#because “i've heard that there are people that want to make things a bit messy” ??

[wyvernwinding]

it's finals week can people not leave well enough alone i am trying to study not get bogged down in stupid useless friend drama that i tried to remove myself from a literal year ago

[hannieween]

after dark | city lights series | h.js

It all started with a deal with your next door neighbor, Joshua Hong. A little harmless deal that surprisingly led you to finding love; and a part of yourself that you were still discovering.

✮ pairings: joshua hong x female reader ✮ genre: fluff, angst, smut (18+) ✮ aus: rock singer joshua, boyfriend joshua, ldr ✮ word count: 16.4k

›🎧: habit – i.m | chi-ka – tabber ft. dean | singularity – v ♡ | restless – bibi | smoke sprite – so!yoon! ft. rm ♡

→ previous chapters

› nsfw tags under the cut

✮ warnings: alcohol consumption (no dubcon), smut with plot, obnoxiously long sex scene, hard dom joshua, brat reader, reader is on the pill, foul language, dirty talk, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, messy cumplay, body worshipping, jealousy, oral sex (m, f), multiple orgasms, manhandling, a bit of degradation kink, brat taming: pussy slaps, overstimming and crymaxing; aftercare, pet names: sweetheart, princess, baby, bunny (hers) handsome, baby, babe, baby boy (his)

✮ this is loosely proofread, i could've waited patiently for the brilliant @cvntrlseecvntrlvee to proofread this for me but i am, you guess it, impatient. haha sorry my sweet vee. i love u 🩵

✮ this chapter is for @beckyloveshannie, happy birthday, baby 🩵🥰

✮ a/n: the obnoxiously long sex scene is for me. it's a self indulgent thing, i won't apologize for how fucking long it is. you suffer with me kekekekek

✮ a/n 2: also, stick around for the announcement in the final author's note!! •⩊•

✮ disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers ONLY. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.

part viii — part two

The flight that was supposed to be short ended up extending over two hours in the air because of a weather issue. By the time you reached the airport you felt exhausted, both physically and emotionally.

You felt like you had failed the main purpose of going to visit Joshua. Which, in reality, wasn't your sole intention of visiting him. Mainly, you just missed him so bad it made your heart ache. The second intention was to try and make him clear his schedule for your book release party.

However Joshua couldn't do that. He didn't say why, he just said he was not going to be able to attend.

You tried to see reason within that. Joshua was extremely busy these days, recording session after recording session, meetings, networking, shows, you name it.

But, he said in the past that he wanted to be there with you on the day of the release. And you couldn't help but think that there was no way that he changed his mind in the span of a few weeks. Was recording more important than his words to you?

Again, you tried to give Joshua the benefit of the doubt.

Among all of the people coming and going in the vast space of the airport, you spotted a black haired man, wearing a bright pink sweatshirt, pacing back and forth before deciding to sit down on a bench, phone in hand, the screen so bright it illuminated his whole face.

"Mr. Yoon?" you called faking an overtly sweet voice.

He winced at the sound in surprise and lifted his brown eyes to you. "Oh, grandmaaa," he chuckled, standing up to wrap you in an asphyxiating hug, bringing a hand to your head, running his knuckles on your scalp.

"Jeonghan, stop it," you whined.

"I've been calling you, ever heard of picking up the phone when it rings?" he muttered through gritted teeth, pulling away from you almost aggressively.

"I just landed, Jeonghan. I didn't take my phone off airplane mode," you muttered with some annoyance but couldn't fight the smile that crept on your face when you saw his. "Stop it with the grandma thing."

"Don't tell me what to do," he scoffed, putting a hand on the crown of your head to ruffle your hair. "Come on, hurry, or your present's gonna die from suffocation in the car," he added with a low chuckle.

"My what?" you gasped but he immediately turned to the direction of the sliding doors of the airport. "Jeonghan!"

You had to hop quicker to catch his step. "You know for someone who's recently recovering from an ankle injury, you sure are fast," you said with a tired gasp.

"I'm not fast, you're slow," he muttered, turning to give you a look. "It comes with old age."

"Can you stop with that?!" you whined and felt more irritated when he just snorted with a laugh. "I'm younger than you."

"You might be on paper, but not in spirit," he lifted his pointer finger as if lecturing. "Did you tell your boyfriend you arrived safe?"

Your heart skipped. "Oh, I forgot," you muttered and got your phone from your tote bag.

"It's affecting your memory now," he tutted, getting the key to his black BMW M3 and unlocked the door for you, opening before stating: "And please don't sit on your gift."

"Oh, what is it?" you peaked inside the car before climbing into it. There was a large paper bag on the passenger seat. "Is it this?"

You lifted the paper bag with some reluctance as you slid onto the seat. Before you could turn around and look at Jeonghan, he was already closing the door to his car and going around it.

"Very funny," you muttered with a scoff, opening the bag to receive the smell of fries. "You said my gift was alive."

"I mean it had to be alive at some point," he pointed with a shrug.

"I thought I was going to find a pet or something like that," you muttered. "I hate your pranks."

"If you want that, I can get you a bunny," he nodded at you "Or a goldfish, so it doesn't run away."

"Someone hasn't watched Finding Nemo," you said in a mocking singsong tone.

"Pretty sure that's a clownfish, you clown," he let out a chortle and pointed at the bag with his nose. "I got you your burger."

"Oh! Thank you, Jeongjeong," you cooed happily, grabbing a fry but before you could stuff it in your mouth, it was quickly snatched away by his lithe fingers. "Hey!"

He cackled, chewing the stolen fry as his devious laugh filled your ears. "Put your seatbelt on," he started the car and immediately drove off the parking lot and into the road.

The click from the seatbelt resounded between the two of you, since you were busy munching on fries.

"I assumed you'd be hungry" you heard Jeonghan say calmly now, he maintained his eyes on the road.

"Yeah, I am. Thank you Hannie. Want a fry?" you offered.

"Please," he sighed, leaning to your side as you put a fry in his mouth. "You should try the burger, it's really good."

You nodded, though he didn't catch that. His eyes didn't leave the road until he heard the rustling noise of the paper bag as you took the burger with your hands, unwrapping it to sink a bite in.

"But not in my car!" he protested loudly, sending quick looks at you.

"You smoke in my apartment, I'll eat in your car," you quipped and laughed when you saw his jaw nearly dislocate.

"Those two are not equivalent!" he said with a look of disbelief.

"I decide they are," you said matter of factly, showing him a slight smile as you munched on the burger.

"You little–" he cut himself off with a laugh but he settled back on his seat with a small: "Brat."

You froze for a second, getting an odd feeling. Like an unsettling chill crawling down your spine. But Jeonghan was back with his eyes set on the road, paying no mind to what your reaction was.

"Oh, I forgot to tell Joshua that I'm with you," you muttered, trying to mask the alarming jolt in your stomach.

"Did you ask him about next Friday?" he pried, when he looked at you his eyes drifted to the fry you were holding in front of your mouth.

Jeonghan parted his mouth as you stuffed the fry in his mouth.

"He said he won't be able to make it," you muttered, trying to mask the pain constricting the tone of your voice, but it was too late.

Your heart deflated.

"Mmn," he hummed with some understanding. "Did he say why?"

"Nope."

You finished typing the text and sent it to your boyfriend, locking your phone to concentrate on the big burger that looked huge in your hands.

"This is really big, Hannie," you muttered innocently before taking another bite with a pleased groan.

"Yeah, they all say that," he said with a brief chuckle.

You nearly choked on your food. "Jeonghan!" you squealed, making him laugh harder. "You're gross."

"As if you didn't know me already," he scoffed and you told on his need to change the subject when he grabbed his vape pen from the cup holder as he asked: "So how was it? Were you able to tell him what was bothering you?"

"Uh, yeah," you frowned. "About that."

"Fuck me," he groaned, his arms going slack but his hands were still gripping the wheel. "You didn't tell him?"

"I was... busy," you muttered shyly and looked away. "We talked about other things, but I never got around telling him about my... insecurities."

The car came to a stop in the parking lot of the building and Jeonghan turned the engine off, a hand immediately reaching inside the paper bag to grab some fries.

"And how do you feel now?" his eyebrows lifted slightly.

"I feel like crap," you let out a sigh, trying to mask all of your emotions but the weight was too much, making you drop your gaze to your lap. "And now he's not going to be here when I release my book and it makes me question whether I want a stupid party or not because I know I'll feel bummed."

"Why? No! I'm already scouting a place for the party," he shook his head, grabbing more fries.

Your heart sank a little. "You are doing what?" you asked with a tiny voice.

"I'm looking for a nice place where you can have your party," he shrugged. "I think I found something, but I'm negotiating with the owner so we can have an enclosed section of the restaurant."

"Jeonghan you shouldn't have!" you muttered, your tone quivering with emotion.

"I'm not doing it out of the goodness of my heart. It's your boyfriend's instruction," he looked around aimlessly. "He might not be there, but he is putting the black card."

"You're joking," you scoffed. "Tell me you're joking."

"My jokes are funny," he tutted. "This is not a joke."

"Jeonghan," you said firmly, your head tilting to one side.

"I'm being serious!" he smiled the way he did when he knew he was getting in trouble. "He wants you to have a nice party for your big day."

"A party he's not attending!" you whined and your eyes brimmed with tears almost instantly and you had to look away in shame.

"You're not doing this for your boyfriend, you know that," he reprimanded. "Now quit being a sorry ass and eat."

You pouted and looked at your burger.

"What?" Jeonghan chuckled at the sad expression on your face. "What, why are you doing that face? Please eat that or I will."

At that, you raised the burger and took another large bite, the tears that had gathered in the corner of your eyes ran down your cheeks.

Jeonghan threw you a reproachful look, but a slow and awkward smile drew on his face. "You're unbelievable," he snickered, bringing the vape and tucked it between his lips, drawing a big intake.

"And you're mean," you retorted. "You're not a good friend."

"Now you're just making shit up," he laughed.

"I am," you smiled sheepishly, taking another bite from your burger. "Mmnph this has bacon in it," you delighted with big tears in your eyes.

"Yes, princess, it has bacon in it," he muttered aloofly, unlocking his phone and typing something quick.

"How did you know I liked bacon?"

"Everyone likes bacon," he rolled his eyes and sent you a look again.l "You told me you liked bacon."

"I did?" you squeaked out, mouth full of food.

"You were drunk," he muttered, still looking at his phone.

"Mmn," you hummed, pausing for some thought. "I've been doing that quite a lot."

"What, forgetting things?" he raised his head. "Yeah, that's normal in old people like you."

"Jeonghan, no!" you whined in frustration. "I mean, getting drunk."

"Please," he brushed off. "You get drunk two weekends in a row and start getting worried. You should loosen up more, grandma."

"What do you mean?" you asked in a high-pitched whine.

"I mean... you read too much into things," he dropped his phone between his thighs. "Relax. Don't worry about meaningless things. Eat."

"Pfft," you laughed. "Wow, that's great advice, Jeonghan."

"Yeah, it's not my best one," he looked out the window, biting the tip of his thumb. "Listen, I just don't like to see you like this, okay?"

"How?" you inquired, thinking that he might list emotions he saw on your face. Sad, disappointed, deflated.

"Insecure," he replied with a tone of obviousness. "It makes you irrational. That's why you can't sleep. That's why you turn to alcohol."

You swallowed, uncertain as to how to proceed with this conversation. It seemed hard to believe that in such a short time, Jeonghan has learned how to read you perfectly.

"I'm working on it," you replied with a small pout.

"I know," he replied with a warmth coating his tone, the understanding mirroring in his gaze. "But you're not canceling this."

You breathed out through your nose while you munched on your food. The only sound you heard beside you was the raspy intake of Jeonghan's vape.

"God, I've so many things to do," you said, leaning your head back on the headrest. "I don't even know where to start."

"Do you need help?" he asked promptly. "I can help if I can."

"Thank you, Jeonghan but," you sighed with some frustration. "It's stuff only I can do."

"Let me keep you company, then," he said with a reassuring smile. "Unless you want to be alone and you're too shy to tell me."

You looked into his kind eyes for a second, but it was long enough to make you feel an exhilarating jolt deep in your gut. You looked again, feeling a bit flustered and nodded to him.

"Company is okay."

Jeonghan helped you carry one of the boxes full of freshly printed and packed books and you carried another. He looked excited as you both made your way up to your apartment.

"I haven't read your books yet," he commented, weighing the heavy box in his arms. "Makes me feel excited."

"Uhm," you choked out. "Yeah... about that."

"What?" he raised his eyes at you. The elevator came to a stop and you hurried yourself out and to your apartment door.

"You don't know what I write?" you asked as you opened the door and let your friend in, who looked avidly interested in your books upon seeing your reaction.

"Should I?" he asked curiously.

"Joshua didn't tell you?"

"He just told me that you're a writer, that's it," he cocked his head to one side. "Was he supposed to tell me?"

"No, not at all just," you breathed out, putting the box on the round dining table.

"Why don't you just cut to the point?" he asked, sounding a little annoyed now and with a low grunt, he placed the box on the table too. "That shit is heavy. For someone your size, you carried it like it was nothing."

"The difference between you and me, is that I go to the gym so I can sleep," you huffed, feigning some pride but your joke was broken by your own embarrassed laugh.

"Yeah, whatever, grandma," he nodded with a playful smile plastered on his face. "I've heard your knees crack everytime you get up, so shut up."

"You shut up!" you whined like a child.

"Tell me what your books are about," he retorted while pushing the sleeves of his pink hoodie up to his elbows.

"Vampires," you muttered, but your tone fell flat.

"Tsk. I know that," he said, making his way to the kitchen and freely opening the door of your fridge, pulling out a bottle of soju and a can, which he left one day he stopped by. To keep you company as well.

"Can I get one?" you asked, nodding to the bottle of soju.

Jeonghan stopped, his eyes zeroing on your face and nodded. "You got it," he muttered, deciding not to make a comment about your newer alcoholic tendencies.

You went to your study to get your pencil case, coming back to Jeonghan sitting down on the dining table, popping the can of beer open with eyes on his phone screen, that were dragged to your frame when you entered within his line of vision.

"Do you want to watch TV while I do this?" you offered meekly when his eyes darted down your frame swiftly.

"I was thinking of watching you do whatever it is you have to do," he shrugged, leaning back on the chair, knees spread wide.

"Uhm, okay," you replied, sitting on the chair next to him. "You're going to grow bored."

"That's what the booze is for," he replied, pouring some soju on the pair of glasses, and then poured a bit of beer. His fingers moved the glass in circle motions on top of the table and then lifted the glass to you. "Drink."

"Thank you, Hannie," you whispered, taking the glass and holding it for him to clink together.

"Cheers," he said before drinking up. "Now, about your book..."

"Ah," you nervously opened one of the boxes.

The cover was pretty. Prettier than you ever expected one of your books to look like. Even when you were up all night writing the book, you never got to imagine it would sport a jacket so pretty.

You got a permanent marker from your pencil case and opened the book, to swiftly scribble your author's signature, plus a dedication note that read:

To Jeongjeong. Thank you for being the greatest friend and blessing I never knew I needed.

You closed the book and slided it across the table to his hand.

"What?" he asked, completely clueless, opened the book and quickly read the signature. His bright, sweet eyes lit up as he looked at you. "Aw, princess, thank you."

He turned the page over, his eyes reading over the book dedication, the one that the world would see. Your heart dropped, knowing what his eyes were reading, his expression changed a bit but then he immediately closed it.

"So, tell me what this is about," he insisted, trying to change the subject. "Go on, I'm not gonna read it right now."

"The book is about vampires, magic. It has a lot of blood, drama... and sex," you cleared your throat shamefully and drank from your glass deeply. "A lot of it."

A moment dragged on, Jeonghan kept the features of his face in check, but then he broke with a wheezing laughter.

"Don't laugh at me," you whined.

"Sorry, sorry," he recovered with a sniff and then drank from his own glass.

You narrowed your eyes and blurted out: "You knew."

"Of course I knew. Joshuji told me what his involvement in the making of your book was," he sent a cheeky look at you.

"Oh," you gulped. "He did? Why... when?"

"Before you guys got serious he... uh," he dropped his gaze, seemingly deep in thought for a second and then he shook his head. "I shouldn't be telling you this, anyway but he told me about you so, it's fair game."

"What are you talking about, Hannie?" you frowned, a deep remorseful feeling settling in your stomach.

"One night I got a call to come pick him up at Cheol's bar. When I got there, he was completely gone," he sighed and looked upwards to the ceiling, much as if he were uncomfortable by the predicament of being both Joshua's friend and now yours. "You had uh... you guys had a fight, or at least he told me you were taking some time to think about what you wanted."

"Hold on, when was this?" you inquired, your heart sank upon hearing this, and desperately wanted to pinpoint the time when this had taken place.

"I don't know, a month ago? Maybe. I know you guys weren't serious yet. I took him into my car, he was crying like a baby, telling me that he fucked up, that he ruined everything with you, blablabla," he rambled, only pausing to drink from his glass, emptying it completely and then started to refill it.

"Jeonghan, stop," you raised a hand. "Slowly, please."

He sighed again, adding a little grunt in the process. "The next day, he woke up in my apartment, hungover as fuck, he almost didn't know where he was, he didn't even remember being at Cheol's bar," he leaned back on the chair again, crossing his arms over his chest. "He told me everything about you because I wouldn't let him go without him explaining what got him like that."

"Did he..." you inhaled deeply. "Did he tell you why we fought?"

"Yeah, he told me," he whispered, nodding with his head and then he smiled at you. "He told me a lot of things. He told me more about you. And I asked him why you guys got into a no strings attached thing in the first place and he told me he was helping you write some scenes for your book."

You had to look away from him for a moment, squeezing your eyes shut to the image running in your mind, causing you a deep pain that sunk into your chest.

"God," you gasped. Your eyes brimmed with tears when you opened them again.

"Look, I know you wanted a fun, snarky response from me but... I'm telling you all of this because I want you to know, he loves you," he placed a hand on the crown of your haid, ruffling your hair in the process. "He's just dumb when it comes to showing it."

"He never told me all of this," you whispered, wiping a tear from your eye with the back of your hand.

"Of course he didn't," he said, shrugging off. "He probably didn't want you to know that he cried in my car, drunk off his ass."

You leaned your head to one side, sniffing loudly. "I've hurt him so much..." you sobbed, your voice was a mere whine.

"And he has hurt you."

He grabbed his glass and downed its contents in one go. He looked at you, chin raised, heavy lidded eyes now from the alcohol working fast in his system.

"But that's what you're getting for when you're in a relationship, right?" he asked, stretching his arms over his head. "Ups and downs."

"Right," you mumbled with some thought, feeling your gaze lose focus in the wall behind Jeonghan.

"Well, we were signing books, weren't we?" he said abruptly,

You scoffed, grabbed another book and opened its lap to sign the first page while Jeonghan watched you carefully.

"Do you have another marker in here?" he asked, rummaging in your pencil case and pulling out another black marker. "Nice."

"Jeonghan, what–," you blurted out, watching him take a new book, opening the first page and replicating your author's signature nearly to the point. "The fuck?"

"Yeah, I'm not proud about this," he muttered as he put another book in front of him on the table. "But it's coming in handy right now, isn't it?"

You smiled, the sound coming from your lips drew his eyes to your face. "Yeah, knock yourself off, you little humbug."

"Hehe."

The week went by slowly again. Slower than before, it felt like.

You continued to be on top of your work, trying to channel those days  when you kept yourself so busy to even think about Joshua, back when he lived thirty seconds away from you.

So your days would look like this: wake up, tend to your needs, turn your computer on, get as much work done without dwelling on the fact that your boyfriend was far away, probably in a city you'd never been before.

Sometimes, he would have the time to call you; and you would talk for a good chunk of time. Sometimes, he wouldn't even return your texts, being so that he didn't have the time and when he did you were already asleep.

The biggest challenge for you was going to bed. But that was almost routine for you. Rolling in your bed, or trying to hold onto the pillow that no longer held the scent of your boyfriend's hair.

When the day of the book release rolled around, you lied in your bed, staring at the ceiling until your alarm beeped. You reached out to stop the annoying sound alarm from your phone and sighed, hoping that the day ahead of you wasn't as bleak as your sleepless night.

But maybe you were just being too much of a pessimist.

You hit off the day by checking your email, texts and such. Apparently your book was one of the most anticipated releases for the Fantasy genre, and the pre-release had also been a success. So you just checked if everything was going alright, not caring to see anything about reviews or anything pertaining to the reception just yet.

So you kept yourself busy towards the time when you had to start to get ready for the party later in the night. Your normal day to day tasks were only interrupted by a call from the smart doorbell ringing.

You approached the small screen and were promptly notified that someone had sent you flowers.

"Come on in," you replied politely and granted them access to the elevator.

The delivery service man was at your door in less than two minutes. The flower bouquet was arranged already in a pretty ceramic vase, a light pink bow wrapped around it, safekeeping a card.

You gently placed the vase in the middle of your dining table. Already knowing the one person who would send you flowers. But you took a moment before opening the envelope to see how pretty the bouquet was.

