already pulling out the black disc and placing it neatly on the record platter. You flip it on, and then bring the tonearm to a random spot, letting the cue lever lower it into place and begin playing. After a few seconds of fidgeting with the volume, the soft sounds of piano begin to fill the room, a somber arrangement that slows into gentler, discoordinate notes.
“This one’s probably winter,” you say to Felix, hoisting yourself up on the table and sitting on your hands. “It sounds sad.”
“Yeah,” he responds, his eyes fixated on the slow turn of the disc, a soft crackling noise emitting as the tonearm runs over the grooves.
Felix suddenly reaches for the bag slung over his shoulder, unzipping the pouch and pulling out his camera.
“What are you doing?” You ask with a soft chuckle, amused at the way he so quickly rushes to adjust the settings.
“I want to take a picture. It’s a nice record player.”
And with the rhythmic click of the lens, he snaps a series of photos, angling himself a bit higher to capture every moving part of the old thing. When he’s finished, he examines the photos himself, a small smile tugging at his lips as he looks over the moment in time captured so perfectly on the little screen of his device. Without warning you, Felix then holds the camera up once more, snapping a quick photo of you and chuckling softly to himself.
“Stop!” You say through laughter, holding a hand up to shield your face as he snaps a few more. “Felix, I’m serious!”
“It’s just for me!” Felix exclaims, bringing his camera down again and scrolling through the candid photos.
As he examines them, you notice how close he is to you now, standing in between your legs that hang lazily off the edge of the table, his frame towering over yours.
He meets your gaze again after a moment, taking notice of the proximity, too, and swallowing nervously.
“You used to let me take pictures of you,” Felix says after a moment of silence.
“That was so long ago,” you reply with a smile. “Things are different now.”
His eyes dart over your bare face, your eyes a little hooded from exhaustion and the mellowed state that overtake your body. It’s a sight familiar to him, still, the way you keep your words short when you’re not asking him questions, nothing except a small knowing smile on your face. But it’s one he’s thought about for so long, painting pictures of you in his head and scanning old photos, like your physical state would somehow come to fruition the more he studied it.
“Please let me take a few more,” Felix says, his voice dropping an octave as his eyes flicker between your lips and your gaze. He knows you’re going to say no, go away, or some other version of it.
But this time, you don’t, taking careful note of the way he so politely asks for what he wants. Memories of him have plagued your mind all night, the feeling of his hands around you still lingering on your body, recalling the way he used to ask so politely to fuck you in the bathroom of house parties like you wouldn’t say yes every single time.
And in the absence of your words, you slide your coat off, discarding it on the table behind you and keeping your gaze locked on his, in just a tight-fitting t-shirt and skirt.
Felix brings his camera up immediately, lest you change your mind like he knows you probably will, and adjusts his lens again, before snapping a single photo of you, sitting so innocently on the table in the back room of the record shop. Your expression remains unchallenged, your eyes softening a little as he pulls away to look at you again. And this time, you let two hands cross over your torso, pulling up the corners of your shirt and letting it ride up until it’s nearly off of you. Felix doesn’t waste any time, bringing his camera to eye-level again and snapping a photo eagerly, his eyes wide as he observes the sight of your hardened nipples through the lens.
The discoordinate piano music still plays from behind him, its tempo increasing gradually as you let one hand position itself over the mound of your breast, kneading gently as Felix positions his camera to zoom in. He snaps another set of photos, bringing his camera even closer to capture you at every erotic angle, and then he pauses briefly, as your hands move to your skirt.
You tug gently, not yet pulling it off, and his photos capture the moment you finally undo the small zipper on the side, revealing the hem of your lace panties to him and looping a finger through them. He feels his breath hitch in his throat, wanting to clarify that he’s not forcing you to do any of this, but too mesmerized to ask you to stop.
And then before he can verbalize his thoughts, you’re tugging the skirt down, too, pulling it off over your sneakers to discard it on the floor below you. Felix can’t look away from the sight, your body hugged so delicately in lace lingerie, your legs parted a little for his photos and practically begging him to come touch you. And yet you say nothing, amused at the sight of Felix gasping over your sitting figure, letting him take the reins and do whatever it is he pleases, even if the implications are clouded by your past.
Felix’s slender hands snap a few more photos, focusing meticulously on your clothed core and your hardened nipples for his own personal use. And then he sets his camera down at his waist again, pulling the camera strap off his body and shoving it back into his satchel. When he turns to say something, he can’t, still entranced by the familiar feeling in his stomach at the body he’s bore witness to so many times.
“Felix,” you say softly, coaxing him to come a little closer.
He obliges, lips parted nervously, as he takes another step forward and allows your legs to rest casually on his.
“I meant to ask you,” you say, cocking your head slightly, bringing one hand up to caress his cheek with your thumb.
“Yeah,” he says, his voice just barely above a whisper. “Anything.”
“Where have all your freckles gone?” You finally ask, observing the way his skin still runs completely clear around his cheeks and eyes, not a hint of a galaxy visible to you, even at this proximity to him.
“Makeup,” Felix responds with a soft chuckle. “They didn’t match my new look.”
And you bring your other hand to his other cheek, grazing your thumbs over his soft skin, before pressing down a little harder and wiping the foundation off of him. He’s right- the beige stars you’d remembered so well begin to appear once again, scattered generously across his button nose and his big eyes. He lets you rub it off of him, not taking his eyes off of yours as you rid him clean of the stuff and then graze your thumbs over him again, in much gentler motions.
“That’s better,” you reply, your eyes darting between his now visible freckles and his plump, parted lips. “They’re my favorite part about you.”
And Felix doesn’t respond, his mind running rampant with thoughts and intentions, as he brings his lips a little closer to yours and finally kisses you, like he’s been dreaming of doing all winter.
You reciprocate instantly, your hands cupping the back of his neck as his lips work against yours, desperately leaning into you and letting his hands snake down the sides of your waist. His kisses are familiar, so reminiscent of years past when he’d kiss you exactly like this, in the proximity of whatever house party bathroom you could run off to and let him have his way with you. And Felix remembers the sensation all too well, this mutual pining of silently yearning for each other in the presence of other strangers until he could confess his love to you through whispered love making sessions when you were finally alone. Felix whimpers softly between kisses, as your hands snake up his t-shirt and graze along the toned flesh of his abdomen. You hum in response, letting your hands tangle in his hair now as he presses further into you and works gentle kisses down your neck. Both your hands find his silky ponytail, pulling off his hair tie in one swift motion and tossing it aside so that his long tresses hang loosely in front of his face, and you tangle your fingers in his ebony roots, tugging slightly as you pull him into your embrace and feel him trail back up to your lips. He pulls away momentarily to gauge your expression, worried you might ask him to stop, but your eyes are wide with anticipation, your breaths labored as you pull him into you again and arch your back into him. You can feel Felix smile into the kiss, satisfied with the turn of events from tonight's party- he’d been so certain you would leave with Seungmin, or shut him out again. But here in the dimly lit room of the record shop, your lips on his as your hands trail lower to unbuckle his belt, there’s no denying you want this just as badly as he does.
And Felix can’t help but wonder how long have things been this way- had something changed at the party? Something that would’ve led you to call him a “best friend” rather than an old one, leave the party with him and even drag him to the record shop after hours, knowing very well you could’ve come alone? Something that instilled an equal sense of desperation in you, to want his lips on yours as badly as he does right now, your bodies yearning for each other like you once did, as you undo his belt buckle and snake it out from his belt loops to discard it on the floor?
He’s not entirely sure- but he also can’t think straight when your hands are tugging at the hem of his jeans, begging him to take them off and mirror the same level of undress you are now. What he can think about are your lips working against his, the gasps that escape you when he grazes his fingers down your sides between kisses and the forte echo of Tchaicovsky’s piano record filling the room with sultry harmonies.
As Felix unbuttons his jeans, you help him tug them down so that they’re pooled around his ankles, the two of you now equal parts undressed and grabbing desperately at the now exposed flesh. You let your hand find Felix’s, wrapping your fingers around his slender wrist, and then bringing it to your panties, where you rest his hand against your clothed core and allow him to graze over your growing wetness.
“Jesus,” Felix exhales, pressing his middle and ring finger down against your core and rubbing in slow, back and forth motions. “I forgot how horny you get when you smoke.”
And you chuckle lightly, not breaking eye contact as he continues to rub you over your lace panties, the wetness against your thin fabric increasing with every gentle movement of his fingers.
“Will you do something about it?” You ask sweetly, one hand reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.
Felix cocks his head slightly, a smug expression pulling on his lips as he works you a little faster now.
“What do you want me to do about it?”
You chuckle in response, growing impatient as he teases your aching clit over the fabric of your panties and keeps his gaze on yours. He’s calculated with his movements, rubbing in gentle motions, pressing down firmly with every other stroke to watch the way your legs squirm desperately around him and ache for more.
“Don’t make me ask,” you say shyly, your hips rutting toward him to chase the friction of his fingers.
Felix’s gaze drops to your core, his lips parted with curiosity at the sight of you now rocking gently toward him, letting your movements do the pleasing as he almost entirely stops rubbing you.
“What if I wanted you to ask for it?” Felix says briskly, a serious expression on his face as he pulls his hand away from you momentarily.
“Felix, you already know what I-”
“Ask for it,” Felix interrupts, keeping his gaze locked on yours now. His eyes are hooded with lust, his eyebrows slanted in a challenging expression as he waits for you to say something. And he knows he’s never been one to make you ask for it- in fact, he was usually the one doing all the begging, whining when you’d take too long to touch him or begging you to let him finish. But coupled with the recent development of his new look, you can’t help but wonder if it’s not the only thing that’s changed about him.
“Ask for it,” Felix states again. “Or I’ll get dressed again.”
And you can’t bring yourself to, still riddled with questions at the peculiar phenomenon of Felix making you ask for sex, desperate to ask if this is a one-time occurrence, or if he’s intent on getting you to beg for his cock from here on out. Does he make all his hookups beg for it like this? Do they oblige without question, or are they just as taken aback with it as you are?
When Felix takes note of your silence, he doesn’t waste another second, pulling up his jeans again and beginning to work the buttons once more. And you feel your heartbeat quicken at the sight, disheartened at the action and still desperate for him to touch you, to fuck you, like your body’s been craving the past hour you’ve been back here.
In a desperate attempt to stop him, your hands reach out, grasping his wrists in yours and watching the way his cock remains tented under the denim fabric of his jeans.
“Please,” you say shortly, a sheepish pout on your face.
“Please what?” He responds, cocking his head to gauge your reaction.
“Please would you fuck me?” You finally say, exhaling frustratedly and flickering your gaze away from him, almost embarrassed to be asking him like this. But Felix’s lips pull into a toothy grin, leaning back into you for a kiss and beginning to work his jeans off of him again.
“Was that so hard?” He mumbles against your lips teasingly.
“Mhm,” you murmur back against him, hearing his jeans pool around his ankles once again as his hands cup around the small of your back.
“It was?” Felix queries, one hand looping through the hem of your panties and grazing along the elastic. “If I remember correctly, we used to play this little game all the time.”
You gasp a little as he pulls the elastic between the pads of his fingers, letting it snap against your delicate skin again and rest against your reddened skin momentarily. Felix observes the way you say nothing, waiting for him to undress you, touch you- anything, without so much as a plea for him to do so. And he’s undeniably roused seeing you this desperate for him, adjusting your position on the table to calm your pulsating core, your hands searching for him and your lips trying so hard to keep purchase on his. Felix feels his cock swell at the confirmation that perhaps you have been thinking of this just as much as he has, and that maybe leaving was the hardest thing you ever did, the way he always hoped it was.
“Are you sure about this?” Felix asks before he can ponder the words.
And in painfully slow movements, you find the hem of your elastic waistband yourself, tugging it down and breaking away from the kiss to snake it off your ankles and discard it onto the floor. The sight alone is confirmation enough for him- your pussy is glistening with wetness, your folds coated generously in your own arousal and your aching clit a robust shade of pink as you wait for him to finish his little game of neglect. Felix can’t even respond at the sight of your cunt on display for him, too engrossed in the familiarity of what it looked like all those past years, exactly like this, begging for him and only him. On the counters of bathroom sinks, in empty fields, in the back of your car and even when his fingers were shoved in it under blankets in a room full of people. Always taking him so wholly and effortlessly, like your cunt was made to have him fill it, squirming around him with hushed moans and whimpers, your bodies intertwining into one tangled mess of pleasure and pure, unadulterated love for one another.
“Felix, please fuck me,” You repeat, a small smirk on your face as you watch Felix stumble over his words, his cock fully erect in the fabric of his boxers.
And Felix can’t answer you, already attaching his lips to yours again and letting his hands come around your back to unclasp your bra. His motions are much quicker now, no lingering intention to make you ask for it or confirm your stance- but every intention to fuck you, fill you, like he knows you deserve.
When your bra is unfastened, he tosses it aside, letting his hands find the mounds of your breasts and kneading them with steady motions. You moan into his mouth as he works you, your legs wrapping around his hips to press his clothed cock into your wetness and grind softly against you. Felix winces at the sensation, doing his best to stave off a premature orgasm while you rut your hips gently against him and let your head fall back in pleasure. And mirroring the pleasurable sensation of his thumbs rubbing circular motions over your nipples, he brings his mouth down to your chest, taking a breast in his mouth and sucking with little whimpers. Your head comes forward to meet his gaze again, his big, innocent eyes locked on yours as he takes the flesh between his lips and swirls his tongue around your nipple. His plump lips remain locked around your mound, alternating between gentle kisses and then back to sucking on your nipple, like he might coax fluids out of it if he tries enough. And he looks so guiltless, so incorrupt as he lets his eyelids flutter shut and your nipple graze his teeth. His actions almost don’t match this darkened, grunge appearance he now sports- and you swear you can still see the blonde locks that once framed his wide eyes and his bright appearance.
As Felix moves to your other nipple, you wrap your legs tighter around him, swaying your hips in gentle rocking motions to stimulate his clothed erection against your wetness and provide some relief to both of you. And he arches his eyebrows up in pleasure, stifled moans escaping his lips as he finally releases your breast from his mouth, a string of saliva connecting you still, as his gaze drops to his boxers.
Hard- he’s unbearably hard underneath his boxers, the tip of his cock kissing the constraining fabric of his boxers that ruts against your exposed clit and sends waves of pleasure through both your listless bodies. And Felix knows if he doesn’t fuck you now, he might finish at the sight of you alone, your cheeks flushed a dark shade of pink and your cunt arching desperately into him as you wait for him to undress. So he does- one hand finds the elastic waistband of his black boxers, pulling them over his cock and wincing as it grazes against the precum dribbling down his tip. You run your hands over his toned abs, letting your eyes meet his cock as it protrudes so eagerly for you, and it looks almost painful how hard he is for you, reddening at the tip and dripping with beads of his preemptive arousal.
Felix leans in to kiss you again, and as he does, the bare flesh of his cock finally grazes your clit, running smoothly over your arousal and making you clench around nothing. You gasp at the sensation, scooting closer to him as your clit finally gets some attention from him, and Felix smiles as he trails his kisses down to your neck. While he sucks little bruises along the flesh there, he brings a slender hand around the base of his cock, guiding his tip back to your clit and rubbing his length along your flesh with more pressure now, a fervent moan escaping your lips as he does. He glides so effortlessly along you, your arousal allowing him to move so freely against you, still eager for him to fill you up. And when his lips move back up to yours, his hand guides his tip back and forth again, now rubbing against your clit in steady motions. He mimics the way his fingers stimulate you, only it’s better like this, your cunt contracting as you prepare to take his length.
