#warnings: breakups

[neocity-net]

[🔞] new addition to our library 📚 by tomie! help to spread the word everywhere by reblogging!

Regular - H.Hendery

Pairing - Hendery x Female Reader, Hendery x Female OC (Indrani), featuring Xiaojun

Genre(s) - Fluff, Angst, Smut, University!AU, friends to lovers, lovers to ???

Warning(s) - breakups, smut, cursing/swearing, depiction of depression, Hendery has rotten food in his refrigerator, toxic relationships, clubs, protected sex

Summary - Addiction can come in many forms, sweeping its victims up in a storm and leaving them weak beyond their imagination. Hendery’s addiction was not a common one that could simply be diagnosed, yet you set out to be his doctor, wanting to cure him before he went off the deep end.

Word Count: 9.3k

Author’s Note: my dear Indrani @ncteaxhoe, I am sorry for doing your character dirty but I hope you enjoy being the girlboss that wrecked Hendery

Taglist - @k-vanity @neocity-net (fill out this google form if you'd like to be added!)

Written for the Addictions Collab originally hosted by @127-mile. Part of my NCT: Seven Deadly Sins Collection.

Now Playing: Regular - WayV, RUNRUNRUN - Dutch Melrose, Breakin’ Dishes - Rihanna, toxic till the end - Rosé

The quiet ambiance of the campus library was your favorite environment to study in. Students and staff milling about combined with the sounds of nature coming from outside the rigid building helped to calm your mind from the chaos of classes and assignments. You often preferred to study alone, but you didn’t mind when Xiaojun joined you since he, too, enjoyed the peaceful mood of the library. 

It was yet another day of plugging through worksheets and essays with Xiaojun sitting across from you on the other side of the pale wooden table. You had fallen into a rhythm with the task you were currently working on but were rudely distracted from it when a third person joined your table. They plopped their backpack heavily on the table, causing it to shake, and loudly pushed the chair before promptly collapsing into it with a sigh. 

You glared over at Hendery, the source of your lost focus. He had already begun spacing out, so you knew he felt no remorse for disrupting your studies. You shared a look with Xiaojun, conveying the dismay from Hendery’s arrival and the tinge of familiarity from this situation. Xiaojun cleared his throat to grab Hendery’s attention, “some of us use the library as a place to get work done, you know.” 

“Oh, sorry,” Hendery apologized while straightening up in his seat. “Was I too loud?” 

At least he had the conscience to recognize these wrongdoings. “You weren’t too loud,” you spoke up, “but loud enough to bother me and Xiaojun.” 

“How long have you guys been here?” Hendery questioned. 

You turn on your phone to check the time. “Around an hour. What took you so long?” Normally, the three of you would meet in the library to study together since your classes ended at the same time, but it wasn’t unusual for someone to get held up with something or have other obligations. 

“I was hanging out with a girl from my interior design class,” Hendery shared. “I think I mentioned her to you guys before.” 

“Indrani?” you recall, remembering her name from the Instagram profile that Hendery showed you recently. 

He nodded. “That’s the one. But anyway, we went and got food from the campus center, and then I walked her to her last class of the day.”

“I don’t like where this is going,” Xiaojun warned, already seeing where Hendery was projecting towards. 

“Ugh, fine. I have a crush on her, but so what?” Hendery had just broken up with his previous girlfriend barely even a week ago, and yet he was now making moves on another girl. This was no shock to you or Xiaojun, though, because Hendery had done this before. More than once. 

You shook your head. “Don’t you think it’s a little too soon?” 

“For what?” He seemed oblivious to the fact that he was already pursuing a new relationship right after ending one. 

“This isn’t regular, you know. To break up with someone and then immediately go after someone else.” It wasn’t unheard of, but it definitely was not a common occurrence. Most people of your age know better than to be used as rebounds and know that it takes time to heal from relationships. 

But everyone heals differently, as Hendery had once brought up before. “And who are you to judge me?” Hendery argued. “I can do what I want in my relationships, and you can do what you want in yours. I just want to experience things while I’m still young.” 

Xiaojun chuckled to himself. “You say that as if you’re going to age drastically within the next few years. You’re not going to die when you turn twenty-five, dude. Relax a bit.”

“But then it’s time for my quarter-life crisis!” Hendery exclaimed. Your eyes met Xiaojun’s once more while Hendery went on about how your twenties are supposed to be your golden years or something of the sort. 

Yeah, Hendery was definitely not okay.  

Xiaojun > name a more iconic trio

8:05pm: are we still planning on going to the party on saturday? 8:05pm: i didn’t finish all of my homework yet and i’m debating on staying up later to get it done if we are gonna go

Hendery > name a more iconic trio

8:07pm: i’m gonna go no matter what so it doesn’t matter to me

Y/n > name a more iconic trio

8:10pm: where is it at?

Hendery > name a more iconic trio

8:11pm: the flyer said the club like two blocks away 8:11pm: i forgot the name

Y/n > name a more iconic trio

8:13pm: yeah i guess i’ll go 8:13pm: xiaojun you still have time though 8:13pm: it’s only wednesday you know 

Xiaojun > name a more iconic trio

8:17pm: right but if i don’t finish stuff now then i know i’m going to end up forgetting about it and i know i’m getting assigned more stuff tomorrow too 8:18pm: so like if i don’t do it now then everything is just going to pile up 8:18pm: and then i’m gonna be swamped on friday trying to get everything done before saturday

Hendery > name a more iconic trio

8:18pm: dude we get it lmao 8:19pm: i swear sometimes i can feel your anxiousness through the screen

Y/n > name a more iconic trio

8:19pm: so i guess xiaojun is staying up late tonight lol

Xiaojun > name a more iconic trio

8:19pm: sadly

Hendery > name a more iconic trio

10:58pm: if anyone wanted an update on me and indrani 10:58pm: things are going good :) 10:58pm: she just sent me a nude if that says anything

Y/n > name a more iconic trio

10:59pm: HENDERY HUANG WHAT IS GOING ON

Hendery > name a more iconic trio

11:00pm: chill we’re just casual

Y/n > name a more iconic trio

11:00pm: WHY ARE YOU SEXTING HER 11:00pm: YOU BETTER NOT HAVE SENT AN UNWANTED DICK PIC 11:00pm: ID BE SO EMBARRASSED TO BE YOUR FRIEND

Hendery > name a more iconic trio

11:01pm: … 11:01pm: what is that supposed to mean 11:01pm: actually nvm i don’t want to know 11:01pm: she initiated it first though

Y/n > name a more iconic trio

11:02pm: did you send anything back

Hendery > name a more iconic trio

11:04pm: yeah ofc  11:04pm: i’m not just gonna leave her hanging

Y/n > name a more iconic trio

11:06pm: dear god…

Y/n > Xiaojun

11:07pm: he’s worse than we thought

Xiaojun > Y/n

11:13pm: i hope he knows his intentions 11:13pm: and that he makes them clear to her 11:14pm: but knowing him i doubt he has

Y/n > Xiaojun

11:15pm: he did say that they’re ‘just casual’ 11:15pm: idk what that means though 11:16pm: i wouldn’t call sexting casual

Xiaojun > Y/n

11:20pm: yeah i wouldn’t either 11:21pm: i mean unless she’s just like him 11:21pm: but he’s going to want to date her

Y/n > Xiaojun 

11:30pm: he wants to date pretty much any girl that gives him attention 11:30pm: disgusting 11:30pm: i hate men

Xiaojun > Y/n 

11:36: :’(((

Y/n > Xiaojun 

11:40pm: you’re okay i guess

Xiaojun > Y/n 

11:48pm: :D 

Y/n > Xiaojun

11:51pm: okay no but like 11:51pm: he really has been people-hopping 11:51pm: i don’t think he’s had more than a few weeks between his last three girls

Xiaojun > Y/n

11:58pm: yeah this one was the shortest turnaround too 11:58pm: but i guess we just have to wait and see where he goes with this

Y/n > Xiaojun

12:04am: it’s going to be the same thing 12:04am: and you know it

Xiaojun > Y/n

12:06am: you’re probably right 12:06am: how much do you wanna bet he’s bringing indrani on saturday

Y/n > Xiaojun

12:07am: nothing because i don’t have money  12:07am: but we both know she’s coming at this point

Xiaojun > Y/n

12:12am: honestly yeah 12:13am: it would be a surprise if she wasn’t with him 

Sure enough, when Hendery walked through the door of the club on Saturday night, he had his arm around Indrani and wore a smug smile on his face. Indrani wore a tight-fitting black dress that showed off her cleavage and curves, attracting the gazes of many men in the club. You nudged Xiaojun and pointed over to where Hendery was talking to a few of his other friends near the entrance. “Of course,” you muttered, in no state of disbelief. 

“She looks nice. Maybe you can try talking to her and see what’s up,” Xiaojun commented. 

“Yeah, I will. Once Hendery gets drunk enough to forget that he came with someone,” you add. He had brought so many girls to these events that he often ended up having to ask you or Xiaojun whether he was with someone that night or not. 

You found your opportunity when Hendery wandered over to the beer pong table and jumped in on a team match. Sliding up to Indrani in a booth seat, you settled down next to her and introduced yourself with a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too. Hendery has mentioned you before,” Indrani shares. Her gaze was enchanting, and you knew exactly how she had fallen into Hendery’s grasp.

“Only good things, I hope,” you said with a chuckle. 

Indrani nodded as she took another sip from the colorful drink in front of her. “He told me about your chat with him and Xiaojun.” She paused to look over at the beer pong table where Hendery was gearing up for his turn. “I’m glad he has friends like you and Xiaojun in his life. He needs it.” 

You could tell Indrani meant well. The way she looked at him with so much passion and adoration. She didn’t deserve this. Hendery didn’t deserve her. The more you talked to Indrani, to more you saw just how sweet she was and how head over heels she was for the unfortunate excuse of a man that is Hendery. 

“You know, Hendery isn’t really the nicest guy sometimes,” you start. You wanted to warn her before she gets her heart broken like the others before her. Countless tears spilt for him, all for him to move onto the next target of his obsession. “I’m not sure if he has clarified the extent of your relationship yet, but to us, he said it was just casual.”

Indrani’s grip on her drink tightened just the slightest bit. “That’s okay, we haven’t decided on anything official just yet. We only just met, so I don’t want to pressure him into anything serious before he’s ready.” She was too kind.

“I get that, but listen,” you turn to face her in the booth, “I don’t think he’ll ever be ready for anything serious. If that’s what you’re looking for, I suggest looking somewhere else.” 

Her brow furrowed upon hearing your words, but before you had the chance to explain further, the beer pong table erupted in cheers. You both switched your gaze to the table where Hendery was celebrating in victory as the opposing team started downing their shots. He broke away from the crowd of people that were spectating the match and made his way over to the two of you, greeting both of you by name before offering a hand out to Indrani. “Care to dance?” 

You slid out of the booth to allow Indrani to take Hendery’s hand with a giggle as he guided her to the dance floor. “Think about it for a bit,” you called out to her, half-knowing that your words would be lost between the music and her tipsy state. 

Xiaojun’s eyes locked on yours from across the room, showing that he, too, had been observing the situation. You made your way over to him, weaving in and out of the sweaty bodies until you stood shoulder to shoulder with him against a wall in a quiet corner of the club. Both of you watched your friend feel up the beautiful woman in his arms before Xiaojun broke the silence between the two of you. “Chances of him taking her home tonight?” 

“You’d be a fool to think he wouldn’t.” You both knew Hendery’s habits better than anyone, which meant you knew that the couple would end up twisted between Hendery’s sheets before the end of the night. 

“Well, we know what happens at the end of this story,” Xiaojun says, as if reading your thoughts, “wanna head home?”

Xiaojun drove you home in comfortable silence, only his RB&B playlist and the quiet purr of the car’s engine filling the space. You had kept your eyes on the road for the most part but turned to Xiaojun as you came up with an idea. “What if I could fix him?”

“What?” You had Xiaojun perplexed.

“What if I could fix him?” You repeated.

You saw Xiaojun lift a brow, though he kept his attention on the road. “Fix Hendery? What do you mean?”

“What if,” you started slowly as you tried to figure out how to word your next statement, “what if, after Indrani, I show him that there’s more to life than girls and sex.”

Xiaojun was hooked now. “How would you go about that?”

“Look, I haven’t thought it entirely out yet, but I’m thinking-”

“Never a good sign,” Xiaojun interjected.

You scoffed, “as I was saying, maybe I get Hendery to fall for me next, and I keep him on a break from sex so maybe, just maybe, he’ll start to find himself outside of all the parties and relationships.”

Xiaojun hummed in thought as he turned onto the street of your apartment. “I like that you have good intentions, but I’m not sure that it’s the best method to go about helping him.” He slowed the car down to a gradual stop outside of your building. “Would you really be willing to take your friendship with him that far? It could ruin you guys.”

“Perhaps, but think about it,” you persevered, “he always says ‘it’s just casual’ so we could keep it ‘just casual’ too, you know? And if it’s ‘just casual’ then surely we could stay friends throughout it all. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? He’s not my type, so there’s no way we would end up together.” 