It was an assortment of all types of flowers and colors, white, yellow, pink, and blue. Then you grabbed the small envelope tucked beneath the bow.

Congratulations, baby! I wish I could be there to give you these in person. But I guess I can give you more flowers every day to make up for it, right?

I am proud of you, bunny. I love you and I miss you every second.

J.

[19:32 PM] you: thank you for the flowers, Josh. I loved them 🥰

You waited for a few seconds in hopes that he would appear online, to receive a text back, a call, anything. But his last message was an I love you, bunny, that he sent more than twenty four hours ago.

Releasing a sigh, you decided to give up your phone, since you had been obsessing over it since Joshua left and it was causing you so much mental stress that you thought you would break soon.

Besides, you would have to be ready soon. Jeonghan had offered to come pick you up himself. More like he just instructed you to be ready, not giving you a chance to pass it up for mere politeness.

But Jeonghan had become your friend, he was no longer just Joshua's friend.

Standing in front of the long mirror, you debated whether to change your dress into a two-piece suit, thinking it might be more in line with the nature of the celebration. But the dress fitted you well, it hugged you in all the right ways. The color of the fabric complimented your skin and the length came just above your knees, legs covered by stockings too.

With a sigh, you grabbed your high heels and went to open the door.

Jeonghan stood there, hand raised in a fist and a startled look in his eye. "How did you know I was already here?"

"Takes me about a minute to get here from the lobby and you just rang the doorbell, so," you replied with a dark and gloomy air about you. "So, let's go."

"Wait," he muttered softly, blocking your way. "Fix your attitude first."

"What?" you grimaced. But he only crossed his arms on his chest, tilting his head to one side. "Jeonghan, I just want to get over this."

His eyebrows pushed up. "This?" he hissed, now looking more serious with a low tone, adding: "This is your party, celebrating your accomplishment. Quit being so hung up on Joshua not being here. This is your night. Come on, let's go."

"Fine," you huffed, following him down the hallway and into the elevator. "I'm so getting drunk tonight."

"Tsk, ah you're so dramatic," he replied, rubbing one eye with the tips of his fingers. "But if it makes you feel better I am in the mood for a drink. Or two."

"It does make me feel better," you muttered awkwardly after the reproachful look Jeonghan gave you, then you feel your face contort into a smile. "You can get really feisty."

"That's the pot calling the kettle black," he muttered and broke into a chuckle himself.

"What," you blurted and his laugh became louder. "And I'm old? You're the one saying the grandpa stuff!"

"It's your influence," he finished chuckling, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "I gotta stop hanging out with you."

"And deprive yourself of good company?" you mumbled under a breath, chest swelling with pride when you could see him choke on his words, a perplexed look on his face was the last thing you saw as you walked out of the elevator.

"Ah, they learn so fast," Jeonghan said with a long sigh, his tone rising in a sing-song manner as he closed the door to his car, you sitting on the passenger seat, smoothing out the skirt of your pretty dress.

The launch party was meant to be a small gathering between friends. Since you were an anonymous author, there was no point in having a public party or in a big library with readers so this party was just to celebrate the launch.

When Jeonghan pulled up at the drive in, the car doors were opened for both of you and you stepped out to a restaurant. The front was adorned with bamboo trees and low warm lighting.

"Hold on," Jeonghan called from behind you, and you noticed that he looked somewhat jittery, sucking in a breath through his teeth. "Do you think I'm still walking funny?"

You gasped at him in exasperation. "Stop trying to distract me, Jeonghan," you whined, rolling your eyes. "Yeah, you still have a limp, but nobody is going to notice. Now can we go inside?"

"Wait, no," he laughed uncomfortably, motioning you over with a hand. "Come here."

"What?" you asked, your face dropping when you saw the serious look on his face.

Jeonghan appeared to be struggling with the tiny brooch clasped on one side of his silk shirt. "I didn't know what to get you… you don't strike me as someone who likes presents," Jeonghan began to explain, casting a meek look at your face. "And after all, you're the first writer I've ever known to publish a book."

You laughed, and rolled your eyes at his bad joke. "What is it?" you asked with excitedness now as his lithe fingers approached you.

"Can I?" he motioned to the chest of your pretty dress and waited until you nodded at him.

It was a dainty gold brooch in the shape of a dragonfly. As you ran your fingers over its small wings, you felt the small stones embedded in them.

"It's supposed to symbolize good luck," he said with a hint of nervousness.

"Thank you. I love it, Jeongjeong," you showed him a smile.

The wind picked up a little, tousling his long black hair; the fringe tangled his eyelashes and made him blink repeatedly, making you giggle. He mirrored your smile and for an instant you thought you saw something change in his eyes.

But he took a step back, pleased with the view of his gift on you, which he placed on one side of your chest.

"Yeah, it's nothing. You don't have to thank me," he brushed off, putting his hand back into his pocket. "Let's go inside.

The section that was reserved for the party was a bar area secluded at the back of the restaurant. As you approached it, being led by Jeonghan walking in front of you, eyeing you every two seconds as if confirming you hadn't run away.

"Okay, are you ready?" he said, stopping before a sliding bamboo door.

"Yeah," you replied, but your tone was full of uncertainty.

"Just put on your best smile, pretend that all of this is a surprise," he coached you just before sliding the door open, doing a half bow and his arm pointing you inside the small bar area section.

You were instantly received with a loud welcome, some of your friends were there, cheering, clapping. It totally threw a blazing hot blush on your face, but you were quick to act surprised and overly cheerful.

Your best friend, Yena, came running to you to wrap you in a hug that almost had you stumbling backwards. She laughed and bounced grabbing your hands, her joy contagious.

"You made it, you made it, you made it," she chirped with a bright smile, but her pretty eyes dimmed upon reading your face expertly. "Are you not happy? What happened?" she asked and immediately knew: "It's him, right? He's not coming."

But before you could even open your mouth to utter a word, a glass of champagne was slided onto your hand. Jeonghan appeared from behind you, handing you the glass with a meaningful look in his eye.

"Come on, have a drink," he instructed and pressed his lips into a smile at Yena in a polite manner.

You immediately downed the glass in three big gulps.

"Oh, okay," Yena narrowed her eyes, understanding the situation. "We're not talking about it, right."

The room was elegant. The walls were painted a dark color, but the warm lights shone beautifully on the pictures hanging on them, also casting shadows on the high tables.

You assumed that the area was intended for parties such as this. It seemed like an extended part of the restaurant, except it was closed off to the general consumers.

The thing about having a party to celebrate something for yourself was that you had to be the center of attention. Luckily, a lot of your guests wanted to talk about your book, about the process of writing it, about how good it was that it was out, and about making numbers.

There were one or two people from the press, sent by your agency to answer some basic questions for publicity pieces and the like. They didn't take your picture, of course, as that would defeat the purpose of anonymity.

All you had to do was have a smile on your face, be polite, be friendly, but something was off. And you didn't want to think about it, but your fingers itched to grab your phone and check if there were any messages from Joshua.

"Okay, we have like one more hour to go," Jeonghan told you, probably reading in your demeanor that you ached to go home.

"What am I going to do in one more hour?" you said insufferably.

"I don't know, I've never been to a book release party," he shrugged.

"What do you do on opening nights of plays you've directed?" you asked him.

"You mean on closing nights," he corrected, pursing his lips cutely. "It's different because a play is more like a team project. I usually just thank the people that helped me make it happen."

"I don't want to make a speech," you quickly said, seeing the little glint in his eye. "I have nothing prepared."

"You'll figure it out," he muttered before turning to the room and clearing his throat loudly.

Jeonghan grabbed two glasses of champagne, gave you one and then gave you a small encouraging smile.

"Hi, everyone," you started, a chirpy nervousness quivering your tone. You cleared your throat and once you got enough eyes on you, continued. "I just wanted to thank you all for coming, and for sharing this night with me."

You looked to the man standing by your side. Jeonghan's lips were pressed in a smile, he nodded at you and placed a lithe, delicate hand on your lower back, as if giving you his support.

"I uh, refrained from doing this party, feeling like my obligation as a writer was done the minute the first copies were printed but, that's not true," you breathed out shakily. "You're all here because you've helped me throughout this process, even with things you're aware of, or things like just being a good friend to me."

You briefly looked at Jeonghan again, his smile had fallen, but his sweet eyes locked on yours.

"I have to thank Jeonghan here, whom without none of us would be here, because I don't know how to throw a party," you heard some muffle laughter, and continued anyway. "I wouldn't have done this without you, Jeongjeong."

Jeonghan dropped his hand from your lower back, blinked slowly at you, the ghost of a smile painting his pink lips.

"How was it?" you asked nervously afterwards, feeling your limbs trembling slightly, a side effect from speaking in front of a crowd.

"You're good with words. It's almost like it's your job," Jeonghan replied, his soft brown eyes lighting up when he saw you smile and heard you laugh.

"Please," you stammered a little.

"I'm being honest," he shrugged. "You know I can be honest sometimes."

"Mmn," you pushed your lower lip outwards, narrowing your eyes at him. "I find that hard to believe."

"Well," he pondered for a second, drawing in a slow breath. "I'm always honest to you, princess."

"Why do I find that more suspicious?" you jibed at him.

He tore his eyes from your face with an embarrassed smile. "Shut up," he scoffed, raising his glass up to you and you drank with him, hearing some people clinking glasses together, some people cheering and a very distinct voice calling your name,

"Congratulations, bunny."

You instantly turned to see your boyfriend, standing behind you, so close that you just took one step to him, his arms wrapping around your body, hugging you tightly.

Your mind instantly began reeling, a thrill of both excitement and frustration coursed through you, bubbling inside your chest. "How... what are you doing here?" you gasped, holding onto him. "I thought you weren't going to make it..."

Joshua kissed your head while he hugged you, his hands rubbing up and down your back until he heard you sob. He pulled back and cupped your face with his hands, looking at your eyes with a soft expression in his face.

"And miss your big day?" he asked, leaning closer to press a tender kiss on your lips. "Wouldn't dream of it."

All the words you've been meaning to tell him coiled in your throat again. The painful thoughts made you recoil, thinking that it was best to tell him in private. So you returned the soft kiss, pressing your lips on his lower lip, feeling his small smile.

"Thank you for being here, Josh," you whispered, pulling back to take a look at his face.

The bags under his dark beautiful eyes denoted not only a long and exhausting day but weeks of hard work and no rest in between. He even looked a little pale under the warm glow of the lamps on top of both of you.

You suddenly wished you could feel bad for him, for all the accumulated remorse, frustration and sadness of him leaving, for his lack of communication, for making you feel neglected, even if he didn't intend to do so.

Joshua pressed his lips, nodding at you with a knowing look when he understood the discontent on your reaction.

"We'll talk later, okay?" you mumbled, giving him a squeeze on his arm.

"Okay," he replied, his eyes drifting from your face and falling on a figure standing beside you. A tired smile drew on your boyfriend's face as he approached his best friend. "Hannie."

They exchanged a quick hug and Joshua thanked him for helping throw the party for you. With a pang of concern, you wondered then if Joshua had heard your brief speech before he decided to approach you.

Joshua let out a sharp exhale, pulling out his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. "I have to take this," he told you, planting a kiss on your forehead and excusing himself out of the room.

You followed him with your eyes until you lost sight of him, releasing a sigh of your own, coming to grips with what was happening, you turned to Jeonghan.

"Did you know?" you demanded.

He pushed his eyebrows up. "Know what?"

"That he was coming!" you gasped, looking around to make sure no one was paying attention to the whole exchange.

"Of course not," he leaned his head back, eyeing you with a hint of reproach. "I would've told you. You know that."

You caught the certainty in his eyes. You knew that Jeonghan was a crafty liar, but he has shown you that no matter what, he has your back.

"Why do you look like that?" he muttered discreetly.

"Like what?" you mumbled with a tiny voice.

"You're doing that thing with your face when you're about to cry. Oh no–," he muttered quickly and then, his whole stance changed, he took a step closer to you, as if shielding you from the eyes of your guests when you took a sharp intake of breath, your sob resounding loudly.

"Princess, don't cry right now," he said gently, stretching an arm to reach for a napkin on the table behind you and passing it to you.

"I'm so mad at him," you whispered, lowering your head so you could easily hide your tears.

"I don't understand. You wanted him here, you cried for days because he wasn't coming and now that he is here, you're mad at him?" he muttered hurriedly, and you looked up to see his frown.

"He didn't tell me he was going to be here," you sniffed quietly, using the napkin to carefully gather your tears without ruining your makeup completely.

"That doesn't help me understand," he gave you an awkward smile, darting a look up and then back at you. "Listen, he's coming back. You can go to the washroom behind me, or you can confront him now."

You rolled your eyes, seeing the triumphant smirk stretching on his lips, because he knew what you'd choose. "Screw you, Jeonghan."

"I'll cover you. Go," he nodded back to the hallway behind him.

You swiftly walked down the hallway and towards the door of the washroom. Luckily your quick argument with Jeonghan got you heated enough that you composed yourself from the rageful fit towards your boyfriend.

So you just made sure that the makeup you used in your eyes and your lashes hadn't run. Looking in the mirror for any signs that you had cried at your own party and when you were certain enough, you walked back to the table.

Joshua was already there, having a lively conversation with Jeonghan. Your boyfriend's face lit up when he saw you, it was an attentive look he gave you, extending a hand at you as you made your way to his side, and he quickly secured an arm around your waist.

"Everything alright, bunny?" he asked.

"Joshua," you gasped, looking at Jeonghan who was witnessing your pet name being thrown around freely.

"What?" he chuckled, his smile drawing lines on the corner of his eyes.

"Don't call me that in front of people," you whined with a high pitch tone that would instantly send a warm rush of blood to your face.

"Why? You're embarrassed of what Jeonghan would think of it, baby?" he teased and you smashed a hand against his shoulder playfully.

"Yes!" you replied in an obvious tone.

"Don't worry, baby. You can trust that Hannie won't judge," he said, casting a glance to his best friend.

You suddenly felt like you were missing something. Looking at Jeonghan who just smiled at you playfully while your boyfriend appeared to be mirroring his smirk.

"Still, it makes me feel embarrassed," you muttered quietly but it was too late now.

Jeonghan chuckled at the expression on your face, mocking you a bit like he usually does. "While you two lovebirds are tearing at each other, I have to go get something arranged," he said, swiftly making his way to talk to someone from the staff.

You awkwardly turned to see your boyfriend, who broke into a shameless laugh. "Joshua, you can't be calling me bunny in front of Jeonghan."

"Why not?" he asked, shrugging off with some ease. "He calls you princess."

"You," you choked. "You know that?"

Joshua drew in a breath, chest swelling as he nodded with his head. "Yeah, I know that," he replied shortly. "I heard him."

"I thought it was a normal thing for him," you frowned, feeling a little confused.

"It's not," he breathed out, bringing up a hand to pinch your chin gingerly. "We'll talk about it later, okay?"

"Are you sure?" you blurted, reading the features of his face desperately. "I do-don't want you to think that–"

"Baby," he whispered, shaking his head slightly. "We'll talk about it later."

You decided to let that matter rest then, thinking that it was best to start by what was more important to you.

"We need to talk about many things," you said, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I know," he tilted your head back using his hand on your chin, to gently press a kiss on your lips. "Let's enjoy tonight? I have something for you."

Joshua drew a small box from the pocket of his jacket. It was a black velvet box that fit perfectly in the palm of his hand. Your heart almost gave out as he used his other hand to open it, and your hand flew to your chest.

But it was a dainty necklace, a heart locket made of gold. Heart racing, you looked up at his doe eyes, which were smiling softly upon seeing your reaction.

"Do you like it, baby?"

"Yeah," you breathed. "It's beautiful, Josh."

"Turn around," he motioned you over so he could clasp it around your neck. You pulled your hair back to give him access to your neck and placed the necklace around it. You reached for the delicate heart locket with your fingers, feeling something engraved into it.

At that moment, Jeonghan returned with a smile on his face that told you he was up to something. "The cake is here! Finally."

"What cake?!" you gasped, your heart sinking to your stomach when he pulled out his phone and started recording your face.

"Should we sing happy birthday? After all it's your book's birthday," he teased with a mischievous grin and called, "Everyone!"

Then as if on cue, everyone around you, your guests, your friends, your boyfriend behind you started chanting a happy birthday song as a big cake in the shape of your book, was neatly placed in the high top table in front of you.

You smiled when you noticed that the art of the cake was an exact replica of the cover of your book.

As the chorus continued on, you tried to keep a smile on your face, although the blush had started to create a tingling sensation on your cheeks now from the embarrassment and from being the only center of attention.

Jeonghan smiled broadly at you, keeping the camera of his phone steady on your face. He seemed content with his work, with all of the things he planned for this night.

A warm hand parked on your lower back. Joshua gave you a reassuring smile, singing along with all of your guests and friends until the song came to its end. You almost died of embarrassment. But you smiled back at your boyfriend and tried your best to enjoy the rest of the night.

The ride back home was quiet. You didn't mind this until a large and warm hand landed on top of your thigh, squishing your skin over the fabric of your stockings.

It was a squeeze that demanded attention, a look, a word, anything. Though you continued to look out the window, a wave of remorse eating you from the inside.

You fought the need to say something, but being so that the painful thoughts plagued your mind, the best choice was to keep quiet until you got home.

Still, you slid a hand on top of his.

You burned to tell him everything that kept you awake at night, you needed him to know what you felt during the days of his radio silence.

"Is everything okay, baby?" Joshua asked, following you out of the elevator and down the hallway to your door. "You've been very quiet."

The more you thought of an answer, the angrier you felt. You bit on the inside of your cheek as you opened the door for him. The twist in your stomach tightening as you crossed the living room, discarding his leather jacket on the chair placed in one corner of your bedroom.

You had no idea if he was still close behind you, the buzzing in your ears worsening as the first hiccup came.

"Baby, tell me what's wrong," you heard him say, a hint of concern lacing his sweet tone.

"You–," you choked on a sob, turning to see his face, the face you wanted to see for days. "You made me believe you weren't coming! To what end? To surprise me?"

You saw Joshua's mouth parting as he searched for words and just as he was about to start explaining himself, your rage made you spurt out words out of your mouth, tears rolling down your cheeks.

"Do you know how fucking bad I felt the whole time?" you demanded, turning away from him when you saw his face contort into a sad frown. "I thought you didn't care enough to be here, do you know how fucked up is that?"

You were standing in front of your dresser, pretending to take off your earrings but the silence from him was killing you, so you turned around again to see him.

Joshua looked at you cautiously for a second, his throat bobbing as it seemed that he too choked on his own words. "I didn't want to give you any false hope by telling you I'd be here when I wasn't sure myself," he said with a low tone, giving you a guilty look. "I tried to get as much work done as possible so I could come see you."

You sniffed, standing with your shoulders drawn back, feeling yourself guarding up again. "Why didn't you at least say something today?" you uttered, tasting the saltiness of your tears that fell on the corners of your lips.

"I've been working from six in the morning," he said, cocking his head to one side. "And then I was on another flight, exhausted so I fell asleep."

"That's a bad excuse, Joshua," you reprimanded with ire blinding you now, taking your high heels to toss them on one corner of your closet.

"All day I've been checking my phone to see if I get anything from you, do you know how that feels?" you were raising your voice now, from the bottled up emotions, the stress and frustration from today.

"Yes. I do, actually."

Joshua looked upwards, releasing a sigh that made his shoulders go slack. He looked like he hated this, to fight with you. He looked the same way he did that night when you both got angry at each other on the rooftop.

You trapped your lower lip between your teeth in an attempt to stop it from quivering and looked away from your boyfriend's face.

"I'm sorry," he said, now looking at you again, sorrow in his eyes as he took a cautious step towards you. "I'm so sorry, baby. I tried to get here as a surprise, yes. But I just couldn't leave without getting work done first and that delayed everything. I couldn't get to your party on time and I'm sorry for it."

As soon as his arms wrapped around you, you hid your face on the crook of his neck. With a strangled sob, you got the scent of his musky cologne, the very distinct smell of his skin as you clung to the white t-shirt he was wearing.

"I'm sorry too," you whispered.

"Sh, it's okay. It's okay," he shushed repeatedly, grabbing your face with his hands and leaned to look in your eyes, face to face. "You have nothing to apologize for, baby. This is on me, I fucked up and I am sorry."

"I shouldn't have yelled at you," you sobbed and quieted down when he pressed his forehead against yours.

"It's okay, it's okay" he replied, swallowing hard. "Yell at me, swear at me, but talk to me, baby. Don't keep it to yourself."

"I was so mad," you mumbled, grabbing his wrists with your hands.

Joshua pulled back, giving you space to breathe. You saw the remorse in his face, his eyebrows knitting together, his big eyes following your mouth and your eyes as you continued to shed tears.

"I thought that you didn't care to be here," you confessed with a tiny hiccup.

"I'm sorry baby, that was the least of my intentions," he replied softly, but you could see the trouble it caused him to hear you say that. "Believe me, I tried to get to your party on time."

"I believe you, Josh," you replied, feeling like you could start crying again. "But I just wish you'd let me know earlier."

A deep frown appeared on his face. "I never wanted to make you feel bad, baby."