“Felix,” you whine, as his cock rubs back and forth over your wettened entrance.
“What is it?” He coos gently, smiling into you as saliva dribbles between your hungry mouths.
“Put it in,” you order plainly, parting your legs a little further to signify what it is you want so badly. And Felix already knows, pressing his tip into you just a mere centimeter to gauge your reaction, satisfied at the way you whimper and push yourself against him even further.
“Is this what you want?” Felix muses, holding his base to keep from sliding into you involuntarily.
“Yes,” you whine again, tangling your hands in his hair. “Just fuck me like you used to.”
And Felix feels his heartbeat quicken as the filthy memories grace his mind again, images of you exactly like this.
He says nothing, opting to end his teasing streak, as he finally steadies his hands on the sides of your waist and pushes into you, your sopping pussy taking him with complete ease. You let out a fervent moan at the feeling, your cunt clenching desperately around him as he works to bottom out inside of you and find his footing. His girth takes little to adjust to, but he’s long, taking a good minute or two until the base of his cock is disappearing inside of you and being coated in your arousal. Before even moving, his tip is grazing your cervix, the familiar feeling making your stomach turn with anticipation as you remember what it feels like.
Felix’s lips part in pleasure, his eyebrows arched up as he pulls out again and then thrusts just once, relishing in the way your pussy contracts around him again and takes him so perfectly. Your hands find purchase in his hair again, tangling in his ebony roots, as he pulls out a little, and then begins to move. His cock fills every inch of you so well, grazing every corner of your dripping cunt with such fullness, as his wet kisses work against your lips and coat your mouth in his needy saliva. Felix has always been a particularly vocal lover, you remember, as the room fills with his deep grunts and moans at every thrust. His fingers dig into your flesh, holding onto you with strength as your legs wrap around him to steady yourself and push him into you fully. Your bodies one again, your limbs tangled until it's discernible who is who atop the table like this. But when he slows his movements and kisses you tenderly, you don’t care about the implications, about the past or what this will mean for your future. All you care about is Felix inside of you like he used to be for most of your relationship, making up for all this wasted time as he fucks you and breathes heavy grunts into the shell of your ear.
“God, I missed this,” Felix breathes, his voice shaky as he continues to pump into you.
“Me too,” you moan back, lining his jaw with kisses as he moves a little faster.
“You used to let me take pictures of you,” Felix repeats for the second time this evening. “You remember? Used to touch yourself while I’d snap photos of you. God, the way your fingers would disappear into your tight little pussy. Had me begging to fuck you at the end of every session, baby.”
“I remember,” you voice back in labored breaths. “You’d fuck me so well. All you had to do was adjust that stupid lens and you had me dripping for you.”
“Fuck, baby,” Felix groans, shutting his eyes as he thrusts a little harder. “Gonna make me cum for you.”
“Yeah?” You echo, wrapping your legs a little tighter around him and crossing them at the ankles. “Will you fill me up like you used to?”
Felix nods as his eyes remain squeezed shut, the room teeming with the squelching sounds of his cock thrusting in and out of your cunt.
“Come on, baby,” you plead, one hand angling his face toward you to press repeated, chaste kisses to his lips. “Fill me up. I know you want to.”
“I do want to-”
“Cum for me,” you order, grazing your free hand over his abdomen and tracing little circles over his v-line.
And Felix’s cock twitches inside of you twice, signaling his nearing finish as he quickens his pace again, now fucking you with even more force and hitting your sensitive cervix with every thrust.
“I’ll let you take whatever pictures you want,” you say to him as you pull him close and nibble the lobe of his ear. “As long as you fuck me like this every time you’re finished.”
And the promise is all it takes for Felix to reach his orgasm, his cock twitching inside you once more before he spurts ropes of his warm cum inside of you, filling your cunt with copious amounts of his arousal for you and fucking every last drop back into you. Your pussy contracts at the sensation of his warm cum grazing your insides, reaching your finish, too, as he brings a hand to rub your clit through your release. The table below you is sticky with your juices as you steady your breathing, Felix bringing a hand around the base of his cock to pull out of you and rest limply against your pulsing, sore entrance.
The room around you is quiet again, the gentle buzz of the pendant lamp replacing your moans as you let your hands wrap around him and hold him in your embrace. Felix presses a series of tender kisses to your forehead as you remain, his slender hands moving strands of sweaty hair out of your forehead to replace them with his loving kisses.
And the record has run through all its seasons now, having ended several minutes ago, as the needle runs over the last groove in repetitive clicking sounds, an indication to flip it over.
*
A precious town once set ablaze. 4:00pm. Spring on the horizon.
“To have hysteria or mania. 7 letters.”
Felix thinks for a moment, his eyes darting up to the ceiling and then back to where Yena is sat across from him.
“Madness?”
She glances over the crossword puzzle once, counting empty little boxes, and then begins to pen in his answer.
“How are you so good at this?” Yena asks, shaking her head. “You could be on a crossword puzzle reality show. If that exists.”
He chuckles lightly, observing as Yena checks her watch, and then shuts the book in front of her.
“My break is almost done,” she says as you chew on a French fry. “I’m gonna catch the bathroom really quick. You guys need anything?”
“I’m good,” you chime in, and Felix shakes his head from across you.
“Thank you,” he says politely, shooting her a little smile as she slides out of the booth and back toward the kitchen.
Felix’s gaze turns back to you now, a smile on his face as you nibble the remainder of the french fry, cocking your head at his curious gaze. He doesn’t say anything, but you feel his sneaker glide gently up your ankle, grazing your bare skin with the sole of his shoe and shooting you a knowing smile.
“Felix, not here,” you say, pushing him away gently with your own shoe and letting your soles rest atop his laces.
“That’s not what you said this morning,” Felix says, swirling half-melted cubes of ice around in his glass of water.
“Harder Felix, harder!” He mimics quietly in a high-pitched voice, as he brings his glass up to his lips and takes a generous sip.
You stomp on his laces as he chuckles between sips of water, dribbling a stream from his lips when you kick him lightly in his ankles.
Don’t fuck your exes.
Advice that anyone with half a brain would give you- and advice you really should’ve taken to heart. But you can’t help it, finding yourself between the sheets with Felix nearly every night for the past two weeks, his lips all over yours and pleasuring you better than you’d ever remembered it. You tell yourself you’re just making up for lost time, both of you still young and naive, all of this over once he actually leaves for college again. He stayed for Christmas, gifting you a new pair of canvas sneakers and fucking you while reruns of Christmas rom-coms played in the background of your apartment. He was your New Year’s kiss at Seungmin’s party, where you swore again that the two of you weren’t dating, forcing you to press your lips to his only when you were sure the others weren’t paying attention at the drop of the ball. And when you’re not picking up shifts at the record shop, you’re with him every waking second of the day, keeping Yena company during her shifts as you feign your giddy attraction to him while she’s not looking.
We’re not dating, you’ve emphasized to Felix several times, and he doesn’t fight it, giving you a knowing nod as he utters a repetitive yeah, yeah. But it’s mostly because he knows you can’t say no to him, not when he’s bringing you slices of pie at work and burning CDs with all his favorite songs for you, slipping them into your bag without you even noticing until you’re home again. Of course there’s the physical factor, too- Felix is undoubtedly your best sexual partner, and he always has been. He’s quick to recognize when you’re aroused, slipping away with you in the backseat of his car to pleasure you, without any protest from you. He’s also understanding of all your intimate moments together, not fighting it when you remind him this is just temporary, all while he’s thrusting into you on the back room table of the record shop at late hours of the night. He just smiles against your bruised skin, reminding you that you have yet to push him away yet. And when he’s holding you in the gentle embrace of your afterglow, pressing kisses to your skin and reminding you how beautiful he’s always thought you are, he’s right- you don’t push him away from any of it. Maybe it’s the physical factor, maybe it’s little acts of service he performs to win you over. And perhaps it’s also because you don’t feel so lonely for once- the last time he was beside you like this, you still had a family, one that loved Felix like their own and encouraged this shared life with him. You still had dreams of being something bigger, aspirations while you were in school and visions of a life with Felix, because back then, he was always a part of your plan. And though things are different now, his beaming smile and lighthearted jokes serve as a reminder of a simpler time, and it feels right. So you don’t push him away- it’s a secret kept between the two of you, but he’s here with you, regardless.
“Will you let me take some photos of you today? ” Felix inquires, flipping through the book of crossword puzzles left on the table by Yena. You watch as he adjusts the familiar fleur de lis ring on his finger before uncapping a pen and filling in one of the words.
“I have an early shift tomorrow,” you reply, toying with the crumpled straw wrapper in front of you.
“I won’t be long,” Felix retorts.
“I know, Felix, but I have to get up really early tomorrow and I-”
“Let me take you out,” Felix says, not looking up from the crossword puzzle in front of him. “Just tell me where.”
You sigh, scanning the empty tables around the diner. There are only a handful of guests at this hour, most of them elderly folk chatting quietly amongst themselves. A slow jazz tune plays overhead, and sunlight beams through the large window beside you as Felix finishes penning in an answer, shutting the book again and folding his hands in front of him to meet your gaze.
“I have something for you,” Felix adds.
“You don’t have to buy me gifts, Felix.”
“I’m aware. But this one’s special for me, too.”
“What is it?”’you ask, a growing curiosity at his words.
“I don’t have it with me. You’ll have to let me give it to you later today.”
You sigh, crossing your arms in front of you and rolling your eyes sarcastically. He’s always known how to get exactly what he wants.
“Just this one time,” you reply, knowing you sound like a broken record at how many times you’ve sworn it to be just one more time.
“Just this one time,” Felix echoes, toying again with the ring on his finger.
And you nod reluctantly, agreeing to whatever he’s planned, for the purpose of pleasing him and because you’re unable to decline.
As he flips open the book again, he uncaps the pen once more, picking up where he left off and reading the question aloud to you.
“A discussion aimed at reaching an agreement,” he voices, nibbling the cap of his pen again.
“Negotiation,” you say, observing the way a smile grows on his face as he pens in your answer.
“That’s it,” he says, gripping the pen enthusiastically as he crosses out the question.
And the sole of his shoe grazes your ankle again, trailing up your flesh teasingly as he moves onto the next.
*
“Where’s she going?” Felix queries, reaching into the bowl of popcorn in his lap to grab another mouthful.
“I don’t know,” you respond, chuckling at the way he shoves a generous portion into his mouth and chews loudly.
“Is she leaving him?” He says, pausing his chewing as the main lead in the movie makes a dramatic exit on screen.
“Felix, I’ve never seen this movie either,” you state, chuckling as he finally resumes his chewing and brushes stray kernels off his shirt.
He reaches into the bucket again, gathering a generous handful of popcorn, and then he sprawls his hand over your mouth, pushing the popcorn into your still-laughing mouth as he moves a little closer to you.
“You argue too much!” He says between giggles, throwing his head back as he watches you try to down the handful, failing as loose kernels find purchase on your shirt, too.
You reach out to shove him playfully, and Felix intertwines his hands with yours, pulling you onto his lap as the bucket of popcorn is promptly set aside and neglected.
He doesn’t even give you time to finish chewing before his lips are on yours, kissing you with such tenderness and warmth. It’s moments like these you find yourself glad he’s here with you, grateful for his unwavering persistence to account for lost time and make amends. Of course you also know he’ll be gone soon, back to university to proceed with his education while you tend to the record shop. And you’re undoubtedly a little sad about it- but you also know it’s the way things have panned out to be. Felix has blossomed into the bright young soul you always knew he was, filling the shoes of a generation of good-natured people that came before him. He’s generous, and unselfish in his ways, and a part of you knows that leaving him was the best thing that could’ve happened to both of you.
Was sleeping with him a mistake after all this time? You would’ve answered yes in a heartbeat, at the first instance it happened, feeling you might accidentally led Felix on and ruined things between the two of you. But the more it happened, the more it affirmed the beautiful notion that he’s just a fleeting part in this process of mending- your souls intertwining to relive memories of simpler times, connecting like they had when you once belonged together. He gives himself to you as a way of saying I’m still here, if you need me. And you give yourself to him to respond I know, and I’m still healing.
“You want your gift?” Felix asks as he pulls away, his hands grazing the small of your back.
“Depends,” you say with a small smile. “If it’s anything like your gift this morning, then yes.”
He chuckles softly, caressing the dimples in your lower back as he sits up and nods in the direction of the kitchen counter.
“I’ll go get it. Be right back.”
And you slide off of him, crossing your hands between your thighs as he exits the room, the soft-spoken dialogue of the movie still playing as he shuffles about in your apartment kitchen. When he returns, his hands are behind his back, a smile plastered on his face and his eyes forming little crescents as he approaches you.
“You have to close your eyes,” he says, kneeling down and sitting cross-legged in front of you. “And put out your hands.”
You oblige with an equally endeared smile, closing your eyes and cupping your hands in front of you. Felix seems to get something situated in front of you, and then you feel him place something small in the palm of your hand. It’s cold to the touch, no bigger than an inch, and he positions it so that it’s centered perfectly in your hand.
“Now open,” Felix finally says, pulling his hands back and folding them in his lap.
You do as you’re told, your eyes fluttering open again and your gaze falling into the palm of your hand. And your heart melts instantly at the sight-
It’s a ring- his ring, the silver fleur de lis one he always catches you staring at.
“I can’t take your ring,” you say, your wide eyes meeting the crescents of his eyes that remain as he grins.
He holds his hand up, flashing you his own fleur de lis, and wiggles his fingers to show it off.
“It’s not mine,” Felix says. “I got you your own.”
And you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes, doing your very best to pull back and avoid crying in front of him. But Felix takes notice at the way your face contorts sadly, scooting closer to you and taking your hands in his.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, his face full of concern as you examine the ring.
“Nothing,” you’re quick to respond, sniffling and rotating it between the pads of your fingers. “I just…”
Felix waits for you to answer, giving your hand a little squeeze as you struggle to find your words. He knows that verbalizing your feelings isn’t exactly your forte, giving you time to think over the action and speak when it feels right to you.
“Your ring,” you say with a soft chuckle. “It was a gift from my dad.”
His expression turns serious, holding up his index finger to rotate it around in front of you. “This one?” He inquires.
“Yeah,” you respond with a smile. “The one I gave you before we broke up. I know I’m not the best with my words, but I never got to say thank you. You stayed up with me the night they told us he was nearing the end. And again when my mom left. And somehow you found me in this shitty little town, and I like to think it’s so that I can properly thank you for everything. That’s why I wanted you to have the ring.”
Felix can’t properly reciprocate with a kiss while he’s sat below you like this, but he brings his lips forward to kiss your knee tenderly, staring up at you through innocent eyes and humming against your flesh.
“You were not alone,” he says, pressing another kiss. “You’re never alone. I would do it all over again.”
And you smile down at him, as he takes the ring from the palm of your hand and slides it onto your ring finger, an unspoken promise that he’s always going to be here to help build you up again, regardless of your reservations or your conditions. That just like this town lost itself so many years ago, there’s always a way to build things back up again, you just have to hold onto the hope that it’s possible.