Xiaojun shrugged. “I’m only saying this as a friend to both of you, but maybe this is an issue for Hendery to figure out on his own-”

“But he’s not! He doesn’t even recognize that it’s an issue!” 

“Hey,” Xiaojun interrupted, trying to calm you down, “you can try if you want, but if this goes badly, that’s on you, and I won’t be choosing sides if it does.” 

“Yeah, yeah I know,” you grabbed your things and opened the door, “I just want to help him before he goes off the deep end.”

“The deep end being?” Xiaojun peered over at you with one arm propped up on the center console. 

You threw your hands up in exasperation. “I don’t know, I just want him to be regular again. I want him to be our Hendery again.”

Xiaojun called out your name before you closed the door. “He still is our Hendery. I’d trust that a good friend would know that friends stick with each other through their ups and downs.” 

“I am. That’s why I’m going to fix him.” You closed the door a little more forcefully than you wished, yelling a quick apology to Xiaojun before heading into your building.

Friends don’t let friends lose themselves. You weren’t going to let Hendery go down this path. 

Hendery showed up to lunch on Monday as chipper as ever, filled to the brim with details about how his night with Indrani went after the party. He began eagerly telling you and Xiaojun all the filthy details of the escapades despite being seated at a small table in the middle of a little garden within the music department complex. 

“She was an absolute dream, the way she deepthroated me and man, she’s so good with her tongue. Just thinking about it now makes me want to call her up and fuck her senseless. I may have been an ass type of guy before but after seeing her tits, I think I’ve changed my mind. She screamed my name so loud-”

Hendery abruptly paused, causing you and Xiaojun to snap back to reality after dissociating from all the sensual ramblings of your friend. Hendery’s eyes were glued to something over your shoulder, making you turn around. You couldn’t help but let out a hefty sigh as you saw Indrani making her way toward the three of you. 

There were only three seats at the table, so you excused yourself early so that she could have your seat. Indrani’s face flashed something of hurt, likely thinking that you didn’t appreciate her presence. “I’m going to class,” you inform the group before turning to Indrani. “It was nice to see you again.”

As you head off through the hallways of the building, you hear fast footsteps behind you. “Hey, wait up!” Xiaojun called. “Can’t believe you would just leave me with the two of them like that.”

You let out a laugh, thinking about the way Xiaojun’s cheeks had turned red while Hendery was recounting his activities. You tried to give an excuse for leaving him with the two lovers, “wanted to get a good seat for once.”

“You never pay attention in this class,” Xiaojun teased, rolling his eyes for extra sass. “Are you still thinking about your little plan to ‘fix’ Hendery?”

You hummed a slight “hmm,” feigning innocence before telling him, “I did, a tiny bit.”

“And how’s that going for you?” Xiaojun inquired.

“I figure that instead of an outright fake relationship type of thing, it would be more like a crash course on dating.” Xiaojun looked at you quizzically, not sure how you were going to pull this all off. “I show him how to treat a girl right and show him that it’s not difficult to do. Things like buying them flowers, texting them goodmorning instead of taking them home after the first date, sending dick pics, you know the gist.”

Xiaojun slowly nodded as he followed along. “So how are you going to break up the sex fiends?” 

“Oh, I won’t need to do any of that.” You knew Hendery well enough to predict his behaviors. “They’ll be broken up within the next week or so, I’m sure of it.”

And sure you were. Just as predicted, during the following week, as you joined the two boys for your regularly scheduled lunch at the music department, you saw the cracks forming in their relationship. Hendery was again spilling the details on the nasty sex he had with Indrani, this time in the back of his car. 

Aside from all the usual visual images he depicted, he also left little side comments that confirmed your suspicions. “You guys should have seen the way she took my cock all the way into her throat. I swear I’d marry her just for her throat if it wasn’t for the way she has all those stuffed animals in her room. They creep me out. Bunch of eyes staring at you while you’re naked and fucking their owner senseless.”

You shoot him a look, thinking about your own stuffed animals back home. “There’s nothing wrong with having stuffed animals, Hendery. Some of us like to have joy in life.”

Hendery scoffed at you. “They’re just so childish though, like the way she keeps texting me and asking what I’m doing, where I am. She’s so clingy, I’m not sure how much longer I can put up with it.”

Xiaojun’s eyes met yours as he took another bite of his sandwich. You shared a knowing look, both knowing what would happen in the following week. However, you had to put up your act as normal, trying to convince Hendery to stay with this girl and that maybe he finally found his match and should settle down. “Surely there must be something else you like about her besides her throat.”

Hendery paused from all the criticizing and sat back a little to think. “I like her style, the way she dresses. She always wears such tight, small shirts it’s like her tits are asking to be held and slapped.”

Xiaojun all but choked on his water, nearly slamming his water bottle back on the table. You laughed at the scene in front of you. “Well, I guess that’s something. How about anything not related to her body? There’s got to be a reason why you liked her in the first place.”

“I like that she doesn’t complain.” That was a start. “She doesn’t complain when I tie her up, when I blindfold her, she likes everything.” Back to square one. 

Even though it was Hendery’s choice to break off his little fling with Indrani, somehow, he ended up seeming worse off. The following week, he fell into a slump and failed to answer most of your calls and texts to him, along with Xiaojun’s. You waited until the weekend to finally go over to his apartment and have an intervention of sorts. 

Knowing Hendery, he was likely neglecting everything, including his classes, the cleanliness of his apartment, and his hygiene. You were not at all surprised when Hendery opened the door, albeit after five minutes of calling his name and banging on it, with no shirt on and his hair a mess. 

You barged into his apartment without a second thought, simply set on cleaning him and his place up and setting him back on his feet because this was getting to be pathetic. “Hendery, how long have you just been…doing nothing?”

He exhaled heavily. “Whatever day it was that she left me.” 

“No, no, no. She did not leave you. You dumped her,” you made clear. “But dumping someone is not an excuse to let yourself go like this. You have classes to go to and assignments to turn in. College is not just some fuck-fest. You’ll survive without some girl slobbering on your dick every damn night.” You made your way into his bedroom and started to analyze the mess that had accumulated.

“But I don’t want to do anything,” he whined. 

Rolling your eyes at him, you got to work throwing his clothes from the floor into his hamper and sorting trash into a pile. “Go get me your trash can and put your laundry in the wash,” you ordered, pushing the already full hamper towards him. 

He threw a tantrum like a child would, but eventually fetched the plastic bin from the kitchen, and you heard sounds of him turning on the washing machine. By the time you had finished cleaning a large portion of his bedroom, there was already another pile of clothes waiting to be washed. All your effort made you want to lie down on the carpeted floor, but your common sense said to fish his vacuum out of his closet and put it to use before doing that. 

Hendery had not been helping much aside from watching you and doing as told, which was theoretically better than simply lying in his misery and letting things continue to get worse. “Do you have water or something cold I can drink?” you asked, beads of sweat starting to build up from how much you were moving around. 

“Uhh, I haven’t been using the refrigerator for a while…” Hendery trailed off, refusing to meet your gaze.

“For fucks sake, do I have to clean that as well?” It was like he just totally stopped functioning as an adult. 

You dragged him to the kitchen and commanded him to start putting away his clean dishes that were sitting out on the counter and then wash the dirty ones festering in the sink. Once he was working, you made the mistake of throwing open the door to his refrigerator. 

Your nose was met with the pungent odor of stale food. It was so strong that it forced you to go outside for a few breaths of fresh air. “Men are disgusting,” you muttered before heading back inside and lugging the half-full trash can back to its place in the kitchen.

After nearly four hours of cleaning, folding clothes, and reorganizing the refrigerator, you lay in Hendery’s bed next to him while basking in the success of the day. Being his maid was so tiring that you started dozing off and probably would have fallen asleep too if Hendery had not broken the peaceful silence. “Thank you for coming to help me. I really do appreciate it.” 

“You’re welcome,” you sighed. “I just hope I don’t have to do this again.” 

“I hope so too.” The air seemed to still as if waiting for what Hendery had to say next. “How about we date each other?”

“No.” You were shocked by his proposal but responded almost immediately. You didn’t think he would fall into your plans so easily, much less of his own volition. But you should have known better. The man wasn’t just addicted to sex, he was addicted to relationships, he was addicted to the feeling of being wanted by someone, he was addicted to the pursuit of love and lust.

“Come on, please?” You shook your head. “Why not?” he insisted. 

“I don’t want to,” you stated dryly. 

Hendery rolled over to face you. “But it makes so much sense! We’ve been together for so long, and you care about me enough to come and do something like this. Surely there must be something special between us.” 

Mirroring his position and staring him in the eyes. “Yes, and that something is called friendship,” you responded. “I don’t want to ruin it.” 

“I could make you so happy! I know what you like and what you don’t like in a relationship,” he pleaded. Upon seeing your flat expression, he decided to continue further. “I know you’ve been wanting a boyfriend for a while now. Just let me be-”

You cut him off with your lips on his, effectively stunning him and stopping his desperate whining. “I’m giving you one single kiss. Take it or leave it.”

“But now I want more.” He pouted and looked at you cutely, something he often did when you had a snack that he wanted. 

The demon inside you decided to go crazy for a bit. Pulling him in for another kiss, Hendery quickly escalated it. His tongue was pushing its way into your mouth, and you begrudgingly let him but made sure he knew that by biting his lip when he pulled away to breathe. “Watch it,” you warned. 

“Okay, okay. Sorry,” he quickly apologized before going back in and kissing more gently this time. He respected the boundaries set and allowed his lips to mold with yours, following your lead. It felt good to be kissed like this, nearly forgetting just who you were kissing. You pulled away and flopped onto your back, suddenly unsure of what was happening. “Sorry, was it something I did?” Hendery blurted.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong, it’s just…I don’t know if this is the best thing to do for both of us.” You valued Hendery as a friend and did not want to lose him completely if things failed to work out…if things didn’t go according to your plan.

He moved closer, though he made sure to leave at least two inches between his body and yours. “But you felt that, right? You felt how we connected, didn’t you?”

You did, and you hated how easily he could tell. “So what?”

“So, what if we keep things on the low and see where they go. Not like friends with benefits, but we can start slowly and make our way up to being a more official couple, you know?” No, you did not know, but you wanted to get out of his apartment before anything else happened.

“Fine. We’ll see where things go, but don’t think I’m going to be easy on you just because we’re already close,” you threatened before picking up your belongings and leaving the scene of this emotional crime. “I don’t want sex, I don’t want pictures of your dick in my messages, I just want a regular guy, Hendery.” 

“Regular,” he repeats, “I can do regular.”

In the first week of your arranged situationship, Hendery had been as regular as he could be. He bought you lunch, waited for you after your classes, gave you his jacket when you got cold, and even bought you your favorite candy bar for a little support before a test. None of this was really new to your relationship, though, all of it being things he would already do just as a friend, albeit not this frequently. 

When you and Hendery showed up to lunch one afternoon with his arm slung around your shoulders, Xiaojun knew something was amiss. He looked between the two of you guys before quickly packing up his belongings and standing up, muttering under his breath, “no, no, no, I am not getting left alone with a rabid couple again.”

But truth be told, you were amazed with how well things were going. Hendery hasn’t had another girl over to his apartment since the day you came and cleaned up for him. You would know if there was someone else because you had started spending more time at Hendery’s place than your own. It only made sense since his was much closer to school than yours. 

Despite all the time you spent with him at his apartment, you didn’t let your relationship with him progress as quickly as you knew he wanted to. You knew what he wanted, and you knew to keep him on the edge. You had already set a ‘no sex’ rule that Hendery agreed upon for the first month, but he already was finding loopholes around it. 

He would take pictures of you, your ass, your tits, anything you would show to him so that he could save it to get off to later. Yet you never gave all of yourself to him. You were never fully naked around him and stayed strict to your rule even when Hendery was kneeling at your feet, cock hard and begging to be set free from his sweatpants, just as he begged you to let him fuck you senseless. 

The furthest you had let him go was eating you out and you sucking his dick. All the countless times he ground his erection into your folds and pleaded to let him in threatened you to give up, but you refused. You weren’t going to give in to him and his addictions so easily. You were going to keep him waiting for the best part of you, make him work for it, make him earn it.

You began to get a sense of just how touch-starved Hendery was become with the way he so eagerly bucked his hips into yours whenever he laid on top of you and the way he fucked your mouth whenever you allowed him the luxury of your warm lips. He would quickly come undone whenever you took the lead and touched his length, running a spit-covered hand up and down and all over his balls. “Please, can I come inside of you, please,” he would beg. 

You shook your head and refused every single time. “Regular, Hendery, regular.” 

“Having sex and fucking your partner is regular!” He’d cry out, but to no avail. 

Hendery practically counted down the days until the one month of no sex promise was over. He felt like he was withering away, and the only thing that could save him was you. He vowed over and over that he would make your first time together special, make it worth the wait. At first, it was just his own anticipation building as time went on, but soon you found that you were feeling the same. The end of your mutual promise fell right after the end of midterms week, and it couldn’t have come at a better time, the way you both needed an outlet to release your academic stress.