Before you could hold rein to your actions, your head tilted, your heart already giving into the big brown eyes that were pleading for you to forgive him.

"I told you that next time I wouldn't be too forgiving," you reminded him, your tone coated with a gentleness that signified your resignation over your anger.

Joshua's gaze softened, lifting a hand to caress your cheek with his long and delicate fingers. "I know, baby. I'm so sorry" he sighed in relief when you suddenly wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. "How can I make it up to you?"

"Just..." you whispered, pulling back slightly, hands encircling his neck lightly. "Kiss me."

He looked unsure for a second. As if he wanted to say more, but quickly obliged to your request, seeing that you were seeking something more than an exchange of words. You needed him.

His hand found your chin, grabbing you gently as he leaned closer, swallowing hard before pressing his lips on yours. Your hands cupped the back of his head, urging him to kiss you deeper, harder.

"Baby," he grunted in your mouth. "Don't you think we need to talk more about this?"

"No," you brushed off immediately, using your hands to press on the back of his head, crushing your mouth on his.

But even if he was returning the kiss, you didn't feel him there. You could almost hear his mind reeling.

"Please, Joshua," you sobbed, something so desperate in you that your voice quivered. "Please, baby, just kiss me."

"We need to talk," he responded. "We've been going around in circles with this. We can't solve this by having sex. You know that."

"What are you talking about?" you pulled back, retrieving your hands from his nape.

He looked at you in disbelief for a second. "I know something's wrong," he frowned. "I've known you long enough to notice when you're deflecting."

"Josh," you sighed.

"Baby, you promised," he insisted, his big eyes reading your face.

"What do you want me to say?" you blurted, digging your grave further.

"What's going on?" he asked gently.

Your heart crushed at the look he gave you. Like a lost puppy, trying to chase you, you tried to ignore the sound of his voice breaking a little.

"It's nothing," you whispered. "I've been a little bummed about you leaving—no, not leaving. I just wish you reached out to me more frequently. We talked about this last time! You've been ignoring me and I feel hurt over that."

"I don't do it on purpose," he said with a tired sigh, but he looked guilty. "I try to get all of your messages but the truth is... I'm tired."

Your heart deflated, but you quickly understood that he wasn't talking about you, or your relationship. Joshua meant his life, his career taking off faster than he or you could comprehend.

"Everything is happening so fast, I feel like I haven't had time to breathe," he said with a strangled tone. "I'm sorry, baby. I never meant for you to be affected by this. By me."

You reached out to hold his hand, making his big eyes look back to you. "Why didn't you tell me?" you asked softly.

"I don't want to burden you, bunny," he muttered, squeezing your hand. "But I realize now that it was better to tell you. None of this would've happened if I had."

You used your free hand to push his hair back from his face. "I should've told you sooner too."

The corners of his lips rose slightly. "I guess we're both learning about this, right?"

"I guess we are," you whispered.

"C'mere," he mouthed, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug, one arm around your waist and the other across your back, his hand reaching the back of your head.

His kiss was tender at first, his lips brushing yours softly, his tongue caressing your lower lip, once, twice until you moaned helplessly. Then the kiss deepened, demanding more from each other, your breath hitched as his mouth crushed into yours, tongues meeting with hunger.

Your hands searched for the hem of his white t-shirt, pulling it up clumsily.

Joshua pulled back from the kiss, yanking his t-shirt from his body in one movement and tossed it to one side blindly. Then you heard him inhale sharply when your hands ran over his toned pecs, to his lats, feeling the hard muscle, his soft skin.

You kissed his mouth, his cheek, a hand caressing his long hair as you moved to kiss his eyelids, standing on your tiptoes to reach him.

Joshua laughed softly, his hands squeezing your waist with urge. "Sit back, baby," he pushed you to the edge of your bed.

You obediently did so, but hooked your fingers on the belt of his jeans, pulling him towards you. You heard a gasp that resembled the sound he makes when he smiles.

"Oh," he blurted. "Baby, slow down."

You were placing open mouthed kisses on his tummy, a soft moan escaped you when you caught the familiar taste of his skin. Your hands caressed him as your kisses trailed up his pecs, licking one nipple first.

"Mmn," he hummed softly, his hand cupping the side of your head when your teeth grazed the underside of his pectoral, playfully landing more kisses around the sensitive area of his darkened bud.

You took your time doing the same exploration on the other side of his chest. The tip of your tongue lapping on his nipple, tasting his skin, the scent of his cologne.

You suckled on his skin harshly, hearing a soft grunt reverberating on the chest you were leaving marks on.

"Lie back, sweetheart," he urged when you detached your mouth from his beautiful skin, now marked with reddened spots.

You crawled on the bed, watching him follow you, pressing one knee after the other, looking at you with a gaze darkened with lust and love.

Joshua pressed his body against yours, trapped now between him and your mattress. He resumed kissing you deeply, his hand crept from your face, down to your neck, caressing your shoulder, searching for your hand to lace his fingers with yours.

"Joshua," you mumbled into his mouth as he gave you shallow kisses, moaning softly in your lips. "Baby."

"Mm?" he responded, kissing your mouth as if he wanted to melt into you.

"I want you to do something for me," you said, your breath catching when he flipped your body and his on the bed, so now you were straddling him. Some of the seams of the skirt of your dress ripped, and you pulled it upwards, uncovering up to your butt.

"Anything," he breathed, the pads of his pointer and middle finger grazing your cheek, holding you still as he placed feathery kisses on your lips.

You pulled back slightly, looking at the beautiful features of his face. "This is going to sound crazy."

The soft lines between his eyebrows showed when he frowned ever so slightly. "What?" he asked, his eyes reading your every expression.

You fidgeted with the long strands of his hair, looking for the words to express what you wanted without sounding ridiculous.

"Do you want to take control, baby?" he guessed, moving his head to one side while reading your face with his eyes. "Is that what you want?"

"No, no," you giggled a bit from how far off his idea was from yours. "It's quite the opposite really..." you brushed the studded piercing with your thumb, making his eyelids flutter.

"Tell me what you want, bunny," he whispered.

"I want you to be... hard on me, Josh," you asked, positioning your knees firmly on the bed to press your crotch on the hard bulge beneath his pants.

A low grunt coiled in his throat, his hands sliding down your body to grasp your hips. "Why?" he grunted, his frown not relaxing.

"I just want it," you pressed down again, moving your crotch against his hardened cock, the seam of his jeans rubbing against the sensitive bud of your cunt. "Please?"

"Mmn," he hummed seemingly pondering over your request, his hand came up to hold your chin, pressing open mouthed kisses on your lips. "Don't you want me to spoil you tonight, baby?"

"You can spoil me by being a little mean to me," you teased, a grin appearing on your lips, which he kissed right away.

"That's something I never thought you'd say, baby," he admitted with a breathy chuckle that you felt in your mouth.

"Please, Josh?" you pleaded, putting on your best puppy eyes.

"Do you think you deserve it, baby?" he asked, his voice merely a rasp.

You took some consideration over his words and then nodded slowly, mouthing, "Yeah, I do."

"Have you been bad, sweetheart?" his tone had recovered, now waking with the usual tone he uses when he's domming you.

"Yeah, I think I have been," you responded with a sweet tone of your own.

His pretty pouty lips stretched in a small smirk. "Mmn, my baby was bad while I was away?" he purred, his dark eyes glimmering under the soft lights of your bedroom lamps.

"Maybe a little," you replied cheekily.

"A little?" he toyed, giggling a little. "If you were only a little, I don't see why I should go hard on you."

"Mm, because I want you to," you replied, pouting at him now. "Come on, baby. I can take it."

He appeared to be considering your proposition, weighing in your words, the look on your face, the determination he probably saw in you and with a final booping of your nose with the tip of his finger he nodded.

"Anything that you don't like, anything you feel wrong, you can tell me," he promised. "You know that, right?"

"I know, Josh." you smiled meekly at him, caressing his dark locks.

"That's my baby," he whispered, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he met them with your own.

You knew why he said this every time he dommed you. Within all of the nights that you have spent under his control, though not many, you've gotten a sense that he said this because without your consent, none of it would work.

It was simple. Joshua would go as far as you would allow him to go.

His hand left the side of your thigh and found your neck, the pads of his fingers caressing your jawline as he brought your face down so he could kiss you.

"Why have you been bad, baby?"

A deep remorseful feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. You knew he'd try to understand why you wanted him to punish you. By now it was some form of therapy for the two of you, letting it out on sex, talking it out, reconciliations during after care.

But this time, instead of you dodging your answers, Joshua gave it right for you.

"Have you been losing trust in me lately?" he asked, his tone soft and so calculated that you had to pull back to take a look at the features of his face. "Is that how you've been bad?"

"Yeah," you whispered, waiting for his reaction, expecting to see him turning this around and trying to talk you out of the situation. "Are you mad at me?"

"No baby, of course not," he reassured, drawing in a breath as his hand grasping the side of your neck pulled you in for another long, wet kiss.

"But, don't you think I need to be punished?" you asked with an overly sweet and innocent tone.

"Is that why you want me to go hard on you?" he growled as you decided to start grinding on him again. "You want me to, god, slow down, baby."

You immediately slowed the sway of your hips on him, deciding to ease your weight on him, moving your crotch ever so slightly on his. "Yeah," you replied, pressing down on his crotch, angling your cunt against the seam of his jeans.

"Do you feel like you need to be punished, bunny?" he leaned his head in the direction of his shoulder.

"I do, Josh," you mewled with a sigh, pressing your crotch on him slowly.

"Then that's all I need," he growled in your mouth, cupping the back of your head to capture your lips with his own with a gasp, kissing you fervently.

His fingers tangled into the hair growing on the base of your head, fisting it as the kiss turned into a hard, heated one. You felt a hand searching the chest of your dress, then you understood that he was getting rid of the brooch Jeonghan gave you.

Joshua tossed it aside, your gift landing somewhere on the bed. "I need you out of this," he grunted in your mouth, his fist scrunching the skirt of your dress, motioning it upwards.

"Help me with the zipper?" you asked with a nervous whisper.

"Yeah," he replied, fingers swiftly getting zipping down your dress.

You climbed off of him and the bed altogether, removing your dress with a playfulness to your movements. Joshua propped himself on his elbows to watch you reveal a new set of lingerie, the pastel blue contrasting with the thigh high black stockings.

"Do you like it?" you mumbled sweetly, lifting your arms delicately before you did a half twirl for him, showing him the back of your panties, that exposed your buttcheeks.

Joshua sighed in delight, pushing himself off the bed and walked to you. "I love it, baby," he replied.

"Do you want me to leave it on?" you asked, as you reached out to get the rest of his clothes, undoing his belt with shaky fingers.

"For now, yeah," he replied gruffly, watching you zip his pants down, tucking your hands beneath the stretchy fabric of his black boxers to yank them down and he helped you remove them by stepping out of his clothes.

Once he was wholly naked, you marveled in all his beauty, the proud nakedness in which he stood in front of you.

A fingertip dipped gently in his belly button, making him smile fondly at you. But the smile faltered when you trailed down, feeling the soft hairs of the happy trail that led to his pubic hair.

Your fingers encircled around the girth of his cock, already hard for you. The skin of his shaft was soft, interrupted only by the vein on the underside and the ridges before the bulbous, rosy brown head. You pumped him slowly, gently, your thumb gathering the precum gathering in his slit.

You sank to your knees, casting a look up at him. Your eyes locked with his as you pressed a soft kiss on the tip of his cock, licking your lips, tasting his precum in the process.

His hand brushed your hair from one side of your head. "Baby," he rasped. "Oh, god, baby," he moaned deeply when you took his cockhead into your mouth, wrapping your lips around it, tongue pressing on him as you pushed your head forward.

You slowly bobbed your head back and forth, taking him an inch further at a time, swirling your tongue around his cockhead every time you pulled your mouth back on him.

"Fuck, baby," he whispered gruffly, closing his eyes briefly to then use his hands to pull your head back. "Just like that."

You lapped your tongue on his cockhead, running the soft part of the underside of your tongue around him as you moved your head back, a soft smacking noise created by your lips when you kissed his tip.

"Do you want to fuck my mouth, Josh?" you asked using a sweet tone, looking up to his eyes, which darkened with lust and fascination over you.

"Do you still remember how to do this, baby?" he asked, grabbing his drool coated cock with one hand, the other parking firmly on the back of your head, holding you steady.

Your eyes looked up to him, his facial expression controlled, measured as he smirked at you when you instinctively parted your mouth for him. "Good girl."

You pulled out your tongue, letting him rest his heavy cock on top of it. When you heard a soft grunt escape him, you closed your lips around his thick girth, simulating an open kiss, pulling your mouth back and creating a soft, smacking sound on the reddened tip of his.

"I'm going to move on your mouth," he warned with a soft tone, removing his hand from his cock to hold your head now with both of his hands. "Tap on me if you want me to stop."

Your eyes dropped from his face, to the faint film sweat trailing down his neck, between his pecs and onto the hard muscles of his abdomen that clenched softly when he started pushing his cock down your throat.

A moan got muffled by his cock in your mouth. You remembered to tell yourself to relax your tongue under the heavy length of him, giving him access to fuck your mouth freely.

"That's it baby," he whispered when he felt your mouth go lax. "You always take my cock so fucking well."

Your eyes were following the movements of his body, relishing on the way he kept himself controlled, slowly pacing himself, pushing an inch farther with each thrust until you nearly brushed his soft pubic hair with the tip of your nose.

One hand moved from the back of your head to the side of your face, his thumb resting on top of your cheekbone as he commanded your eyes up to his.

"Breathe, bunny," he directed with a gentleness that betrayed his following movements.

With a gasp, he snapped his head back, ramming his cock inside your mouth. Your hands flew to hold onto the hard muscle of his thighs, gagging around his girth, the tip reaching the back of your mouth, hitting the spot repeatedly.

The hand that was still on the back of your head, holding you by your hair forced you back, to give himself ample space to push his cock farther, so that he could hear you gag around him, feel the muscles of your throat constricting around his tip.

"Fuck," he breathed, closing his eyes to the vision of you taking him so obediently. "Mmph," he let out a puff of air.

You responded with a moan of your own. Watching him screwing his eyes shut, forcing himself to keep his pace steady, slow for you instead of tearing your mouth open with his cock. Even though it was exactly what you wanted.

"Oh, god," he groaned, with his head still tilted back, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. "Baby—fuck. Baby you feel so, so good."

You let out a whiny noise, making him lower his gaze at you.

"I'm close," he breathed, a grunt coming out of him as he swallowed hard again. His finger digging on the soft skin of your cheek as he said. "And you are taking it all, bunny."

You moaned in a half confirmation sound as best as you could, still gagging on him, tears running down your cheeks uncontrollably, drool dripping down the corners of your lips and onto your chin.

"Good girl," he gasped softly, closing his eyes with a pleased grin on his face.

Then he lost the grin when his mouth parted, his brow furrowing gently before he moaned deeply. You held in a breath through your nose, swallowing the ropes of cum spurting out of his cock and down your throat.

Joshua had stopped his thrusts, as he came with deep breaths and tiny grunts, keeping you still for him while sighing: "Goooood fucking girl."

But he pulled out too quickly, sloppily. You noticed it was on purpose by his controlled move: using the hand on your face to push back your chin, forcing your mouth open and removing his cock from your throat.

You choked, coughed and breathed in, all within two seconds. Hot tears sprinted from your eyes as you remained on his firm grasp, keeping your head leaned back.

"Breathe. Breathe through your nose," he whispered softly, using the pad of his thumb to gather the cum and drool that you had spat back on your chin, sliding it back to your mouth. "Thaaat's it, baby. Slowly."

You breathed in desperately, heaving almost; vision going blurry in and out as more hot tears kept on falling on your cheeks.

"You did so well, bunny," he muttered, a cheeky grin falling on the features of his face.

His large hand released your hair, sliding on the side of your face, cupping it fully. You closed your eyes, a sigh escaping you because of the tenderness of his touch, feeling it cause your skin to prickle.

"Want me to make you feel good, sweetheart?"

Panting, you raised your gaze to see him. A cold shudder coursed through you when you saw his controlled manner, the enjoyment in his dark glimmering eyes.

"Please?" you mumbled, and upon speaking you had to gulp hard and clear your throat.

"Sit on the bed for me," he nodded behind you and you rose to your feet, quickly sitting on the edge of your bed. A question arose in your mind as to what were your boyfriend's next moves.

"I love it when you use these," he mumbled, running the pads of his fingers over the lace band of your high knee stockings. "You looked so beautiful tonight, baby."

"Thank you, Josh," you beamed at him, the gesture making him cup your cheek, leaning to get a quick kiss from your lips.

His hand slid to your back, skin prickling as his fingers unfastened the clasp of your pastel blue bra. The other hand grabbed your bra by its middle, pulling it from your body with one swift move, leaving your tits bare for his view.

Joshua wasted no time as his hands moved to the band of your pretty lace panties. You propped your hands behind you, leaning back slightly as he slid your panties down your thighs, unhooking one ankle after the other.

Then it was his turn to drop to his knees, your bed was high enough so he only leaned his head between your thighs, motioning them over with his large hands and you placed them each on his shoulders, locking your ankles, feet resting comfortably on his back.

"I've missed you so much, bunny," he muttered, littering your inner thighs with kisses, reaching your mound before angling your thighs open for him, his tongue lapping between your folds, giving them a broad stroke.

"Mmnph, Josh," you mewled, hands flying to tangle your fingers in his hair, following the movements of his head as he gave your cunt generous strokes with his tongue. "Joshua—fuck, baby, yes, yes."

The tip of his tongue swirled around your bud, gently tugging at it with his lips before sucking on it lightly. Your thighs flinched, a moan spilling from your lips when he stuck to flick at your clit with the tip of his tongue.

He continued teasing your clit like this until you came, fast and loud, fingers clenching on his long hair, crying out his name. But he didn't stop there, instead, you felt his lips wrap around your now swollen bud, starting to suckle at it gently.

"Josh," you called, propping yourself on your elbows. "Baby, I need you now," you mewled, but he completely ignored you.

He started to suck on your clit harder, moaning against your clit as you came on his mouth again, writing desperately, making his hands hold you down to the bed.

"Were you bad while I was away, baby?" he asked softly.

You were breathing slowly, coming down from your high with trembling limbs and barely able to utter a word when a firm slap came down your clit.

"I asked you a question," he rasped, ignoring your loud and very lewd yelp. He landed another slap, using his four fingers on your clit.

"Fuck," you breathed, flinching on your bed when you received the intense feeling of his hand clashing with your sensitive clit. "Yeah, I have."

Joshua rose to his feet, and you couldn't help but feast your eyes over his beautiful body. The hickeys on his chest were flaring red, your eyes trailing down to see his cock fully hard again.

"You've been having fun while I was away, baby?" he purred, dipping his fingers on your core to then push the pads of his fingers over your swollen clit, covering it with your arousal.

"F-fun?" you squeaked pathetically.

"Fucking yourself with your toys, with your hands... thinking of someone who isn't me, perhaps?" he cocked his head to one side.

You paused, feeling your heart sink down to your stomach. And before you could grasp at the evident trap in his question, another harsh slap landed right on your clit.

"No, no!" you replied as quickly as you could. "I'd never do that!"

"Mn? Then how have you been bad, baby?" he asked, pinching your clit with his fingers, giving it pulsating pinches over and over before delivering another slap.

The intense feeling your pussy suffered made you convulse. "Fuck! That's too much, baby," you said in a fucked out tone, recoiling when he swiftly slapped your clit again.

"That's not my name, bunny," he growled, a devilish smirk appearing on his face.

"Sorry," you slurred out.

"Did you imagine someone else playing with this pussy, baby?" he continued with his little game of questions, his honeyed voice sending a chill through your body.

"No! I wouldn't—I'd never," you gasped pathetically, your legs beginning to shake from the lack of support.

"Did you wish someone else fucked you?"

The ghost of a smirk crowned his lips, the studded eyebrow twitching up slightly when you didn't answer. You held in a breath when you saw Joshua grabbing his cock with one hand, guiding it to your entrance.

A pathetic mewl spilled from your lips when he sheathed his cock inside you in one go, holding your legs with his arms, hands parked on your hips as he fucked you slowly at first.

"Oh, god," you sighed, the bite of his cock stretching your walls felt mind-numbingly good that you barely had any control over yourself.

"What's that, bunny?" he gasped, the features of his face riddled with pleasure too.

"Josh," you whimpered, rendered utterly useless, all you could focus on was his cock, stretching your walls like nothing else. "Please, faster, fuck me faster, please."

Joshua blinked slowly at you, there was no denying the love in his eyes. But he didn't give you what he wanted, he continued to push his cock inside you slowly, enjoying the pulsating of your walls around him from all the pleasure building up, anticipating another climax.

"Do you want someone else playing with what's mine?" he asked in a hollow tone, his usual sweetness robbed by the strain and the focus he kept over the calculated pace of his thrusts.

You felt your brow furrowing in confusion, a light gasp leaving your mouth before you could even think of a response.