“I love it,” you say, examining the way it sits around your fingers just like his does. And Felix doesn’t answer, pressing more kisses on the pads of your knees and using a hand to part your knees slightly. You take note of the way he keeps his eyes shut as he trails kisses, relishing in the way you give into his actions, laying back to part your knees and observing his eager state.
“Can I take a picture of you?” Felix asks shyly, his eyes darting over your visible crotch as your skirt rides up. You shoot him a little nod in response, gesturing for him to go get his camera, which he wastes no time doing, pulling it out of his black carrier bag and slinging it over his neck. Felix sits cross-legged in front of you again, watching intently as you flip your skirt up and let your fingers graze over your soaking panties. Your new ring glints in the dim glow of the overhead lamp, glistening as you rub your clit over the thin fabric of your underwear and stare into the lens of his camera.
Felix clicks a set of photos, his breath hitching in the back of his throat at the sight of you tugging on your panties and spreading even further for him. You make a big show of staring innocently into his lens, your eyebrows arched in curiosity as you toy with your waistband and tug it down a little further, your hips swaying a little as you struggle to pull it off entirely. And Felix takes note of your struggle, snapping one more photo of your desperate state and slinging the camera back off.
“Let me help you,” he says with an amused smile, placing the camera on the bag beside him and scooting closer to you. His hands loop themselves in the hem of your panties, keeping his gaze locked on your core as he pulls them down, being met instantly with the sweet aroma of your arousal and your glistening folds.
“Fuck,” Felix breathes, swallowing in anticipation at you spread for him.
You let yourself slouch back into the dip of the couch cushion, propping a leg up to give him a better view, and your hands graze over your breasts as you watch him struggle to comprehend the sight.
“Go on,” you order simply, biting your lip as his eyes widen when you knead your breast gently.
And Felix doesn’t spare another second, his hands finding purchase on your inner thighs, as he brings his face forward and licks a long stripe up your folds. His tongue is instantly coated in your arousal when he does, moaning at the taste of you as you writhe in pleasure below him and clamp your knees around his pretty face. He holds them open again, letting his tongue graze over your pulsing clit, before licking another stripe and then latching his lips around your bundle of nerves, pressing a chaste kiss before sucking harshly.
The room fills with your high-pitched moans, gasping for air and clutching desperately onto the fabric of the couch as he works you, alternating between sucking your clit between his teeth and grazing his tongue over your entrance. He darts his tongue into your sopping entrance to gather more of your arousal, spitting harshly onto your cunt and grazing it around your folds using his tongue. And the more you writhe desperately below him, the more his movements become ravenous, working you like a starved animal as he eats you out and pries your legs open.
“Felix,” you groan, reaching a hand out to push his face further into you. “Feels so fucking good.”
He smiles against you, responding with little kisses peppered on your inner thighs, before moving back to your clit and licking in harsh back and forth motions. Your cunt clenches around nothing, desperate for him to fill you, but not wanting him to halt the motion of pleasuring you with his tongue. And as his fingers graze along your thigh to pry you open again, you gasp when he brings the same hand to your clit and rubs vigorously.
Your body is shaking now, trembling with anticipation as you approach your orgasm. But Felix doesn’t stop to gauge your reactions at all- in fact, if you were to cum right now, he’d keep going at this pace regardless. He’s too fixated on the taste of your arousal in his mouth, the melodious moans you let out for him and the way you reach for nothing tangible as he works you.
As your head throws back in pure ecstasy, you feel his fingers move lower, and lower, until he’s grazing your entrance with his knuckles in a teasing motion. And before you can ask him to fuck you with them, he’s already inserting two fingers, increasing the pace of his tongue as he begins to thrust in and out of you. Your cunt contracts eagerly around his fingers, desperate for release now as he matches the rhythm of his tongue with his fingers, the room teeming with the sounds of your squelching pussy. As he pushes deeper into you, you feel his ring- the cold, stiff metal of your now matching rings, graze your entrance, sending a wave of pleasure over your trembling body. His fingers work in and out of you, the cold metal pressing itself on your clit as he bottoms out inside of you and moves his fingertips in quick come hither motions to stimulate you. Your abdomen contracts harshly with every thrust now, your clit throbbing as he traces it with his tongue and peppers it in hot, wet kisses.
“Felix, fuck, I’m- gonna cum for you,” you warn, your voice shaky as he moves even faster, showing no mercy with his movements as he groans against your exposed flush.
“Let go for me,” he commands plainly, his deep voice vibrating against your clit as he holds his tongue there. “Always give me such a fucking show, baby. Make a mess for me.” He speaks between kisses on your glistening folds, alternating between pouting his lips to make out with your cunt and let his tongue wag over your sensitive core.
As you feel his fingers thrust into you one last time, the cold metal of his ring gliding over your folds in its coat of arousal, your abdomen contracts over him, your cunt clenching in syncopation with your fervent moans as you finally let go and dribble your juices all over his freckled face. He wastes no time cleaning you up, lapping at your core to swallow your release and pepper your dampened flesh with tender kisses.
“Stay there,” Felix orders, reaching beside him as your eyes flutter shut in overstimulation. You lie completely listless, your limbs languid and heartbeat pulsing at a now slowing rate throughout your body.
Felix brings his camera up to you again, sitting up on his knees and snapping a photo of your wearied state, his eyes wide with lust as he admires the way your legs hang loosely at your sides. His lens adjusts to capture your parted lips and flushed cheeks, your hands tugging your skirt down again and the smile on your breathless lips when you open your eyes again.
Felix stands up now, approaching you with the camera and letting his slender fingers graze your lips.
“Suck,” he orders, inserting the same two fingers down your throat as his other hand positions the lens in front of you. And you oblige eagerly, your lips wrapping around his digits to suck your own arousal off of him, your tongue swirling around the salty metal of his ring to rid him of your juices.
His photos capture exactly that- your lips wrapped around his knuckles, the kisses you trail down his fingers and the way your tongue licks the perimeter of your matching jewelry clean.
When you’re finished, you release him with a gentle pop, Felix letting his camera hang loosely at his waist again and using his now free hand to tilt your head up to meet his gaze.
“So beautiful,” he says resolutely, bringing you up for a gentle kiss. “You were always such a good model for me.”
*
When you work an early shift, you make it a point to kick Felix out of your apartment no later than 9, or sometimes 10. You’re not staying the night, you’d explained as a non-negotiable condition, wanting to avoid the awkward antics that come with sleeping alongside each other and waking up in his arms. But tonight, you can’t seem to let go of him, letting his arms wrap you in their warm embrace as he presses kisses to your forehead and tells you stories of college that you weren’t around for.
“It was the worst group I ever had for a project,” Felix says in a chuckle. “I don’t know how I passed that course.”
“You should’ve requested a different group,” you say in a sleepy voice, smiling as you play the humorous tale in your head.
“I did!” He exclaims. “I don’t think the professor liked me enough to let me switch so late in the semester.”
“Well, you got through it,” you reply, letting your hand intertwine with his as your rings rub tenderly against each other. “I can’t say the same.”
Felix chuckles lightly, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand and letting your hands rest against each other. He thinks for a moment, and then rubs his thumb along your hand lovingly as he begins to speak again.
“I want to take so many photos of you in the spring. There’s this new lens I want to try.”
You pause briefly, opening your eyes to look at him, and then you cock your head slightly before responding.
“You won’t be here for the spring, Felix. You’ll be back at school.”
He swallows nervously, pondering your words, and then he exhales deeply before continuing.
“I don’t think college is for me, either.”
The words hit you like a truck the second they escape his lips- you sit up in bed to look at him, releasing his hand from yours and furrowing your brows together.
“What?”
“I’ve been meaning to tell you, I just wasn’t sure how to bring it up. I want to stay here, with you.”
“No, you don’t,” you’re quick to say, shaking your head.
“I do,” Felix admits sheepishly. “Everything makes sense here. Being with you, the town, the people- I think I’m meant to be here, too.”
“No, you’re not,” you say, pulling away from him even further as he sits up now, too. “Felix- this isn’t your life. You need to go back to school, and pick a major and live your life.”
“I don’t want those things,” Felix responds frustratedly. “I want you. I want this town. I don’t care if you don’t want to date, I’ll stay by your side regardless. I can’t just leave you.”
“You can, and you will.”
Felix narrows his eyes, anger quickly overtaking him as his face flushes a dark shade of red.
“So you’re allowed to and I’m just not? Who are you to dictate what I do with my life?”
“This is the life I made for myself,” you reply, exasperated. “It’s not some soul-searching pit stop like it is for you.”
“Maybe it’s not for me, either.”
You’re entirely off the bed now, your hands making angry gestures as you try to verbalize your feelings toward him, Felix’s voice growing increasingly irate as you attempt to.
“You know why I left you in the first place?” You question. “Because I was dragging you down. You had everything- a family, a future and a girlfriend who didn’t quite have things made the way you do. No one even understood why we were together, Felix. I’m not gonna drag you down a second time just because we had sex a couple times.”
“Is that all this is to you?” Felix inquires angrily. “Just sex? It doesn’t seem that way when you’re all over me at Seungmin’s parties calling me your ‘best friend’. That doesn’t sound like just sex to me-”
“You are my best friend,” you interrupt frustratedly, tears falling from your eyes now as you try to make him listen.
“You are my best friend, and I don’t want this life for you. The night I left you, my dad was moved to hospice, and my mom decided she wanted nothing to do with it. I knew you’d be wasting the best years of your life taking care of me, staying by my side like the good person you are, but that it would get in the way of college and your life. It wasn’t easy for me to do, Felix, breaking up with you and getting as far away from you as possible before I could change my mind. But you have a life outside of me, and I need you to go be that person still.”
Felix says nothing in response for several minutes, his eyes welling with tears, too, as you wipe your eyes with your inner wrists and avert his gaze. You hate when Felix sees you cry- it’s embarrassing, and it feels shameful. It feels the way it did when Felix skipped classes to be with you, neglected studying for his exams to hold you as you cried, rain checked his own family to be with yours and dragged you to every house party, so that he could fuck your sadness away in an environment that wasn’t a hospital bathroom or your childhood room.
“How dare you imply the time I spent with you was wasted,” he scoffs, his lip quivering as he wipes his own eyes. “You were my life, outside of all of this. And you still are, and you’re so stubborn in doing that thing where you don’t let yourself feel.”
You watch as Felix gathers his camera, stuffing it back into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder.
“You said you’re somewhere between the fire and the mending. But you don’t talk about the fire. You just shut it out like you do with everything else.”
He pivots on his heel, making his way toward the door and walking with loud, purposeful strides. You begin to say something, quickly swallowing your words again as he reaches for the doorknob and turns it slowly. Felix pauses momentarily, hoping you’ll ask him to stay, apologize, forgive- anything, any sort of indication that this is what you want, too. But as the door opens, your silence is answer enough for him.
“No one could have prevented the fire,” Felix says before leaving, echoing the words you told him so long ago. “You can pick up, and move on, but it still happened. And just because things burned, doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to thrive again.”
Without another word from you, he’s disappearing out your front door, his camera bag swaying on his side as he marches out the building and back to his car.
And you feel yourself begin to cry, your heart contracting painfully in your chest, a pit forming in your stomach as you witness him walk out of your life again. The flames burn inside of you all over again, turning organ to ash as you wipe your never-ending tears and slam the door behind him. It’s akin to when your mother left, when your dad passed and when you left Felix the first time. It’s overwhelming, it consumes you whole, your entire figure trembling as you fail to extinguish the flames. The phenomenon begs the question- had the fire ever really stopped? Were you ever in the process of mending if not wailing like this, your vulnerability on display for the world to see as your walls are finally let down? Is this what it means to feel?
*
There are few people in this world who have seen you cry. Your mom, one of them, when you begged her to stay. Your dad, another, when you held his hand through his last breath. Felix, the third, several times throughout your relationship with him.
And the folks in this town- never. Not once have they witnessed you wail the way Felix has, tears brimming your eyes as you fail to keep your emotions at bay, mucus trickling down to your lips in an inelegant manner as you cry, and cry and cry.
“You want some coffee?” Chris asks awkwardly, scratching the back of his head as he watches you bury your face in the sleeves of your sweatshirt.
“No.”
“Yena should be here any minute,” he adds, his voice softening as he watches you lift your head to give him a nod.
“Hang in there, kiddo,” Chris finishes, rubbing your back in small circles and giving you a gentle pat.
As you rest your chin in your hands, a pounding headache overtaking your whole being, a knock at the front door catches your attention. It’s Yena, a hood thrown over her head as she balances a tupperware container in her hands and peers through the window. Chris gives her a knowing look, making his way to the door and unlocking it for her.
“Hey,” Yena says softly as she enters, setting down a slice of pie in front of you and taking a seat on the stool beside you. “You okay?”
You sniffle once, shaking your head sorrowfully as she awaits your explanation. But nothing is verbalized yet, and for a good few minutes, all you can do is cry.
Yena wraps you in her loving embrace, letting your tears stain the shoulder of her hoodie, as Chris shrugs from behind you and delivers reassuring pats to your back. They’re just as confused as each other, awaiting a reason or some story, but you can’t bring yourself to vocalize your thoughts, especially when you’re a crying mess like this. Chris finally ushers Yena to say something, and she does, albeit reluctantly.
“You know, just between us, I think he’s a little dorky, anyway. It’s his loss if he can’t see what he’s missing.”
And to their surprise, you chuckle lightly, still wiping tears with the corners of your sweatshirt.
“What?” You question, a soft hiccup escaping your lips as you speak. Yena furrows her brows, together shooting a questioning look to Chris, who shrugs in response.
“Is this… not about Felix?” She queries hesitantly.
“It is,” you emphasize, another giggle escaping your lips. “But it’s not that he’s not interested. We used to date, Yena.”
At this, Yena reaches around to swat Chris’ shoulder, pursing her lips together as she speaks again. “I knew something was up,” she voices, swatting Chris again. “Christopher over here was convinced he was too into you.”
“You guys talked about it?” You add, giggling softly into the sleeve of your sweater.
“It was hard not to,” Yena responded, giving you an empathetic look. “The way you guys light up a room when you’re together, it’s like winter turns to spring or something. I was so certain he was the one.”
At this, more tears escape the corners of your eyes, falling onto the counter below you as you nod slowly in regards to her words.
“I love him,” you finally say, and the room goes silent when you do.
“I love him, and he deserves better than me. Than this,” you finish, gesturing around you to the town. “He wants to drop out of college and stay here. Like that’s a good idea for anyone except me.”
Yena and Chris give each other staggered looks, unsure of what to reply to first. They’ve never heard you speak of your emotions like this, never seen you cry and never would’ve guessed that you would let down your guard to this degree around them. It’s a little frightening, at first, to watch you tear down your own walls so much, like watching a different person than the one they’ve known for all these years. But it’s also reassuring to see that you are capable of letting yourself open up for the right people. It takes a weight off their shoulders to bear witness to the confirmation that they’re the people you can go to when you need help, the same way they don’t hesitate to lean on you. And it especially gives solace to know that you feel so deeply at all, a trait Yena and Chris have always pushed you to familiarize yourself with.
“Well what’s stopping you?” Yena asks, threading her fingers in your hair and combing it back like your mother used to.
“Exactly that,” you respond. “I don’t want to confine him to this life of mine.”
“Let me ask you something,” Yena states, taking your hands in hers and bringing your gaze up to meet hers. “Are you happy?”