Sticking true to his words, Hendery set the mood for the night and made sure you knew how badly he wanted you from the second you set foot through his apartment door. His lips were on yours in a second. Passionate but fleeting as he pulled away with a smile. “Hey.” 

“Hey,” you mirrored as you noticed the shine in his eyes. 

“How was your day?” He knew to always ask how you were, what you were feeling. Something you told him about girls wanting to talk about their problems, wanting to feel acknowledged. 

“It was okay,” you tell Hendery as his hands find purchase on your waist. “I studied really hard for that midterm, but there were still questions I was unsure of…I hope I still did good enough for an A.”

Hendery stared at the way your lips moved while you spoke. He subtly licked his own before speaking. “I’m sure you did good. Don’t worry about it.”

“I know, I know. I just can’t help it when this test can push my final grade up to an A, and I really need it to-”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence before Hendery pulled your body into his, his lips meeting yours with fire and frenzy. At first, you were shocked, but you quickly melted into the kiss with your hands trailing up his sides, onto his broad shoulders, then resting in the curve where his shoulders met his neck. When the two of you finally pulled away, you were both out of breath, lightly panting, and foreheads stuck together. “You know what today is, right?” Hendery asked. 

“The last day of midterm week?” You knew how he wanted to answer, but you weren’t going to give it to him that easily.

“And?” He pressed on.

You feigned confusion, tilting your head. “Friday?” 

Hendery let out a low groan, nearly a growl, as he pulled you in once again, his fingers gripping even tighter at your waist. “You remember our promise, don’t you?”

“Oh, our promise,” you repeat with mocking innocence. “How could I forget about that?”

“There’s no way in hell you forgot about it.” His voice was deep and dark. “Not when you teased me,” he ground his hips into you, showing how hard he was already, “edged me,” you felt his length throb against you, “and made me go crazy this whole time.” He turned you around and led you to his bedroom with a hand on your lower back. 

As you entered his bedroom, you let out a gasp at the rose petals sprinkled on the floor, a trail of them leading towards his bed where a large bouquet of them sat. His hand trailed down to your ass, lightly squeezing it. “Like it?” 

“Hendery, I- oh my goodness, yes! I love it!” You were in shock at how far he took this. Never in a million years did you think the guy who fucked girls in his car after the first date would have such a romantic side to him. The very thought of him going to a flower shop, buying roses, and scattering the petals in his room felt like a fever dream to you. “I can’t believe you did all of this for me.”

Hendery leaned into you, noses nearly touching. “I told you I would make our first time special.” He closed the distance between the two of you as your lips met his again with even more intensity than before. He bit at your bottom lip, teeth scraping the soft flesh as if showing you how desperate he was to have more of you. You smiled into his lips, placing your hands on his chest and slightly pulling away from him but not getting too far. Hendery placed both hands on the softness of your ass, smacking your left cheek as he locked eyes with you. “I’m going to make you feel so good tonight.” 

He pushed you down onto the bed, and you fell on your back next to the bouquet, the other scattered petals shifting around as he joined you. You grabbed the bouquet and brought it up to your nose, inhaling their fresh scent while Hendery crawled up the length of your body, hovering over you. “Smell them,” you tell him, bringing the flowers up to his face. 

He does as told, closing his eyes as he inhales. “Nice,” he opened his eyes again, “but not as nice as you.” He takes the bouquet from your hands before tossing it off to the side and returning his attention to your body. His right hand intertwines with your left while his other hand falls to your breasts. He kneads at it through the fabric of your bra as he plants kisses on your lips, cheeks, and jaw. Slowly, his kisses start trailing lower, starting at your neck, where he sucked and bit hard enough to leave a mark before continuing down to your collarbones. Hendery lets go of your hand, wanting to use both as his fingertips snuck under the hem of your shirt, continuing upwards until he found your soft breasts once more. He massaged them gently before pulling back and sitting on his knees to take off his shirt. 

You followed his lead and took your shirt and bra off, leaving your top half bare and vulnerable. Hendery grabbed both of your thighs, spreading them so he could settle down in between them, pulling you right up against his clothed cock begging to be freed from his pants. “See what you do to me?” His voice sent sparks through your body, and you felt your wetness begin to pool in your panties. He leaned down to kiss you once more, letting his torso rest against yours, bare skin sticking together as he rutted his erection into your clothed core. You let out a moan as he brushed against your clit, causing your hips to jerk up into his. Hendery groaned at the sudden friction, and his hands pinned your hips down. “You’re making me go insane.” 

“Maybe that was the point,” you say with a sly smile, bucking up into him once more. 

Hendery’s eyes fluttered shut briefly in pleasure. When he opened them next and his gaze locked onto yours, you knew you had unleashed something within him. “That’s it,” he muttered, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your pants and panties, pulling them both down in one go. You pulled your knees together once your clothing was off, feeling the slightest bit shy in front of him like this for the first time. Hendery used this to his advantage, putting your ankles together and holding them up with one hand to expose your bare pussy to him. “You’re so beautiful, dripping and wet just for me.” 

He ran a finger through your folds, making you shiver at his touch. “Look at you, so sensitive already.” He continued sliding through your wetness for a bit until he finally pulled away and brought your legs down, proudly showing you his hand. His index finger was coated in your juices, dripping down into his palm and onto his wrist. He held eye contact with you as he brought his hand up to his mouth, licking from his wrist all the way up to the tip of his finger, making sure to lap up all of you. “You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this.” 

His hands fell to his jeans, palming at his aching cock before unbottoning his own pants and swiftly taking them off with his underwear. When he sat on his knees once more, you finally got to take in the sight of his full naked body. His hair stuck to his face, covered in a slight layer of sweat, his light casting shadows upon his chiseled chest and abs, his dick hard and swollen, the tip red and already covered in precum. 

Your walls clenched around nothing, already anticipating the feeling of his length inside of you. Hendery ran a hand through his hair, mouth slightly parted as he took in every detail of your naked body. For the first time, he got to see all of you. His closest female friend, entirely nude in his bed and all for him to take. His eyes ran up and down your body as if he were memorizing every dip, every mole, every part of you. “Spread your legs for me, beautiful.” You obliged and parted your thighs while Hendery laid down on his stomach, his face nestling right against your wetness. 

Hendery had eaten you out multiple times before, and you were no stranger to how amazing his tongue felt. You let out a whine when he licked a long stripe up the center of your core, his tongue picking up your overflowing juices. He did it a second, then a third time, wanting to savor the taste of you before continuing. Once he was satisfied, he brought his hands up to your body, the left hooking around your thigh and the right toying with your sensitive clit. Using the arm secured around your thigh, he held you in palace as he started his attack against your pussy, completely ravaging it as his tongue ventured through your folds. His nose brushed against your pelvic bone, occasionally nudging at your clit, making your body jerk around in Hendery’s hold but he held you strong and firm against the mattress as his tongue entered your walls. He ate you out as if he were a starved man and you were the first meal he’s had in days. 

You were so lost in the feeling of his tongue, his strong arm flexing against your leg, that you barely even noticed when he introduced a finger into your core. It slipped past your entrance with ease and worked in tandem with his tongue, stretching you out a little more before he inserted a second. He began curling his fingers, brushing that special spot inside you, making you moan and squirm. His mouth pulled away as he took in the full expanse of your body writhing because of his touch. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Hendery marveled at the way your pussy sucked in his two fingers, adding in a third and watching how your hole stretched to accommodate his digits. 

He thrust his three fingers into you, quickening his pace as your breathing grew heavy. His mouth dove back in, his tongue lapping at your clit and your sopping folds, picking up any of your nectar that escaped from your entrance. You felt that familiar heat in your stomach as Hendery continued, but he knew your tells and slowed down his pace. You looked down to the spot where his fingers were entering you and let out a frustrated groan. “More, I want more.” 

“More? Already?” Hendery chuckled. “Look at you, already so needy for me.” He pushed himself up and repositioned himself over you, his bare chest coming into contact with yours once more as his lips made contact with your jaw. “Were you as desperate for me as I was for you? I waited this whole month to fuck you, make you scream my name.”

His lips made their way to yours as his left hand reached over to his nightstand, grabbing a small packet from the surface. When he pulled away, a strand of spit stretched between the two of you as if it were a physical manifestation of the want you had for each other. He sat back onto his heels and ripped open the condom package, tossing the wrapper off to the side before giving you the oiled rubber. “Put it on for me,” he commanded. 

You sat up and aligned the tip with his and slid your hand down his length, unfurling the codom over his throbbing cock that was pulsing in your hand. Hendery’s breath hitched in his throat as your hand made it to the base of his dick then travled to his balls that sat heavy and full. You kissed his covered tip, using one hand to softly pump his length while the other fondled his balls. Hendery moaned at the sight in front of him, his hips bucking forward ever so slightly. He loved the way you touched him and his cock, the way you treated it so gently before it wrecked you from the inside out. 

His hands fell to your shoulder, pushing you back down into the softness of his bed, his left arm wrapping around your head and cushioning your fall. Using his right hand, he positioned his member at your aching hole, and your hands flew up to his chest in anticipation. He ran the tip of it up and down your dripping folds, using your juices to coat him before he slowly pressed into you. You whimpered and your fingernails scratched at his skin as you felt the delicious stretch of his cock entering your tight walls. He let out he most sensual moan as you took him inch by inch until he was fully seated inside of you, every pulse and throb of his dick only arousing you further. 

Hendery propped himself up on his left forearm while his right hand came to rest at your hip, holding you steady as he looked down to where the two of you were connected. “God, you feel even better than I imagined. So tight and warm. You take me so well.” His words of praise made you clench around him, eliciting a huff from him. 

He slowly pulled out until all that was left was his tip before pushing back in. The sound of your pussy enveloping him was so lewd it had you looking away from him. “Hey,” his right hand came to your jaw, forcing you to turn back to him. “Look at me while I fuck you.” Again, he pulled out to the tip and pushed back in, this time with more force. He repeated his actions, picking up speed with each time he shoving his cock into you until his was thrusting at a stable pace. 

His dick felt so good inside you, filling you up in just the right way. You cried out his name when his spongy tip hit the spot inside you that had you shutting your eyes from the pleasure. “That’s right, say my name, pretty girl,” he growled. You felt your orgasm creeping up on you again, wound tight like a rubber band about to snap. Hendery felt you clenching around him. “Gonna cum? Gonna cum on my cock for the first time? Cum on the cock you waited a whole month for?” 

You moaned as his dick reach all the right places, bring you to your edge. “Hendery, I’m gonna-” 

You choked on your words, and Hendery delivered a particularly hard thrust, his balls slapping against you. “Gonna what?” He rasped.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whine, “gonna cum on your cock, all over your thick, juicy, fUCK-”

Hendery sped up his pace, drilling into you and making you see stars. “That’s it, cum for me. Cum on this dick.” Your eyes shut, and walls clamped down on him as your orgasm ripped through you, making your body writhe beneath him. “Oh fuck,” he all but whimpered, feeling the way your pussy fluttered around him in waves as he continued thrusting into you, sending himself over the edge. You felt him fill the condom with his cum, his member throbbing and pulsing with each spurt. Hendery grunted with one final thrust, going as deep as he could, making you gasp at the sensation of being so full and so fucked out. 

Hendery let himself fall onto you, panting, his length twitching inside of you as your orgasm wore off. His head laid on your chest, listening to your racing heartbeat. “How was that?” 

“Amazing,” you tell him, eyes still closed as you come back to your senses, “maybe the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Was it worth the wait?”

“Well worth it,” you reassure him. Hendery hums in content at your answer while you both catch your breath.

After having sex with him for the first time, it felt like a whole new world was opened up to you. Hendery’s sex drive was insatiable for the entire week after that. He had to have you in any way he could. In the kitchen, on the couch, in the shower, bent over the laundry machine, anything. You were sure his desperation showed while you were both out in public, too, with how he was constantly touching you and biting his lip while he looked at you. 

Maybe you didn’t mind this. Maybe you didn’t mind the way he blurred the lines between friends and lovers. 

You soon followed his actions, all the stray kisses he left when you were least expecting, all the times he grabbed your ass at the end of a hug. You started holding his hand more often, sitting in his lap while he gamed, and kissing him whenever you parted ways. But that’s when you noticed it.

Hendery stopped reaching out to you, he no longer texted you sweet messages in the mornings, he didn’t hold you as tight as he used to, and he stayed out later and later with each passing day. In the back of your head, you knew that this was a possibility, that it was, perhaps, inevitable. Yet part of you was hurt by it, as if you refused to believe that the very thing you set out the fix was now the thing that was keeping you awake at night. 

Everything fell apart when you went with him to another party, thinking it would be a good way to unwind, when you saw him talking to another girl. Not just talking to her, flirting with her, eyeing her up and down, telling her words that he had previously reserved just for you. 

You stared him down from your seat as anger began brewing in your mind. As if feeling your gaze boring into him, Hendery broke away from his conversation with the girl in front of him, eyes sweeping the room until they found yours. You clenched your jaw as he took in your expression. He turned back to the girl, muttering a quick goodbye before begrudgingly making his way back to your side. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you spat. 