"Did you miss me, princess?" he asked, his movements picking some speed, fucking you with shallow thrusts, testing you before starting to plow on you mercilessly.

The change was so sudden you were snapped from your quiet confusion.

"Yes, Josh! O-of course," you gasped, your hands searching for something to hold onto. His thrusts became so brutal that your entire body was pushed on your bed, making your tits bounce and your breath catch.

"Mmn," he hummed before letting a puffy sigh out of his lips, then he tilted his head back, eyelids fluttering as he moaned deeply. "Fuuuck," he rasped as he came inside you with hard thrusts, his mouth parting slightly.

A chill coursed through you. Joshua didn't care if you came with him, or before him, he emptied himself inside you without a warning, his face torn with pleasure as he did so. And even if you felt close to your own climax, you couldn't care less as well.

Joshua stopped pushing his cock inside you, shuddering slightly when he pulled out of you not a minute after. His cum dripped out of you helplessly, leaving a warm trail as it slid slowly from your entrance.

"God, baby, you're so messy," he reproached with a soft tone.

"Mm?" you cluelessly looked at him. "Fuck!" you gasped when his fingers swiftly picked up his own cum, pushing it back to your core.

Then he took his long fingers between your lips, inserting them into your mouth. You tasted the salt of his cum and your own arousal, making you inhale deeply because of the sudden intrusion of his fingers deep in your tongue.

"Good girl," he whispered, pulling out his two fingers to dip them into your fluttering core again.

"Josh," you mewled, squirming when the pads of his fingers played with the cum dripping out from you.

"Shhh," he shushed you softly, taking his fingers to your mouth again, smiling when you sucked them clean diligently. "You're being such a good girl right now. So good for me."

"Babe," you breathed out when you were able to speak again. "God, Joshua," his fingers were inside you again, pushing his cum back into your cunt, massaging your walls in the process.

"Yes, bunny?" he replied when you called his name. "What do you want?"

"More," you mewled pathetically. "Please."

You had realized that his other hand was working on himself, his fist pumping his cock slowly, getting himself hard at the sight of you dripping in cum, tears, drool, legs shaking, asking for more.

Joshua tilted his head slightly to one side. "More?" he smiled cheekily, introducing a third finger inside you.

"Joshua," you whined over the squelching sounds caused by his fingers plunging in and out of you. "Don't tease me."

But he continued pushing his fingers in, the pads of his fingers pressing on your front walls, making you squirm in the bed, a hand scrunching on the covers of your bed.

"Please?" you gasped lewdly. "Please, Josh, you know what I want, please."

Joshua tilted his head back, cocking the studded eyebrow, looking at you with so much awe, smiling mischievously when you started pleading for more. His fist continued pumping on his cock, picking up some speed that made him take a deep breath, resisting his own pleasure to tease you some more.

"Joshua, please!" you whined, trying to resist the intense feeling that his fingers pushing on your wall caused, thinking that he was aiming to get you to tap out.

But you resisted, though, marveling over the controlled movements of his body, how he kept the pace of his hands steady, without pausing to rest.

"God, Joshua!" you yelped loudly when his fingers shifted, pressing on the right spot, causing you to flinch. Your other hand flew to hold onto your bed covers too.

"Yeah? Right there?" he asked, to then bite on his lower lip, watching you as you continued to writhe desperately, moaning for more.

"Please, please," you mewled over and over, now pleading for him to continue massaging on your glorious spot.

Joshua showed you a wolfish grin when you quickly switched your pleas. "You're gonna come, baby?" he purred with a mocking tone. "Aw, over some fingers? And here I thought you were begging to have my cock."

"Josh, please, god, please," you breathed, your jaw going slack when the plunging of his fingers inside you turned more forceful.

You cried out pathetically, screwing your eyes shut to let some tears run down your temples. A spurt of warm liquid came out of you, making you whimper dramatically and open your eyes to see his hand covered in your mess.

"You're making a mess, baby," Joshua sighed in awe while watching you squirt on his hand.

He grabbed his own t-shirt that was discarded on one corner of your bed and gently pressed it against your skin, cleaning all traces of his and your arousal.

"Mmph," you hummed with a sigh, propping up your body with your elbows on your bed. "Joshua, please. Fuck me, pl-please, fuck me."

He tossed the ruined t-shirt to a corner of your bedroom and nodded at the bed. "Move back for me, baby," he instructed, climbing on the bed after you.

His hands reached out to grab your legs by the back of your knees, pulling your body to the middle of the bed with a yank. Then Joshua pushed your legs up to your chest, thighs squeezing your tits as he leaned over you.

"Joshua, please, no teasing," you pleaded when he grabbed his cock with one hand, running the tip across your wet folds to see the reaction on your face when he pushed the tip in your entrance slowly.

"Tell me you want it," he said, his studded eyebrow quirking up slightly.

"I want it, Joshua," you replied instantly. "Please, I want it."

"Tell me you want me," he growled, pushing his cock inside you, inch by inch, stuffing you full, but ever so slowly.

"Please!" you gasped, sounding pathetic, your hands searching his shoulders to hold onto him, to urge him completely inside you. "I want you, Joshua, please, please."

Joshua pushed his chest against the back of your thighs, slipping his length inside you to his hilt. His hands shifted on your sides, one to support his own weight and the other to grab your chin, forcing your eyes on him.

"Gah,"you choked up, tears brimming in your eyes when he started pushing his cock inside you, his thrusts fucking you deeper than ever before. "Joshua, Joshua..."

"Yeah, baby. That's my name," he groaned softly, his brow furrowing with some strain. His hand left your chin, his fingers curling on the bed covers, as if he were trying with all of his strength not to lose his control on you.

"Hmmn," you mewled when he instantly reached a spot inside you that made pleasure course through your whole body like a bolt of lightning.

"Do you like how I make you feel?" he said through a raspy breath.

You felt the features of your face contort with the confusion that flashed in your mind, but you nodded nonetheless. "Yeah, it's you, Josh," you mewled. "It's all you."

Joshua kept his thrusts steady, fucking you deep and slowly. His eyes trained on your face as you continued to breath out lewd moans, your mouth parted, eyebrows knitted.

"That's my girl," he praised, a grunt coiling in his throat as his thrusts became more desperate. "My girl."

"Yours," you whispered entrancingly. "I'm yours only, Josh."

"You're mine," he blurted with a ragged breath.

You nodded, unable to utter a word. His thrusts were robbing the air out of you, ramming his cock in, plunging inside you so hard that you were reduced to lewd gasps, hot tears spilling from your eyes.

Joshua screwed his eyes shut for a second, a sharp breath leaving him as his hips slammed into your body, for a second that was all you heard, the sounds of skin slapping together combined with your ragged gasps, the sound of your bed creaking as he kept fucking you into the mattress.

A vein had started to pop on his forehead, his eyes were glistening but he kept them trained on yours. The beautiful features of his face went lax with lust, making him moan, the sound reverberating against your body.

For a second, you just looked at each other, so mad for each other, there were no words either of you could exchange to express what you felt.

"Bunny," he gasped with urgency. "Come for me."

You nodded, a hand searching his face, cupping his chin as you slowly gave into the pleasure blooming inside your body. Joshua turned to kiss the palm of your hand, a gesture so tender that betrayed the animalistic pace to which he was fucking you, making you his.

"I'm coming, 'm—Joshua!" you gasped as you came undone under him, pleasure flooding inside you, taking over every part of your body. Your orgasm hit you so hard you even felt it on your face, tingling in your cheeks, making you close your eyes.

Until you heard a gasp, Joshua came inside you a couple of seconds after you, emptying himself with shallow thrusts. But he didn't relent there, he lowered your legs immediately, clashing his mouth on yours.

Joshua eased his body on top of you, pressing his chest against yours to kiss you deeply, moaning in your mouth as he stopped thrusting his cum inside you sloppily.

Chests heaving, you wrapped him in your arms as he appeared to be blinking slowly, dropping his head in the crook of your neck to come down off his high. His weight was almost crushing you, but you welcomed the pressure from it, the warmth, the scent of his hair and his skin.

You ran the pads of your fingers on the line of his back, feeling him shudder hard but didn't protest against it. "I love you," you whispered.

Joshua didn't respond at first, he continued breathing hard on the curve where your jawline and your neck meet, pressing languid kisses on your skin every two seconds.

His hand crept up from your cheek to the back of your head, then he shifted on top of you to give you a shallow kiss on your lips. "I love you too, bunny."

You were a mess, your skin pricked where your tears had left a trail, your limbs were shaking beneath his weight, you felt a wet tingle where his and your body met.

"You were so good, baby," he whispered, his thumb caressing your cheek as he continued giving you shallow kisses. "Let me take care of you now, okay?" he pulled out of you, drawing a small groan from your mouth.

What happened next was nothing out of routine for you. He started the shower and carried you in bridal style, being that your legs were still shaking badly.

When you got back to the bedroom, he offered himself to towel dry your hair after you put on your bunny pyjamas. So you were sitting on the bed, Joshua was carefully pressing a towel around your hair for some minutes until you looked over your shoulder, and told him to stop.

He looked so tired, but focused on drying your hair, brushing it with his long fingers with so much care, sighing deeply.

"Baby, let's go to sleep, okay?" you offered sweetly.

"Yeah, okay," he whispered, getting up from your bed to discard the towel.

"I threw your t-shirt in the washing machine," you informed him as you crawled beneath the bed covers on your designated side of the bed.

You looked at your boyfriend, crossing the bedroom to slide his body beside yours, immediately wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer to him.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he said tiredly.

You pressed your chest against him, reaching his pouty lips with your own for a tender kiss. "You don't have to thank me for that," you sighed, caressing his cheekbones with your fingertips. "Maybe you should consider leaving some clothes here. If you want to, obviously."

He pulled back slightly, eyeing you with curiosity. "O-okay, I will," he smiled softly.

For a second, you marveled at the sight of him and returned the smile.

"Or you could also consider moving in, when you get back from work. If... you want to," you breathed nervously, your eyes shifting from his face, unable to keep them locked with his.

Joshua didn't reply as fast as you initially thought he would. You almost thought you had said something crazy, something so insanely out of place for you that had left him speechless.

But he just looked at you fondly. A small sigh left him when his smile broadened.

"I'd love that, baby," he replied warmly.

"Okay," you whispered, reaching for his lips again.

What you intended for a sweet and tender kiss turned into a deep, hungry one in a matter of seconds. Joshua grunted in your mouth, a hand cupping your cheek as his tongue lapped on your lower lip, making you sigh a moan.

"Marry me," he blurted, his lips brushing yours in the process.

You laughed lazily in his mouth. "Okay."

"I mean it," he breathed, kissing the apple of your cheek, your eyelid, then an eyebrow, littering kisses all over your face.

"Baby," you protested. "You need to calm down."

"No," he growled, cupping your cheek with one hand. "I'm crazy about you. I want you with me in every way possible."

"Sleep first, baby boy," you teased. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."

Joshua rolled his eyes at your teasing, but he leaned in, giving you a soft kiss before you turned your back to his chest for him to hug you, fitting his body to the shape of yours.

You exhaled, pleased with the warmth exuding from his half naked body cuddling you, an arm over your waist, his breath caressing your neck, until,

"Baby," Joshua called softly, drawing a breath through his nose that denoted how tired he really was. "Would you feel better if you came along with me? On tour?"

"What are you talking about?" you asked, turning over on the bed to look at his face.

Joshua repositioned his head beneath his fist, lying now on his side. His free hand searched yours to lace his fingers with you. "I know with me being so busy, traveling and working, I've been making you feel a little neglected. I don't want to make you feel like this, I..." he looked to the corner of the room mindlessly, gathering his thoughts. "I want you close to me."

There were dark circles under his eyes, his lips were slightly chapped on the corners. But he kept his gaze trained on your face, there was a gentle calmness in him, just as the night he asked you to be his wife.

"We live very different lives, Josh," you whispered carefully, selecting your words. "I can't move around while writing a book. I kind of need stability to work."

"I don't want you to feel lonely," he said, his voice breaking a little when he uttered the last word.

"Well, then we just have to find a way we can make this work," you muttered softly. "I know that you don't want to make me feel neglected but your actions say the opposite."

"I know," he whispered, nodding with his head slowly. "I'm going to fix it, I promise."

"I'm going to need more than that, Josh," you mumbled, a small, cheeky smile appearing on your face.

His big dark eyes looked worried a second before he caught on your playfulness. "Yeah? And what would that be?"

"I'm going to need about a hundred kisses from you," you replied, your heart crushing over the smile that drew on his face.

"Just a hundred?" he taunted, his hand leaving yours and finding the crook of your neck, holding you gently as he leaned over your face to press a soft kiss, after the other, humming happily.

"Maybe two hundred."

"I can do more," he mumbled with a singsong tone.

"Three thousand, then."

Joshua chuckled breathily. "We're from hundreds to thousands that quickly?"

"Only if you want me to forgive you," you replied playfully between his tender kisses that he pressed against your lips.

"What else do you want?" he mumbled, his sweet voice laced with some raspiness.

"I want french toast for breakfast tomorrow," you said after a long moment of thought.

"You got it, Ms. Hong," he replied with a small smile, looking at you with such tenderness that you almost felt like sobbing. "What else?"

"I want you to take me out for a date," you said, now your tone sounding meek and tiny. "You're all talk with the Ms. Hong thing, but haven't taken me on an official date, yet, Mr. Hong."

"I will take you on a date," he muttered between kisses that were turning into more prolonged ones. "On several dates. For the rest of your life."

You cupped his cheek with one hand, and he ceased his shower of kisses to look into your eyes.

"I want you, Joshua," you whispered, trying to convey all your love into a couple of words.

"I want you too, bunny," he replied, his voice rendered into a mere whisper. "Forever."

✮ LONG AUTHOR'S NOTE READ IT 🗣️

hi there my lovelies!! ε(｡•᎑•`)っ♡

WE MADE IT! so let me tell you all a little story. when i started writing city lights, i only intended to write four chapters. but some of you guys convinced me to make it longer and i could write 8 chapters in total!! and i'm so glad i did cause i love writing long fics (as you probably noticed)

chapter 8 got soooo long and i'm sorry for having to split it haha. i guess introducing another main character into the mix does that huh? but there was sooooo many things i left out from this one! maybe i'll write them in the future!

I WILL BE POSTING A FINAL CHAPTER TO CITY LIGHTS SOON, but i would like you to take this chapter as the wrap up for the main story, given that the next chapter will be taking a turn for the dynamic between joshua and bunny. does that make sense? 👀

okay that's it for me. i love you all, drink water, use sunscreen, take your vitamins, your birth control pills or whatever it is that you do, take care of yaselves, i love youuuuuu ◕⩊◕

toodles

part 9

buy me a coffee? 🩵👉🏻👈🏻

© RIGHTS RESERVED TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (pt.68)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Your time is running out. minute by minute, breath by breath, kiss by kiss.

Tags: Angst, Hurt (no comfort yet), illusions to past mental health issues and past domestic abuse, mentions of low-self-esteem, internalized shame and self-shaming behaviors, themes of abandonment, speeding, guns, violence,

W/c: 13.4k

A/N: ahhhhh so here we are! i've been dreaming of this chapter since the very beginning of the series! this is like...the ultimate chapter...thank you for giving me a little bit of extra time to sit with it! we've still got a bit to go! there is a little section near the end where the chapter will prompt you to click on a link to play kate bush 😂 if you feel like you'll be distracted by music in the background you don't need to push it- thats just the song that i always heard playing in my head whenever i heard that part playing.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Hobi is sitting on the edge of the nest sipping at his ice water when you come back into the nest room. Someone has drawn all of the heavy curtains over the windows and they pool on the floor at the rim of the room. The plastic pulled up too. The evidence folded and put away for later burning. Like a bad memory or a piece of clothing that doesn't fit right. Shoved in the back of the closet.

The rage and fear and panic are harder to put away. The conviction is not so easy to hide. You can’t put it down the same way that people file their taxes or their children's old scribbles.

You- like a child, have not been able to color between the lines. You- like a child, are messy.

You can’t stop yourself from walking over to him. Drawn to him where he sits nursing his injuries like a moth to a flame. You feel every heartbeat spent in his presence; every breath shared sticky like smoke in your lungs. Every second is savored and every second burns.

You want to ask him if he’s alright, but questions like that seem very pointless now.

Hobi’s not alright- but he will be. He will be okay forever if you do what you have to do. Now that you’ve decided it’s all you can think about. You rarely ever get to know that your last day with someone will be your last day, and now because you know- you look at him a little harder. A little longer.

You wonder what he’ll look like in 10 years and in 20. If he’ll get crow’s feet from smiling so much. If the salt water he loves so much will eventually grow into his features and make him look like something ancient.

You wonder if one day he'll get so many freckles that the tops of his shoulders will be permanently a shade deeper than the rest of his skin- Or if Seokjin’s sunscreen will spare him from the simple pleasure of looking like your favorite thing. Hoseok has always been one part sunshine one part everything else.

He looks pale right now. It hasn't been summer in months and you won't get to see him get all freckly and sun-kissed again.

Growing old is a privilege (you don’t want to grow old) and you’re reminded of that every time you look at his throat and see the bruises there (you wish you and Hobi could stay as you are- like this, in this house- both alive and healing- forever) but you can’t.

You can’t.

You touch his shoulder softly and his head jerks up, body going tense and then slack when he sees it's just you.

It’s quiet up here. The others are just downstairs and they’re making a lot of noise. Hoseok turns, setting his glass of water down on the floor, leaning into your hand in the same movement. It would be cute if he didn’t have black bruises crisscrossing his throat and blood in the whites of his eyes. In truth, every blink only convinces you that this is what you have to do. This is what you need to do.

You know that at any moment the pack is going to come looking for you. That they’ll all come and fill the room with their soothing noises and sweet concern. You're not too worried about finding the right time to slip away. Moonbyul’s given you 24 hours after all.

We didn’t get enough time, did we? I’d have liked more.

Hobi tries to speak and you shush him, he makes a frustrated hum of a noise. You sit down next to him when he tugs you, hand vicelike on your wrist. Your heart is beating really fast. You wonder if he can hear it or at least smell your distress. The whole house is a tangle of distressed scents; your rain, Yoongi’s ocean, Hoseok’s burnt caramel. burning burning burning. It disguises your scent. Hoseok can’t smell how you’re panicking.

You smile at him, and Hobi tries to speak again. unsuccessfully.

“Here your phone-” but Hoseok doesn’t reach for it, he doesn’t reach for anything but you. Pulling you closer to him. His thumb pressed to the pulse point of your wrist, where your skin becomes thin and sensitive. Pulling you until your thigh lines up against his.

The nest up here is the only place in the house that smells somewhat normal, still soaked with your sleepy muted scents from a few days ago (How long will it be until your scent fades from the house?) You take a deep shaky breath, trying to savor it. Hoseok bites his lower lip.

Hoseok starts on your thigh. His hand squeezes it once and then he starts to write. It’s slow going. He can only write one letter at a time but-

“D-O-N-T”

His eyes are positively boring into yours as your breath hitches and you start. “Hobi I-” he repeats it again, writing it out faster. You grab his hand squeezing it. But he pulls it out of your grasp.

“N-O”

You huff, frustrated and close to tears but stealing yourself not to show him your true feelings. How hard this is. You duck in low, kissing over one of the bruises on his neck. He jerks back, furrowing his eyebrows at you. And part of you is just begging him to let it go. You’re half sitting in his lap now all so that he can write out his distress on both your thighs.

“Alright- just stop.” You can hear the rest of the pack on the stairs. It’s getting late, they’ve done all of the cleaning they can manage for today. You can hear Yoongi on the stairway talking to Jin:

“Maybe we should just burn the railing, there’s definitely a bullet or two in it still.”

Jin’s reply is near hissed, utterly scandalized in the way that only Jin can sound. “It is mahogany Yoongi.”

Hobi writes on your thigh, a single tear trailing down his nose. He’s usually a little bit better at keeping himself together but the stress of the day wore him through. Polished all of his usually stubborn edges like the ocean polishes sea glass. He’s too tired to properly argue. Letter by letter as he goes.

“P-R-O-M-I-S-E M-E,” he writes across your thigh.

You have maybe a second before they’re upon you. You have to be convincing. Have to, or else Hobi might tell. You don’t think he’ll get in your way. You don’t want to think about what you’ll have to do if he does.

You dart forward, pressing your lips to his in a way that you don’t really feel, in a way that has him pushing you a little off of him. Trying to reassure him in the only way you know how.

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from crying and he tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear. His fingertips skimming soft across your jaw and your lips. Pressing at the corner of your sad smile like he can peel the fake expression away from your face and have you tell the truth for once.

“I promise, okay? I promise.”

Hoseok is not convinced. He doesn’t believe you all the way. But the pack is up here before he has a chance to write out anything more. Yoongi appears in the doorway, smelling of soap and bleach, a bit of it turning the corner of his shirt yellow where it should be black. His eyes cautious but so loving it takes your breath away a little. He treads softly over to the two of you; like he's worried about spooking you.