And the question throws you off guard, requiring a moment to think before you can say anything in response. It’s a fair question, too- one you should’ve asked yourself when you agreed to move here years ago. But it’s not a difficult one to crack, either, when you take in your surroundings. The diner across the street is packed with patrons, happily sipping away at milkshakes and glass bottles of soda. This old record shop, with its dingy back room and rows of genres you make an effort to learn about whenever you get a chance. The starlings that flock when the train travels through, the holiday parties you find a home in and your favorite spot on the hill, overlooking all of Ember. They’re all working parts of one larger phenomenon- that of happiness.
“Yeah,” you reply, nodding to affirm your answer. “I love it here. And I love you guys, and I’m still healing most days, but I wouldn’t want to be doing it anywhere else.”
A smile grows on Yena’s face as she glances back between you and Chris, and he shoots her a little nod.
“Then do something about it,” she finally says, giving your hands a little squeeze. “The first step is letting yourself feel. The rest is up to you to run with.”
And when you meet her gaze, and Chris’ gaze, their loving expressions looking down at you like you’re one of their own, you can’t help but pull them into a hug, letting yourself cry a little harder at the prospect of your found family, these tears ones of happiness.
“I love you guys,” you voice confidently. “And I’m sorry if I’ve never said it out loud.”
Chris’ hand pats your back, Yena’s combing through your hair tenderly, as they hug you with equal enthusiasm and allow you to cry as long as you need.
“We love you, kid,” Chris answers.
And when you pull away again, the three of you laugh, your tears staining your reddened faces as you bask in this unconditional appreciation for one another.
“Eat your pie,” Yena says, shoving a fork toward you. “And Chris, play some music, will you?”
Chris salutes her, pulling a random record off the shelf and scanning its contents.
“Polish folk?” He questions, and you glance at the familiar cover of the record, the same couple dipping into a bow as they dance in their colorful fabrics.
“This one’s really good,” you chime in, taking a bite of cherry pie as you nod toward the record player. “We should dance to this one.”
And as Chris starts the upbeat music, pulling Yena in for a comedic waltz, you can’t help but laugh through your tears, at the home this town’s given you in all your mending.
*
Felix hasn’t been at the record shop since your fight. He hasn’t been at your apartment, nor the diner, or even Seungmin’s place (and yes, you did ask). There’s only one place you know Felix would flock to after a night like the one you shared, and if you’re lucky, you should still be able to catch him on his supposed last night here.
The grassy hill is a little slippery at this hour, caked mud enwreathing your sneakers as you trudge your way up the hill and into the familiar dip of the land. And as the horizon becomes visible to you, spanning the length of the town and showcasing all the bright lights the nighttime flaunts, so does Felix, sitting with his back to you in a plain white t-shirt and jeans. He looks more casual tonight, less dressed with the intention to look a specific way, and you can’t help but smile at the sight of his slim frame taking in the view you led him to. He leans back on his hands, eyes scanning the sight of the town, before picking up his camera and snapping a series of photos.
When you occupy the spot next to him, he glances over at you briefly, before turning his attention back to the camera and waiting for you to speak.
“It’s prettier at night, isn’t it?,” you finally say, breaking the silence, and Felix fixes his gaze on the blurry lights of the record shop.
“Yeah,” he responds curtly, swallowing nervously as he ponders what to say.
And you know if you let him facilitate this conversation, it’d be over much sooner rather than later, but you also know that it’s up to you to make amends now.
“Your photography is still so beautiful,” you state, gesturing to the camera in his hands. “It’s always been so artistic.”
Felix remains quiet, toying with the strap on his camera as you speak.
“You’re artistic,” you continue. “And that’s why I want you to finish college. Don’t throw all this away for me.”
He turns his face to meet your gaze, his eyes trembling a little as you give him an empathetic look and shrug.
“I don’t want to go where you won’t follow,” Felix says, his voice coming out a little shaky.
“But I’ll always be here,” you retort, tears beginning to prick the corners of your eyes again. “Don’t put your life on hold for something that already lives in your past. You are an incredible person, Felix, and I’m not gonna drag you down a second time.”
Felix thinks for a moment, swallowing a lump in his throat as he thinks over your words. And he knows that there’s a possibility this isn’t what he wants, either- to stay in this little town with your friends he’s not even sure like him very much. But he does know he wants you, and that staying here would mean sacrificing his old life.
“I want you to know it wasn’t your fault,” Felix says after a brief pause of silence. “Nobody who walked out deserved you. And your dad loved you- a lot. I think about that moment watching the sunrise with you every day. He’s there too, part of that memory tucked away in my mind. I’m sorry it happened so suddenly and disrupted things. I just want you to be happy.”
“I am happy, Felix,” you tell him, chuckling lightly as you respond. “I have a whole family here. I don’t spend my holidays alone, I meet new people working at the shop everyday. There’s so many people I haven’t introduced you to. There are coffee shops, and parades on weekends, and I’m happy. I’m still healing, but I’ve also realized that being healed doesn’t equate my happiness. I can be one without the other, and still get by just fine.”
Felix’s gaze is fixed on yours for a moment, not saying anything as he lets your words circle his mind. And there’s so much he wants to say in response, so many questions about what the future means for you both, but he also knows very well that the rest is up to him to figure out, just the way you did when you moved out here. Maybe you’re still healing- and maybe Felix is still figuring out the rest for himself, too. And though the past may be clouded by a story much more complex than either of you can even begin to comprehend, the happiness you seek is attainable, whether or not you’re together to see it through to the end. That although sometimes things may burn and decay like this town once did, there are people who will make the journey to help in the process of rebuilding, and you can thrive again. You can always thrive again.
“You’re right,” Felix says, as he looks over the horizon again. “It is prettier at night.”
The dim glow of the streetlights contrasts the flashy signs of the diner and the record shop, painting the blackened town with vivid color and bringing life to the small town of Ember.
And with a half smile, Felix pulls you in for a tender kiss, the two of you letting your apologies flow through each other in the gentle embrace of your lips and your hands intertwining atop the grassy hill.
Felix pulls you close, letting your head rest comfortably against his chest, as he caresses your hand softly in the grasp of his. And his index finger rubs lovingly against your ring finger, your matching rings grazing against each other as if to say I’ve always loved you.
*
Small town at the edge of the world. No particular time of day. A blossoming summer.
If you told the average person to shut their eyes and think of their favorite city, they’d probably conjure up a lengthy description about the booming skyscrapers, the bumper-to-bumper traffic, the fancy restaurants and the well-kept people. Point it out on a map, you’d tell them, and their finger would land in the heart of the amorphous blob of whatever state they’ve chosen.
Now move your finger to the right- keep going, and going, and don’t stop until you’re almost off the map entirely. There will be no major indicators, no colorful dots on this area of the map. You might miss it, in fact, if you shoot too far.
That’s the small town of Ember. A town Felix holds very close to his heart. And one you call home.
The cicadas buzz with high-pitched melodies of summer as you slip your sneakers on, the piercing blue sky around you almost too bright to look directly in its face. The clouds seem to shift with the summer breeze, drifting along the canvas sky like a painting in motion as you take in the sight around you
“Let’s go!” Yena calls, honking her horn twice to signify her arrival.
“I’m coming!” You call back, making your way down the stairs of her porch, balancing trays of food in hand as you account for everything you’ve agreed to bring. Drinks, plates, pie, napkins- your signature arrangement for the town’s summer festival you attend alongside Chris and Yena every year.
“Slow down, kiddo,” Chris says with a chuckle, as you rush to place everything in the backseat. “Oh, and there’s a letter for you on the porch table,” he adds, shooting you a small wink.
“I’ll be right back!” you call to Yena, jogging back up the stairs to collect the little beige envelope that rests atop the wooden surface.
It’s addressed to you, the handwriting in neat swirly black cursive letters, the envelope feeling sturdy between your fingers. You tear it open with no real aim, a giant gash working down the envelope as you rush you pull out the contents and examine them.
It’s a stack of photos, you quickly realize, sorting through them to make out the glossy digital prints.
There’s a photo of you in the back of the record shop, your hands brought up to your face and your legs hanging lazily off the table. Another showcases you in the familiar beige interior of the passenger’s seat, laughing cheerfully and staring out the window. There are photos of the town’s horizon, photos of the record player at your work, Yena’s famous pie, Seungmin’s holiday party and even the matching rings, intertwined hands that rest on the car console. As you shuffle to the last photo, you recognize it to be much more recent than the others, even the quality looking clearer, perhaps a new camera or a different roll of film.
It’s a still photo of Felix, from the waist up, holding a peace sign up to the lens with a small smile. He’s dressed brightly in a white vest and layered jewelry, the background showcasing a blue harbor with rows of boats, the location indistinguishable to you. He’s blonde again, his now shorter golden tresses framing the myriad of freckles that scatter his face once more. And he looks happy, much like himself again.
You wonder briefly who took the photo of him, the angle being of very close proximity. And you can’t make out which hand usually houses the ring you both wear, the only hand visible to you covering his ring finger, regardless. You scan the photo for a moment, running your fingertips over his figure, before turning it over and reading the neatly scribbled text on the back:
Sydney, last fall. I think I’m the only photography major who doesn’t drink my coffee without sugar. And you were right, the freckles do suit me better.
How do you do this? Like how does your brain formulate this?? I know the whole point of reader inserts is to feel like you're a part of the story, but literally every time I read something of yours it's like I've been dropped into the location and timeline. I can't get over how well written and described everything and everyone always is. I am unable to give you a good enough compliment lol
We're too far gone to turn back now
It's all for one, lost in the crowd
And all for nothing if it disappears
They're just stupid boys making basement noise
tw: swearing; explicit mature content as in: oral sex & fingering (f receiving), unprotected piv sex (DON’T!!!🤨), creampie; changbin calls reader princess during sexy time 😮💨; size kink i guess (reader is obsessed with changbin’s body, who can blame her???); thigh riding is mentioned; showering together; ♡
🔖: @killzbabiexs ; ♡
check out my masterlist here ♡ check out the status of my wips here ♡
🗺️: i am not a native english speaker so please if you spot any mistakes/typos let me know!
⚡︎
Changbin is tired.
He is tired of seeing you coming back after another unsuccessful date and sulk on your couch as if your life depends on some dude you met online. Or worse - seeing you hung up on some loser who ghosted you out of the blue. It drives him crazy. Plus, you only seem to find total jerks on that stupid app. Every time you show him a picture of a guy you’re talking to - Changbin has to fight the urge to roll his eyes at you and scoff. They’re all so… boring, and they look like total jerks - he’s convinced you deserve better.
Someone who would be by your side through thick and thin, somebody who would watch those sappy movies with you on the couch and who’d playfully make fun of your for crying when the characters finally together only to pull you close for a hug and smother you with kisses all over your pretty face. Someone like me, Changbin often thinks, but doesn’t dare to voice his thoughts - too scared to ruin things between you.
Tonight, you come home earlier than he expected you to, and he immediately knows something must have gone wrong. It is only twenty past ten, so there’s no way your date has actually gone well, considering the guy’d picked you up only two hours before.
You close the door with a loud thud, then remove your shoes without bothering to untie the laces. Changbin’s body jolts up and he quickly snaps his head in your direction at the sudden noise. He was sprawled on the couch, watching an episode of the series he’d recently started, and he was definitely not expecting you to come home so soon - otherwise he would’ve put on some decent clothes instead of lying there in just his blue sweats.
“Why are you naked?”, you frown as you remove your jeans jacket and hang it on the wall together with your purse.
Honestly - Changbin is shirtless a lot in your shared apartment, just never around you. At least, not intentionally. He’d usually go around like that whenever he is done with his workout session and right about to hop in the shower. Despite being your friend for years - Changbin still feels embarrassed to go around like that when you are in the apartment as well.
“Yah! I’m not naked!” Changbin protests, immediately turning away so that you are now facing his bare back and can’t see the way his cheeks are slowly heating up. Poor boy’s embarrassed. He immediately picks up his t-shirt and puts it back on, then turned to face you once again, hoping you won't notice how flustered he is. “Besides, why are you here so early?”
You sigh, and he immediately understands. So he sits up on the couch, pauses the tv show and pats the cushion, inviting you to sit next to him. Once you sit down, you immediately lean you head on his shoulder, and he puts an arm around your shoulders, pulling you even closer.
“Do you wanna talk about it?”, he tests the waters.
You shake your head as a no. “Not really.”, you murmur. “I’m just disappointed, I guess. Thought the date was going fine.”, you let out a heavy sigh.
Changbin remains silent, not really knowing what to say that could make you feel better. He’s well aware that your hopes on that date were high, and it really crushes him to see you so disappointed and hurt over some jerk.
“Maybe it’s just me.”, you blurt out.
Changbin is confused. “What do you mean?”, he asks.
You lift your head from his shoulder and gently pull away, letting his arm fall back on the couch. “Maybe I am the problem.”, you clarify. “There must be something wrong with me.”
Changbin is now staring at you with wide eyes and his mouth agape. He must’ve misheard you, there’s no other plausible explanation. There’s no way you actually said that. And he can’t help but wonder why would you only go out with jerks who make you think you’re not good enough for them.
“Yah, stop that right now.” Changbin scolds you and you frown. “Don’t ever think you’re the problem when that jerk dropped you off without even giving you a proper explanation.”
“But-“
“No buts. You’re beautiful and you’re funny and you’re smart and I’m sure he was the problem.” Changbin insists.
“How are you so sure?”, you quirk an eyebrow at him.
Your friend looks at you through his thick glasses as if you just asked him the most stupid question ever.
“Because you’re my friend? Duh.” Changbin shrugs.
Friend. That word brings you back to reality. That’s what you are to him, his friend. Sure, he’s your friend too, but recently you’ve started seeing him as something more than a friend and roommate - you’ve fallen for him.
That’s why you’d desperately tried to date during the past few weeks - to try to get over your stupid crush, because you most definitely couldn’t risk fucking your friendship with Changbin up. He’s been a part of your life for years now, and you wouldn’t wanna lose him due to a silly crush. Because that’s what it is, isn’t it? It’s just your stupid brain playing tricks on you and letting you believe you could actually be with him - for real.
“That’s not an explanation, tho.”, you remind him. “Maybe it is me. Maybe I’m too stiff or awkward or… I don’t know, there must be a reason why they don’t call me back.”
Truth be told - you know. You know the reason why your dates always end the same way - because you keep comparing them to him. To Changbin. But in the end - nobody compares to him.
Changbin gets closer to you, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You mentally scold yourself when you feel your stomach jump at the sudden proximity. Yeah, you should really get over your silly crush, it’s starting to become ridiculous.
For a moment, you let yourself believe he’s about to kiss you on your forehead like he always does when he’s trying to cheer you up, so you close your eyes in anticipation, like it happens in those romantic movies. What if he kissed you on the lips instead? How would his lips feel against yours?
But you don’t get to feel that, and you don’t get to feel his lips on your forehead either, because Changbin unexpectedly flicks you. Right on your forehead, making you wince in pain.
“Ow!”, you open your eyes only to find him laughing like an idiot. You glare at him, then hit him with a pillow. “What’s wrong with you? Why would you do that?”, you whine, rubbing the spot where he just flicked you.
He eventually stops laughing, but he’s still grinning. You roll your eyes at him.
“Because you have to stop overthinking things.”, he says.