“Alright,” Hendery shrugged, “if you say so.” That was it. “I’m going to get another drink. Do you want anything?”

“No. I’m going to go home,” you tell him, pushing yourself up from your seat. 

Hendery remained indifferent. “Okay, suit yourself.”

You stormed out of the party as tears threatened to fall from your eyes. As soon as the cool, night air hits your face, you set them free. You fell to the ground, backsliding down against a brick wall as your hot, salty tears washed down your already searing cheeks. 

How could you have been so naive? How could you have thought you could fix someone so far gone? How could you be so blind to think that your efforts would actually mean anything? 

You felt so many emotions all at once. Anger. Embarrassment. Jealousy. Love.

You couldn’t go back in there. Back to Hendery. Yet you didn’t know what else to do, your hands shaking as you brought your phone up and called Xiaojun to take you home. 

When Xiaojun eventually arrived, one look at your tear-stained face told him everything that he needed to know before he helped you into his car. Both of you sat silently, his same RB&B playlist on, just like that night were you hatched this godforsaken plan. 

You were an idiot for thinking you could change Hendery. 

Days went by without any contact from Hendery. Perhaps he realized where he went wrong, perhaps he was typing an apology to you at this very moment. It was pathetic, the way you kept trying to delude yourself into thinking he would come back to you. 

Y/n > Xiaojun

8:10pm : i need to get out of my apartment 

Xiaojun > Y/n

8:12pm : i’m down 8:13pm : heard one of the clubs is doing a 2 for 1 special tonight

Y/n > Xiaojun

8:13pm : bet

You felt the bass from the music reverberating through your body as you made your way through the crowded bar with Xiaojun. You were thankful that you had him in your life, always there to pick you up when you were feeling down. Yet you couldn’t help but feel the presence of a missing third person whenever it was just the two of you. You pictured his smiling face, the slight dimples on his cheeks, the way his eyes crinkled whenever you told him the simplest of jokes. A ghost of his laughter rang through your ears, and you remembered the way he called your name, except it got louder and louder until it was right behind you. 

You whipped around, expression unreadable as you swam in a turmoil of emotions. “Hey,” he greeted you and Xiaojun, “nice seeing you guys here.”

“Yeah, figured she could use a night out.” Xiaojun said as you eyes stayed glued to the floor. 

“It’s been a while.” Hendery’s hand reached for yours as he spoke, but your ripped it out of his grasp. “Can we talk?”

“About what?” You snapped. Xiaojun looked between the two of you before excusing himself to the restroom, leaving you defenseless.

“Listen, we need to talk.” Just hearing Hendery’s voice was enough to send you spiralling again. “I don’t think this is working out.”

You nodded in acknowledgement. “It’s not,” you croaked out, fighting through the lump in your throat.

“I think maybe we’d be better off as just friends, yeah?” Hendery used a hand to tilt your chin up, his wide eyes finding your teary ones. 

His eyes searched yours while waiting for you to speak. “I don’t think we can go back to being friends after this, Hendery.”

“Hey, no, don’t be like that,” he pleaded. 

“I know we can’t, and so do you.” You shook your head, escaping from his grasp. “This is how you always are, breaking one heart then moving on to the next. I know you’re probably already talking up some other girl, just waiting to get them into your bed so you can fuck them senseless. Hell, she’s probably here with us right now!” Hendery could only stand there as you spilled your heart out. “I just don’t get it. I don’t get how you could be so heartless, so mean…Going from person to person as if their feelings mean nothing to you. I bet you don’t even think about how they feel when you leave. You’re too dense to think of anyone else’s feelings because all you do is think with your dick and nothing else!”

Hendery stood there and watched you talk through your thoughts. He didn’t even flinch when you put your hands on his chest and shoved him away, clearing a path so you could run out of the club as tears began rolling down your face. He stayed rooted in his spot even after you disappeared into the crowd of people. He couldn’t chase after you, not when he knew you were right.

This is who he is. This is his regular. Lust is his regular.

Autoplay: If you enjoyed this, you may also enjoy Say It - X.Dejun

[i-am-the-oyster]

Some not at all lighthearted thoughts about Maxwell's Silver Hammer

I've been thinking a lot about Maxwell's Silver Hammer, Joe Orton, and 'original sin'.

Orton was killed by his (male) partner with a hammer on the 9th of August 1967. He had written a script for a potential Beatles movie (it was returned without comment) earlier that year. He was due to meet with Richard Lester on the morning of his death, to discuss filming a revised version of the script, with Mick Jagger as a possible lead.

18 days later, on the 27th of August, Brian Epstein was found dead.

Less than six months later, in Rishikesh, Paul started working on Maxwell's Silver Hammer. On the face of it, one of Paul's 'story songs'. On closer inspection though there's reason to suspect it's more symbolic and less allegorical. The timeline is off: Maxwell starts in college, then goes back to school, then suddenly finds himself in a court. The second and third verses are dream-like in their unrealism.

The other three Beatles' frustration with the recording of the song is well known, but John also said it was their first attempt at writing a song about Instant Karma.

From this site:

Former Apple employee Tony King expands on the song's meaning a little further in Steve Turner's book “A Hard Day's Write,” by relating a conversation he had with John Lennon concerning his song “Instant Karma.” “John told me that 'Maxwell's Silver Hammer' was about the law of karma. We were talking one day about 'Instant Karma' because something had happened where he's been clobbered and he'd said that this was an example of instant karma. I asked him whether he believed that theory. He said that he did and that 'Maxwell's Silver Hammer' was the first song that they'd made about that. He said that the idea behind the song was that the minute you do something that's not right, Maxwell's silver hammer will come down on your head.”

Paul tends to speak of the hammer metaphor more like random negative events, rather than some kind of deserved retribution, but he did talk about the breakup like this:

That whole period weighed on me to such an extent that I even began to think it was all tied in with the idea of original sin

So I was already thinking something along the lines of: what if John and Paul had come to some terrible conclusion about "sinful" gay activity attracting divine retribution. They decide they need to find "the right woman" to settle down with, and resist these "sinful" urges. Paul deals with this, in part, by writing a freaky song partially inspired by Orton's murder, where he giggles at the mention of the word 'behind' (in every take, apparently). He also allegedly obsesses over the recording of the song.

So when I saw this section of John's lyrics sheet for Now and Then I gasped:

Remember when we thought our life <love> had ended the gods had been offended

Yeah.

[wield-the-mighty-pen]

I’m so happy to see Adrinette being cute 🥰

…but at the same time I feel weirdly uneasy…I cannot tell if this is fan service or some twisted foreshadowing

Help. I’m scared…

[afewproblems]

Season 2 Halloween AU Part Four

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

A very big thank you to @strangersteddierthings for chatting with me today and being such a great sounding board for the next update!

Synopsis: What if Eddie had been at Tina's Halloween Party in Season Two? Featuring Steve!Whump, Stancy Breakup, and Eddie just trying to keep up with all these new revelations about who King-Steve actually is...

***

"So…I have to ask," Eddie blurts out, cutting through the awkward silence that has fallen between them, "how were you gonna pick up your car before you ran into me?"

"I don't think it counts as running into you, if you were waiting for me Munson," Steve side steps the question expertly, flashing him a strange smirk that seems out of place. It falls after a second and twists into something pained.

"I was hoping Nance would take me," Steve says eventually, his voice soft, "which was pretty stupid in hindsight, 'specially cuz she was counting on me to drive her this morning, which--"

Steve cuts himself, snapping his mouth shut with a harsh click of teeth, he shakes his head and lifts his hand to run roughly through his hair.

"Doesn't matter anymore".

Eddie holds his breath, feeling the conversation begin to shift. It's as though he's stepped onto a tightrope and any wrong move could potentially send him over the edge.

He settles for nodding once, turning the key in the ignition.

Steve sighs and lets himself fall back into his seat, "I know you know already, the whole fucking school does, Billy saw to that," Steve gestures to his face, "say what you really want to ask". 

Eddie's fingers tighten around the wheel as he turns them out of the parking lot, fighting the immediate urge to say, 'why did Miss Priss throw it all away?' 

"You think I believe the rumours that come out of that shithole?" Eddie lies, keeping his eyes on the road this time.

He can feel Steve's unimpressed stare as they continue down mainstreet.

"Right, so you had no clue I was in detention?"

Eddie chews the inside of his cheek to fight the sly grin that begins to creep over his face, "Alright smart ass".

He hazards another glance at Steve as they begin to hit the residential area, he looks so different from the night before.

His limbs are loose, tension free, if it weren't for the heavy bags under Steve's eyes and the nervous tap of his fingers on the passenger door, Eddie would think he was finally relaxed.

"I knew a fight definitely happened, it's Hargrove," Eddie says slowly, carefully weighing his words, "but I typically prefer to hear the whole sordid story from the source before I pass any judgements, ya know?" 

Steve doesn't say anything as they continue driving through residential  the houses getting progressively bigger as they go.

"Did you," Steve pauses and breathes out slowly before shaking his head and lifting his face to meet Eddie's gaze, "is that offer for something stronger still open?" 

Eddie smiles, "I think that can be arranged". 

***

Eddie pulls over beside Tina Cline's house, wincing as the right front tire rolls over the curb and bounces the van as it lands on the street once more, startling a snort out of Steve. 

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up Harrington," Eddie huffs as Steve shoots him a grin.

"Didn't say a word," Steve hums, unbuckling himself from the seat. Eddie watches as he opens the door and hops out. For a moment Eddie worries Steve will pull the same disappearing act from last night but he simply stops beside his car door and motions for Eddie to roll down his window. 

Eddie cracks his door open instead, "window's broken, what?" 

Steve rolls his eyes, "whatever Munson, you know the way? It's north on 5th and--"

"Then two more rights, yeah man," Eddie says with a laugh in his voice, "I dropped you off remember?" 

"Fuck off," Steve huffs out, he's grinning though.

Steve swings the Beemer’s door open and slides in. He turns on the ignition and flinches at the loud burst of music from the stereo, the volume obviously set from the mood of the previous night. 

'I want to know what love is, I want you to show me--'

Steve slams his hand against the console, cutting off the song with a harsh crack. 

The van is parked just behind the Beemer so Eddie can't see Steve's face, but his head drops down onto the wheel for just the briefest moment before he slowly lifts it, turns on his signal and pulls away from the curb. 

***

Steve beats him to the house.

He's getting out of the car, which is parked on the long driveway as Eddie pulls up to the street. 

Eddie hops out of the van, hiking his backpack higher up on his shoulders, not bothering to lock it. Who would even want his shitty van among the BMWs and Mercedes parked down this street --hell, Eddie could have sworn he saw a Jag three houses down.

Eddie stops short of the lawn. The Harrington house is so different in the light of day, the strange emptiness that seemed to ooze out of the dark windows the night before has disappeared, leaving an ordinary house in its wake. 

"Well?" Steve calls out as he pulls a pair of keys from his back pocket and spins them once on his finger, "you coming or what Munson?" 

Eddie rolls his eyes and jogs to catch up to Steve who turns on his heel to stride up the walk. He stuffs the key into the deadbolt and swings one of the double doors inwards before shucking off his sneakers.

No shoes? Fucking rich people man.

Steve must notice Eddie's expression because he blushes and shrugs, "I know, I know, but my parents will be home for Thanksgiving this year so…may as well…"

He gestures around the sterile foyer with a tight smile, as though it explains everything. 

If anything, Eddie has more questions. 

Steve cuts off the thought by clearing his throat, "we should smoke outside, last thing I need is for you to burn a hole in the couch or something".

Eddie steps over the threshold and has to stop himself from whistling, were the ceilings always this high in this place?

He lifts his foot to unlace his left chuck, snorting at the strange little table in the middle of the foyer. A giant vase sits atop it filled with a mixture of what have to be silk flowers --no way they were real. He pulls the shoe off and tosses it to the side before lifting his right foot. 

Eddie never had the greatest balance so he hops back and forth with his right foot in the air before hopping as close as he can to the wall of the foyer and leaning back against it.

He finally gets the knot in his laces undone and throws the sneaker to the floor, dropping his right foot to the hardwood.

Eddie looks up to find Steve staring with a bemused expression on his face, he ignores the wide hazel eyes and removes the backpack from his shoulders -which can't have been helping the balance issue. 

Eddie unzips the top and yanks out the trusty metal lunchbox, sliding a wicked grin into place.

"You said something about outside?"

***

By the time they've settled, facing one another on a couple of pool loungers, the sun has begun to dip low, painting the patio and empty pool a warm glowing copper. It catches Steve's hair, which shines like gold in the dying sunlight, like some Autumnal Fae King--

Eddie wants to slap himself, suddenly thankful for the November wind that cuts through the backyard, forcing him to chillout.

He picks up the grinder from his lunchbox, unscrewing the cap to open it.

"You good with a joint this evening my good King?" 

He pours a handful of a new strain Rick let him try the other day into the grinder and starts twisting. It's not something he would typically share with anyone other than Jeff, but Steve seemed like he could use something a little more special tonight.