The moment between you and Hobi passes when Yoongi's hand curls over the back of your neck and you tilt your face up at him. And he interprets the glassiness there as something else. something more sensitive and more like omegaspace than what it is. you falling through space and time, you dying and drowning infront of him.

He probably thinks Hoseok was just comforting you.

Yoongi’s hand settles softly on the ball of Hoseok’s shoulder too. an equally as tender touch. Long fingers splaying against his collar bones, cradling a bruise there forming. Asking softly, eyes all dark with the anguish and apology of it-

“Do you think either of you can stomach dinner?”

As always, you say you can hot because you want to, but because you know it will make him happy to see you eat. You might not get many more opportunities to make Yoongi happy- you should take this one and savor it.

Yoongi loses that vaguely wounded look in his eyes with every bite you lift to your mouth. His scent sublimating into something sweeter as the night darkens and quiets.

You can tell Hoseok is not convinced of your promises when he stays glued to your side through the whole of dinner. Almost stubborn with how he resists Yoongi’s prodding and Namjoon's. Changing out the cool dressings on his throat and shaking his head at Namjoon’s suggestion that he sleep propped up against the back wall of the nest, where it’s safest. Eyes tracking your movements as you get up and brush your teeth.

His focus remains solely on you, even when Jungkook carries Tae out of the bathroom and places her among the softest things in the nest. When Noodle squirms his way out from under the bed and tries to worm himself in between his legs. Nudging under his elbow with his pink nose.

He wraps himself around you as you get ready for bed. An arm slung protectively around your waist to pull you flush against his front where you couldn’t squirm away without him feeling it and waking up.

It feels like buying time even though you're too distracted to properly enjoy it- the way they try to cheer you up. Everything that they do to try and make things better feels far away like a photograph- a memory just out of reach- the colors a little off.

Jungkook needily wraps himself around Tae and croons soft reassurance into her ear about how pretty her hair looks, how soft her pajamas make her. And would she like some of her skincare routine? Jungkook will do it for her, will pat it across her cheeks, and won't drag it under her eyes to preserve the state of her wrinkles.

Tae answers all his requests with a simple shake of her head. Eyes still frighteningly blank, that 1000-yard stare that you've all seen on your faces at one point or another, that you see in the reflective surface of Namjoon's phone in the nest, discarded and not charged.

Tae's scent is something awful- none of her usual roses and all cinnamon. Does Tae smell more like her old self because that version of her was always afraid? Or was being a boy the first thing she hated and that's why she smells like boy tae now?

You hate it. You can tell the others hate it too. Yoongi drags her close to scent her silly. cheek and neck going all pink from how hard he scents her, and then scents you, and then goes back again.

Jungkook can do little more than cuddle Tae with Jimin, his big hands smooth down her thighs, while Jimin brushes her hair gently- careful not to let the bristles brush her scalp. He's learned how to take care of her over the last few months and he's the gentlest when it comes to detangling. Not like you- who's so used to ripping through your hair without thought.

Up and down their hands go as Jin fluffs the nest around you all. Making the edges of it higher, and more protective of the fragile pups at the center (like fluffy duvets could ever block bullets. In his dreams- Jin’s love is enough to keep you all safe).

Yoongi and Namjoon are only too happy to oblige him with the nest-making and the general fussing. But in between Jin’s request for a hairdryer and another cold cloth for your hands. You catch them watching the door like they half expect some new threat to appear.

Certain things are harder to ignore; like Yoongi sitting on the edge of the nest with a gun balanced across his thigh. Or the heavy thud of a fresh box of bullets, rattling in their acrylic case when Jimin sets them down on the floor. The red shotgun casings lined up in pretty lines- just like Tae’s lipsticks downstairs.

You ask for one of Hobi's sweatshirts and Yoongi puts the gun away to go and give it to you. Hoseok fingers the edge of your shirt stroking over the meat of your hip idly. But every inch of him is taught like he’s going to have to grab you and hold you down. You lace your hand with his and turn to give him a look.

Yoongi’s back with a sweatshirt but it’s Jin who demands to dress you- to guide your fragile and freshly wrapped hands through the holes. Jin pulls it down around your hips with a soft huff before he gets distracted looking at the bruises on your back and side. From getting thrown back into the wall and from an errant elbow. Every time you twist even a little bit- they ache.

A tub of soothing cream that the pack usually uses for the more wanted kind of bruises sits open on the edge of the nest.

The pack moves about in pairs, here and there. Going down to the ground floor in sets of two. Unwilling to let anyone out of sight. There are guns everywhere, Jimin must have let loose his hidden stash of them. A shotgun leans up against the bathroom door. A handgun with an extended stock is always close at hand. There's a larger plan lingering here. You hear it in Jin's soft reassurances. Said hushed over your heads.

"Witness protection isn't as bad as you think it is Yoongi-"

"It won't work- don't you think we know how it works? That won't be safe enough."

"We have at least a few hours, we don't need to make any decisions now."

Jungkook’s scared voice, “Are we really going to have the leave? The house and everything?” A pause. A look is shared between Jin, Namjoon, and Yoongi. Jimin's eyes remain focused on Tae.

“Maybe bunny, we have to wait and see.”

“Do we have a carrying case for Noodle?”

“I think it’s in…” Yoongi trails off, but Namjoon answers for him.

“Yeah, it’s in the basement.”

They set about keeping watch for the night. those of you that aren't nursing wounds that is- mainly Jimin, Yoongi, and Namjoon- Guns remain at the ready and loaded. Jimin will go first, Yoongi second, and Namjoon last.

Jin tries but Namjoon nudges at his chest and growls in a way that has all of your ears perking up. The pack alpha’s commands can’t easily be ignored. Jungkook tries too to convince them too but even Hoseok shakes his head at him. No one is under any illusions of how fragile this peace is.

No one asks Namjoon to leave the Christmas lights on- but he doesn’t shut them off all the way- leaving just one string lit as a bit of a nightlight. None of you are quite brave enough to risk the darkness.

Hoseok stays close by, his hand clutching your wrist more often than not. Even when the pack settles in for sleep. He wraps his arm around your waist and settles in behind you, caging you in.

(Hoseok’s arms are not the prettiest cage you’ve ever been in but they are the cage you’ve liked the most. You think you’ll miss his arms and his hands. They’re so pretty and long, you lean down and kiss one where it’s gripping the nest and he makes a small noise in surprise that quickly gets swallowed by the hungry quiet.)

The quiet is very hungry, every brush of fabric against skin, every slight movement of the pack sets you a bit on edge. You think it will be hard to sleep- wound up as you are.

You don’t think you're even tired until your head hits the pillow and you have to struggle to stay awake. You want to stay up and listen to the sound of your pack, their soft and measured breathing, the sound of kisses shared above your head, the feel and safety of being in the nest. You want to commit the rhythm of them to memory.

Hoseok’s soft rasping breath on the nape of your neck evens out the more that his swelling goes down. It goes from hissing to more of a squeak as the night settles. Tae shakes through her aforementioned panic attack with all of you piled around her. You get your hand on her ankle at least.

Yoongi and Jimin’s shushing is the only punctuating sound in the half-light. Because what can you say besides sweet nothings when you know she has a perfectly valid reason to fear falling asleep?

You savor every little twitch of their trauma-worn bodies as you flit in and out of an uneasy sleep. Every slight sigh and hand on you rousing you. Jungkook, brushing his fingers through your hair. Hobi, pressed along your back like a second skin shifting and trying to tilt his neck to a more comfortable angle.

You get too hot with Hobi wrapped around you like that, eventually tugging at his sweatshirt that you wear and almost purring when kind gentle hands help detangle you from it with a soothing little shush sound so that you hardly have to wake. Yoongi, around midnight.

Yoongi’s thin but strong fingers rub a soothing touch along your jaw. Soothing away a small sad noise you make that has him curling around your front. The sound of Namjoon's low voice as he says something to your mate and then takes his place at the helm of the nest to stand guard.

“It’s okay pup, I’m here- I’m not going to let anything happen to you- not now- not ever.”

It’s unfortunate, but Namjoon can’t let Tae sleep for more than half an hour before checking her pupillary responses, making sure that her brain isn’t swelling. Concussions are no joke and Namjoon does not take chances with his prettiest alpha. He sends her back off to dreamland with a comforting scent mark and a soothing grumble. After the 5th hour when the risks turn nominal, he decides to just let her sleep.

But Hoseok doesn’t sleep, he can’t really. The pain keeps him awake and what with the way that his neck is injured he can’t find a comfortable position. He shifts and settles the whole night. Keeping you close with that arm around your waist every time you squirm so much as an inch away.

He’s restless until Namjoon gets up to get one of Jimin’s painkillers.

He’s resistant even then, half asleep still fighting. Trying to move away and shaking his head at Namjoon. Namjoon mistakes his unwillingness for simple fussiness and not for fear. If Hobi falls asleep it will be substantially easier to slip away- you watch from below as Namjoon props hobi up and pinches his jaw to make him open his mouth, encouraging the alpha to show his tongue with a prod of those gentle hands. His eyes are barely open, exhausted as he is.

“I know it hurts to swallow Hobi but you’ve got too.” Regardless of his shaken head, Namjoon insistently nudges his mouth with it. Soothing his gag with a stroke of his thumb down Hoseok’s Addams apple. A kiss to his lips for being good.

“This will help the swelling go down, you’ll be okay by morning.”

It’s minutes before they take effect. Slowly- Hoseok’s arm melts away from your stomach. His grip on you slackens from the drugs and his breath evens out. You say a quiet goodbye to him in your head and turn around to face him and kiss his forehead.

At least the last time you touch, it’s soft like that. At least the last time you touch him- it’s gentle.

Yoongi, Jimin, and Namjoon trade-off. A gun shared between the two of them. Perched on the edge of the nest. Eyes on the vacant stairway Infront of them. Listening for every creek and whisper met with a held breath and hand tightening around the gun. Waiting for the violence that you can all feel coming.

You won’t let it hit them; you won’t let it into this house again. Not while you’re still breathing.

When you're sure that Hobi is asleep you roll onto your back and stare up at the Christmas lights twinkling in the dark. You remember watching Jungkook hang them for you. You remember. You'll always try to remember; you promise yourself right then and there that you'll never let the memory slip away. No matter what happens.

You look over at Kookie, face so peaceful in sleep, a pillow hugged to his chest belly down in the nest, cheek squished close to the top of Yoongi's head on your other side. His back rising and falling.

Jungkook has always been a pretty omega. You reach over to him to stroke down the stiff bridge of his nose, to commit his face to memory. When you turn back to Hobi, you do the same, touching across the heart shape of his mouth, the subtle roundness in his cheeks everything. You look around at all of them- your pack, sleeping softly- sleeping safely. Namjoon's wide back, his shoulders that could hold the world up. Unaware that you're watching him.

You’ll remember all of it, every car ride, every trip to the beach. Every joke and jab. You’ll store each of the memories like a found thing in your pocket. A piece of seashell or sea glass.

You’ll take Jungkook’s laughter and store it- a memory to use when you need to remember that it’s okay to be young for a minute more. When you need to look after yourself you’ll remember how Jin did it and follow his example. And when you need to rest and be soft you'll remember yoongi. You’ll remember Tae like a tube of lipstick and see her every day in the color pink. And Jimin-

Jimin has a hard time sleeping. Even when Namjoon takes the last shift. He sleeps with one hand on a gun, spaced protectively in front of Tae. His bad arm unfolded from his sling. Putting his body between her and the staircase. Namjoon’s heart pulses dully with the knowledge of that when he glances back, just to check and make sure that Tae and Hobi are still breathing. You hide your open eyes from him when he turns, going extra still and feigning sleep.

Namjoon tamps down on his instincts; the last thing he wants is for his scent to go sour and possibly rouse them. But in the quiet, Namjoon's mind has too much room to fan out and overanalyze. Panic is a particularly alluring drug, his mind festers in it. Rolling around in bad ideas the way that Noodle would roll around in a puddle of catnip.

If he got the pack together, put you all in cars, and drove you far far away from here would that be enough to keep you all safe from harm? Or would that only be temporary? Is temporary safety worse when you know what you have to come back to? Or should he just try to talk to these people, barter with them something. Would money be enough? How much wouldn't Namjoon give? 

You are dreadfully similar to him. Only his planning stays in its infancy stage. 

It isn’t all silent. Noises punctuate the night here and there. Namjoon is so on edge that he all but snaps his teeth at the shadows. An alpha on alert.

Namjoon’s ears perk up at every car that dares to drive by your narrow street, the neighbor two houses to the left who leaves for work in the city at 4:05 every morning, right on time. Noodle and the sound of his scrabbly little paws on the stairs, zooming up and down them until Namjoon gets up to scruff him too. 

Your freaking cat does not like Namjoon on a normal day, he's only ever loved you and Hobi and tolerated Tae and Jungkook- condemning all the rest to hisses and claws, but Noodle settles with Namjoon's hand on the back of his neck. "See, that wasn't too hard was it?"

Noodle gives one last half-hearted hiss as Namjoon places him gently in the nest where he stays put after curled up around Tae’s head like a fluffy little hat. Purring and licking at her forehead. All but taunting Namjoon with his yellow eyes. Flinty and knowing in the darkness. Bushy tail flailing every time the alpha glances back.

You think you’re being quiet when you push yourself up onto your hands and knees. Untangling Hobi’s arm from around your waist and pulling yourself to the edge of the bed. He's out cold from the painkillers. Barely even stirring. 

Noodle stirs however, darting from the nest with a small murr sound as if to say, "see- she's awake so why can't I be?" Tail raised high as he prances to the doorway. 

You look striking in the half darkness, a pair of Yoongi’s green flannel pajama pants rolled up several times to fit properly around your hips. A thin white tank top that's almost falling down one shoulder. Namjoon’s heart pulses dully with the need to hold, the need to protect. He makes a soft noise in his throat and your head jerks in his direction.

You swallow, and your lips look dry, eyes glassy and innocent in their tilt when your mussed hair fluffs over your shoulder. Messy from where Hobi was nuzzling it in his sleep. 

“I was just getting a glass of water.”

Namjoon wordlessly holds his hand out to help you get out of the nest without teetering or disturbing the others. Noodle dashes back down the stairs with a soft meow. Tae sighs and re-settles, smacking her lips and Jimin’s arm tightens. Your mate turns face up in the nest, chest rising and falling, mouth opening like he can taste your scent on the air. 

Namjoon doesn't doubt he can, honed in on you and focused as he always is.

Namjoon doesn’t let go of your hand when your feet find the smooth floor. Instead, he checks the wounds on your hands and verifies that they’re clotting. The margins slotted together properly for minimal scarring (he'd redone the glue-suture after your shower with only gentle scolding). He presses a kiss to the bandages after they're re-fastened. Letting his lips linger there for a second.

Namjoon has always had big hands, warm and steadying as they cradle yours. Small and chapped and scarred.

Instead of continuing on downstairs, you linger for a second by Namjoon’s side. Eating up every breath he breathes, his scent, and the comfort of having him nearby. Something you know you won’t have forever. (Somehow- you know that this will be the last time that Namjoon holds you. You can wait one minute more. You can give him one more minute). He sets the gun to the side and pulls you between his legs.

“Joonie?” You ask.

Your pack alpha wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles forward, rubbing his spiky head across your midriff. Nose nudging the dimple of your belly button and the slight pudge there with a quiet happy growl.

Namjoon will never not be happy that he can see the evidence of the pack’s love on you. Will never not feel proud of you and how far you've come. He nuzzles, resisting the temptation to bite and nip with a breath let out through clenched teeth.

Namjoon feels your quiet laugh against his cheek. Your warm soft skin swelling with laughter. Namjoon’s face is blushing red when he pulls back to look at you in the darkness. Corralled in the safe circle of his arms, fingers digging into your hips and squeezing.

“What are you doing alpha?” 

“Just thinking- just-” Namjoon’s voice gets so much lower in the nighttime, it's a gravely growl. A sound that paints pictures of lightning and clouds hovering low like a blanket.

“When all of this is over, I want to go somewhere new.” Namjoon's hands tighten on your waist. fingers pressing to either side of your spine, thumbs sitting on the soft bones of your hips. “-With you. Just you. Just the two of us. Maybe.” Namjoon fights back a fresh blush at the confused cock of your head. “Maybe- like- a fancy Airbnb? Or something? Would that be fun? Would you like that?” 

You pause, humming. Indulging Namjoon in this as he holds you, fingers rubbing endlessly up and down the sensitive small of your back. Eyes wide and imploring like a child. 

You're only too happy to forget for a second and imagine. What would happen if you didn’t leave tonight? What would happen if you found some way out of this?

It’s easy to go further than just thinking about a simple weekend getaway. You Imagine far into the future; a day that you'll never see. A future with Namjoon and the pack. It hits you with such a profound heartache when you think it that you half expect to look down and see your white tank top speckled with blood. The ache so keen and visceral but- 

Namjoon would be a good father. 

He’d be kind and patient. He’d never snap. He’d never yell. For a moment that’s all you want to think about- not a stupid weekend but a lifetime. A family. A world where you’re never yelled at, where you don't have to be afraid, where nothing is hard, and even if it’s hard you do it together.

If you had pups, you know Namjoon would treat every skinned knee like it was surgery. Would never tell them to walk it off or say it wasn’t that bad. You know that he’d go through every tea party with gusto and stay up late to help them with their homework. That he’d struggle to say no but that you might never need to. It would be lovely- getting to give something small and innocent so much safety. It would be nice to have pups with Namjoon.

You can’t say you don’t want it, but you know in that moment that you won't get it. You'll never get to see Namjoon be a father- even if the pups aren't yours or are just his and Jin's. You’d love them all the same. What use is it to Imagine things that you’ll never get? What good are dreams like this but to tease you, just out of reach. 

Namjoon nuzzles into your stomach again. His nose drawing soft circles just under your belly button. 

You’d be a shit mother anyway. Too fragile. Too nervous. Too hurt. Too much of everything. You'd fuck them up just by being you. You'd fuck them up the same way you've fucked up this perfectly good pack. You've brought nothing but destruction upon them. The evidence of your wreckage is everywhere. The bullets in the ceiling, the blown apart door. Your hands and Hobi's throat. All of this is because of you. 

You snap back to the present, swallowing down the lump in your throat. You’re gnawing at your own leg to survive. All things that bite cannot resist it. What good does hope do at the end other than to hurt?

You can't resist asking Namjoon for more, curled around you like a protective barrier to keep out all the world's hurts (or to keep you in). 

“If we went? Where would we go? If we made it- What would it be like Joonie?”

Namjoon rests his chin on your belly button and looks up at you. Completely unaware of the longing tearing its way through you, of what you’re thinking about. Not just one trip or one year, but ten or twenty or thirty. 

“Maybe south, to see the cherry blossoms?”

“We couldn’t go, not without Tae- cuz of the pink, and Hobi- cuz of the flowers”

Namjoon nods, agreeing. “Yeah- she does really like anything that’s pink.” There is a Tae-shaped smile on his face, you can feel it stretching your lips too. But he shakes it off, head bowed before you. Eyes closed against the image. 

“Still, somewhere safe and quiet just for us, just for you and I to take a deep breath and-” Namjoon trails off, looking up at you. His eyes sparkle with the idea of it, all the little moments he’s picturing.

A private morning where he wakes up to just you. Where you hog his warm spot and his pillow in the chilly spring air. Your cold toes pressed to his shins with nothing to do but appreciate each other and take your loving slow and intentional. Your body and his body and all the space and laughter that you want in between. An idyllic picture of two young people quietly in love. Gently in it.

After almost losing all of it, he wants the chance to properly appreciate you one-on-one. The others too- but they’re asleep, and sleeping vessels cannot reply to Namjoon’s daydreams. You are the only one awake.

(In Namjoon's fantasy, he'll give each of his packmates a different trip. every one of them even if it's just the ones he's recently almost lost that have him thinking of these particular plans.

Hobi would want just a day trip. Namjoon knows the alpha doesn’t really like to be separated from the pack for all that long, a few hours sure. Maybe to some vintage stores that he’s been eyeing to the city or the botanical garden.

Seokjin he’d take somewhere grand and big and full of adventure, maybe to 6 Flags or something. Jin likes to be reminded that he’s allowed to be a kid again, that he doesn’t always have to look after everyone all the time. That he has Namjoon to lean on.

Tae, he’d take somewhere gilded just as she is, like teatime at the Ritz- or maybe abroad to the castle of Versailles. The hall of mirrors and a million pictures of Tae in pretty dresses, twirling. In Namjoon’s head- he watches her turn and flutter slowly like a top. Spinning and spinning).

But none of that is quite your style. You don't really crave outings or adrenaline or gilded things. Your wants are much more simple maybe- because you've always known how priceless quiet and peace is. Gentleness is all you've ever really wanted- not excitement or acclaim or ego.

“A little cabin somewhere in the mountains, a spot for just us. We wouldn’t even have to do anything, A staycation. A night or two.” As the world spins on, you are who Namjoon craves to be still with.

You swallow hard, lingering, still half leaning over him still. Letting him nose at your jaw and purr.

“That would be so nice Joonie."