As if it were simple, you want to say. If you could stop overthinking things, your life would be much easier. Changbin is probably the most laid back person you know, and he rarely worries too much about things. He rarely even opens up about his life, mostly because he doesn’t let the things than happen to him negatively affect his life or his thinking. You wish you could be like him.
“I know.”, you sigh, leaning back on the soft cushion. “I can’t help it. It’s just been so long since I’ve last had a proper date, you know? Maybe I’m just too rusty and I forgot how to flirt or something. Maybe there’s just something I do wrong.”, you point out.
Changbin looks like he has something on his mind. You know that face, where his eyes are slightly closed and he’s looking at you through his glasses while biting his cheek. Yeah, he’s definitely onto something.
“I’ll take you on a date.”
You freeze in your spot, looking at him with wide eyes. What? Are you imagining things or has he just asked you out on a date? Oh, this is not good for your get-over-your-stupid-crush plan.
“What?”, is all you manage to get out.
“I’ll take you on a date.” Changbin repeats as if the most normal thing in the world, and you can now feel your heart hammering in your chest. “If you’re that worried there’s something wrong with you, I can help you with that. We’ll go on a date and we’ll have fun and that’ll show you there’s nothing wrong with you or your flirting skills.”, he explains his evil plan.
Oh.
A little voice inside your head is telling you to decline his offer because this is dangerous territory. You’re already crushing on the guy, how is going on a date with him - even if it’s not a real one - make the situation any better? But of course Changbin doesn’t even suspect a thing, and being the sweet and caring friend he is, he just wants to genuinely help you.
What he doesn’t know, tho, is that it’ll probably only make things worse for you.
“You don’t have to do that.”, you quickly say. “You don’t have to take me out just because my love life is miserable.”
“I know I don’t have to, but I want to.” Changbin clears his throat and quickly adds “I mean, I want to help you. You know, boost your confidence and stuff.”
How are you supposed to decline his offer now? If you think about it - it’s just a date. Nothing has to happen. He’s Changbin, you’ve known him for years, what could possibly go wrong?
“Fine.”, you eventually give in.
Changbin looks at you surprised, as if he was expecting you to turn down his offer. He looks taken aback, but a smile spreads on his face nonetheless. “Okay then, I’m taking you out tomorrow night.”
Tomorrow? Isn’t that a bit too soon? You still need time to figure all of this out! Maybe it’s like ripping off a bandaid, the quicker the better. You’ll go out with your best friend Changbin like you’ve done plenty of times before - except this time it’s a date.
“Okay.”
“Good.” Changbin smiles at you. “We’re going on a date.”, he repeats, then gets up from the couch.
“Where are you going?”, you ask confused.
“To bed. Have to get up early tomorrow.” Changbin explains. “Goodnight, y/n.”, he then place the long yearned kiss on your forehead. “Sleep tight.”
⚡︎
You forget about the whole date-with-Changbin thing.
Well, it’s not like you forget about it - you just don’t take it too seriously. Changbin often jokes and stuff, so you brush his offer off as one of his jokes and just don’t think about it for the whole day. Plus, when he left earlier in the morning, he didn’t mention anything about tonight, so you just assumed he wasn’t serious about it. You don’t know whether you should feel relieved or not.
You just forget about the whole thing - that is, until you exit your room to go refill your water bottle and spot Changbin in your shared bathroom getting ready in front of the mirror. He’s wearing a white shirt, sleeves rolled up his elbows, and tight black pants. You stare a little too long, and he eventually acknowledges your presence outside the bathroom.
“Yah!”, he raises his voice, snapping his head in your direction as he takes in your figure. “You’re not ready? Aish…”
You look at him with wide eyes. You’re not ready. In fact, you’re far from ready. Your hair is messily styled into a ponytail and you’re dressed in an oversized t-shirt and some shorts.
“I- I thought you were joking.”, you stutter.
“You better start getting ready, then. We’re leaving in less than one hour.” Changbin informs you as he sprays his cologne on his wrists and neck. “And you better start thinking of this as a real date!”
You fight the urge to roll your eyes at him as you go back in your room and open every single drawer in your closet, desperately looking for something decent to wear, but none of your clothes seem to be appropriate. Boring, old, boring and old, too slutty, too ugly. Yeah, you really need to declutter some of your clothes and buy new ones.
You eventually opt for a pair of black pants and a white, long sleeved top. Casual is how you’d define your outfit. Not too elegant, not too shabby. When it comes to the choice of your underwear, Changbin’s words resonate in your head.
You better start thinking of this as a real date, he said.
Now, if you were to go on a real date, you’d go for matching bra and panties, hoping to end your night with something more than a goodbye kiss. But then again, you’re going out with Changbin tonight, and it’s not like he’s going to see your underwear - because deep down both of you know it’s not a real date. But since he isn’t going to see your underwear - there’s no harm in actually matching it, is there? He’s never gonna know anyways, and it’s not like you’re doing anything wrong, it’s just underwear.
You return to the bathroom with your clothes in your hands, neatly folded. Changbin’s still staring at himself in the mirror, fixing his hair. You can’t help but notice how handsome he is - white shirt slightly unbuttoned, tight pants wrapped around his muscular thighs, the sight is enough to make you drool.
“I have to shower.”, you announce, clearing your throat. You only have one hour to get ready, and you still have to do your hair and makeup.
“Oh, right. Sure.” Changbin mutters, before proceeding to leave the bathroom.
As he does so, he involuntarily takes a glimpse of your underwear - which you’d put right on top of your clothes -, and he hopes you miss the way his eyes widen and his breath hitches as he feels himself getting red in the face. Without uttering another word, he leaves the room, closing the door behind him.
⚡︎
Changbin is a true gentleman - you find out.
He waited for you by his car, complimented your outfit as soon as he saw you, greeted you with a kiss on the cheek even though there was no need to since you technically live together, then opened the car door for you and closed it after he made sure you were comfortably seated in his car.
So far, you can say you’re genuinely impressed. The last guy you went out with hadn’t even bothered to turn the engine of his car off and just honked a couple times to let you know he’d arrived.
“Where are you taking me, my knight?”, you joke, and Changbin rolls his eyes at you as he fastens his seatbelt.
“Yah, stop making fun of this!”, he whines. “You’re not taking this seriously!”
You can’t help but giggle at his pouting, and it only annoys Changbin even more. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. No more teasing, got it.”, you promise. “Now, where are you taking me?”
Changbin doesn’t answer you - he turns on the engine of his car instead. You only discover your destination when he parks his car about fifteen minutes later. Meanwhile, he let you put the music directly from your playlist - which is something he never does because, quote “My taste in music is better than yours anyways.” It must be your Passenger Princess - as Changbin called you - privilege, you guess.
For your date he brought you to eat ramyeon, and he didn’t choose a random place for that. You’re genuinely surprised he remembered. A couple of weeks ago you told him you were craving ramyeon so bad. You had asked him if he remember that specific restaurant where you’d eaten one time, claiming that they made the best spicy ramyeon there.
Of course Changbin remembered that day - it was the first time he thought of you as something more than a friend. You were supposed to go out with your friends too, but they’d all bailed on you last minute - so you and Changbin found yourselves alone in the crowded restaurant. Even though you were alone even back then - it feels different now. Right now, you’re on a date.
“You remembered!”, you look at him with your mouth agape as soon as you spot the neon sign of the restaurant.
Changbin parks the car and unfastens his seatbelt. He looks at you surprised. “Yah! Of course I remembered! Unlike you, I actually pay attention when somebody’s talking to me.”, he teases.
You roll your eyes at him and playfully push him. You’re about to open your car door, when Changbin lets out a loud “Yah!”, and you immediately halt your movements and look at him confused.
“I’m supposed to open it for you.”, he explains.
You can’t help but giggle. “Changbin, there’s no need to, I can do it myself.”
“No, no, no.”, he shakes his head dramatically. “You’re the Passenger Princess, remember?”
You can’t help but blush a little as soon as you hear those words, but it’s dark outside, so you hope he won’t notice. He swiftly gets out of the car, and opens the car door by your side in record time. For a moment, you wonder how cool would it be if you and Changbin were actually together - a couple - and went on dates on a regular basis.
Yeah, you have a feeling you could get used to the feeling.
“Take my hand.”, Changbin’s voice brings you back to reality.
Changbin is standing in front of you, handsome as ever, with the sleeves of his white shirt - your favorite - rolled up his sleeves, his hand outstretched, waiting for you to place your hand on top of his. As you do so - you feel a shiver run down your spine, and you hope he doesn’t notice the way your body tenses up when he squeezes your hand in his.
Changbin seems to be skilled in the dating department. He opens the door of the restaurant for you, helps you take off your jacket and asks you what you want to eat - even though he knows well your favorite ramyeon is definitely the buldak one. He even orders a carton of milk in case it’s too spicy.
Thoughtful and caring - that’s what Changbin is, and that seems to mess with your plan of getting over him. Now that you’re getting a taste of what dating him would be like, you find yourself craving for more. You want more dates and more car rides and more Passenger Princess privileges and more and more and more.
Maybe this whole fake-real-date thing was a bad idea from the start, and you shouldn’t have listened to Changbin’s words - because there’s no way today’s date is actually going to help you. In fact, you fear it’s going to set the bar a little too high for your future dates.
“So…”, he starts, grabbing his chopsticks from the table and putting the napkin on his knees to avoid staining his pants just in case. “Tell me about you.”
You look at him dumbfounded - chopsticks in your hand as you’re about to take a mouthful of ramyeon. “What?”, you ask.
Changbin takes his time to savor and swallow his ramyeon. Then, he clarifies. “Tell me about you. What do you do for a living, what are your hobbies… Stuff like this, you know?”
You’re confused. “Changbin…”, you clear your throat that’s currently burning due to the extremely spicy sauce. “We live together. You know what I do for a living.”
He sighs. “It’s a date, y/n, I’m supposed to ask you these questions!”, he groans.
“But it’s not a real date! And you already know these things!”, you protest.
He glares at you as he brings his chopsticks back to his mouth and continues eating his ramyeon.
“Fine.”, you sigh, twisting the noodles in your plate with your chopsticks. “I’m a full-time kindergarten teacher, I work at a private school not far from Seoul.”, you start. “Hobbies, mh?”, you pause for a second. “Definitely painting. I love painting, I find it relaxing.”
Changbin smiles, pleased that you decided not to be a buzzkill and finally answer his questions.
“Kindergarten, huh?” Changbin rhetorically asks as he takes his time to refill both yours and his glasses with fresh water. “You must love kids, then.”
You nod. “I do. They’re so cute and full of surprises, you know? Every day I discover a new thing about them.”, you say with a smile on your face.
Changbin knows you love your job - of course he does. It makes him happy to hear you talk about how much you love your job and to see you happy nonetheless.
“I’m sure you’re a wonderful teacher, and I’m sure those kids love you.”, he says, a shy smile on his face. “So,” he clears his throat. “Painting! You have to let me see one of your masterpieces one day, then. Maybe I could be your muse, you could paint me.”, he smirks.
Is he… flirting?
You chuckle. “I wouldn’t call them masterpieces, but sure - I’d be happy to show you.”, you look at him through your eyelashes, kind of intrigued by the conversation you’re having. “I don’t live by myself, though, so I have to make sure my friend won’t be around, you know?”, you wink.
“Oh, you live with a friend?”, he plays along and even pretends to be surprised.
“Mh-hm”, you hum in agreement. “He’s a pain in the ass.”, you chuckle.
“Yah!” Changbin exclaims, before he realizes he’s fallen right in your trap. He clears his throat, “I mean - I’m sure he’s not that bad, is he?”
Maybe you should tease him a little, just for fun.
“He always leaves his things around the apartment. And he never does the dishes. Sometimes he even eats my food.”
“Your f-“, he clears his throat once again. “Yah, he sounds quite annoying. But I’m sure he’s funny and cute.”, he says confidently.
“Mh, not really.”, you let out a loud laugh at his shocked expression, covering your mouth with one hand. “Nah, I’m kidding, he’s a cool guy. It’s real fun living with him, I really like having him around.”, you admit, blushing a little.
You don’t notice it - but Changbin blushes too.
“Now tell me about you, Changbin.”, you tease him by asking him the same thing he’d asked you. “What do you do for a living?”
“I’m a chiropractic.”, he promptly says. “But I also work as a part-time personal trainer on Tuesdays and Fridays.”, he adds. “Whenever I got some free time I just workout. I usually do it at home, though.”
You know Changbin works out - of course you do. He usually does it in his own room, he just puts on some music and doesn’t exit his bedroom for at least an hour, all sweaty and ready to get rid of his sticky clothes and hop in the shower. You know he does it, but you’ve never seen him at work, and you’d be lying if you said it wouldn’t intrigue you to see him all sweaty and out of breath and -.
Seriously, what is wrong with you? You’re in the middle of a dinner date and you’re fantasizing about a man when said man is right before you. Said man is also your friend and roommate, by the way.
“I would have bet on it.”, you squeeze his arm that’s currently resting on top of your table. “There’s no way a man could be so fit and not be a personal trainer.”, you say, a bit flirty. “Maybe you could show me a couple of exercises I could do…”, you bat your eyelashes at him, flirting back. Two can play this game, right?
Changbin is shook and doesn’t know how to react. First, there’s your hand squeezing his forearm. Then, there’s you flirting with him.
“I- uh…”, he clears his throat. “Sure, I can teach you some… stuff. Not that you need to workout, anyways. You look beautiful the way you are.”, he flirts back.
“Thank you.”, you wink at him. “You’re pretty beautiful yourself.”
The rest of your dinner proceeds like this - Changbin flirting with you and you flirting back. You’re enjoying the little attention he gives you, but wonder whether you made a wise choice, agreeing to this absurd idea your Changbin came up with. However, this might be the only chance you get to have him this close and to receive this kind of attention from him, so you don’t worry about it too much. You plan on enjoying the lingering touches, the shy smiles and the flirting as much as possible, because you know that once the date is over you won’t get to experience any of that again.
“This is fun.”, you casually comment.
“What’s fun?”
“This - the date.”, you clarify.
“I’m having fun too.” Changbin chuckles as he runs one hand through his dark hair. “I told you the problem’s not you.”
Your breath gets caught in your throat - he’s so handsome. One of the hottest men you’ve ever seen, if you have to be honest. And it’s not just the looks - his physical appearance is just a bonus. He’s got the whole package also personality wise. He’s fun and kind and a true gentleman - he’s a good friend and listens to you, he’s honest when it comes to giving advice, he’s just perfect. It’s going to be so hard to go back to dating ordinary men after having had a taste of what dating Changbin would be like, you can’t help but think.
“It’s just easy with you because I’m comfortable around you.”, you honestly say.
He looks slightly taken aback by your confession. “Were you not comfortable around those guys?”, he asks. You shake your head as a no. “Oh. Then you shouldn’t go out with guys who make you uncomfortable.”
You should go out with me. For real., a voice inside Changbin’s head screams.
⚡︎
On your way back home, you scolded Changbin for paying the restaurant check, claiming that he didn’t have to, claiming that “It’s not a real date, you don’t have to pay.”. “I want to.”, he’d answered, before pulling out his credit card from his wallet. You eventually agreed to that under one condition: “Next time, dinner’s on me.”, you’d said. Only now you do realize what those four words imply: another date.
And you’ll probably never know - but that’s why Changbin was smiling like an idiot on your way back to the car and during the whole ride home.
Changbin stops his car and turns the engine off. “We’re here.”, he announces.