Eddie looks up after a beat of silence, "yo, Major Tom, you with me?" 

Steve's face is pinched, tilted towards the empty pool, "please don't call me that," he says quietly.

"Major Tom?"

Steve raises his eyes to meet Eddie's gaze, his mouth cuts a hard line across his face, the typical easy grin it usually houses is gone. 

"King-Steve," he runs a hand through his hair, letting the fingers linger to grip and pull, "I just, that's not who I am anymore, I don't--"

Steve swallows harshly, "that's all anyone could talk about this morning".

He drops his voice and octave, "oh, King Steve is so pussy whipped he let his girl fuck Jonathan Byers before she dumped him".

"Is that what Hargrove said?" Eddie asks quietly as he pours out a portion of weed onto a paper.

Steve shakes his head, "that was Tommy, but that wasn't why I hit him". 

Eddie nods, and lifts the joint to his mouth to run his tongue along the edge of the paper. Steve watches him from the lounger, his eyes follow the movement before he blinks and continues.

"Tommy and I had been best friends since we were five, he uh, he knows a lot about me," Steve lifts his hand to his mouth and chews the nail of his thumb briefly before dropping it back into his lap.

"Stuff I don't tell anyone, stuff he knows will hurt". 

Eddie nods, twisting the joint closed, he can kind of understand that, although the only person in his life that knew him like that was Wayne.  

And Wayne would never hurt him. 

Did Steve really not have anyone else like that in his life, someone he could tell anything to that wouldn't look at him weird or judge him. Someone safe.

"Anyway, Hargrove started in on me after that, but he's been fucking with me for awhile so," Steve shrugs again, "he saw his big opportunity here".

"Hargrove's been messing with you?" Eddie asks sharply as he pours more weed onto another paper. He lifts it and runs his tongue along the edge of the paper before twisting it into shape. When he looks up, Steve's ears have gone slightly pink and he's sitting strangely, slightly hunched and twisted.

"Yeah," Steve says after a moment, he clears his throat and straightens his back, "yeah, it's just been at practice so far, and I thought it was just because he wanted to one up me for my spot but," he shakes his head, "it's getting worse". 

"You know, I have a bit of a reputation around school," Eddie says slowly, carefully, watching as Steve freezes and looks at Eddie with wide eyes.

"The Hellfire club is more than just the game we're playing, it's also kind of a sanctuary for kids that don't have anyone to lean on, we look after each other," Eddie continues, ignoring the way Steve relaxes slightly, "you wouldn't need to play or anything but if you need somewhere to sit at lunch now…" 

Steve looks at Eddie for a long time, his expression blank, guarded, "really? Just like that?" 

"Yeah man, besides I get to use my 'Mean and Scary Guy' persona on these fuckers so it's a win-win for me".

Steve grins, raising one skeptical eyebrow, "mean and scary?"

Eddie bristles a little bit at the questioning tone in Steve's voice and can't quite swallow the urge to snarl, "yeah I mean you looked plenty scared of the town freak yesterday". 

Steve winces and immediately starts to shake his head, inching forward in his seat so he's even closer to Eddie, their knees are almost touching.

"That's not, I wasn't," he stops and takes a deep breath, "I was upset about Nancy and it was so dark outside, the trees--"

"You afraid of the dark Harrington?" Eddie cuts him off, the lingering irritation still simmers in his voice as he coos. 

Steve just looks at him, there's something strange about the haunted expression on his face that makes the hair on the back of Eddie's arms stand on end. 

"Things happen in the dark, in the woods," Steve says softly, his eyes drift to the empty pool again. 

Eddie opens his mouth to ask Steve what the hell he means by that, when a voice shouts across the yard.

"Steve? STEVE?!" 

The sound of someone running through the grass has them both of their feet, the joints forgotten on the pool loungers. 

"Dustin?" 

A kid, he can't be more than twelve or thirteen, skids into the porchlight that has replaced the last copper rays of evening light, the sun fully set by now. The kid's blue eyes are wide underneath a mop of curly hair and hat, he's breathing hard.

"I need your help".

Tag List: @eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @corrodedbisexual @starman-jpg @ilovecupcakesandtea @yoriposts @clumsiluni @pelinelin @phantomcat94 @lololol-1234 @anaibis @airconditioning123 @steveshairspray @hellfireone @sunswathe @eddielives1986 @tentativeghost @robin-not-batman @estrellami-1 @manda-panda-monium @tinyplanet95 @perseus-notjackson

Part Five

and for some peeps that I think may be interested! @steddierthings @steddie-there @steves-strapcollection @outpastthebrakers @henderdads @stevesbipanic

[uqual]

no nectar, no god

you called me cruel.

how easy, to forget the garden you scorched.

to curse the flower for withering

in the smoke of your swarm.

i was honey-laced hands,

shaking, open, ready to be stung.

i loved you even through the infestation.

even as your shadows hatched in me.

even as your venom bloomed under my ribs.

you hovered

from mouth to mouth,

called it hunger.

said i was cold when i wouldn't pretend

your disease was devotion.

you wanted a whore.

a sweet thing with bent knees

and no memory.

a cow in a collar

nodding for the slaughter.

you were never a honeybee.

you were a hornet.

a wasp.

the kind that burrows,

the kind that follows,

the kind that sings pain into skin

and calls it a kiss.

you haunt.

i rot.

and now,

you wipe your slate clean,

like you didn’t bleed rot into mine.

you buzz and buzz,

try on my face,

echo my ache,

build your little shrine

of secondhand sorrow.

but i do not wish to grieve you anymore.

i drown you in silence.

i press the nest to my chest and set it aflame.

you are ashes now.

there will be no second spring.

no nectar.

no god.

only me.

[glittergroovy]

Back To Black - Amy Winehouse

[headmate-heartbeats]

𐙚`꒰ᰔ꒱₊⊹⌞ 𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓮 ⌝ᡣ𐭩₊⊹ ⟢ Harlow, Dappling, Fern, Balsam, Pleione, Amaryllis

𐙚`꒰ᰔ꒱₊⊹⌞ 𝓹𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓸𝓾𝓷 ⌝ᡣ𐭩₊⊹ ⟢ fir/firs, deci/deciduous, bloom/blooms, sprout/sprouts, bulb/bulbs, bud/buds, flora/floras, leaf/leafs, fern/ferns, shrub/shrubs, bush/bushes, dande/dandelion, phy/phytan, spring/springs, rain/rains, 🌱/🌱s,🌲/🌲s, 🌿/🌿s, ☘️/☘️s, 🍀/🍀

𐙚`꒰ᰔ꒱₊⊹⌞ 𝓯𝓪𝓬𝓮𝓬𝓵𝓪𝓲𝓶 ⌝ᡣ𐭩₊⊹ ⟢ pin, ter, est

𐙚`꒰ᰔ꒱₊⊹⌞ 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓬𝓮 ⌝ᡣ𐭩₊⊹ ⟢ unicorns (nature aligned)

𐙚`꒰ᰔ꒱₊⊹⌞ 𝓻𝓸𝓵𝓮 ⌝ᡣ𐭩₊⊹ ⟢ emotional protector, caretaker

𐙚`꒰ᰔ꒱₊⊹⌞ 𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓮 ⌝ᡣ𐭩₊⊹ ⟢ Aisling, Calliope, Noor, Aideen, Vega, Sterling, Emris

𐙚`꒰ᰔ꒱₊⊹⌞ 𝓹𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓸𝓾𝓷 ⌝ᡣ𐭩₊⊹ ⟢ cele/celeste, star/stars, stardust/stardusts, glitter/glitters, shine/shines, bright/brights, blessing/blessings, wish/wishes

𐙚`꒰ᰔ꒱₊⊹⌞ 𝓯𝓪𝓬𝓮𝓬𝓵𝓪𝓲𝓶 ⌝ᡣ𐭩₊⊹ ⟢ pin, ter, est

𐙚`꒰ᰔ꒱₊⊹⌞ 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓬𝓮 ⌝ᡣ𐭩₊⊹ ⟢ unicorns (celestial aligned)

𐙚`꒰ᰔ꒱₊⊹⌞ 𝓻𝓸𝓵𝓮 ⌝ᡣ𐭩₊⊹ ⟢ delight, mood booster, soother

[bulldog-butch]

van as she appears in my fic (do you know how?) pick up the pieces and go home

[glimblshanks]

Abbott Elementary understands gay people better than any other show I've ever seen actually

[poemsonmars]

i would like to say

that i've forgiven you,

that i've moved on and

i don't even think about you,

but i try not to lie in my poems,

so i will be as honest as i can.

the truth is i am still

mad at you for leaving.

the truth is i don't even care

because i miss you so much,

it still feels like

a piece of me is missing.

yes, even after all these years.

please come back.

how is that for grief?

i am here, begging as usual.

i never really move on from here.

please come back.

i still remember your favorite color

and your favorite bands

and what your hugs feel like.

i remember how you used to

hide bouncy balls for me to find

with little clues,

like a treasure hunt,

because you knew i collected them

and they made me happy.

i remember when we used to

make each other happy.

please come back.

i miss you more than

i am angry with you.

i still listen to

your favorite songs.

i kept all of the bouncy balls.

-mars

[the-lighthouse-lit]

BBRae Week Day 4: “You’re burning up”

Length: 1,639 words

Rating: K

Excerpt:

But she was left wondering what if she’d hurried. Taken him up on that date, been a little warmer, trusted a little faster. If she’d made herself important to him a little quicker, maybe he wouldn’t have cared when his ex came calling again.

She’d just thought she had a little more time.

@bbraeweek24 📣

───

Raven’s hands laid idly over the keyboard. In front of her was the catalogue of new arrivals, but her eyes were on Garfield past her monitor. He looked at her stricken, like he hadn’t been the one to say the words.

The, “I’m probably moving away… at the end of the month, or something.”

It was nine twenty in a fucking Tuesday. Raven had been eying the growing pile of books on the reshelving pile and giving herself strength to load them up and file them back in their places, and generally prepping herself to get through a particularly miserable day of work, when he’d come in.

And usually his presence was enough to turn her morning for the better, not that she was admitting that yet. So when he’d come in, it hadn’t immediately registered with her how serious he’d looked—she wasn’t in her best frame of mind herself. She’d been waiting for him to notice she was off and ask what’s wrong. It didn’t click that today was different until he started talking.

“I’m… my ex, actually, contacted me, and… she wants to make things work. And I want that too. So…”

His hands opened and closed as he strived to explain—that he was moving for her, that she had a place in Bloomington and she was getting him a job there. The movement made her think how she’d never held his hand. It would’ve been unprofessional here, in front of the patrons of the library, and they’d never gotten out to that date he kept floating. And now they never would.

She nudged her keyboard to be centered on her desk, pulled up a random tab on her computer, like she did when she really got to work in front of him on any normal day, while talked about anything across for her. Today his worried stare burned her like it never did when that was the case.

“The ex you mentioned,” she said, for something to say.

His eyes widened a little. “I mentioned her,” he remarked, almost a question.

“The one who left to travel the world?”

It was funny how a story he’d told her to explain why he’d moved here, and consequentially come into her life, now became the reason he was leaving it.

She had to suppress a shiver. A gust of wind filtered through the cracks in the window, the kind of change in the atmosphere she wouldn’t normally notice. She’d been about to get her jacket when he’d come in.

“Yes. Her,” he admitted. Clearly, thought Raven, she’d been in his mind more than even he realized.

And then a stretch of silence.

She could’ve gone, ‘Why are you telling me this?’ She could’ve forced him to say it. But she didn’t feel like drawing it out. In fact, she felt like letting him right off the hook. “So I guess you won’t be coming around anymore.”

His explaining hand dropped, with hopelessness, but also possibly with some relief, she thought. “I’m sorry.”

The simple confirmation brought on a fresh wave of nausea she thought she’d curbed this morning when she’d skipped breakfast in favor of plain tea. She took a deep breath before she started loading the books to reshelf onto the cart.

She told herself she was being ridiculous. You couldn’t get your heart broken from a guy you’d only known a few months. She bet if she did the math she’d find she had known him for less than that.

He’d come into the library by accident the first time. He’d been looking for some store that sold rare video games memorabilia, that Google Maps swore should be next door.

She couldn’t get him out of the library fast enough that first day. She’d fought him on the fact that there had never been such a store next door, and it was pure bravado on her part: the truth was Raven didn’t know the neighborhood, just this library. She got on a bus in the morning and rode fifteen minutes to this part of town she hadn’t bothered to get to know yet.

When it turned out the store had recently changed locations, and Gar found out about it, he’d come back to the library to tell her about it. Then he’d kept finding reasons to come in. He had never hid that he kept coming back to talk to her. He was new in town, he said, and he could use a friend. She had always wondered if he could somehow tell she had no friends here either.

And now it was back to the real world for her. Back to her thoughts being hers and hers alone. Back to closing up what he’d been prying open slowly over the course of weeks. Why had she got so used to having him here?

Just like all the others, the thought snuck into her brain before she could check it. It was weakness of character to think on those terms—like her life was organized by some dire prophecy that dictated she should always wind up alone again, but it really did seem that way. Nothing good seem to last.