You swallow, throat thick with something. You lean forward pressing a kiss- too brief, to his lips, Namjoon’s lips part and he breathes gently. You blink back the glassiness in your eye and hope that Namjoon dismisses it as the light from the moon streaming through one of the skylights. All white and black. Wrenching you through something that feels like film. You commit the feel of him and the sound of his voice to memory and then pull back.

“I really need to get a glass of water.”

Namjoon shifts to get up, to come with you, but you just laugh at him and push at his shoulder, he flops back onto the bed.

“I can go on my own Joonie.” He grumbles but stays put. Nosing at the goosebumps on your arms and leaning to retrieve Hobi’s sweatshirt from where you left it in the nest. It smells like sleeping pups and Jin. Milky and soft and safe. Namjoon’s body shivers happily when he sees you put it on.

You squirm out from between his legs. His palm stays wrapped around the tips of your fingers. They slide out of his a little, and then all the way.

“It’s not safe.” You heave a tired sigh, what he thinks is a tired sigh but is actually you trying your hardest not to cry. You lean over him to grab the gun from where it’s rested against the nesting barrier. Getting your phone while you’re at it and sliding it into the pocket of your sweatshirt.

“Is that better?” Namjoon grumbles but still lets you go. Sitting there on the edge of your nest and guarding the others. You look back at him from the top of the stairs and smile.

The house is quiet, with no creeks on the stairs and no winds blowing across the roof. No sound at all in the house beyond your quiet footsteps that Namjoon listens to as you go down the stairs.

Feeling every second of your distance like the sluggish beat of his heart, thump thump thump. Namjoon looks back to look at his pack. Their bodies curled and resting, so gentle in sleep. After a few minutes, there are footsteps on the stairs, small soft ones.

Thump.

“They’re so beautiful” Namjoon comments to you. Waiting for reply.

The silence gnashes its teeth, still hungry.

When Namjoon turns back, it’s not you standing at the top of the stairs- just Noodle with his tail raised high. His yellow eyes glow almost florescent in the darkness, meowing and hissing so loud it might wake the others.

“Noodle, quiet.” The cat just doesn’t quit, batting at Namjoon’s ankles, claws and all. “Noodle- hush.” He scoops up the fussy cat, but Namjoon’s only reward is some claws to his forearms and some more squirming.

Downstairs, he hears a sound that makes him pause. Instincts going from at peace to on edge.

Thump

The front door opens and closes softly with a soft click of the metal doorknob.

Thump

Namjoon goes to the top of the stairs, holding Noodle in his arms before the cat squirms and falls to the floor with a thud. “Pup?” he calls, hushed. You don’t respond. Only silence greets him, sated at last.

Thump, breath, thud.

Namjoon waits a moment, listening for a response that doesn't come before he goes down the stairs, Noodle nearly trips him on the way down, hissing and pacing back and forth in front of the door. The ground floor of the house is completely absent of you- absent of anyone friend or foe. The room is soaked in the blue darkness of morning that is not quite dawn. The white countertops are unassuming and the plates stay in their places.

Thud.

The couch still has its dark spot from where Jin cleaned it. The tangerines are safely in the bowl back on the counter shining like several small suns or planets. Everything is empty empty empty.

Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud

Namjoon checks the shoe rack. Your sneakers are missing, the same ones that match Hobi's and usually sit side by side with his. The spot where they should be empty.

Thud

Your wallet is missing from the bowl just inside the door.

Thud

Namjoon looks out onto the street and finds it empty.

Thud thud thud

Namjoon does not panic, Namjoon does not head out onto the street and chase you down- maybe he should have. He should have done any number of things. The sun is just barely rising turning the sky into that honey blue-green color and Namjoon just stands there and stares.

Namjoon is frozen. What kind of alpha is he- why kind of alpha freezes instead of fights or flights?

Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud

A few minutes pass and something must tip off the packmates upstairs- either the empty nest or the sound of Noodle yowling and quite literally trying to bite Yoongi's ear off.

The next thing Namjoon is aware of is Yoongi is on the stairs, looking pissed off, looking terrified. almost falling down them with the speed at which he descends.

He takes the stairs down two at a time, colliding with Namjoon at the bottom of them. He looks like a puffed-up cat, hair wild and eyes equally as glaring as Noodles when he shakes Namjoon, just a little. “Where is she? Namjoon? Where did she go? Where is my mate!?"

Is it Yoongi's scent- acrid and angry- that knocks him out of his stupor? Or is it the top of his ruffled head almost colliding with the bottom of Namjoon’s jaw when the beta shakes him again.

Namjoon stutters, panic making him inarticulate. So scared he repeats it twice. "I don't know- I don't know, I- she said she was just getting a glass of water. I swear-"

Yoongi's fists tangle in the front of Namjoon's shirt. He sounds sick with it. Voice twisting in pitch.

"You were supposed to keep an eye on her- you weren't supposed to let her out of your fucking sight.”

There are other people on the stairs, roused by the sound of raised voices. A lone light flicked on sends everyone into yellow chiaroscuro. Namjoon is still staring at the street, heart thundering quicker than your footsteps as you run. The streetlights wink out behind you as you go. Fleeing with the night and bowing under the weight of oncoming daylight. Running as fast as your body can carry you.

Could he catch up if he started running now?

It's Jungkook, his dark hair pushed up at the side where it rested against the nest, who asks, “What happened?What’s going on?”

Tae’s eyes dart between Yoongi and Namjoon, her pink silk dressing gown wrapped tight around her shoulders. “Where’s the pup?”

"Yeah Namjoon, where the fuck is my mate??" Yoongi grits his teeth, shaking Namjoon so hard it almost knocks him off his feet and sends him careening a little into the narrow dresser table that the pack keeps by the door for gloves and mittens and keys and wallets.

“I don’t know, I don’t-"

Jungkook and Tae have just spilled out from the stairs into the entryway when Yoongi’s hands hit his shoulders, pushing and then digging into Namjoon’s skin. He’s shaking so hard he can hardly speak.

“You were supposed to be watching her. You were supposed to make sure she was safe-”

“Yoongi- hey- Stop” Tae’s not shaking anymore when gets her hands on his shoulders pulling him away from namjoon where he simmers. Jin is still asleep upstairs. Hasn’t been roused by all the tense voices. Too tired from yesterday- from staying up to scrub blood with Yoongi.

Jungkook skitters to the door as Jimin and hobi descend the steps. nearly bouncing on his heels as he opens the front door letting in a gush of cold air. “What are we waiting for? lets go."

Yoongi's face crumples. “I don’t get it, where did she go- why would she have-”

Hoseok swallows but talks softly, the swelling’s gone down enough even though the bruises look a million times worst in the sunlight streaming through the window. It’s not even 6am yet. His soft hiss is gentle, but the pack pauses to hear it.

“A deal- I think she made a deal.”

It's the first words he’s been able to speak since the attack. Vocal cords straining with every word. Everyone quiets to listen to Hobi. Jimin’s got the shotgun in his hands. He leans it up against the doorway. The heavy thunk punctuates the shocked quiet- but hobi continues.

“When the man was here- she tried to barter our lives with hers." Everyone looks to Tae. And her eyes lower to the floor.

“She did say that but I didn’t think she was serious, I just thought-”

The conversation is a flurry, everyone talking over each other as conversation explodes. Yoongi's face twists from devastated to enraged. “Jesus fucking Christ- that stupid stupid-”

Jungkook clings to Jimin's t-shirt, “What are we going to do? Hyung- what should we-”

Jimin hasn't spoken a word yet, and softly draws Jungkook's hands away from his shirt. “Where would she even have even gone?"

“Did someone pick her up?” Hobi’s words seem to ring out, even though his voice is so fragile.

Namjoon shakes his head. “No- I was listening, I didn’t hear any car in the road- not for like the whole hour.”

“So, you were listening enough to hear the street but not to stop her from literally walking away from us, great. Good to know Namjoon.”

“Yoongi that is like- the opposite of helpful.”

“There's still the matter of where would she have gone. She didn't take a car-” Hoseok looks up in Tae’s direction. She sees the realization light across his face.

“Hobi?”

But Hoseok ignores her, lurching to the small cabinet by the front door; the pack’s drop-off points for their keys, their wallets and your fuzzy little purse from your first ever date with jimin and tae as well as a good slice of Tae’s collection of little red pocketbooks. They keep their things this way because Namjoon loses his keys at least once a month a nd having a communal spot always helps the general disorder of having 8 people live in one house.

Hoseok scrambles not for your wallet but for his.

He reaches for his wallet. Opening it and searching but-

The train ticket is gone.

Your train ticket- the one that you gave Hobi for safekeeping so many months ago is missing from where he usually keeps it in the last slot. Right next to that folded poem of Tae's and an old gift card. In its place is just a simple folded note, a new piece of paper that hasn’t been worn soft at the edges yet. Torn from the same pad of paper that Jin writes the grocery list on. Hoseok’s hands shake as they fish it out. 5 words that aren’t nearly enough.

I’m sorry, I love you.

You’d never told him that- that you loved him. Not after you’d had sex and he’d confessed. Not in the tangle of moments that followed with Jimin bloody and the pack breaking. You’d never spilled your heart to him that way. In the back of his head, he realizes that there just hadn’t been time.

This is the first time you’ve told Hoseok you love him and maybe the last. Hoseok’s heart beats quick. She loves me. Thump. She loves me. Thump. She loves-

Hoseok shoots off like a bullet out the open door, thundering across the porch slats. Too fast for the rest of the sleepy pack to properly anticipate and follow. Peering out after him, a little sluggish and a lot shocked. His socks skid and slip as he tries to arrest his momentum and almost falls as He doubles back for his shoes.

The rest of the pack stares down at him blankly as he tugs them on, sprawled there on the floor just outside the door. Hands shaking too much for bunny-eared loops. He doesn’t even bother to lace them before he’s lunging for his car keys in the bowl too. Nearly knocking over the table in his haste.

“The train station- she’s going to the train station.” He gasps.

The words you shared that night ring in his head, playing on repeat. Like a record that’s been scratched too many times. He’s replayed those moments too many times. He’s not sure if he remembers it correctly.

“Give me one chance, let me try to convince you to stay and if I can’t- then I’ll let you go, and I won’t tell Yoongi what train you took.”

The countless times you’d joked with him after that, the moment so light that Hoseok didn’t notice the weight behind them.

“You still got that train ticket?”

“Of course I do.”

Hoseok never thought that you’d use it. He thought that the ticket would have stayed frayed and pretty in his wallet until you framed it or something. Until you could look back on it and laugh and say things like “remember that night? Remember how it used to be before we loved each other?”

“No, I don’t, can you remind me?”

This is not that, this is not the future that Hoseok had imagined for the two of you. This abject terror. Suddenly Hoseok is unmoored, suddenly he is falling. Usually, you can see the end from a mile away. Is it worse if you lose the person you love because of circumstance or because they decide to leave on their own? Hoseok never thought you'd actually do it.

Hoseok thought your promise last night meant something. Later when he’s not so scared he’ll remember that he’s angry about that.

The rest of the pack explodes too. Jungkook doesn’t bother to put on his shoes- just heaves Hobi up by his shoulders and pushes him towards his car. Yoongi snatches both of their pairs from the floor and joins them. Cold feet on the small pea-gravel driveway. Jimin darts forward wrenching off his arm sling regardless of Namjoon’s protests.

“I’ll drive” Jimin doesn’t have to wrestle with Hoseok’s keys for long. Even with his hands numb Jimin is still the best driver. He won’t pull corners or care about hitting curbs. He reeves it with a roaring purr while the rest get in and looks at Tae in the rearview mirror. Standing on the porch looking breakable and not all there still. Her eyes on his have that same peculiar weight, the same weight that makes Jimin’s blood sing with purpose.

If there was ever someone that Tae needed, it was you. Not Jimin. He will haul you back from the edge of hell if he needs to, for her. because this is not the ending that you and tae deserve. Jimin will tear you from hell. Teeth and sin and all.

Jungkook has barely shut the door before Jimin peals out, reversing until the tires screech against the asphalt and leave dark lines in their wake. Tire tracks, strings of fate, shoelaces. He shoots off down the street and out of sight, knocking over a trash bin with a clang and leaving Tae and Namjoon back on the porch.

Hoseok knows the name of the station you were most likely to go to but not how to get to it. It's an 15 minute walk, maybe a 10 minute run and it's already been 8 since you left. Jimin points his car in the direction of the main road while he pulls it up on his cell phone.

With every sharp turn Yoongi and Jungkook slosh in the back seat and hit into each other. Some early morning commuter honks his horn at Jimin but he doesn’t even see them. The scenery flickering by and the asphalt melting away underneath the wheels of Hoseok’s red car. The small grey towns melt away, Break lights bleeding less than they should. The engine stutters and engages but no one cares about the uneven acceleration. Hoseok would total this car in a heartbeat if it meant getting you in time.

At the straightaway Jungkook stoops to slip his feet into his shoes, Yoongi holding his shoulder. The phone in between them slides on the leather seat, spitting out its electronic voice, overly cheerful.

"Re-routing!"

“Wait Minnie- go left.”

“Fuck!” Jimin makes the turn just barely, sparks skittering and burning out as he goes over one of those tiny reflective dividers. Hoseok curses every pothole for damaging their momentum and slowing them down.

“Are you sure? Are you sure that it’s this station that she'd go to?” Hoseok’s heart is thundering in his ears, beating furious and fast.

“Almost positive.” Yoongi holds onto the back of Hoseok’s chair to keep himself in place.

“We have to get to her before she gets to the city. Can’t you go any faster?” Jimin jerks the wheel around a flashy BMW. Almost hitting them with how close he gets. Jimin lets the speedometer answer Yoongi's question. Pushing 60 in a 35 and then 70.

Your note is crumpled tight in Hoseok's fist, a tiny bit of yellow paper that he unfolds and looks at before shoving deep within the confines of his jacket.

Yoongi is not looking at hoseok when he says his next sentence. Hoseok's not even thinking about his old pack, he's just thinking about the fact that you love him and he never got to hear you say it. Not when Yoongi pulls himself almost between his and Jimin’s seat and repeats the same to Jimin again, the same only different.

Thud.

“We have to get to her before Moonbyul does, if she gets to her- I don't know what I'll be able to do Minnie- even with the power that I have Moonbyul still has more-”

Hobi’s flinch is visceral, jerking like he's shocked.

He turns around to look at Yoongi as Jimin blows through a stop sign and then a red light. Jungkook winces and doesn’t say anything. Pushing Yoongi’s shoes across the seat. “Hyung- you should get ready to run.”

Hoseok and Yoongi look at each other. Hoseok's turned almost all the way around in his seat to stare at Yoongi- more specifically Yoongi’s mouth. He’s not sure if Jimin’s painkillers would make him hallucinate but that’s the only logical reason his brain can come up with after hearing that name- her name- come out of Yoongi’s mouth.

“What?"

Jimin's voice is deathly quiet. "Hoseok- turn the fuck around. If I get into an accident at this speed you will die if you're not facing forward to the airbag."

Hoseok turns back to face the road. Jimin grips the wheel so hard his knuckles are white. “Thank you.”

The sunlight is just cresting the tops of the trees. Dotting the scenery blue and yellow. Hoseok’s ears are ringing with her name.

Yoongi pulls himself closer to Hoseok, hands still gripping the headrest, the only thing that keeps him from bobbing and moving with the movement of the car. Eyes locked on Hoseok's face in the rearview mirror.

"I said something- I said something and you're having a thought."

"I fucking hope so-" Jungkook's quip goes unnoticed. Unnoticed through the volley of honking horns as the red car tares through the street. By some miracle, they haven’t passed a cop car yet.

Hoseok looks in the rearview mirror, at Yoongi’s face. Biting his lower lip. “It’s nothing just that name.”

Hoseok looks at Yoongi and all he can think about is how he'd never said- he'd never told Yoongi their names. Saying them or even thinking them reminds Hoseok too much of his own begging. What kind of alpha begs for an omega to hurt them- to stay?

Yoongi just about puts himself in the front seat of the car as Jimin breaks hard to navigate around a tractor-trailer. Riding on the shoulder, the rumble strips vibrating all of them hard and roaring just like Hoseok’s blood thundering through his ears.

“Moonbyul? Moon Byul-yi? You know it?”

Hoseok shivers, the reaction of his body route, unavoidable. Jarring. Trauma builds itself into your bones whether you like it or not. Triggers are not so much a part of you as they are a light switch that makes the worst parts of you turn on.

"Yeah- I do. It’s the name of my ex-pack omega.” Now it’s Jimin’s turn to be distracted, and he almost gets into an accident for his troubles. They’re silent for a second, Yoongi and Jimin look at each other.

“It could be the same name.”

Yoongi scrambles for his phone on the seat right as Jimin makes a turn and it goes flying. He finds it underneath Hoseok’s seat, hands slippery with sweat on it.

“Hang on, I think I have a picture of her somewhere.”

Yoongi scrolls all the way to the back in his phone. Switches to Instagram, going back and back and back through time, and then he's sticking it in Hoseok's face.

Seeing her face feels like Yoongi’s slapped him. Her face is on Yoongi's phone. Why is her face on Yoongi’s phone? Her hair is longer than it was when they dated, she must not have cut it since. But it's definitely her.

Hoseok feels like he's spinning, it's been so long since he's seen her face but it's definitely the one from his nightmares, the one he sees grinning and crooning false praises that have stuck to Hoseok's soul like glue. The face that he sees behind his eyes and sees in every criticizing comment only on his bad days. She's standing shoulder to shoulder with Yoongi, both of them in black suits along with a man that looks enough like Yoongi for him to guess that that's his brother, your ex-husband.

Your abuser and his and Yoongi in between them. Hoseok can only hear ringing in his ears, he knows he sounds accusatory when he snaps. "How the fuck do you know my ex-pack omega?"

“She’s my cousin. Are you sure that's her?”

Hoseok feels like he’s spinning. “Yeah, I'm sure.”

“I thought you said your old pack was all omega’s?” Yoongi knows Hoseok’s lore, knows it like he knows the back of his hand. He looks up, hair falling across his face. Hoseok frowns jabbing his finger at the phone.

“I did. She’s an omega.”

The dissonance hits him and Yoongi almost wants to disagree but then-

Hoseok watches the lightbulb go off, Yoongi’s eyes widening imperceptibly as he paws at the phone and Hoseok’s hand. The car sickness lurches in his stomach as he turns to look back at Yoongi, and the g force hits him as Jimin takes another turn Impossibly fast. The seatbelt across Hobi’s chest engages with a click, digging into his skin and the bruises on his neck with a painful jerk.

“Are you sure? Hoseok- you have to be sure.”

“I’m sure.”

This is all a game of leverage. A game of who knows what secret and what gets exchanged for whom. Yoongi spent most of last night wondering about Moonbyul's motivation, and now he knows why.

Hoseok is holding onto Yoongi’s phone, they’re hands gripping it together. “Is this who she’s going too? The one who tried to kill us? Is-” Hoseok has to swallow to get the words out right. “Is Moonbyul the one trying to take her?”

“Yes.”

Hoseok shivers, eyes darkening, scent spiraling wildly. His muscles trembling as he thinks about it. You and Moonbyul.

Yoongi pulls himself around Jimin’s headrest. Hand on his throat, digging into his scent gland. He doesn't have time to explain to them.

Only alphas can lead the family, only alphas can rule. If Moonbyul isn't one- that calls into question the legitimacy of her rule. The families would never stand to see an omega on the throne, she'd be ousted, probably killed for daring to lie. The families would tear her apart piece by piece and Yoongi would let them.

If Moonbyul is the person who hurt Hobi- and now she's going after you- that's two people that Yoongi loves that she's directly hurt. Yoongi is thinking all sorts of dangerous things. But they have to get to you first.

If Moonbyul isn't an alpha then Yoongi's just found his leverage and maybe the whole reason why the pack was targeted in the first place.

A packmate for a secret. Yoongi imagines the worst-case scenario; Don't tell and I won't hurt her. Don’t tell anyone and she lives.

How long had she stewed and festered- knowing that Hoseok was out there- knowing that he knew the secret that could lead to her undoing. Maybe she thought his knowing would never come back to bite her, and had intended on tying up the loose end later. Maybe she didn't know Hoseok had found his way into Yoongi's arms until after the old Don and Beta had died. She probably thought that they’d never put it together- at least not until it was too late.

Whatever her reasons, this has gone on long enough.

Yoongi opens his mouth, but Hoseok’s body is taught like a spring-loaded and ready to burst. His voice a near growl.

“Jimin, I need you to drive.”

~-~

Tae and Namjoon are left standing there on the porch. Namjoon left staring after them as they hurl away from the house. Running his hands through his hair hard. Thinking of what to do until-

Tae tugs on his sleeve, “Your phone- Joonie- you should call her.”

“Right- fuck-” Namjoon goes and gets it, and comes back to stand with Tae on the porch. “Come on- come on pick up.” Namjoon paces back and forth on the front porch, the snowmelt from the roof drips out an uneven rhythm onto the railing. the cold spray hitting his stress-warm skin.

Tae stands by the door. Frozen, a statue of Namjoon’s distress. Inside, Namjoon hears a voice. Jin coming down the stairs, probably roused by the sound of the car screeching out of the driveway and down the road.