“Is this how you usually end a date?”, you tease him.
“No, I usually walk the girl to the door.” Changbin says, then he grins at you. “Are you finally admitting this is a real date?”, he teases back, wiggling his eyebrows.
You playfully push him and roll your eyes at him pretending to be angry when you’re really not. You’re far from angry - in fact, you’re so happy you don’t want tonight to end, but you can’t tell Changbin that. “Yah! As if…”, you scoff. “I was just thinking - since you asked me to think of this as a real date - that we better do this right.”
You do have a point, Changbin realizes.
“Right.”, he agrees. “I’ll walk you to the door then.”
Like the true gentleman he is - Changbin opens the car door for you once again, for the fourth time tonight, ignoring your protests. Sometimes you seem to forget how stubborn he is.
When he walks you to the door - you both stare at each other awkwardly. What are you supposed to do now? This is the part of a date where a couple usually shares their first kiss or voices their desire to meet again, but you and Changbin are not a couple, and this isn’t a date. Even though you liked to pretend it was all real - both of you know it wasn’t.
You can’t help but think Changbin looks handsome right now, standing in front of you with his hands in his pocket and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up his arms, showing his forearms. You feel like a creep when you think about it - but you really got a thing for Changbin’s arms. They’re so muscular and buff and thick and you just can’t stop staring at him whenever he doesn’t notice.
“Right, uhm…” Changbin hums, unsure what he’s supposed to do now.
In the end, he decides to go for the safest option, so he cups your face with his big hands and leans in. For a moment there, you think he’s going to really kiss you - place his plump lips on top of yours and give you a breathtaking kiss, so you close your eyes in anticipation. Instead, he places his soft lips on your forehead, and he lingers.
Your heart is hammering hard in your chest - even though it’s not the kiss you were secretly hoping to receive, it still feels amazing and different from all the previous times he’d kissed you on the forehead before. This time it feels more intimate, so you find the courage to wrap your arms around his buff figure, hands now resting on his broad shoulders while his hands are still cupping your face and his lips are still pressed against your skin.
It feels so intimate and so magical, and you can’t think of anything else besides - “I love you.”
You feel Changbin’s body freeze under your touch as soon as he registers your words, and you can’t believe you just said that out loud. Like, for real. You just told Changbin you love him. Changbin. Your friend and roommate Changbin. The guy you’re currently on a fake-real-date with. You just told him you love him. This could either ruin what you have forever or potentially turn into the best thing that’s ever happened to you.
So, you take a deep breath. You’re really doing this.
“I’m in love with you, Changbin.”, you clarify - you want to make sure he doesn’t misunderstand your words and think you love him just as a friend. “Have been for a while now. I didn’t want to ruin what we have - I didn’t want to risk losing you.”, your voice trembles. “But tonight - I guess this whole fake date thing messed with my head more than it should’ve. So yeah - I love you.”
It’s a shitty confession, you’re aware of that. To be honest - you weren’t even planning on confessing to Changbin, like, ever, so you’re surprised you even found the courage to try to put your thoughts into words.
He doesn’t react at first, still frozen in his spot with his hands on your face, and you mentally prepare yourself for the upcoming rejection. When you hear him inhale deeply through his nostrils and pull away from you, you squeeze your eyes shut - a scarce attempt to get ready for the words you’re sure you’re about to hear.
“Y/n.”, he says instead, voice calm, tho a bit quivery. “Yah, open your eyes.” You really don’t want to, but you do it anyways. You decided to pour your heart to him - which means that now you have to be mature about it and find in yourself the courage to face him. You open your eyes and snap your head up to meet his without uttering a single word - you’ve said too much already. “Is it true?” Changbin’s words come out in a whisper.
You just nod slowly, not breaking the eye contact, and you don’t miss the way his breath gets caught in his throat.
“You’re really in love with me? You’re not- You’re not messing with me, are you?”, he rambles and desperately tries to swallow the lump in his throat as his brain processes what’s happening.
“I’m not messing with you.”
He leans forward and presses his forehead against yours - his hair tickles your skin, and your heart starts beating faster in your chest. “Can I kiss you?”, he whispers, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.
“Yes.”
You feel your legs buckle when he finally presses his lips against yours. His lips feel as heavenly as you imagined, and you can’t believe you’re finally kissing him. It’s chaste and innocent at first, but when you pull him closer, he takes it as a sign to deepen the kiss. Then you feel his tongue gently brush against your lower lip and you feel like your legs are about to give in for good. As you kiss, he moves his hands from your face to your waist, not pulling away as you practically make out on your porch.
It’s you who breaks the kiss first, resting your forehead against his as you try to regain your breath - still a bit dazed from the mind-blowing kiss. His hands are still on your waist, fingers gently squeezing you as you’re trying to find the courage to ask him the next question. “Do you… want to come in?”, you whisper on his lips.
He chuckles, “Of course I do, do you want me to sleep in the car?”
You realize he clearly didn’t understand what you were implying. You clear your throat, embarrassed - cheeks turning red. “No, I mean - do you want to come in?”, you repeat, hoping this time he’d get the message.
He does, because his breath hitches as he freezes once again. He pulls away gently and finds you staring at him with big, doe eyes. He’s looking for any signs of uncertainty in your eyes, but can’t find any - you’re sure about it, you want him. And of course he wants you, too, how could he not? He’s crazy about you, has been for years but has always been too much of a coward to confess his feelings to you.
“Are you sure?”, he asks you, and you nod vigorously, then peck his lips once more.
⚡︎
Changbin is nervous.
He’s about to sleep with you and the truth is - he’s scared. What if you don’t like it? What if he can’t make you cum? It’s a reasonable fear, isn’t it? After all, it’s your first time sleeping together - it usually takes time to figure out what your partner likes or dislikes. He’s slept with a few girls and he’s definitely experienced in the sex field - though he can’t help but feel a little self-conscious. He wants to make you feel good, he wants to pleasure you - he wants to live up to your expectations.
You seem to sense his nervousness, because you break the kiss by gently pulling away from him. You’re laying on your bed and he’s between your legs - both of you still fully clothed, making out like a couple of horny teenagers. He’s propped up on his elbows, muscular chest against yours and you can feel his erection pressing against your inner thigh.
“We don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable.”, you whisper on his lips, gently stroking away one lock of hair from his face. “We can just lie down and cuddle.”, you place a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose.
Now - he feels even dumber than before, because all his awkwardness led you to thinking he doesn’t want this. As if he hasn't literally dreamed of this, as if he’s not crazy about you, as if he hasn’t spent the last months trying to figure out how to find the courage to pour his heart to you.
“No!”, he almost shouts, and you giggle at his eagerness, which makes him blush slightly. “I mean - No, I want this. Very much.”, he says as he caresses your cheek with his knuckles delicately. “It’s just - I don’t want to mess it up.”, he admits.
“You won’t mess it up.”, you reassure him, pecking his plump lips.
His breath hitches in his throat once again when he feels your hands travel all the way to the hem of his shirt, until you place them underneath it - your cold fingers now touching his bare back and he hisses at the feeling.
“Sorry. Cold hands.”, you giggle.
He kisses your lips in response, then lets his own hand travel across your body until it reaches your hip, gently squeezing it through your clothes. It’s only when you move your hands to unbutton his shirt that he realizes - it’s happening. You’re about to undress each other and see each other naked and sleep together. It’s not his brain playing a trick on him, no - it’s really happening. That encourages him to slip one hand slip under the soft fabric of your top until he reaches one of your breasts, gently cupping it. You’re wearing a bra and he can’t really feel your nipples through the fabric, but it makes his dick throb in his pants nonetheless.
“Take this off?”, you whisper as you unbutton another button of his shirt, revealing part of his collarbone.
He nods quickly, retrieving his hand from underneath your top only to kneel between your thighs - desperately trying to unbutton his damn shirt as fast as possible despite his shaky hands. He eventually takes it off, letting it fly across the room without a care in the world.
You bite down on your lower lip, then you lift up your body so that you’re now sitting on the bed, and take off your top as well. Changbin hisses at the sight of you in a bra - a sight he never thought he’d be able to witness. Then, your hands reach for the button of his pants, brushing against his clothed dick in the process and his breath gets caught in his throat.
“You’re beautiful.”, he whispers, unable to tear his eyes off of you as you fidget with the zipper of his pants.
You snap your head up to meet his eyes and smile at him - cheeks flushing red at the sudden compliment. Finally, you manage to undo his pants, revealing the waistband of his underwear. “Off.”, you whisper, leaving a series of chaste kisses from his navel to the fabric of his boxers, which makes him shiver.
He gets up from the bed and so do you, unzipping your pants as well, letting them slide off your thighs, revealing your underwear to Changbin, whose eyes widen in shock as he slides his own pants off.
“I know I already said it, but - you’re beautiful.”, he repeats, placing both of his hands on your waist and pulling you closer for a kiss - his cock is now pressing on your belly, painfully hard. “So perfect.”, he moves one hand to your ass, squeezing the soft flesh as he begins to leave wet kisses on your neck.
“Bin.”, you whimper when his lips reach your collarbone, gently sucking on the skin, careful not to leave any marks.
Changbin can’t help but groan and shut his eyes close as soon as he hears those words leave your mouth. It’s all real, he’s not dreaming. You’re really in his arms, he’s really kissing you - it’s not one of his dreams, it’s all real. You’re in your room, both of you in only your underwear, ready to discover each other’s bodies for the first time.
There’s always some awkwardness lingering in the air the first time you sleep with someone - whether you’ve known the other person for years or they are total strangers, whether you’re inexperienced or have done this before.
Now that Changbin is in front of you in only his underwear, all the confidence you previously had in you suddenly vanishes. What if you won’t live up to his expectations? What if it’ll be awkward? What if he doesn’t like it - doesn’t like your naked body? What if - after you sleep together - he realizes he doesn’t like you that way and wants to go back to being just friends and roommates? Will you be able to be just friends with him - pretend that nothing happened?
“Hey.”, he places two fingers under your chin and delicately lifts your head so that your eyes would meet - he sees it all in your gaze. “Now you’re the one who seems uncomfortable.”, he gives you a warm smile.
“I’m not.”, you promise. You want this, you do want to sleep with him, you’re sure of that. It’s more the repercussions of your night together that scare you, not the act per se.
“Good.” Changbin places a kiss on your lips. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me.”, he says, piercing eyes staring deep into yours. “I want you to be yourself when you’re with me - I want you to feel safe with me.”
You know you’re safe with him, and you feel definitely free to be yourself around him. That’s why you fell for him in the first place - he always makes you feel appreciated and understood, he’s a true angel.
“I do.”, you promptly say. “I always feel safe with you - that’s why I love you.”, you whisper. He bites your lower lip once those words leave your mouth - as if those were the words he’d been dying to hear, and you yelp in surprise, but melt into the kiss.
He squeezes your asscheek, then grinds his body against yours - your boobs now pressing against his pecs and his hard length positioned on your belly, right above your clothed core. Then, he pulls away from the kiss.
“Lie down on the bed for me.”
You gulp, staring at him with wide eyes and parted lips. It’s as if your words have suddenly awakened something inside of him - a side of him you’ve never seen, for obvious reasons. He sounds impatient, desperate to feel more - to be as close as possible to you.
You do as he asked, letting your back fall on the soft mattress as Changbin crawls on the bed an positions himself above you - his buff body hovering over yours, the palm of his hands at each side of your face as he stares into your eyes. You spread your thighs to welcome him between them once again - only this time you’re both almost fully undressed, only the thin layers of your underwear between you. He’s rock hard in the confines of his boxers just like you’re already dripping wet inside your panties - it’s mutual, you realize.
“Can I taste you, princess?” Changbin whispers as his lips leave a series of wet kisses on your neck, making you shiver as you try to hold back a shameless moan.
You want nothing more than for Changbin to eat you out - you’re sure you’ve even had a wet dream about this scenario, to be honest. You nod frantically, your hands roaming around his bare back, nails delicately scraping his skin. “Yes.”, you pant, and you feel his length twitch in response.
He leaves a trail of kisses that goes from your neck to your navel and finally, he places a chaste kiss on the thin fabric of your panties - right on your clothed clit. Your hips buckle at the sudden contact, and don’t miss the way he chuckles. When he hooks his fingers to each side of your underwear and begins to pull down, you feel the urge to instinctively close your legs - suddenly feeling too exposed -, but he halts your movements by placing one hand on your knee.
“Are you feeling shy all of a sudden, princess?” Changbin asks, finally getting rid of your panties, letting the small piece of fabric fall on the floor. “Why is that so, mh?”, he rhetorically asks as he places a soft kiss on your knee. “Would it help if I was naked too?”, he mutters against your skin, leaving another kiss - this time on your inner thigh, slightly above your knee.
“Yes.”, you whisper, but he hears you loud and clear.
He chuckles, before pulling away from your body to kneel on the mattress - pecs and abs on full display. “What my princess wants, my princess gets.”, he says as he begins to slide his underwear down his thick thighs, revealing his painfully hard cock to you in the process, letting it slap against his abdomen. You’re staring, you’re aware, but - it’s big. And thick. You wonder how it’ll feel inside of you.
He gets rid of his underwear and returns to where he previously was - between your legs, kissing your inner thigh. His kisses move closer and closer to where you need him the most, and you bite your lower lip when he kisses your groin - his hair brushing against your skin. He’s so close - a couple of inches away from your neglected core.
But he doesn’t touch you there - because he’s a fucking tease. In fact, what he does is place a kiss on your other knee. Your eyes widen in pure shock, you can’t believe he’d make you squirm like that. He starts to leave kisses on your other thigh at an excruciatingly slow pace, teeth scraping your soft skin from time to time - roughly, but not too rough as to hurt you. He’d never hurt you. After what it feels like hours, he’s back at your groin - hair tickling your skin once again.
You’re about to snap and beg him to do something, anything, when he places a delicate, chaste kiss on your pussy, earning a choked moan from you. You prop yourself on your elbows, not wanting to miss a sight like this - Changbin lying on his tummy, positioned between your legs as he licks his lips, ready to make his next move.
He licks a long stripe that goes from your slit to your clit, before attaching his lips to your sensitive nub as he sucks delicately, going slow at first. He alternates kisses, sucks and licks in a delicious combination that has you kick your head back as your breath gets heavier and heavier - heart beating fast in your chest.
“Can I?”, he pulls away from your clit with a grunt, and you’re about to ask him what, when you suddenly feel the pads of two of his fingers brushing against your slit, collecting some of the dampness between your legs.
“Please.”, is all you manage to get out - with a heavy sigh.
He inserts only one finger at first, making sure to go slow just in case. It feels weird to have another man’s finger inside of you - good weird, of course, you’re just not used to it. Your previous partners weren’t really fond of foreplay when it came to giving, and they’d rarely do that spontaneously. You’re barely accustomed to the feeling of having one of his long fingers inside of you - when you feel another one poking at your entrance, ready to slip in.
“Gonna stretch you out real good, princess.” Changbin groans against your pussy, letting the other finger slip inside of you. “It’ll feel so good, I promise.”
It already feels good, you want to tell him, but you’re stopped by his tongue - swirling around your clit as he slightly bends his fingers inside of you. He sucks on your clit and at the same time he thrusts his fingers in and out of you, making sure his pads would brush against your g-spot every time. Once he’s sure he’s found the perfect spot - he just knows by the way you’d kick your head back and let out a chocked moan -, he stops thrusting his fingers completely. Instead, he moves just his pads, rubbing your sweet spot as he kisses and licks and sucks your clit in the meantime. He feels you clench around him, and it’s his signal to just don’t stop - to keep going, and that’s what he intends to do.