“I couldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t try to make it work,” Gar was saying now. “...I didn’t know how it would feel to see her again.” At that point she made an effort to tune him out.

Her heart thumped against her chest as she fixed the books neatly on the cart. It was hard to breathe, but then, it had been all morning. It didn’t have to be about him.

He was just a guy who’d made a friend at a town he’d lived in for a while, and she was just a lonely librarian who was being notified she’d no longer have that hyper blond distraction in her day to day.

But she was left wondering what if she’d hurried. Taken him up on that date, been a little warmer, trusted a little faster. If she’d made herself important to him a little quicker, maybe he wouldn’t have cared when his ex came calling again.

She’d just thought she had a little more time.

She shivered. This proved too much and he could finally see what was in front of him. Suddenly she was feeling his touch on her forehead: a warm hand connecting with her hot forehead, erupting into her cold morning. She slapped his hand away, but not before he’d felt it.

“You’re burning up.”

She was so, so angry—the feeling had taken over her before her mind parsed the reason why: it was the first time he touched her, and it was just as he was leaving her life.

“It’s just a cold,” she spat. And she faced him defiantly. She hoped her eyes said it: ‘Why would you care? It’s not your problem anymore.’

She was red in the face from wrath, but ironically it supported the fever he’d discovered: it was like he’d made her sprung into color with his touch, brought out all the symptoms she was struggling to keep at bay. It enraged her because it exposed her: no carefree guy on a random visit to the library reached out to feel the forehead of an uncared-for librarian. With a move he’d uncovered everything she’d tried to bury.

She looked away from his useless contrite expression, which she assumed he kept on her as long as he stood in front of her—all the way until a patron coming up behind him forced him to step aside.

The teenage girl smiled at the librarian, oblivious, as she returned two books and checked another one out.

Out of the corner of her eyes Raven saw Gar had stepped aside, and now made as if he was looking at the books on the front desk. She was annoyed—maybe if the girl had only come a moment later, he could’ve taken his leave. Now they had to wait out the whole transaction, and for what? He was leaving anyway.

Inside her was some vindication, and she dug to find out why; she guessed it was because she’d made him say his piece before he noticed she was sick. If he’d noticed before, he might not have said it. She didn’t know why that made her feel better, but she’d take it.

She would get over him and the cold together, she told herself: when in a few days her lungs were clear and she felt strong again, she wouldn’t remember how he made the world feel. She willed it to be true.

When the girl left, Garfield still stood by. Raven put her hands on the cart. She knew if she left now, he’d be there when she came back, and the thought made anger mount inside her again.

Why was he here, and why was she here? He was going back to his ex, and now she knew that. Why were they lingering?

Now, as she began to push the cart, she faced him at the last second and said, “Well…” a sign of finality, a final snapping of the feeble cord that united them.

And when she said it she found out why neither of them were making the cut.

His eyes met hers, and she felt like she’d brought forth a catastrophe. She wished she could take it back.

But he obeyed. He left the book he’d picked up and left, sparing her the humiliation of another ‘Sorry.’ She followed his steps out of the library, as it may well be the last time she saw him.

She couldn’t wait for him to leave and she never wanted him to finish crossing that door. But in the end he did.

When she went to refile the books, she decided not to pick up her jacket, so that she may pretend a little longer that the feeling she was left with was just cold.

───

Notes:

NO idea if I I did what I envisioned in my mind with this one (probably not) but here it is! 😔 This one seems like a thing I would've left in my files for months and eventually rewritten completely but fuck it! Out it comes now!

I’m late but I have an excuse! A thunderstorm forced me to flee my computer after work yesterday and I didn't want to post without a last read-over!😁

[neocity-net]

new addition to our library 📚 by tomie! help to spread the word everywhere by reblogging!

La La Love - P.Jisung

Pairing - Jisung x Visual Director!Female Reader, Jeno x Visual Director!Female Reader

Genre(s) - Fluff, Angst, friends to lovers, childhood friends!AU

Warning(s) - cheating (Jeno), miscommunication, reader and Jeno and Jisung all kinda suck at communicating their feelings lol, one breakup, Jisung is a sadboi who just needs some love and care 

Summary - As a busy visual director, you’ve grown to rely on your Monday night check-ins with Jisung, a quiet friend who has been your gaming buddy for years. What starts as a casual chat about work soon deepens, and perhaps the bond you share turns into something more.

Word Count - 6.6k

Author’s Note - The music video they’re filming is a compilation of the Dream-Verse chapters (1, 2, 3, 4)

Taglist - @k-vanity @cosyhomenet @neocity-net @k-films @cinneorolls @dinonuguaegi @tinyzen @fancypeacepersona (join my taglist!)

Written for the Dream Messenger Collab hosted by @nanasarea. Also part of my NCT Dream: Seven Days Collection. 

Now playing: La La Love - NCT Dream, Rainbow - NCT Dream, Life Is Still Going On - NCT Dream 

You’ve known Park Jisung since middle school, back when his legs were too long for his desk and he always smelled faintly of bubble gum and sheet music. You met in the computer lab after school, bonding over slow-loading RPG games and shared headphones. Even after becoming a trainee and setting his path to become an idol, while yours veered toward film school and production internships, the two of you kept in touch. 

Your chats were like save files you both returned to. Screenshots of weird cafés, game glitches, late-night existential memes. Especially on Mondays. Somewhere along the way, it became tradition to check in at the start of every week. Jisung called it your “Monday Login” as a reference to Mystic Messenger. He used to joke that he was your personal Yoosung. Loyal, sweet, sometimes a little too honest. You never disagreed. 

Which is why it’s not nerves that hit you the morning you walk into SM Entertainment’s main conference room for your first meeting with NCT Dream, it’s disbelief. All these years later, and now you’re officially assigned to help lead the visuals and creative production for their comeback music video. 

The scene of fresh coffee and whiteboard markers hung in the air as you stepped inside. The boys are already seated around the long table, easy and half-slouched in chairs, tossing jokes back and forth as the production crew passes out packets of information.

Jisung notices you first. His eyes are wide, and for a second, he’s thirteen again, long limbs and awkward surprise lighting up his face. Then he recovers, straightening with a quick grin that’s softer than the others’. “You made it,” he says under his breath as you take the seat next to him.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear. His shoulders relax. 

It’s been years, but somehow he still sees you first. Even now, with both of your lives spiraling in different directions, his packed with rehearsals, yours with endless editing timelines, he still comes over to your apartment every few months without fail. No fanfare, no agenda, just Jisung, your couch, a mismatched set of chopsticks, and whatever game you’d left unfinished last time. It was quiet and rare, and you never once took it for granted. 

So seeing him here, in this setting, older, taller, sharper around the edges, but still Jisung, something in your chest folds inward, tender and familiar. You didn’t just get lucky being assigned to NCT Dream. It feels a little bit like the universe remembered, too. 

The members greet you warmly, curious and welcoming, but it’s Jeno who steps forward, hand outstretched. “Nice to meet you,” he says, voice smooth. “I trust we’ll be in good hands with you.”

You shake his hand. It’s brief and professional, but warm. 

The conversation quickly moves into logistics. Shot order, wardrobe coordination, and prop timing. You show them the initial storyboard, flipping through frames you helped draw yourself. You skim over the detailed panels outlining everything from a sunset car ride to a dream sequence and the quiet symbolism of a single, flickering candle. Mark nods thoughtfully, Renjun offers a few notes, and Jeno stays quiet and attentive until the discussion turns to the scene with a candle between Jisung, Haechan, and Jeno, the one where Jisung shields the candle from their advances. “That’s the scene with the candle, right?” Jeno asks, his voice cutting in gently. 

You nod. “Yeah. It’s meant to reflect loyalty, the kind that doesn’t ask to be seen, but stays. It connects everything.”

Mark leans over your shoulder, studying the pages with quiet focus. “The candle…how long does it show up for?”

“Most of the video. It’s passed around a bit,” you glance at Jisung. “But he’s the only one who holds onto it the whole time.”

There’s a short silence, thoughtful, as the group digests the weight of that. “It’s kind of poetic,” Chenle admits. “Like, everyone’s loud and chaotic, but Jisung’s the one who never lets go. He’s the only one savoring the moment.”

You nod. “Exactly. He protects it, even when it’s small, even when no one else notices.” You don’t miss the way Jeno looks over at Jisung, then just a brief glance at you, unreadable but lingering. 

Jisung looks over at you, something unreadable in his expression. “You always did like metaphors,” he mumbles. 

You flash him a quick smile. “And you always underestimated your screen presence.”

“Do I get to drive the vintage car?” Jaemin cuts in, raising a hand like he’s in class. 

“I originally planned for Haechan in the driver’s seat, but that can be changed,” you reply, laughter and shouts rippling through the room.

The group warms up to you quickly, easier than you expected. Maybe it’s because you’re good at what you do. Maybe it’s because Jisung looks at you like he already trusts you, like he’s known you for half your life. Because he has. 

As the meeting wraps, you gather your notes, slipping your storyboard back into your portfolio. You expect the group to disperse and get into hair, makeup, and wardrobe, but Jeno hangs around. “Hey,” catching your attention. “Do you mind if I get your number? In case anything comes up? Choreo tweaks, set requests, candle questions…”

You laugh. “Sure, strictly candle business, though.” You hand him your phone, and the others follow suit, your phone traded around like playing cards. Haechan insists you add emojis next to his name. Jaemin tells you to expect selfie spams, something about wanting female guidance. Jeno quietly types his in, then gives your phone to Jisung. He returns it to you with a barely-there smile. He didn’t need to give you his number. “Are we still good for Monday night check-ins?”

You grin. “Wasn’t planning on changing that.”

And just like that, your childhood friend becomes part of your adult life in a new way. He’s intertwined not just through texts and tradition, but through a project that might mean more than either of you expected.

That night, the Dream group chat was chaotic as usual, only this one included you. You quietly scroll, amused, until your phone pings again with a notification from the Dream Brew Crew, named affectionately after the music video’s café scenes.

[Renjun 9:47PM] 

welcome to brewtopia, where the foam is romantic and the trauma is unresolved

A poorly edited version of Mark in a barista outfit with anime sparkles pops up in the chat. 

[Jaemin 9:47PM] 

DELETE THIS RN 💀💀💀

[Haechan☀️🧸 9:47PM]

bro’s got latte daddy issues

[Y/N 9:47PM]

please…I’m just trying to storyboard in peace 😭

[Jeno 9:48PM]

Reacted 😂 to your message

but are you laughing or crying?

[Y/N 9:48PM]

yes.

[Jisung 9:48PM]

.

[Chenle 9:48PM]

now why is that the most threatening thing I’ve read all day

You set your phone down, going back to cross-checking your storyboards with the schedules for the next few days. You wanted to make sure you were ready for each day of shooting, prepped for any question that came your way. Your phone dinged again, this time, a private message.

[Jeno 10:12PM]

hey, just thought i’d say that i liked the storyboard layout. super clean. did you sketch them all yourself?

[Y/N 10:12PM]

i did!!

trying to impress the visuals team

[Jeno 10:13PM]

seems like you’re succeeding

goodnight, by the way. don’t work too hard.

[Y/N 10:13PM]

goodnight jeno

i’ll see you tomorrow

[Jeno 10:13PM]

looking forward to it

The next day, Monday, you’re on set, the hum of the lighting rig is loud above you as you stand beside the monitors, headset resting around your neck. Jaemin, Jeno, Renjun, Haechan, and Chenle had just wrapped their second take of the café interior shot, the one where Renjun drops the plate. The warm faux-afternoon light filters through the fake windows, catching in Jaemin’s hair and making the entire scene look dreamy, just as intended. 

“Cut,” the director calls.

You scribble a note on your clipboard about timing and angles when Jeno appears at your side, slightly breathless from the scene. He glances down at your clipboard with an impressed smile. “That timing cue you added earlier?” he starts, voice low enough to go undetected among the crew. “Perfect. Renjun hit that mark without even thinking about it.” 

You look up at him, and your smile comes easily. “Just trying to make everyone’s lives easier.”

“It’s working,” Jeno confirms, nudging your elbow gently with his. His voice carries a boyish lilt that makes your heart skip. “I don’t know how you keep everything in your head. It’s kinda superhuman.”

“Caffeine and chaos,” you reply smoothly. “That’s my secret.”

Jeno chuckles. “Then let me be your caffeine plug next time. You like oat milk?”

You laugh, about to answer, but a loud clatter breaks the moment. Haechan just accidentally knocked over a cup on the prop counter, yelling dramatically as Chenle mocks him from the side. Everyone groans in unison. 

“I swear I didn’t touch it!” Haechan protests, arms out.

“Dude, your sleeve knocked it,” Chenle says with a chuckle. Renjun mutters something under his breath, and Jaemin sighs like he’s aged ten years in one afternoon. 

You shake your head fondly, jotting down notes for scene continuity while Jeno leans in again, voice amused. “They’re a mess without you.” 