“Tae? Where is everybody?”

“Pup’s being stupid. The others left to go get her before she’s like- really really stupid.”

Jin freezes in the doorway, fist rubbing his eye. He sounds smaller and younger than Namjoon’s ever heard him. “Am I having a bad dream?” namjoon's pacing stutters and then starts up again. Jin doesn't need him right now, Jin he can help later.

Tae takes Jin's hand and leads him to the outdoor furniture. The cushions have to be damp but they sit anyway. Tae pulls her knees under her and rests her cheek on Jin's shoulder. “That’s what I thought too at first.”

Namjoon almost sobs when he hears it- the click of the dial tone and a single breath. He can hear the thud of the train in the background, the hiss of pressure against the scratchy speaker.

“Pup? oh thank god, stay where you are- the others are-”

“Namjoon? Joonie stop- I didn’t pick up so that you could convince me to come back. I only picked up because I never said goodbye.”

Namjoon freezes, and he feels like the snowmelt from the roof has just dripped down his back. Growing frigid more with each word. If there was ever a question on if you’d gone willingly or been taken- it was answered with that.

“Pup, come home right now or I swear to god-”

“No! For once you’re going to listen!” You’ve only shouted at him a handful of times and he’s hardly ever heard you sound so serious.

"No- you can't-"

“Namjoon, The second you say anything to try and convince me to stay is the moment I hang up, so what is it gonna be?”

Namjoon goes silent and stops his pacing. Holding the phone so hard it feels like the plastic and metal might break.

Namjoon’s very being hinges on every syllable you say, Like the ocean hinges on the moon. Water tethered and kept from the shore by something as simple as gravity. Tae is right there. Tae is watching the driveway not saying anything with that same blank look Namjoon has seen on your face countless times.

All at once Namjoon is reminded of you in the summertime back when he first met you and trauma had you all quiet. Staring off into space in much the same way. Small and fragile and worth saving. You’ve always been that for him; worth saving.

Jin scrubs a hand across his face, clearing himself of the last little bits of sleep. He holds out his hand for the phone, but Namjoon doesn’t give it to him just paces right by him as he listens to you.

“I only picked up the phone because I have some things that I want to say to you.”

You sound more settled and less angry but just as resigned and convicted of what you're doing. Like no part of you doubts your choices. Namjoon wishes you sounded angry, that you sounded sad, but you don’t sound like any of those things.

“I'm not leaving because I think I don't deserve a life with you and the pack. I’m not leaving because I think that I’m not worth your love. I’m leaving because for the first time I know that I am.

“For the first time I understand why Yoongi left and why he didn’t come back until he knew it would be safe. Because when you love something the way that I love you, you’ll do anything to protect them. Can you really blame me Joonie? For doing what you might have done?”

You continue on like you’re not wrenching Namjoon’s heart clean from his chest. Like you’re not a hurricane on his very being- dark and thunderous tearing through him as impersonal as wind. Namjoon’s heart thuds and thuds and thuds.

“Before I leave you, I want you to know that if I loved you less- I might have stayed.”

Namjoon’s lungs ache, ache and sting and swell with words he can’t say, he can’t breathe. His mouth screwed into a soundless sob. He actually might be having a panic attack. He's never had one before- he's not sure if he knows what one feels like. If it's like this- if it's like this he can understand why people call them an attack.

It's frantic, like he's chewing off his own leg to get out of your words. The panic is so terrible. Namjoon hasn't been this scared since he was a child. At least Yoongi had the fucking decency not to make his leaving so visceral.

Namjoon is bent over, tears dripping down his nose, sagging almost to his knees. “Why are you doing this to us!? To me!”

Something jiggles the phone, something that makes your voice all warbly- Namjoon imagines you on the train in a window seat. Resting your cheek against the balmy glass while you talk to him. Staring out at the scenery racing by. Hurtling towards your future like a comet or maybe an asteroid (something more destructive- more appropriate for the wretchedness filling Namjoon’s lungs like tar, the desiccated bodies of the dreams he had for you and the plans he made with you in mind clogging his lungs and making it hard to breathe).

Who knows, maybe off between the trees and the road, you see a red car zooming, trying to keep pace with the train.

Namjoon’s heart feels like it’s skipping too many beats.

“Something Jin told me the other day got stuck in my head and I keep thinking about it, would you like to hear it?”

You take his silence for permission and Namjoon does not turn to look at Jin and Tae sitting on the outdoor furniture. They just sit there; they don't do anything. Namjoon wishes there was something they could do or something he could barter for your safe return but you already have all of him and all of him wasn't enough to make you stay.

“Jin showed me this little article the other day- a few weeks ago now. He can tell you it in more detail but basically, it was about these mice.”

Namjoon struggles to say something- unsure where you’re going with this but desperate to keep you on the line. At least until the others get to you. Drinking down your voice, the whisper of your breath, everything.

“They made like- two test groups, they wanted to measure like- willpower- or how long they would try to live before they gave up. It’s kinda dark I guess. I'm not a good judge of things like that you know.”

Your laugh is the prettiest and saddest thing that Namjoon’s ever heard. He wants to record it and save it for later like some hidden track and he never wants to hear it again.

“Anyways- they put the mice and a bucket of water and timed how long it took for them to stop swimming, to stop trying to live. They’d try for a little while but give up pretty quickly. Like- an hour. That’s how much will to live that they had: an hour’s worth of it.”

Namjoon breaks, shouting, “I don’t want to talk about mice I want to talk about getting you the fuck home!”

Namjoon can hear your smile in your voice, And no-no-no you won’t even let him fight- you won’t even let him snap at you and engage with it. Namjoon’s seen you sad, he’s seen you defeated. He’s seen you so hungry you could hardly hold your head up. But seeing you convicted of this punishment is worse than anything.

“Anyway- they just killed the first group for a baseline. But with the second group just before they died- just before they went underwater- They took them out of the water and dried them off.”

Your voice goes hushed at the end. The morning sunlight cuts across the top of the house yellow. The tree too- it’s early morning- Namjoon’s favorite time of day and he won’t be ever able to properly enjoy it again. Won’t ever be able to wake up at this time of day and not think about the morning you left.

“They let them rest and gave them some food.”

Namjoon feels like he’s about to have a heart attack, blood thumping and hitting against his ribcage. Bullying out the flowers and the butterflies in his stomach.

“Cuddled them a little.”

Namjoon stands at the doorway to the pack den. Hands so tight in their fists that they ache and ache. Namjoon’s hands have saved countless people’s lives before, and they’ve saved yours too- but right now they just hurt.

“And when they put them back in,”

Noodle meows dolefully from the door, swatting at Jin’s ankles and then purring around Tae’s. Namjoon’s knees are shaking.

“They lasted for a whole 12 hours longer. Because they thought they might be saved. Because they had some love to remember. They were able to last for a lot longer than they would have otherwise.”

His face is screwed something terrible with how hard he’s sobbing. How is it that just an hour ago you were safe in his arms, talking about getting away from here. Just an hour ago. It's still 5am a time zone away, if Namjoon got on a plane and flew there- would you still be safe? Is there any way to turn back time?

You only get to love people for as long as you get and not a second more. You get what you get and you don't get upset. Yoongi might have been your lifeblood, the air in your lungs and your reason for existing, but you’d still be that fragile creature close to drowning if it wasn’t for Namjoon.

“Namjoon?” You say his name once and then softer, a croon. “Joonie.”

He's sobbing too hard to see, “Don’t-”

“Thank you for drying me off.”

The phone clicks and disconnects.

Namjoon falls to the stairs, ass in a puddle but none of him cares. He remembers the first day he heard you speak, sitting on these stairs while he helped Yoongi fix the railing. Namjoon remembers the summer heat and feeling scared for you for the first time- because the railing felt so rickety and the last thing he wanted was for you or Jungkook or Hobi to fall. Namjoon is the one who is falling, hurtling towards destruction that stops and ends with his heart.

His hands hurt. He remembers laughing with the others and stealing sips of sweet tea. Nibbling on the sour lemons, sweaty and hot and dusty. His eyes feel like they’re going to fall out of his head with how hard he’s crying. He remembers that you’d poked his dimples and called them pretty, he remembers feeling tired after but fulfilled for it.

One scene in summer and the other in winter now. At the beginning of a relationship and now at the end. The stairs still creek, the wind still blows and Namjoon's hands are still sweaty.

Namjoon sobs loudly and it echos across the empty cul-de-sac gut-wrenching. People cry differently when they lose people they love. Namjoon has heard people cry like this after he’s told them bad news, no sign of brain activity. We did everything that we could. I'm so sorry. It sounds different now that it’s coming out of his own mouth.

He actually might pass out with how hard he’s breathing. Teeth dig into his lower lip so hard he tastes blood. He’s still holding the phone to his ear. “Pup- wait- I love you- you can’t do this to us- to me.” But you’ve already hung up on him.

The dial tone tears through him like a bullet. Namjoon should be bleeding, broken hearts don't hurt this much without blood. People don’t hurt this much without actual wounds.

Eventually, something touches his back, a soft furry creature that only makes Namjoon sob harder as Noodle bullies his way under Namjoon’s arm and licks at his fingertips. Before long there’s hands on him. Jin and Tae pull him up and onto the furniture. One hand in his hair and the other on his shoulder. Jin grabs his wrist. Circling it gently before he holds his hands and nudges them until they relax from their clenched fists.

Namjoon cries.

Together they watch the road and wait for the others to return.

~-~

(Hidden playlist ▶ Play track?)

“Shit!”

They miss the first train by just a few seconds. It screeches away from the platform when Jungkook gets out of the car. Standing there for a breath and watching it pull away. The metal thud screech of it drowns out Yoongi’s voice.

Jimin hits the wheel and growls before he revs the engine and turns, almost hitting a fire hydrant with how quick and jerky he backs up and accelerates. Leaning forward through the window to snap at Jungkook.

“Get back in the fucking car!”

Jungkook does, the door barely latching and almost swinging free as Jimin peels out of the parking lot. Slamming back shut when Jimin does a near 180 to accelerate back onto the main road.

“Sorry hyung,” Yoongi doesn’t need to reply- they all know that every second matters.

Jimin almost collides with a car stopped at the light before he drives on the shoulder, spinning around them. The train matches the road at this part of the tracks so it’s easy to follow it. They keep pace with it as Jimin pushes 70 miles an hour and then 80.

Jimin keeps the gas pedal well acquainted with the floor until they're going faster than the train. Weaving in and out of traffic back and forth, getting honked at and almost cut off several times. Leaving his packmates to grip to seats and their handles. Worried about getting thrown off but still- not wearing their seatbelts.

“We’re never going to make it! It’s too fast! We’re going to hit traffic soon!” The closer they get to the city the less likely it is that they'll be able to catch up to you. It's nearly early morning rush hour, another 30 minutes and these roads will be at a standstill.

“Hang on- let me see the map,” Hoseok watches Yoongi look at it.

“If we go to the next station, we won’t make it. But, if we try to go to the one after that and cut it off-” A look around the car says everyone agrees with Yoongi. Jimin steps on it, and there are a terrifying few minutes where Jimin’s driving skills honestly make them all count their prayers and promise things to gods that they’re already not fond of- but when they skitter and screech into the next station he hears it.

“The next inbound train will be arriving shortly, please collect your belongings. And remember-“

Hoseok is hot on the announcements heals. Sliding to get out of the car before it’s really stopped. “If we miss this one just go to the next station without us-”

“-if you see something say something.”

The train is coming- Hoseok can see the lights about a 100 feet down the tracks and it's moving fast. Yoongi almost makes to get out but Hoseok just shoves him back inside. Jungkook gets out of the car too, bolting in the direction of the stairs. “Hoseok-”

“Yoongi- Just go!”

There are maybe three flights of stairs up, then 50 feet across the tracks, and then the same amount of steps down. He and Jungkook book it up them. Making every second count. Hurtling through time and air. Ignoring the sore and tired pulse of their muscles. They’re clearing the top step and the train is below them. A silver bullet careening and destined to do damage but slowing down.

They bolt across the landing past the ticket kiosk and through the push doors. The train is stopping with a hiss of breaks and a screech of metal. A release of pressurized air that billows up to them warm carrying with it the smell of tar and city.

Hoseok’s lungs are burning. Jungkook is usually faster by just a little bit and would be on any ordinary day. They might be roughly the same height but Hoseok doesn't do cardio nearly as often as Jungkook does. Jungkook's the one who runs every day, who does cardio like it's sleeping and marathons like they're mid-afternoon naps. Who works out and hones his body to a lethal edge just because he can.

But he doesn’t run like Hoseok does.

Hoseok runs like his life depends on it- the same way you would run if he was walking into Geumjae’s arms. You’d never let Geumjae touch even a hair on Hoseok’s head and if- if Moonbyul is who you’re going to- then there is more at stake than just your phsyical safety, too much at stake for Hoseok to be held back by his body.

Hoseok thinks of the tiramisu. Of walking with you on the beach. Of making your nightime stacks just the way you like it. Of holding you that one time you almost fell into the water. Telling you that you had to be careful. Hoseok remembers driving out in his car, tugging your seatbelt to make sure it fit snug. Standing with you side by side in the flower refrigerators at work and the feeling the first time you’d rubbed your scent gland to his. Every playlist of his with your name on it, every song that you ever shared. All of that- she’s going to destroy all of that if Hoseok doesn’t get to you in time.

He remembers how small she made him feel. How small you were when he first saw you. He won’t let you get that way again. Hoseok won’t let you disappear.

Jungkook is the one who would win this race on any other day, where the stakes any different, but just this once Hoseok is faster. Hurling himself over the concrete as fast as his body will take him. Hoseok cuts through the air like wind.

They run, feet thumping. Bodies thudding, hearts and lungs delivering oxygen to their needy muscles. Beat-up sneakers gripping the concrete. Down and down the stairs, plummeting. Almost tripping and falling on the slippery concrete steps. The doors start to close just as they round the corner.

By some miracle of blood and sweat, Hobi's the one who overtakes Jungkook. The doors are closing and the train's metal shell is beginning to hum and vibrate as it makes to pull away from the tracks.

In a last-ditch effort, Hoseok throws himself in the direction of the closing doors.

~-~

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~-~

Do i think that hobi could have actually warned the pack what she was planning to do? Yes. Do I also think that he thought he had more time to warn them and really wanted to sleep off his near death experience? also yes. Namjoon giving him drugs obviously didn't help. i honestly don't think he was thinking clearly.

this is one of those chapters where everything could have gone differently if they'd just been given a little bit more- but i digress- we all know life isn't so neat and tidy.

I can't not write thinking about the angsty alternative ending for bily- but you guys should know the namjoon/m/c scene...if things had gone poorly in this chapter- this would have been the last time they spoke or touched each other for 3 years- for those who are wondering about the alternative ending- i will NOT be posting any of it on AO3. Only on tumblr through asks! i'll try to tag the super triggering stuff but yeah.

when i think of namjoon and the m/c and their relationship- i think that what they want most for each other is to just see the other old and happy like- that becomes the foundation for their relationship. thats why it's namjoon who she thanks. it also doesn't escape me that yoongi is not in this chapter very much- this is intentional. just wait for next chapter and his anger! i swear its so fucking hot my god i really wanted them to fuck in the next chapter but i just don't think it's going to happen.

the og version of this chapter called for jimin parking hobi's car on the tracks and literally letting the train hit it- not derail- but just hit it. just to get it to stop for the m/c however i figured that was going a bit too far.

Me writing any part with jimin in it- "what if i added a bit of religious trauma to it?"

the line where namjoon talks about his hands hurting is like- directly related to me, because my hands didn't hurt all the time before i started writing bily but now my Knuckles hurt almost every morning. After writing for more than an hour they hurt. i guess when you love something enough it hurts you lol i don't mind.

the "you want a lifetime with them" lines are mostly a callback to like...grey's anatomy. namjoon's charecter is LOOOSELY based on mcdreamy of course the whole...neurosurgeon thing and i am 3 seasons into a re-watch so~ you will have to tollerate that cringeworthy refrence~

i've always wanted to structure a chapter around the thud and thump of a heart and yeah!! i think did a few back but i wanted to do it again~

i don't think i was very subtle with the hoseok train station and the train ticket parts of the story like- i think i forshadowed pretty heavily that it was eventually going to be used but! i hope you liked the big reveal.

how did you guys like the cliffhanger? should i spoil it for you when i've always said that bily would get a happy ending????? i mean...come on... we all know hoseok's gonna be fast enough right?

[mrsnegan]

Hi, my request: age gap negan smut

Pretty please, I’m taking anything 🙏

I’m obsessed with your work

[This praise makes me blush, thank you so much for reading my fics! 🥰 And I'm so sorry it took so long to write a little something for your request. It's just a drabble, but I hope you like it!]

Pairing: Negan x f!Reader

Warnings: smut, (unspecified) age gap, fingering, (semi) public, dirty talk, mentions of exhibitionism, a bit of softdom!Negan, some body fluids

He peppers your skin with hot kisses, right there, where your neck connects with your collarbone. A rich moan spills from your lips, your fingers mindlessly caressing the hair at the nape of his neck.

You don't even remember how it started, why the two of you are tangled right now, him pressing you against his body as well as against the cold wall of your house. Everyone in Alexandria seems to despise him because of what he has done years prior. Of course you have heard about it, people love to gossip, even in a lovely little town such as Alexandria.

You don't mind, though. His aura, that self-assured smile, the cocky attitude, his experience, it all makes him even more interesting in your eyes. He may have done some fucked up things you absolutely condone, but you live in a fucked up world and people do a lot of fucked up things to survive or keep each other safe.

Negan rips you out of your thoughts when his teeth playfully bite at your skin.

"Stay with me, I'm just starting," he whispers into your neck, his eyes flashing upwards to scan your face. "Wouldn't want you to miss a thing."

His words send a shiver through your body, heat pooling between your legs. You don't know why the age difference makes your little banter even more arousing, but it does. The mere prospect of a man like him between your thighs sets a fire to your core.

One of his hands travels south, groping your breasts through the fabric of your shirt, lovingly teasing your nipples hardening under all the material.

"So responsive," he teases. His hand wanders downwards, gripping the hem of the skirt you're wearing.

For just a heartbeat you contemplate to grip his hand and yank him away from where you want him the most and into the safeness of your home. Though the delicious feeling of his touches, the risk of potentially getting caught even if you're hidden away in the shadows, nobody to be heard or seen nearby, it all drives you insane. So much so you urge him on to touch you by opening your legs further.

"Shit baby, you're needy, aren't you?"

Nodding your head, you pull him in for another messy kiss. "Please Negan," you whimper.

He whistles lowly when his hand moves upwards on your thigh, noticing what special gift you have prepared for him when his fingers don't meet fabric. He breaks the kiss to look into your eyes, pure desire being reflected right back at him.

"No panties, baby? Fucking hell, someone's eager."

"Only for you," you confess, biting your lip playfully.

You watch Negan with shaking breaths when you feel his fingers connecting with your bare pussy.

"Fuck me, you're so damn wet," he marvels, two of his fingers stroking you with featherlight touches, spreading your wetness from your opening towards your clit and back down again.

Shivers run down your spine, cheeks flushed with how easy it is for Negan to turn you on, to get you this wet with only so much effort.

"Need you," you whisper, head dizzy, knees weak.

"Don't worry, I've got you." He smiles at you mischieviously while sinking first one, then two of his fingers into your welcoming heat.

There's no way for you to swallow the moan spilling from your lips, hands flying to Negan's shoulders to anchor yourself.

"Fucking shit, such a tight little pussy", he marvels while his thumb draws lazy circles on your clit, fingers moving slowly. "But you gotta keep quiet, baby, or do you want to give 'em a show?" With his last words, he fucks into you a bit faster, curling his fingers to find the sweet spot which makes you see stars.

"Fuck, you'd like that, wouldn't you? Me fucking you in front of all those uptight asshats, making you come over and over again? Can feel you squeeze my fingers, dirty little girl," he rambles, only inches away from your lips.

Heat licks at your skin, blood boiling hot from how good Negan makes you feel with only his fingers and this foul mouth of his.

"More, please," you choke out between whimpers.

Negan obliges with a sinister grin, withdrawing his fingers to add a third one, setting a fast pace with the first stroke.

"Oh my God," you moan high-pitched, feeling his fingers bump into your g-stop over and over again, the heel of his hand deliciously connecting with your clit.

"Shh, sweet girl," he whispers, "gotta keep quiet." His hand, not occupied with fucking you senseless, finds a home on your mouth, silencing your moans into little whimpers.

"That's better, isn't it?"

You're unable to answer him, hands flying to his forearm, clawing at his muscles because of the immense pleasure. You feel full, so full of him and those are just his fingers.

Legs beginning to shake from the upcoming orgasm he's going to fuck out of you, against the wall of your house, at a back alley hidden only by the shadows of the night, you feel yourself spiraling. You moan into Negan's palm, not even able to stop yourself from drooling all over his hand with how good and stupid he fingers you.

"Look at that. You gonna come like this, stuffed full of my fingers," he whispers into your ear, tenderly biting into your earlope while his hand pumps away between your legs.