“Changbin, I’m -“, you pant - you want to warn him you’re about to cum, but you don’t get to, because a particularly long suck on your clit, combined with the stimulation provided by his fingers, has you falling apart under his touch - releasing around his fingers with a series of whimpers as your toes curl and your hands grip on the sheets underneath you.
“You were so good, princess.” Changbin praises you as he slowly removes his fingers, careful not to overstimulate you, before placing a single, chaste kiss on your clit as a well done. “You came so hard.”
“Now it’s your turn.”, you manage to get out - still heavily panting and trying to regain your breath, but you still want more. “I want to feel you.”
Changbin lifts his body up and kneels between your parted legs, resting one hand on your knee as he brings his fingers - the one that were buried inside of you - to his mouth, letting his tongue swirl around them as he licks them clean. “Taste so good, princess, can’t wait to find out how you feel wrapped around me.”
Your breath gets caught in your throat for the millionth time tonight, but you guess it’s the effect Changbin has on you. How are you supposed to remain calm and collected when your crush is currently between your legs, naked, after eating you out as if it was his last meal?
“Do you happen to have a condom, princess?” Changbin’s voice brings you back to reality.
Your eyes widen and you realize that no, you don’t have one - another proof of your lack of action lately. “No, I don’t.”, you admit.
“I’ll go check in my room.” Changbin is about to get up from the bed, but you stop him by grabbing him by the wrist, halting his movements completely.
“It’s fine, I’m on the pill.”, you whisper, feeling your cheeks heating up as soon as you say those words. “I’m clean - if you’re clean, we can do it without one.”
Changbin looks taken aback and stares at you with wide eyes and mouth agape as his brain tries to process what you just said. You want him… to fuck you raw?
“I’m clean, but… princess, are you sure? I can go check, it’s not a problem. My room’s right across the hallway.”, he wants to make sure you’re not feeling pressured or anything - because you’re not. If you want him to put on a condom he’ll go check in his room if he has one - hell, he’ll go to the nearest store and buy some if he has to.
“I’m sure, Bin. I want to feel you.”, you whisper, and Changbin gulps hard.
“Fuck - okay, princess.”, he mutters, positioning himself between your legs once again - in the mean time, you take off your bra in a matter of seconds, revealing your bare breasts to him. He wastes no time in capturing one of your nipples in his lips, gently sucking on it as he presses his body against yours - his muscular arms resting at each side of your body, cock rock hard pressing on your belly. “Tell me when you’re ready.”
You’re ready, you’re more than ready. So you tell him - it comes out in a whisper, and it sends a shiver down his spine. He shifts his weight on one arm and wraps his own fingers around the thick base of his cock, aligning its tip to your entrance. He looks into your eyes one more time in search for any sign of uncertainty or discomfort, but he can’t find any. Eventually, he starts to push in, and you feel the tip of his thick length part your folds slowly, entirely coated in your arousal.
“Oh, God.” Changbin gasps once he’s fully settled inside of you - his cock stretching you out real good. It’s been a while since he had raw sex, so he needs to collect himself before he can finally start to thrust inside of you. “Give me a second, princess.”, he pants, face scrunched in pleasure of feeling your tight pussy wrapped around him. “You feel so good around me, you have no idea.”, he whispers on your lips. “So fucking tight."
Once he’s sure he won’t come on the spot as soon as he starts moving - he begins to roll his hips to meet yours. You wrap your arms around his buff figure, placing both of your hands on his back - gently scratching the skin with your fingernails, earning a series of deep grunts from him. He’s propped up on his elbows that are resting on each side of your face, and his face instantly falls in the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of your skin as he bites gently on your collarbone.
“You feel so good inside of me.”, you return the compliment - panting and whimpering as he moves in and out of you at a steady pace.
It feels perfect inside of you, and without the layer of the rubber you’re able to feel all of him - his velvety skin, in contrast with how hard he is right now, the way it throbs inside of you as he pushes back inside, stretching you out real good. Your hands wander all over his body, but inevitably end up wrapping around his biceps, squeezing them tight as you let out a chocked moan at the feeling of his flexed muscles.
“You like ‘em that much?” Changbin teases you, snapping his head up to meet your eyes, still thrusting in and out of your dripping pussy.
You nod frantically, feeling even more aroused by his words. “Yes, God.”, you pant. “They turn me on so much.”
“Really?” Changbin snaps his hips faster at your confession.
“Yeah.”, you whimper, kicking your head back in pleasure after a particularly hard thrust - Changbin’s hips colliding with yours. “They’re so big and… look so good on you. Look so hot.”
“Yeah?” Changbin pants as he leaves a series of wet, sloppy kisses on your neck - occasionally sucking on the soft skin. “I kinda figured that out, you’re always staring when I’m done working out.”, he chuckles.
“It’s not my fault.”, you whimper. “You look so hot in those snug shirts.”, you involuntarily clench around him when the image of Changbin post-workout pops up in your head, and he grunts when he feels your walls squeezing him.
“What else do you like?”, he mutters against your skin - eyes closed shut in pleasure as he tries his best to last as long as possible, but it’s hard - you’re just so fucking hot.
“Your thighs.”, you answer without hesitation - as if you’d been waiting for his question. “Look so fucking big and hot - makes me wanna ride them all the time.”, you’re not even paying attention to what you’re saying anymore - too lost in the moment, in Changbin’s lips on you, in his hips slamming against yours, in his cock twitching inside of you.
“Fuck - you can’t say things like that.” Changbin snaps his head up to look at you. “You’ll make me cum.”
The desperation in his voice somehow turns you on even more - the thought of him trying to hold back in order to postpone his orgasm and last longer drives you crazy. You’re pleased to find out he’s as whipped as you are - both too caught up in the moment to think straight.
“I want you to cum.”, you whisper on his lips and he hisses when he feels you clench around him - on purpose, this time, as you wrap your limbs around him.
“But I want to last some more.” Changbin practically whines as his hips start to move more frantically when he feels you clenching around him - he’s close, and it’s all because of you. He thought he could bear with how tight you feel around him, how deep he is nested inside of you - but you whispering such things in his ear?
“Don’t you want to come inside of me?”, you whisper, squeezing his biceps harder. “You don’t want to fill me up?”
Changbin’s eyes widen as soon as he hears your words. Inside of you? You want him to - oh, fuck. The thought of filling you up has crossed his mind, but he never really thought he’d get to do that. He thought you wanted him to pull out when he was about to cum, he never really expected you to let him finish inside of you. The thought is driving him crazy, and before he can stop himself - he’s already cumming, hot spurts of his seed coating the insides of your walls as he releases with a deep grunt, not even thinking about halting the movements of his hips.
“Fuck - I’m sorry, I-“, he mumbles incoherently as he continues to rock his hips until he’s sure he’s spilled until the very last drop.
“It’s okay.”, you place a soft kiss on his forehead as he hides his face in the crook of your neck, clearly embarrassed even though there’s nothing to be ashamed of. “It was hot.”
Was it?, Changbin can’t help but wonder. He honestly doesn’t think that cumming that fast can be considered hot - especially since he didn’t even get you off. Sure, he made you cum before with his mouth and fingers, but he’s a bit disappointed in himself for acting like a horny teenager around you, for ruining your first time together. At least that’s what he thinks - you don’t think he ruined it. In fact, you think the total opposite.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t make you cum.”, he mutters against your skin, sounding a bit guilty.
“It’s fine.”, you reassure him, running your hand through his hair, gently tugging at it as you rubbed his bare back with your other hand. “Besides, you did make me cum earlier.”, you remind him.
“Yeah, but not when I was inside of you.”, he whines.
You don’t care about that, you know it’s not that important. Sex is made up of different factors and situation, and it’s not always the same - even if it’s with the same person. You know that getting off doesn’t always have to be the ultimate goal and that it can still feel good even if you don’t cum, so it’s not a problem for you.
“It doesn’t matter, I still liked it.”, you place another kiss on top of his head.
“You did?”, he sounds surprised, snapping his head up to meet your eyes to see if you’re lying - you’re not.
“Mh-hm.”, you hum as you caress his hair, moving a couple of locks from his face. “Very much.”
Changbin feels a little more relaxed now, if he’s being honest with himself. He places a kiss on your lips before he shifts his body to remove himself from inside of you, kneeling between your legs. Once he pulls out, he can’t help but stare at your pussy - impatient to see his cum drip out of your hole and onto the sheets, hissing at the sight. His cum looks so good, leaking out of you - if cum can look good.
You, however, are preoccupied with another thought. Where do you go from here? You’d told Changbin you love him and then you had sex, but he hadn’t said it back. He doesn’t feel the same way, it’s clear as day. You wonder whether you’ll be able to forget about tonight and pretend nothing happened between you - you wonder whether you’ll be okay with being just roommates from now on.
“I’m gonna go wash up.”, you mumble, not looking at him, sitting up on the mattress - careful not to make a mess on the bed as you get up, retrieving a clean towel from a drawer to dry his cum.
Once you leave the room and disappear in the bathroom, Changbin feels like the biggest idiot out there. He immediately noticed something’s off with you and he still didn’t do anything about it - he still hasn’t talked to you about what you’d said, the whole you-loving-him thing. And now you’re clearly upset and confused, and it’s all his fault - he needs to fix this, he can’t bear the thought of you being sad or hurt because of him.
He quickly rushes to the bathroom as well, and knocks a couple of times on the wooden door. You don’t answer, though - you probably can’t hear him since the water’s running and you’re probably in the shower, but what he needs to tell you can’t wait, so he gently pushes the door open and covers his eyes - in case you don’t want him to see you like that, even though he’s still naked himself.
“Changbin?”, you ask - you sound a bit surprised to see him there but it’s not like you’re shocked or anything.
He’s still covering his eyes with his hand - which you find weird, considering he was literally inside of you less than ten minutes ago. He’s standing on the doorstep, not daring to come in just in case you don’t want him there.
“What are you doing standing there? Come in.”
He gasps, taken aback by your offer. Come in? As in in the shower? With you? He’s pretty confused about the whole situation, but then he hears the noise of the shower door sliding open. He removes his hand from his eyes, and his gaze falls on your naked figure, standing in the shower - back facing him. He seems hesitant to hop in the shower with you, so you speak again.
“Hurry, I’m freezing!”, you urge, and he finally takes a step forward - and then two, three, four, until he’s entering the shower, the hot water drenching his body as he slides the shower door close behind him.
Even though you kissed and had sex and he literally came inside of you - he’s still surprised about the intimacy of the act of showering together - somehow even more intimate than his dick in your pussy, if he’s being honest. This feels… domestic, the kind of thing a couple would do on a regular basis - and not two roommates, and it makes him happy, because he knows he hasn’t been seeing you as only his roommate in a while now. But you still wouldn’t turn your body to face him, so he guesses he better talk now - say what he’s been wanting to tell you for months.
“Y/n?”, he calls your name quietly.
“Mh?”
You still won’t turn around, so he wraps his muscular arms around your figure, right below your naked chest as he presses his body against yours so that your back is now touching his chest - his mouth so close to your ear it sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s nothing compared to the words he voices out next.
“I love you too.”
Your heart hammers in your chest when you hear those words - the words you’ve been dying to hear. You turn around and snap your head up to meet his eyes - brain short-circuiting as you’re trying to process his words.
“What?”, you mumble, still in his arms.
He smiles at you - red in the face, flustered. “I love you too.”, he repeats - now even the tips of his ears are turned red, he’s so cute. Yes, Changbin might be buff and muscular, but you know he’s secretly a softie - that’s why you like him so much, he’s got the whole package. “Sorry it took me so long to say it back."
His confession has tears well up in your eyes as you bury your face in his chest and wrap your arms around him, holding him tight. He places a soft kiss on the top of your head and gently caresses your back with his hands.
You stay like this for a while, under the hot stream of the water, in pure silence, embracing each other in a tight, heartfelt hug - both of you smiling and grinning like idiots. Idiots in love. Changbin’s soft hands gently brushing against your back and your head on his chest, allowing you to feel how fast his heart is beating in his chest. No words are needed, you love Changbin and he loves you too - words will probably ruin the magic of this precious moment you’re sharing together, a moment you’ve both been dreaming of.
⚡︎
reblog my works if you enjoyed reading them - it encourages me to keep writing more! ♡
if you want to request something, you can do so by clicking on the "💌" emoji on my profile. write down the scenario you have in mind, the skz member and the rating. i'll start writing asap. ♡
if you or a loved one has been diagnosed with. Captivated by a man with big sparkly brown eyes and slutty hands and a pretty waist you may be entitled to financial compensation
Pairing: Idol!Jisung x Female Reader ; established relationship
Synopsis: After losing one too many rounds of Hyungs vs Maknaes in Call Of Duty, Jisung gets help from his gamer girlfriend, who teaches him how to win and impresses his friends as she does so.
Warnings: Fluff. Crack. Swearing. Gamer SKZ. NerdSKZ. Lots of gaming terms used (apologies in advanced). Gun and knife use (in-game). The Hyungs are actually good at gaming? Who knew? Suggestive towards the end.
Word Count: 3.6k (lol fuck)
** Inspired by a dream I had the other night of exactly this **
Waking up to an empty bed on a shared day off was extremely unusual for you. Typically, when you and your boyfriend had the same days off, you’d both lounge in bed together well into the afternoon, just relaxing and enjoying each other's company.
You’d usually be starfished out across the mattress reading Webtoons on your phone while Jisung would be cuddled between your legs, his back against your chest while he watched an anime on his laptop.
So, when you woke up to nothing but emptiness beside you one random Tuesday morning, you were more than a little concerned. That was until you heard the faint sound of Jisung cursing aggressively coming from two rooms over.
A smile spread across your face as you pulled yourself out of bed and wrapped one of Jisungs oversized hoodies around your torso. It had been a long time since he had been in the gaming room.
With one comeback finishing and another one right around the corner, you haven’t seen any of the guys online at all lately. They must’ve finally all gotten a couple days off together because Jisung never went online unless all of them did.
You were anxious to see what game they were playing, and admittedly, excited for the possibility of a gaming day with your boyfriend. Sure, lounging in bed all day with take-out and anime was the perfect way to spend time together, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss the days pre 5-star comeback where the two of you would be in front of your computers for hours on end.
You grabbed your phone and slipped on a pair of comfy slippers before tiptoeing out of the room, giggling quietly to yourself as you listened to Jisung’s annoyed words sound from down the hall.
“Yah! Quit camping and come face me like a man, Hyung!” Something akin to a laugh and groan of frustration left Jisungs mouth shortly after before a loud “FUCK” echoed off the walls. “Lino-hyung, you're so fucking dead!”
Once you reached the gaming room where you and Jisung had computers set up side by side, you leaned against the doorway and watched him silently in admiration. Jisung sat in his big black leather chair, the RGB lights in the computer tower the only source of light in the room as they flashed different shades of red against the white walls.
His back was to you, his big chunky headphones covering both of his ears and his microphone stand that he got as a hand-me-down from Felix that previous Christmas was sitting too close to his mouth. You had to suppress a laugh when his lips grazed the metal mesh of the mic so hard you could hear Changbin yelling through the headset for Jisung to stop eating it.