Before Jeno can respond, someone clears their throat behind you. You both turn and see Jisung standing a few feet away. He’s in his hoodie and mask, not needed on set until later, but he’s here nonetheless. His eyes go between you and Jeno, unreadable beneath the cap tugged low over his brows. 

“Hey,” you greet with a smile. “Didn’t know you were already here.”

“Yeah,” Jisung replies, voice quiet. “Call time’s soon, so I just came early.”

You nod, trying to keep things light. “Well, you’re just in time to witness the chaos. Haechan is having a crisis over a cup.” 

Jisung doesn’t laugh, just glancing past you. “I saw.” He tucks his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. “I’ll be in the waiting room,” he says, already turning.

You watch him go, a tiny frown forming. Something about his tone feels off, distant. Maybe it’s just the long hours or the heat from the lights. But something lingers, unspoken. Jeno nudges your arm again. “You okay?”

You blink and quickly nod. “Yeah, just mentally running through the next setup.”

“Let me know if you need anything,” he says, then jogs back to the others on set, still arguing over prop placement. You glance down at your clipboard again, but your thoughts have already wandered, following Jisung’s retreating figure out of frame.  

That night, your body is sore from the twelve-hour day on your feet. After rinsing off the scent of studio dust and caffeine from your hair, you collapse into bed with your laptop and an open call sheet for tomorrow. The group chat is alive again, Renjun sharing a blurry photo of Haechan fake-crying over the shattered plate, and now everyone is spamming crying emojis and exaggerated eulogies for the “fallen latte.”

You scroll absently, a small smile on your lips, until your phone buzzes again. A notification from Instagram: @the__and.y shared a photo. You tap on it, curious. It’s an image of one of the prop plates from the set, emblazoned with the logo for their comeback, but what draws your attention is his new profile picture. It’s a muted, overcast photo of the ocean. Stormy gray waves, no caption, no context, just…distant. You pause, fingers hovering over your screen, then you flip over to your chat with him.

[Y/N 11:03PM]

hey, you okay? you seemed…off today

Read at 11:05PM

[Jisung🐥 11:17PM]

sorry. was just thinking about stuff.

[Y/N 11:18PM]

anything i can help with? you can always vent

[Jisung🐥 11:25PM]

it’s nothing. really.

You watch the typing bubble pop up, then disappear. 

[Y/N 11:40PM]

i missed our monday check-in today. got a video of the plate fiasco if you need a laugh.

You sent a short video of Haechan dramatically flailing beside the spilled cup, something you filmed while the directors replayed the footage after a take. It was too funny not to have for yourself, letting it fall into the vault of the production team. 

[Jisung🐥 11:56PM]

thanks. needed that.

[Jisung🐥 12:01AM]

i’m proud of you. you handled everything today like a pro.

[Y/N 12:01AM]

thanks jisung, that means a lot

[Jisung🐥 12:02AM]

so…

are you really into jeno-hyung?

Your heart skips. You stare at the screen for a few seconds before replying.

[Y/N 12:03AM]

i think so

he’s been really sweet lately

kind, thoughtful…

idk it’s just been nice

[Jisung🐥 12:04AM]

just be careful okay?

not everyone plays fair

[Y/N 12:04AM]

jisung…

is something going on?

[Jisung🐥 12:05AM]

no

i just don’t want you to get hurt

you’re important to me

you always have been 

[Y/N 12:05AM]

you’re important to me too

top tier triple S rank bestie status

and i mean that

[Jisung🐥 12:06AM]

lol thanks

i should sleep. early call time tomorrow.

[Y/N 12:06AM]

goodnight buddy

don’t forget to eat something before you sleep

[Jisung🐥 12:07AM]

i will. promise.

sweet dreams

You stare at the screen a little longer before putting your phone down and turning off the lights in your room.

Jeno starts bringing you coffee in the mornings, always the way you like it. “You remembered,” you exclaim the first time, surprised. 

He grins, boyish and bright. “I told you I’d be your caffeine plug.”

It becomes a habit, him showing up before the first call, two drinks in hand. Sometimes he brings a croissant too, breaking it in half to share as the crew sets up. You try not to read too much into it. Jeno lingers at your side between takes, asks for your opinion on his line delivery, and even lets you adjust the curl of his collar before scenes. 

One afternoon, while the rest of the group runs lines amongst themselves, he leans in from behind you and murmurs, “do you always look this focused when you work?”

You glance up from your clipboard, caught off guard. “Is that a compliment or a distraction?”

He smirks. “Why not both?”

That night, he messages you. 

[Jeno 11:41PM]

You really make this set feel less like work.

[Y/N 11:42PM]

Are you flirting with me or thanking me professionally?

[Jeno 11:42PM]

…Yes

You don’t label anything, you don’t have to. But a few days later, you’re on a video call with Jeno, both of you bleary-eyed from a 2AM brainstorm. You were sketching out a scene for a new project, something experimental with single takes and non-linear cuts, and Jeno is scribbling notes in a notebook while you ramble about rhythm and lighting cues. 

He pauses mid-sentence, then says with a laugh, “you know you start talking with your hands when you’re excited? Like you’re conducting your own ideas.”

You roll your eyes, smiling. “I need visual aids, okay?”

You stay like that for hours, working, debating, laughing. Somewhere around 5AM, while he’s going over a line of dialogue for the millionth time, your side of the wall goes quiet. Jeno looks up and sees you, head resting on your desk, face turned slightly toward the camera, asleep mid-sentence. 

He doesn't wake you. Instead, he takes a screenshot, just one, then whispers, “goodnight,” before ending the call. 

A few days later, you’re kissing him in the hallway outside the prop room. It’s tentative, breathless, his hand cupping your cheek, your clipboard forgotten between you. After that, it’s quiet, but it’s real. There was no big announcement, just a slow unraveling of something that already existed. 

The production crew has their suspicions, and you don’t deny it when Haechan raises an eyebrow and asks, “so…who’s Jeno smiling at like that between every cut?”

You just smile, float, let the hum of it warm your chest. For the first time in a while, you feel seen. 

But then things shift. Jeno gets more close-up shots. The director starts adjusting angles based on your notes. Jeno’s hitting his mark like he knew exactly where the camera would be. And he does, somehow. He knows which cues you’ve flagged, which scenes are getting reshoots, and which ones the editing team is prioritizing. 

At first, you’re flattered, maybe he’s just that intuitive and interested in your shared work. But then you overhear two PAs whispering near the monitors. 

“Of course, Jeno nailed that cut. He’s basically got a hotline to production now.”

“You think she’s slipping him notes?”

“No, but…it’s convenient, isn’t it?”

You shrug it off, but the words lodge themselves under your skin like splinters. That afternoon, when Jeno finds you outside the back entrance, coffee in hand, grinning like he always does when it’s just the two of you. 

You force a smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. Jeno notices this much. “Hey. You okay?”

You shake your head. “I don’t know. I just–I overheard something.”

His brows knit together. “What happened?”

You hesitate. The words don’t come out sharp, just quiet and unsure. “Are you…with me because of me? Or because of what I know? What I can give you on this project?”

His smile falters, a second of something almost like hurt crossing his features. “You think I’m using you?”

“No,” you say too quickly. “I just…I don’t know anymore. People and talking, and it’s getting hard to ignore…and part of me is scared they’re right.”

There’s a pause, just long enough to make your chest tighten. Jeno steps forward and sets the coffee on the table beside you. “You’re not just a shortcut or some strategy. You know that, right?” You want to believe him. But the whisper of doubt lingers. Not because you don’t trust him, but because you don’t trust the version of yourself that wanted so badly to be chosen that you didn’t ask the questions until now. 

Jisung grows quieter. The memes taper off, the voice notes stop altogether. He still responds when you reach out, but his replies are slower, thoughtful in a way that feels filtered. Like every word is reviewed before it’s sent. No more midnight chaos about Renjun’s weird snack combos, no new playlists. Yet he still texts you on Monday nights.

[Jisung🐥 9:02PM]

make sure you’re drinking water between setups. the lighting rig is brutal this week.

[Y/N 9:04PM]

look at you being all responsible

who are you and what have you done with my emotional support jisung?

[Jisung🐥 9:09PM]

guess he knows when to retreat to the shadows.

You frown at the screen. Something’s wrong, but when you ask…

[Y/N 9:12PM]

hey

you okay?

[Jisung🐥 9:17PM]

i’m fine. just tired. 

That’s all he says. No jokes, no gif, no dramatic videos of studio chaos. Just…tired. You want to press, but something inside you says not to. 

It’s a late Wednesday night on set, quiet, interrupted only by the buzz of fluorescent lights humming above you as you return to the office to grab your notes. The hallway is dim, echoing your footsteps. And then you see it. 

Just past the corner, half-shielded by the shadow of a scaffolding frame. Jeno. He’s not alone. He’s leaning close to one of the wardrobe assistants, her hand resting lightly on his chest as he chuckles at something she says. And then he kisses her. Quick, familiar, too easy. 

Your stomach drops. It’s not romantic, not even passionate. It’s flirty and careless, like it’s happened before, like it’s normal. Your breath catches, and you take a step back, eyes wide. Jeno doesn’t see you, doesn’t even glance your way. You run. 

Later that night, you’re under your blanket, screen dimmed, fingers trembling as you open your messages. There’s only one person you can text. 

[Y/N 12:44AM]

jisung…can i call you?

The typing bubble appears. Disappears. Then reappears. Disappears again.

[Jisung🐥 12:45AM]

yeah. of course.

You call him and he picks up halfway through the first ring. You don’t even make it through your sentence before your voice cracks. You tell him everything, your words halting like you’re afraid they’ll collapse under their own weight. Jisung doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t ask questions, just listens. When your voice finally goes quiet, he says softly, “I’m so sorry.”

There’s a long pause. You wait for the ‘I told you so’ but it never comes. Just silence until Jisung speaks next. “You deserve someone who wouldn’t even look at anyone else.” 

You don’t remember exactly how the call ended, just that his voice stayed steady while yours wavered, and at some point, you whispered, “can you come over?”

There was no hesitation. Jisung showed up twenty minutes later, hoodie sleeves pushed up to his elbows, a plastic bag of instant ramen in one and your favorite canned drink in the other. He doesn’t ask questions right away. He just moves through your apartment like muscle memory, filling your kettle, digging through your drawers for a pair of chopsticks, flipping on your old Bluetooth speaker with the playlist you both made months ago during a stormy night of edits and deadline panic. 

You don’t realize how tightly you’ve been holding yourself together until the smell of broth fills the air, and he nudges your shoulder with the controller. “I found a bug in the third chapter. Wanna see it?” His smile is soft, familiar. 

You don’t answer. You just reach for the controller. You’re playing through the chapter with Jisung, but your hands are trembling too much to focus. You set the controller down and cover your face. “I should’ve listened to you.” 

He doesn’t say anything at first. You hear the game music fade into the background, your own breathing thick with tears you’ve been holding since the hallway incident. Then, softly, “I just wanted you to be happy. Even if it wasn’t with me.” You look up. His eyes are tired but kind. He’s not angry, not smug, just sad but steady. And then he says even quieter, “you’re not a burden, you know.” You blink, confused. “You’re my save point.” Jisung takes a breath. “You always have been.”

You unravel at his words. Not loud, not dramatic, just a slow fall into his arms, your tears soaking into his hoodie as he holds you. One of his large hands strokes your back in slow, grounding circles, the other still clutching the warm bowl of untouched ramen. You both stayed like that until one or both of you had fallen asleep. Your head rests on his shoulder, the game still paused, the background music still playing. The ache is still there, but it’s softer somehow because even when the world feels like it’s ending, he’s still here. 

The next Monday, you’re back at the studio. The lights above the set flicker faintly as staff adjust the backdrop for the dream sequence when Jeno wakes up Haechan. 

You’re scanning the shot list when a familiar voice calls your name. You turn to find Jeno standing a few feet away, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket, eyes darker than usual. “Can we talk?” You hesitate, then nod. You follow him out into a quieter hallway, far from the soundstage and background chatter. He exhales. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.” You nod slowly, saying nothing. “I shouldn’t have let things get that far,” he continues. “With you…and the way I handled it after.”

There’s an ache in his voice, not unlike the silence that filled that hallway the night you saw him with the other staff member. But it doesn’t sting like it used to, it just feels distant. “I keep thinking about what I could’ve said,” Jeno murmurs. “What I should’ve done.”

You tilt your head. “And?”

He looks at you, then away. “I don’t know. I messed up, and I keep hoping maybe you’d text first or just…talk to me.”

“I did talk,” you reply quietly. “I just think you stopped listening.”

Jeno flinches at that. Not dramatically, but enough that you see the words land. “You meant more to me than you think.”

“Maybe,” you say. “But not enough to choose me.” The silence between you stretches, not sharp, just inevitable. 

He tries again. “Can I…fix this? Somehow?”

You meet his eyes, and it hits you that the part of you that used to tremble under his gaze is now still. “I think what I needed back then is different from what I need now.” And with that, you walk away. That night, the messages started again.

[Jeno 10:56PM]

I don’t expect you to respond

But I wanted you to know that I miss talking to you

[Jeno 11:08PM]

I thought about that time we stayed up editing a scene until sunrise

You fell asleep at your desk while on a call with me

I still have a screenshot I took

[Jeno 11:32PM]

I keep hoping it’s not too late

Even just as friends

You read every one but didn’t reply. Not because you’re angry, not anymore. You just finally understand the difference between wanting someone and choosing someone. So instead, you open a different chat and type.

[Y/N 11:34PM]

can you come over?

You get a response within seconds.

[Jisung🐥 11:34PM]

i’ll be there in a bit

When Jisung shows up, it’s quieter than last time, no ramen, no distractions. Just Jisung in a soft, gray hoodie, his hands in his pockets, and that familiar look like he’s exactly where he wants to be. You sit side by side on your couch, knees brushing, the controller resting between you, but neither of you reaches for it, not tonight. 

You break the silence first. “I think…” You hesitate, watching the shadows on the walls. “I think I was in love with an idea.” Jisung doesn’t move, doesn’t fidget, doesn’t interrupt, just listens like he always does. You glance down at your hands. “With Jeno, it was all…intensity. Like something I had to keep chasing. I thought if I tried hard enough, said the right thing, stayed up late, showed up early, gave a little more, maybe I’d get there. I’d earn it. Like I was auditioning for love.” You let the words hang for a moment. Jisung’s quiet presence makes it easier to breathe. “But with you,” you continue, turning your head to meet his eyes, “it feels like the truth. Like I don’t have to explain myself all the time, or prove I belong. You see me and you don’t look away.” 

There’s a beat of silence, deep and soft. Then Jisung nods. “I’ve been waiting to hear that,” he whispers. “Since our first Monday night.”

You smile, but something is trembling in it. “You knew?”

He shrugs gently. “I didn’t know what you needed. I just…wanted to be there when you figured it out.”

Your throat tightens. There’s no grand gesture, no confession backlit by fireworks. Just this, the honesty of the moment, the slow boom of something real. Jisung leans his head gently against yours, your shoulders touching. His body doesn’t lean in possessively, only comfortably. You feel the weight of him, solid, steady, safe. 

“This okay?” he asks softly.

You nod, eyes closed. “Yeah, it is.”

And just like that, the moment becomes your real save point. Not dramatic, not loud, but unmistakably yours. 

Production winds down during the week in a blur of final takes, lighting resets, and wrap-up shots that feel both urgent and bittersweet. There’s a quiet hum of satisfaction in the air, that rare sense of something good being captured, preserved in a reel of color-graded moments and choreography that now moves like muscle memory.

You still wear your headset. You still pace between monitors and shot lists, but something’s changed. You no longer flinch when you feel someone watching you because now, it’s him. 

Jisung doesn’t hover, he doesn’t interrupt your focus. But he’s always there, tucked somewhere just within your line of sight, leaning on a prop, sipping from a water bottle, exchanging a silent look when you both know the reframing needs one more adjustment. He still jokes when things get too tense, murmurs a deadpan comment about a camera angle making his nose look “criminally soft”, and it’s enough to make you snort behind your clipboard. But more than anything, he grounds you. 

One afternoon, a team member rushes over, flustered about a color issue in the scene with the red vintage car. You’re mid-note when Jisung steps closer, eyes calm. “Hey,” he says, not loud, just enough for you to hear. “Take a breath. We’ve got time.” It’s simple, barely a moment, but it slows your pulse. You nod, inhale, then return to the scene with a steadier voice. 

No one comments on the closeness, not openly, at least. But you catch the knowing looks. Haechan winks, and Renjun grins when Jisung steals a granola bar off your desk, saying it was “payment for emotional support services.”

When the director claps his hands and yells “cut,” that day, Jisung’s eyes go straight to yours. He doesn’t rush into a hurry or try to make it dramatic, he just walks over, shoulder bumping yours. “Proud of you.”

You don’t say anything. You just smile because you know he means it. 

Shooting wraps up the following Monday night, rolling one last time as Jisung sits on a swing set at a playground, fingers wrapped around the small candle he’s carried throughout the video’s sequence. Haechan and Chenle flank him on either side, gently swaying on their own swings.

The set is quiet except for the soft ambient hum of crickets in the distance. Jisung’s line comes next, his voice low, measured, and a little raw. “I lit it because I read online that candles can help with sleep, I just wanted to help after you said you were having a nightmare,” he said to Haechan. “But in the end…Mark-hyung, he just blew it out. Like it never meant anything, even when he’s the person who gave it to me.”

The silence that follows is deliberate, hanging like mist between the boys. The director quietly yells, “cut.” The camera stops, but Jisung stays seated. 

Lights dim, crew start dispersing, voices lowering as the finality of wrap night settles in. But Jisung doesn’t move from the swing, still holding the candle. It’s burned down and hollowed out slightly at the edges from the earlier scenes, but he holds it carefully, like it still might glow if he asks gently enough. 

Chenle looks over at Jisung from where they sat on the swings, still in costume, their hair wind-tousled from the final scene. “You okay?”

Jisung shrugged, eyes fixed on the candle as he tossed it between his hands. “It was a good take.”

“Yeah, but that’s not what I asked.”

Haechan comes up behind them, his usual playfulness muted by the quiet night. He drapes his arms around the swing’s metal chains and rests his chin on his arms, lazily. “What’s going on in that big head of yours, Jisung?”

Jisung doesn’t answer at first. He rolls the candle slightly between his palms. “It’s stupid.”

“Say it anyway,” Chenle nudges. “Stupid isn’t anything new to us.”

Jisung exhales through his nose. “That line. The one about just wanting to help…it wasn’t just for the scene. I think I was talking about myself.” Chenle raises a brow. Haechan doesn’t interrupt. “I kept showing up,” Jisung says. “I kept holding on. Hoping that maybe if I just waited long enough, didn’t let the flame die, maybe she’d look back. Maybe I’d matter.” The wind picks up slightly, causing his hair to shift across his forehead. Still, he keeps staring at the candle. “And in that scene in the apartment, when Mark just walked off with the others and I was just…left alone. Like I always was.”

There’s a beat, then Chenle sighs. “Jisung…”

“It’s just a prop,” Jisung mutters. “But it didn’t feel like one.”

“It wasn’t,” Haechan says. His voice is surprisingly serious, grounding. “You put something real into it. That’s what made the scene work.” 

“But it still ended the same way,” Jisung replies. “Someone else walked off with the endin,g and I’m still sitting here like I don’t know what to do with myself.”

Chenle kicks at the gravel with his shoe. “You’re thinking too much again.”

“I know,” Jisung whispers. “I always do.”

Haechan moves closer, ruffling Jisung’s hair. “That candle didn’t go out on its own. Mark blew it out. There’s a difference.” Jisung blinks.

Chenle gestures with a tilt of his chin over to where you were helping the staff pack up equipment. “She’s not gone, Jisung. And you’re not invisible. You’re just…not the loudest. But you’re still the one she texts when it matters.”

“Every Monday,” Haechan adds with a smirk. “You don’t see her asking Jeno for ramen.”

That makes Jisung huff a laugh, barely there but real. “I didn’t expect it to end like this,” Jisung says after a while, eyes fixed on the candle. 

Chenle nudges him. “Endings always feel weird. Even the good ones.”

“I know,” Jisung replies. “It’s just…I thought helping would feel better than this.” His voice cracks a little. “I didn’t want anything in return, not really. But I didn’t think it’d feel like I was disposable.” 

Haechan tilts his head. “You weren’t. You were the safety net. That’s a heavy thing to be for someone.” 

“But she didn’t fall,” Jisung murmurs. “Not all the way. Not into me, not at first.” 

Chenle shrugs. “She didn’t need to. You caught her anyway.”

Jisung breathes in, slow and shaky. “It just…hurt, seeing the way she looked at him, the way Jeno-hyung looked at her. Like he still thought he had a chance.”

“But he didn’t,” Haechan assures. “Not really. She saw through it, eventually.”

Jisung traces the rim of the candle with his thumb. “Yeah, I know. I just think…for a while, I wasn’t sure if she ever really saw me.”

There’s a pause, then Chenle bumps him again. “She sees you now.”

That makes Jisung huff a laugh, barely there but real. He finally stands up from the swing. The candle’s still in his hand, but he doesn’t clutch it as tightly anymore, just holds it gently, like a memory. The night air is crisp. He exhales, and his breath fogs in the cold, drifting into the dark like a ghost of something he’s ready to let go. 

Even after the cameras stop rolling, you and Jisung keep your Monday night tradition alive. It starts with a text the first week after wrap. 

[Jisung🐥 8:03PM]

editing day check-in?

[Y/N 8:04PM]

only if you bring snacks

Within half an hour, he’s at your apartment door with your favorite pastries and two cans of your favorite drink, grinning like it’s the highlight of his week. Which, for both of you, it is. 

Jisung still sends you Mystic Messenger memes. He sends one when you mention being halfway done editing the teaser video for their music video. He sends another when the team finalizes the color grading. He sends a particularly dramatic one when the teaser video drops, complete with screenshots of fan reactions he saw online. 

On nights like those, you invite him over to sit together on the couch, a soft blanket draped over both of you. You scroll through the comments of the music video while Jisung lazily plays with the drawstring of his hoodie. 

“I think they like it,” you murmur, eyes scanning the comments. 

“They love it,” Jisung corrects. “You made that.”

You glance over at him. “We did.”

His cheeks flush faintly, but he doesn’t look away. “Can I ask you something kind of dumb?” You nod, eyes still on your phone. “Do you think…if we met differently, I still would’ve found you?”

You smile. “Maybe. But I like that I met you on a Monday on the first day of middle school.” 

Your apartment is quiet the following Monday night, too quiet. The kind of stillness that only comes when something big is about to change. Outside, the city is restless, filled with lit windows, honking cars, and people moving without knowing they’re stepping into a night that means everything to you and Jisung. 

The final edit of the music video drops at midnight. You both know this, but neither of you says anything at first. He’s curled up on your couch, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands, eyes fixed on the TV where some unrelated show plays with the volume low. You’re beside him, laptop open, pretending to check timestamps for another project, but your heart isn’t in it. 

“You think it’ll do well?” Jisung asks suddenly. His voice is soft, almost too careful.

You look up from your screen. “I know it will. It’s honest, and that always connects.” He nods, but doesn’t look fully convinced. You scoot closer, your shoulder brushing his. “You didn’t just perform in that video, you told a story. People will feel it.”

He hesitates, then turns his head toward you. “You think they’ll know it was about you?”

That makes you smile, small and slow. “Maybe. But I think the people who matter already do.”

His face softens as midnight hits. You both glance at the screen as the notifications flood in. Comments, tweets, streaming links. It’s already in the trending category on YouTube, and Jisung’s name starts climbing real-time charts. Jisung stares at it for a beat too long, blinking like it’s not real. Then both your phones buzz. The Dream Brew Crew.

[Haechan☀️🧸 12:05AM]

you did it candle boy 🕯️

congrats 

[Chenle 12:06AM]

they’re crying fr lmao good job dude 

Jisung snorts, shaking his head. “They’re so annoying.”

You grin. “They’re proud of you.”

He tucks his phone away and leans into you, resting his head on your shoulder. “You stayed,” he whispers. 

You shift so your cheek rests against his hair. “I always would have.”

The night moves on around you, social media exploding with reactions, staff members texting their congrats, even the director sending a surprisingly heartfelt message about his growth. 

And then, you feel the vibration before you see it. Your phone lights up with a notification. It’s a Mystic Messenger meme, Jisung’s face in the place of Yoosung’s avatar. 

[Jisung🐥 12:15AM]

My route unlocked 💕🐥

You laugh, loud and real this time. “Really?” you say, showing him the screen. 

He looks up, eyes twinkling, and shrugs. “I had to make it official.”

You don’t need to reply. Instead, you reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers. The world is watching now, the video is out, and promotions are beginning. But here, on this couch, it’s still Monday night, and he’s still yours. 

Autoplay: If you liked this, you may also like Perfect - Z.Chenle

[manaohu]

You need to say something. So say something. This is your dream. You can do whatever you want. Take the silence back. All of it. Remember where you are?

[frantic-babbling]

thinking about the scientist by coldplay

except it's about darry and paul

except it's the glee cast version

so it's about darry and paul's overly dramatic breakup

choose your fighter: rachel/finn, santana/brittany, blaine/kurt, tw: mr schue--will/emma

[redtrospective]

a sneak preview of what I've got for y'all✨

EDIT - now with links to all submissions:

Day 1: Time Travel - talking nonsense (rated E) Day 2: Fairytales - I'm your man (rated T) Day 3: Western AU - alone together (rated E) Day 4: Divorce/Breakup - lost in that last goodbye (rated M) Day 5: Major Character Death - how big the hourglass, how deep the sand (rated M) Day 6: No Signal - nothing I can't handle (rated E) Day 7: Detective AU - can anybody find me somebody to love? (rated T) Day 8: Free Space - every little way you like to touch my body (rated M)

[glittergroovy]

forever • charli xcx