He was a rapper through and through on and off stage. You made a mental note to get him a foam microphone cover to help keep his lips off the metal, and more importantly, help prevent Changbin from killing Jisung altogether.
“Top right, top right, top right.” he spoke quickly, his shoulders tensing up for a moment before relaxing again. “Nice one Felix. Good coms, good coms.” he then praised.
You watched him for a couple more minutes before stepping into the room and coming up behind him. You were careful not to startle him while he was so clearly focused on his game, your hands lightly resting on his shoulders so he knew you were there.
“They’re rushing B, they’re rushing B, they’re rushing B. Oh, hi Baby!” Jisung turned his head for a moment to beam up at you with those large, adorable brown eyes. He grinned and kissed the back of your hand that was resting on his shoulder before he went back to focusing on the game.
“Fuck I died. Innie, behind you, behind you! Fuck!”
Your eyes immediately became glued to the computer screen as he called for Jeongin again, another smile making its way to your face. They were playing Call of Duty, your current favourite game to play, and you had a sudden urge to sit down next to him at your own computer and join.
During the weeks leading up to the release of 5-star, you spent a lot of your free time online playing the game with your own friends while Jisung and the boys prepared for their comeback. Jisung knew you loved to game, he loved that you did, but he didn’t know just how good you had gotten at it in the hours you spent home alone while he was away.
You genuinely did love the game, as the franchise was one you played throughout your years growing up, but you mostly wanted to show off to Jisung and the rest of the guys. They would always tease you for playing cosy games, like Stardew Valley or Animal Crossing, and even occasionally Sims 4, so you were determined to improve your FPS skills and impress them.
“Fuck, how did you even see me there Hyung?” Jisung whined as you watched his screen go grey. He quickly switched screens to view the scoreboard and you saw that they were playing a 4v4 match. The hyungs versus the maknaes.
This wasn’t going to end well.
When it was the older four versus the younger four, it never did.
“Get on my level, dumb bitch.” Changbin taunted in response.
You felt Jisung’s shoulders tense under your touch when the game ended a second later, his death being the final kill. He hit the top of the desk with his fist lightly in annoyance at his comical and unfortunate death before a laugh left his throat.
“Don’t look at that guys!” he begged as the ‘Final Kill’ camera replayed across the screen. “Please! I’m so embarrassed!”
You couldn’t tell if the sound that left his throat was a cry or a laugh, but you assumed the latter as you watched the Kill Cam show his character flying in on a parachute. Bangchan had seen him clear as day and sniped him out of the sky, leaving Jisung’s character to fall dramatically to the ground.
You could hear the hoots of laughter coming through the headset, making a laugh of your own escape your mouth. Jisung turned to look at you with squinted eyes, a playful grin on his face as he stared at you in mock betrayal.
“Baby!” he cried as he watched your shoulders shake with laughter. “You’re supposed to be on my side!” he feigned offence.
“I’m sorry Bubby,” you giggled, earning a playful glare from him before he turned back around. “You’re just too cute for words.”
Jisung scoffed and planted another kiss on your hand as the final scoreboard flashed onto the screen. Interested to see how everyone played, you leaned in to take a look at everyones scores.
Hyungs (4/4) Score: 100
[3Racha] DaddyDwaekki99; Kills: 37. Deaths: 9
[3Racha] xCB97x; Kills: 30. Deaths: 15
[SKZ] Butt-Hunter1025; Kills: 25. Deaths: 18
[SKZ] Jin'n'tonic0.0; Kills: 8. Deaths: 24
Maknaes (4/4) Score: 66
[SKZ] BrownieBoyT_T; Kills: 29. Deaths: 12
[SKZ] Nimgnues148; Kills: 20 . Deaths: 26
[SKZ] XxMAKNA3.0N.T0PxX; Kills: 13. Deaths: 28
[SKZ] J.1.AnxiousBoi; Kills: 4 Deaths: 34
“Are you serious? How the hell did I do worse than Hyunjin?” Jisung grumbled as he looked at the scores, his face falling to one of disappointment. You could hear Chan cackling through the headset.
You let your hands slide down Jisungs broad chest then and hugged him tightly against you in an attempt to cheer him up. You kissed the top of his head before you rested your chin on it.
“Hey, I think you did great.” you voiced. Jisungs hand came up to rub your arm in appreciation, though he was still frowning to himself.
“You’re supposed to say that,” he mumbled. “You’re my girlfriend.”
You smiled down at him and leaned down to plant a kiss on his cheek. Jisung then lightly tapped his microphone to mute it before he reached up to cup your face, bringing your lips to his for a soft kiss. You smiled against his lips before pulling away.
“Good morning Jagi. Did you sleep well?” he asked now that he finally had a moment to talk with the game being over. You nodded and pressed a gentle kiss to his exposed forehead, causing him to beam up at you.
“I slept perfectly.” you answered with an adoring smile as you brushed some of the hair out of his face. Jisung craned his head back and puckered his lips once more, silently asking for another kiss, which you happily obliged to.
His lips were slightly chapped and dry, probably from all the talking he’d been doing and lack of hydration, but they still felt warm against yours. You felt a shiver run down your spine when his tongue found yours a moment later, your body tingling with pleasure the way it always did when kissing him, even after years together.
“Did you eat?” you asked after his lips pulled away. The guys were busy upgrading guns and changing their specs, so you had a little bit of alone time with Jisung before he’d be called back for another round.
“Mhmm.” Jisung hummed as he swivelled around and pulled you into his lap. He planted a kiss on your cheek and wrapped his arms lovingly around your waist before nuzzling his face into your neck. He loved physical touch with you, and he’d eat it up every chance he got. “I sure did. Just had some eggs and toast. There’s coffee left if you want any.”
“Thanks baby.” you smiled down at him as you wrapped one arm around his neck and pulled him impossibly closer to you. His lips found the skin of your throat where he began peppering kisses. “I’m really happy to see you back in here finally. You guys have been working really hard lately and you all deserve time off to relax and have fun.”
“There’s a double XP event happening this week so we’re trying to all get upgraded before we have to go back to work,” he explained. You hummed in response, content with the affection he was currently giving you. Jisung then pulled away, giving you a look of worry.
“Is it okay if I spend a couple hours gaming? We can go watch some shows if you want to instead. I don-” you cut him off abruptly with a shake of your head and a hand over his mouth. Jisung peered up at you with wide eyes, waiting anxiously for your response.
“Bubby, if you want to spend the day gaming with the guys, I’m all for it. I promise.” you assured him with a quick kiss to his nose. “I was actually thinking of joining you honestly. It’s been a long time since we had a gaming day.”
You moved your hands to tangle in the wisps of hair that sat at the nape of his neck, toying aimlessly with the freshly dyed strands of dark brown.
“Yeah?” he asked with a smirk. “You gonna’ play some Stardew or something?”
You grinned down at him shyly.
“Actually, I was going to ask if I could try a round of Call of Duty with you guys. Would you teach me?”
Jisungs eyebrows disappeared behind his hair as he looked at you in shock. His mouth fell open slightly, as if he couldn’t believe his ears, before it broke out into the most adorable smile you’ve ever seen.
“You want me to teach you how to play?” he asked, excitement already vibrating his bones. He’d been waiting for the day for you to ask him to teach you how to play all his favourite games, even though there weren't a lot of them. He was absolutely ecstatic at your inquiry, he could barely mask it as he jumped happily in his seat.
“Of course I will teach you Baby!” he squealed when you nodded. “I’m not very good myself, but we can do a one on one match so you can get used to the controls without being overwhelmed.”
The excitement and happiness on his face almost made you blow your cover. He was so cute when he got like this.
You shook your head quickly before he could even finish his sentence, causing confusion to wash over him.
“I want to play with the guys. Right now. I want the next round.” you chimed as you shifted on his lap, turning around to take the mouse in your hand. Your other hand landed on the keyboard and your fingers twitched with anticipation. They fell perfectly into place and you hoped to God Jisung didn’t notice how easily it happened.
Jisung was taken by surprise at your eagerness, but he just laughed and wrapped his arms around you and went to unmute his mic before you grabbed ahold of his wrist and stopped him.
“Don’t tell the guys I’m playing. I want to surprise them.” you insisted. Jisung raised an eyebrow at you.
“Surprise them how?” he asked slowly, his eyes suspicious yet amused. You beamed back at him and kissed his nose once more.
“I’m going to win this round for you. That’ll stop them from teasing you so much.” You could hear the guys shit-talking each other through the headset that Jisung took off and looped around his neck when you initially sat down. It was all in good fun, obviously, but they were making a lot of digs at Jisung, which only made you more determined to bring home a win for Ji and the Maknaes.
Jisung gave you a skeptical look, biting his lower lip in uncertainty when he realized how serious you were.
“Have you played this game before?” he questioned. You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly.
“Once or twice while you were at work.” you fibbed, hoping he didn’t catch on to it the way he always did.
“Alright, but if you fuck up my K-D ratio, I’m gonna’ be really upset.” he teased. He sat himself up straighter so he could lean his chin on your shoulder and watch. You rolled your eyes at him and let out a snarky remark, to which he only laughed at.
“Can’t fuck it up more than it already is, Ji.”
“Har har, very funny.”
Jisung hooked his headset back onto one ear, allowing you to listen in on the conversation as well. You took the time to make yourself your own gun class, one that you were used to and had been using for months prior, but you tried to act clueless as you put it together.
So far so good.
Jisung, and the rest of the guys for that matter, had no clue what was coming for them.
After going over the basic controls and giving you tips on how to play, all of which you already knew and more, Jisung unmuted his mic and hopped back into the conversation the guys were having about the new album coming out.
His hands were sliding up and down your sides reassuringly while he talked to the guys, acting as if he was playing, and you felt yourself getting jittery from the anticipation that tore through you when the countdown finally began.
When the clock hit zero and all players were free to move, you quickly worked your way around the familiar map and went directly to your favourite place to use your sniper rifle. Jisung snorted to himself when he saw your character pull the gun out.
“Good luck Sweetheart. Chan-hyung is a sniper king.” he mumbled quietly enough for only you to hear. You shook your head.
“Not for long.” you whispered back.
Felix’s voice came through the speaker suddenly, causing you to jump as adrenaline pumped through your veins. You loved the rush that came with these FPS games.
“On the roof, on the roof, on the roof!” he yelled. Jisungs finger came up to point out where Chans player was army-crawling across a rooftop like Felix had said. You pulled out your sniper, lined up the shot and POW! Chan had died in one shot.
“What the fuck?” Chan laughed in disbelief into his mic, confusion clear in his voice. “Are you using a sniper rifle Ji?”
You held back a cackle at the shock in his words, allowing Jisung to answer with a small laugh of his own. “Yeah, I figured I’d change it up a bit.” he answered. He sounded so casual, but his eyebrows were once again raised in surprise at your lucky shot.
Looking through the scope of your gun, you watched Chan climb back onto the same roof moments later and aim his own rifle at you, a flash of light in the distance. You were quick to get up and move, your fingers dancing across the keyboard as you changed position and sniped him from a different angle.
POW! Dead again.
Chan let out a string of curse words as his body rolled dramatically off the roof to the ground below.
“What the fuck dude!” he laughed again.
Your knew cover was now blown, so you jumped from the rooftop you were laying across and parachuted down to the ground, running for cover when you heard gunshots going off all around you.
“Ji, behind you!!” Seungmin shouted. You twirled your character around and pulled out a pistol, seeing Hyunjin’s character running towards you at full speed with nothing but a knife in his hand. You smirked at his antics and shot him point blank. Hyunjin squealed dramatically into the mic, causing you and Jisung to both wince at the high pitch of it.
“God dammit!”
Jisung gave you a soft high-five at your kill, and watched in awe as the game continued.
For fifteen minutes, you sat rock solid on Jisungs lap, your eyes laser focused on the screen as you ran around the map, killing off the hyungs and racking up your team's points. The boys were all shocked at Jisungs ‘sudden skill’, suspicious of him cheating or hacking the system, but he had lost the ability to defend himself as he was too shocked to even say anything in response.
He muted his mic and was cheering you on, congratulating you on every kill and assist you got. He had chalked it all up to beginner's luck, but when you got the game winning kill, sniping Minho from across the map where he hid almost too perfectly between two barrels, barely in your sights, he knew.
He knew this wasn’t your first, second, or even third time playing. Based on the wicked snicker on your face when the scoreboard popped up, deeming you first place on the team, he knew you’d been practising while he was away at work. And while he was envious of your skill and abilities, he was more proud than anything else.
“Okay Ji, seriously. What the fuck? How did you go from the bottom of the scoreboard to the top in the span of five rounds?” Innie was in awe. You smiled over at Jisung upon hearing the younger male's question, and before Jisung could answer with some cocky response, you tapped the mic to unmute it and spoke into it.
“Hi guys.” you giggled.
As much as you wanted Jisung to take credit, you couldn’t. You worked so hard to impress these guys and you didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to prove them wrong with their teasing.
“Holy shit, Y/N?” Changbin laughed in disbelief. “Was that you playing the entire round?”
“The one and only.” you answered back with a smirk.
“Fuck, I want you on my team next time. You snipe better than I do.” Chan spoke next. You shook your head and tsked at him,
“Sorry Channie. I play for Jisung and Jisung only.”
Seungmin scoffed playfully at your words.
“Fucking simp.” he joked. You laughed alongside everyone else before hitting them with one final blow.
“Looks like you guys are just going to have to, what is it that Binnie said last round? Get on my level, dumb bitch.” you mocked. The guys all burst out into laughter at your impression, Binnie included.
While the guys went on to boast about your incredible win, Jisung muted the microphone once more and nuzzled his face into your neck lovingly.
“You’re a little shit.” he teased, his nose tracing the shape of your ear. A shiver ran up your spine as his hot breath fanned across your throat.
“What did I do?” You asked innocently as you tilted your head to the side, allowing him to trace his nose down along your neck before planting a teasing kiss below your jaw. He squeezed your hips and nibbled your skin gently as he laughed at your innocent tone.
“You’ve been playing this a lot, haven’t you?” he questioned before biting your neck again and sucking the skin into his mouth. You sensed he was punishing you for playing him so well, but you didn’t mind. You loved the feeling of his mouth on you.
“Everyday while you’re at work.” You breathed out. “Gotta’ learn how to put the boys in their place for teasing you so much. Gotta’ protect my Bubby.” you cooed.
Jisungs hands trailed up your sides again before wrapping around you tightly, his lips teasing your earlobe.
“Fuck,” he whispered in a loving tone. The bulge in his pants that he was rutting against you was growing harder with each passing second. “I hit the fucking jackpot with you, Baby."
You let out a soft giggle and relaxed into his touch.
"I love you, Ji," you voiced softly, your eyes closing as he began to leave hot wet kisses against your sensitive skin. Leave it to Jisung to get turned on by you simply knowing how to play a video game.
"I love you more Baby. Can't wait to make you my forever Player Two."
This is so cute omg. Something about him really just says Help Me and I feel like it was portrayed so well without making him a complete baby (not that that would be a problem lol). I love the group dynamics too 😭 ngl "dumb bitch" is a go to for me (lovingly). And the end 😏 as he should.
I don't know that "flop" should even be in your vocabulary?? Don't be ridiculous
jacobvanloon
kianamaiart
titsay
yousharknotpass
izzy806
blakekathryn