"Go on, baby, come all over my hand, c'mon."

His words drive you over the edge with full force. The white-hot pleasure crashes over you, body shaking in his grasp, your screams of pleasure silenced by his hand which is still firmly pressed against your mouth.

"There you go, my sweet girl, fuck, look at you, making a mess," he praises, talking you through it.

When the last tremours of your orgasm travel through your body, he lowers his palm from your mouth and withdrawing his fingers from your core.

Drawing in harsh breaths, you register that both his hands are drenched from you, one from your salvia, the other from your orgasm.

"Shit, my girl's a wet one."

His girl. Your heart hammers in your chest, not only from your earth-shattering orgasm. You wipe your mouth, searching Negan's lips for a sensual kiss.

"Shut up, Negan." You slap his arm playfully, a breathless laugh escaping you. Taking his hand, you take some wobbly steps to the porch of your house. "Come inside."

"Oh baby, if you insist," he answers with a sinister smirk, following you into your house.

[tanadrin]

Honestly, I *don't* want to mix things with proportional representation. I see proportional representation as an excellent way of increasing the importance of dealings between politicians and reducing the incentive effects of the voters. But in my ideal world I'll need to negotiate with people who do like proportional representation, and this system is a compromise I could get behind. Plus you can plug and play any three different electoral systems for different compromises.

First past the post is a bad, undemocratic electoral system. First past the post privileges large parties by making small ones unviable, and distorts the composition of parliaments by wasting votes. It can be gerrymandered in a way proportional representation cannot be. It produces highly unrepresentative outcomes. It is a bad electoral system! All good voting systems are to some degree inclined to more proportional results.

I've never heard the accusation that PR "increases the importance of dealings between politicians," but look. I don't know how else to put this. That is a stupid objection. Just absolutely boneheaded. You haven't thought about this at all, I reckon.

People hate on "politicians" as a generic class, but it's like hating on lawyers as a generic class. You need politicians. You want politicians. You want people whose specialized job it is to read legislation, fight about what should go in it, represent your interests, and come to balanced compromises about those interests. People percieve politics as messy, venal, and corrupt, and it can be all those things, but guess what? The alternative to career politicians is part-time citizens who don't know what the fuck they're doing, have no expertise in the legislative process, and therefore are at the mercy of lobbyists who can walk them like a dog because they're naive and inexperienced.

There's this especially (but not exclusively) American pathology that is a suspicion of government that works too well. This peculiar notion that if only we sabotage government a little bit it will keep tyranny in check and make politicians more honest... somehow. But filling government with random yahoos doesn't get you a noble collegium of Tocquevillian citizen-lawmakers, it gets you a pack of Marjorie Taylor Greens and Lauren Boberts. You know--morons. Americans will support all these ballot initiatives that fuck up government on purpose, like term-limiting legislators and keeping their salaries low so only rich people can afford to go into politics (and even then are only willing to do it as a stepping stone to other gigs), and vote for people who promise to make government work even worse by cutting the budget and lowering taxes, and then have the absolute gall to whine about how badly the government works. My fellow Americans, you did that on purpose.

(And there's this weird paradox where Americans all loathe Congress. Who keeps voting these creeps in? Well. You do. Congresscritters are generally pretty highly approved of by their own constituents. The stereotype of lazy, stupid, venal politicians always seems to apply to the other guys.)

And you will also note that since the abolition of things that used to facilitate deals between politicians in the U.S. congress--since the abolition of earmarks and chummy socials between congressmen and the post--generally, since the post-Gingrich upheaval in the House--it has gotten harder to pass even necessary, basic legislation, because it is harder to make the basic compromises necessary to keep government functioning. Having three separate legislatures that each can claim a different sort of democratic mandate isn't a recipe for good legislation, it's a recipe for paralysis and constitutional crisis.

[spicyllewyn]

Kinktober 3. - Breeding / degrading.

Bud Cooper x F!Reader.

Tags & warnings. Breeding + degrading + age gap. (Early 20's + late 30's) (+18)

Important writers note. Since Suburbicon is set in 1959 you can guess it right, this is kinda misogynistic lol, there's a bit of dub-con with the breeding part.

Word count. 2k.

Summary. Bud is dying to make you a mommy.

Kinktober masterlist.

Bud was sweet, well, most of the time. You just weren't used to accepting the idea that sometimes he seemed to be obsessed with you.

Flowers, cards, expensive gifts. Having a boyfriend with a job was more fun than you thought, but at the same time, you had to deal with the burden of an older man with completely different aspirations from yours.

You loved him, and he undoubtedly loved you, but did you love him enough to set aside your life plans?

Attending college was a huge privilege, the idea of getting a job, your own apartment. You never saw yourself as a housewife, although you didn't judge those who made that choice; many of your girl friends were living a dream life that way.

And you weren't a fan of kids.

Oh, and weddings were too expensive to even consider.

Needless to say, it was the opposite of what Bud wanted for you. Well, for him. Or should you say, for the both of you, maybe?

"How was work?" Your arms wrapped around his neck as you kissed his lips. As usual, the only thing between you two was a bouquet of flowers. Beautiful sunflowers that matched the aesthetics of your room perfectly.

"They're considering me for a promotion." The tip of his nose rubbed against yours, making you laugh. "You should think about... you know, what we've talked about."

You pursed your lips, shaking your head afterward.

"No." You had lost count of how many times you had to repeat this. "I've already told you, love. No marriage, no engagement, no living together, and no kids until I finish college." You knew the dialogue by heart, and he probably did too.

He groaned, a little pout appearing on his lips.

"People talk," he whispered before kissing your lips again. Ah, you knew that by heart as well; it wasn't very difficult for him to distract you from the main topic.

Ever heard the popular saying "Small town, big hell"? Turns out, for the whole neighborhood, your relationship was more than scandalous. Bud already had a reputation due to his recent divorce, and you had managed to make it even worse with what everyone considered "progressive" ideas for the 50s.

You weren't married, everyone knew that, and you weren't in the process of getting married because every time you attended a boring neighborhood party, they always checked your hands and your partner's hands as a way to confirm that there was no ring yet. But still, you never hid the liberties of your relationship.

You spent whole nights at his apartment, the old lady from the house around the corner always spied on you when you left in the early hours or even in the mornings, with disheveled clothes, messy hair, and smeared lipstick all over your mouth.

The public displays of affection were on your part, although it was difficult for him to give in a little, he later understood that you did not have to be a prude in front of people, in fact, he started to enjoy the way in which people stopped to look. how you devoured his mouth against his car and how it brought moans from your throat because of the way his big hands squeezed your waist as if you were going to get away from him.

He loved your cherry flavored lip gloss and letting everyone know you were his.

"They've always talked." You lowered the bouquet of flowers, placing them on the dining table as his hands traveled the same path over and over, from your hips to your waist. "You know it's not what I want."

He sighed but gave you the same defeated smile as always.

"I know." He took just two steps closer until your body was against the table. "I've got the migraine of the century."

You chuckled. You already knew what that meant.

"And how could I solve that?"

With little effort, he sat you on the edge of the table, and your hands traveled down his chest, brushing his abdomen until they reached the edge of his pants. You tugged at the fabric until his hips were comfortably positioned between your legs.

“You know well what I want.” It was the last thing he whispered before his mouth was on yours, kissing you wetly and desperately.

It was no different than other times, you would never have guessed that Bud had a mission for that night.

While he was nibbling on your lower lip your hands quickly unbuttoned his shirt, you were never going to get tired of admiring his body, muscles and tanned skin were the perfect combination, although this time he was so focused on your mouth that you couldn't move away to do it this time.

His fingers slowly lifted the hem of your mini skirt, the one that made older women look at you with disdain in the streets, the one that he loved so much. Bud only pulled away from your lips when he wanted to, looking down as his thumb brushed the center of your panties.

"Look at that." He whispered, applying more pressure with his thumb. “You're wet from just a couple of kisses."

You nibbled on your already swollen and red bottom lip, your eyes not leaving him for a single second.

“You are such a whore, you know that, sweetheart?” You whimpered as his thumb began to trace small circles over your still covered clit.

You felt how your little pussy throbbed around nothing. 'Whore' was a word that you knew was constantly floating around town to refer to you, it was fucking hot when your boyfriend used it before fucking your brains out.

You nodded slowly and bit back the urge to smile.

“So desperate.” You felt him teasing your hole with his middle finger, wetting your underwear even more as he pressed the fabric against the exact spot your slick ran from.

You sighed and your hands rested on the table for some support while you held your legs open for him. His gaze was still fixed on his hands against your puffy little pussy lips, marking the line between them with his fingers.

“People talk.” He repeated what he had said minutes before. “They talk about what a whore you are for letting yourself be fucked without being married to me.” You thrust your hips forward in desperation when his hand finally slipped under your underwear. You needed him.

“I know y-you love it.” You whispered with a breathy voice. “Letting everyone know I'm nothing but your slut.”

That was enough for him, you knew how to drive him crazy with a flutter of your eyelashes, even more so with a couple of words. He stopped touching you, and you were about to complain until you saw him unbuttoning his pants to give you what you really wanted.

It was your hand that delicately helped him position his cock between your legs. The head pressing against your hole after only pushing your underwear aside.

"This is what you want?" No matter how much he pressed he just didn't thrust into you, a few nights ago you had realized how much he liked to push you to your limit.

“Bud, p-please.”

"Sorry?" You saw the corner of his mouth twitch with the threat of a smile.

"Please please." You whispered, your pleading eyes boring into him.

"Please what?"

“Please fuck me, please, please.” You pushed your hip further to the edge of the table, not even with the pressure of your body you could make him continue. "I need it."

“Yeah? You do?” He cooed, a mocking pout on his face.

“I beg you.” You whimpered, your high pitched voice getting more demanding.

He clicked his tongue and in one thrust he buried himself in you, fulfilling your pleas in one expert movement.

“It doesn't matter h-how many…” He stammered as his fingers dug into your thighs. “How many damn times do I try to stretch you out.” He started with a slow rhythm, strong and deep, enough to use his own hands as a method to keep your body from sliding back on the table. “You are still so fucking thight, baby.”

Your hands traveled to your breasts, squeezing them over the fabric of your sweater, giving him a bit of a show before taking it off.

Ah yes, the fact that you didn't wear a bra was also something that attracted glances on the streets.

“Look at you, pretty girl.” He leaned enough so that he could bury his face between your breasts, licking his lips before beginning to place wet kisses on your soft skin. “Fuck, I want to marry you.”

His voice almost sounded pleading as your fingers ruffled his hair and pushed him even closer to you. He took one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking on it as his hips slammed into you again and again in a desperate rhythm.

“Please, please.” He whispered against your skin. “Please, marry me.” You were too cock drunk to think or speak clearly, you just nodded even though he couldn't see you.

It didn't take long for Bud to find that spot inside you, you moaned as loudly as you wanted, your back arching as if your body was begging to be as attached as it could be to his.

“Be my wife, baby.” You recognized well the way his voice broke, he was close.

He rested his chin on your chest and looked up. His eyes looked bigger from that position, it was stupidly adorable.

“P-Pull out.” You whispered between whimpers, your forehead resting against his.

Who were you trying to fool? You both loved each other so much it hurt.

He didn't obey you, his movements became more abrupt and you heard the table creak under your body along with the slap of your skin against his.

He was fucking you merciless.

“B-Bud.” You patted his cheek, trying to get his attention. “A-Ah, shit. P-Pull out.”

He dragged his hand up your thigh slowly until he reached between your legs, he pressed his thumb against your swollen clit making you see stars.

“Bud!” You exclaimed loudly, your entire body trembling with pleasure. “Yes, y-yes, God, yes.”

“You are going to be such a pretty mommy.” His nose brushed against yours as he straightened his back, seeking to be at your height.

You wanted to refuse, you really wanted to tell him to stop but your body was at his mercy, begging for more.

Praying he wouldn't get out of you.

“You want me to pull out, sweetheart?” He took your bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling on it and giving it a little tug before releasing it. “Tell me, do you want me to?”

Only moans came out of your mouth, shouting Bud's name and the word 'more' over and over again.

"I thought so." A delicate kiss on your lips. And another, and another, and another, and another. “You want my baby, don't you?”

You weren't thinking, you really weren't when you nodded.

A smile appeared on his face, accompanying his flushed cheeks and bright eyes.

It only took two more thrusts for you both to reach the limit, for the first time you felt the pleasure of being filled to the brim by him as your walls squeezed every last drop out of him. The warm liquid running down your thighs as your insides couldn't take any more.

“You are such an…” One more thrust silenced you, the way he pushed his spend deeper inside you. “Idiot.” You whispered, closing your eyes at the sensitivity of your body.

“You should start thinking about names.” His teasing smile made you want to punch him, but the soft, slow movement of his hips made you want to ask for more. “What do you say, love?” He pretended to pay attention to your babbling. “Yes, I think so too.”

He kissed your lips once, twice, three times.

“I'm not sure one is enough either.”

Tag list. @ninebluehearts @shousha133 @unear7hly @onefinnedwonder-fm @automnepoet @lokisremainingsanity @uncle-eggy @just-a-nightdreamer @spktrgantenk

Remember to comment if you want to be on the kinktober tag list!! <3

ngl, i kinda liked this one lol

[myoddessy]

out with the old, in with the new | w2s/harry lewis

summary —new accounts, new lifestyle, new clubs every night. an insight into just what—and who—youtube's non-youtuber it girl got up to during her split from harry

*once again following the lead of @whoetoshaw and her bog universe's iconic breakup era ALSO, one of the twitter threads is rlly grainy and I'm sorry abt that, i couldn't properly fix it so you have to just zoom in on it 😭

2023, January

2018, July.

liked by zoeleonards, taliamar, masonmount, and 11, 824 others

yourusername lay all your love on me 🌻🍹☀️

tagged: zoeleonards, chloemitchells

zoeleonards london reality, greece fantasy 💔😞

yourusername ibiza couldn't come sooner!

wroetominter OMGOMG IVE DREAMED ABOUT YOU RETURNING TO SOCIAL MEDIA

ynfan omg shes glowing 🤩🤩

chloemitchells mykonos has never looked better 🤤😍😘

yourusername love u, lover girl 😘😘 ❤️❤️

2018, August.

liked by chloemitchells, tobjizzle, leahwilliamson, and 20,349 others

yourusername snuck behind a dj booth and had a blast, had a few more shots than I should've, fell more in love with my girls. ibiza, you will forever be famous 🍾✨️

zoeleonards it was nice having the hotel room to just myself and Chloe for a bit x 🤣🤭

ynfangirl DOES THIS MEAN THE MASON MOUNT RUMOURS ARE TRUE??

chloemitchells @ynfangirl who's that? never heard of him 🤷‍♀️

ynloverrrr it HAS to be true

freyanightingale beautiful girl ❤️

yourusername ❤️❤️❤️

sidemenfav the way that her, freya, and talia still like each others posts and support each other 💔

liked by yourusername, taliamar, and freyanightingale

ynandharry tobi likes every one of her posts, too. they really are family no matter what 😭

2019, January

liked by pierregasly, zerkaa, mabel, and 30,568 others

yourusername we're able to have semi-classy girls trips, who knew?

tagged: zoeleonards

chloemitchells gutted I couldn't make it, I miss u two beautiful girls 😭❤️

yourusername CHLO!!! it wasn't the same without you, babe xx

zoeleonards I missed placing bets on who y/n was gonna make a move on 💔

yourusername IM NOT THAT BAD ZOË JESUS

chloemitchells yeah, give her some slack... it's usually placing bets on who's gonna make a move on her 😉

ynfanpage queen we need tips on how to live our best lives because you are teaching us all rn

yourusername 1) the only long term relationship you need to focus on is the one with yourself. 2) surround yourself with people you love and support & who will love and support you. 3) learn to not give a fuck what anyone else things because everyone's too busy in their own heads to care ❤️❤️

taliaminterr how is your life so aesthetic?? irl gossip girl vibes!!

yourusername babe trust my life doesn't look like this day to day, I only show the fun bits. rn it's 4am and I've got four day old greasy hair, dried mascara under my eyes (I watched UP without taking off my makeup first), and I'm eating cereal and drinking flat coke zero. I am not the standard you should aim for 😭😭

ynslover I love how open and honest she is about her content. she's actually such a good role model

liked by taliamar, freyanightingale, chloemitchells, and 19,519 others

yourusername apparently people think the party life in my photo dumps is my day-to-day? babes, if I can teach any of you one thing in life, it's that half the shit you see online is fake. half the 'candid' moments are staged, same goes for almost every picture you see. so here's a little dump of my actual reality

zoeleonards yeah guys she's actually so messy it's insane. it makes me want to move out

yourusername SHUT IT. zoë has about three different vases of dead flowers in her room because she forgets to take them out.

zoeleonards that's nothing on the old cups in your room

yourusername BLOCKING U

ynslover how does it feel to be the most relatable influencer ever even though you're not an influencer?

taliamar omg you've still got the vinyls!!

yourusername ofc, babe! I needed something to remember our days of charity shop hopping

2023, January

[wheelerpilled]

'forced conformity is killing the kids'

Mike Wheeler ST5 Theory/analysis

So we've all seen the new BTS of Finn Wolfhard on the set of Stranger Things dropped and OH MY GOD. THE DUALITY FROM LAST SEASON.

I have to TRY write about it ATLEAST...because wow I have a lot of potential thoughts, sorry it's once again unstructured, messy, and repetitive but stay with me please!!!!!!!!!!

I've seen ALOT of people happy we're getting s1-2 Mike hair back but guys .....it's not a good thing!!!!!!!!!! Mike is going THROUGH IT.

______________________________________________

In Season 4 it's acknowledged that Mike is finally coming into his own a bit, Eddie says he was wearing 'whatever his mom bought him' when he first came to highschool, but in episode 1 when we see him for the first time in S4, he's clearly been influenced by Eddie and has figured out what style he likes and what he's interested in, he's in a DND club, he's comfortable being known as an uncool nerd, he's growing his hair out (yes I DO believe it's because he idolised Eddie, I have more to say about that in a second)

basically: his hair and his outfits, aswell as pretty much the way he acts in Hawkins (NOT California- he goes back to pretending to be something else) in S4 represents the ideology non-conformity and his sense freedom in this new persona

he doesn't feel lost in highschool anymore, he's doing what he likes with his friends (DnD) and he's proudly wearing his hellfire shirt around school/Hawkins, basically, he's accepting that it's okay to enjoy 'different' things that aren't considered the norm, and it makes him happy, he feels comfortable!

_____________________________________________

But now in Season 5, from the pictures we've seen, it looks like he's fully reverted back into his shell, I guess I understand why tbh I don't blame him:

he comes back to Hawkins after everything and everyone believes he's in a satanic cult- townspeople probably treat him badly and Jason's team mates probably blame Eddie and the rest of hellfire for Jason's 'disappearance' (death). They directly connect him with all the horrible things that have happened to Hawkins as of late

...which is probably what the BTS of them walking towards Mike are about, they probably keep harassing him no matter how he acts and Mike just wants them to leave him alone, let's face it:

High school has probably gone full circle back to middle school for Mike and he's getting bullied/mistreated again. So he feels his only option is to remove himself from Hellfire and become 'normal'.

Hellfire might maybe even be blamed for the gates being opened. Last we heard, the townspeople were hunting down Eddie and the rest of hellfire, and the graffiti on Eddie's grave in the S5 pics shows that he's still very much hated.

Mike probably got harassed by multiple people who don't believe Eddie's dead, or believe Mike was in on it and are out looking for him, or think Hellfire contributed to some satanic ritual causing the 'earthquake' and thus Mike is also a target and it's dangerous for him.

So I think part of the style change and haircut is due to THAT, he doesn't wear his hellfire shirt anymore because he doesn't want any affiliation with the club.

As Finn Wolfhard has said in previous interviews 'mikes just trying to act as normal as possible' so by seperating himself from Eddie/Hellfire and becoming more conventionally 'normal' he won't be treated like an outcast.

He won't be assaulted, bullied, blamed, or worse if he conforms. He has a greater chance of everything becoming better/easier while living in Hawkins if he does this, he might have even given up DnD aswell- so yeah he's gonna be pretty MISERABLE in season 5

___________________________________________

Alot of people wanted to see his reaction to Eddie's death, I think we'll definitely be seeing the lingering after effects of it, and alot of Mike's arc will kick off because of the aftermath of the vilification of Hellfire.

Only few people know that Eddie died to try protect Hawkins, Eddie was a role model for Dustin and Mike, but they're grieving him in COMPLETELY different ways

Dustin decides to honour him by taking up a similar style and proudly wearing his hellfire shirt, and is also probably trying to sway the town's opinion on Eddie and prove him innocent.

....But Mike seemingly decides that he DOESNT want to end up like Eddie anymore: dead and hated, known as a satanic freak.

Someone he idolised is now deceased, he doesn't know how to properly handle that fact, it's intimidating that someone he looked up to do much could be so hated, and in turn has caused the reaction from Mike that is basically 'if my idol is treated as such a horrible outcast, and I wanted to follow in his footsteps, where would that leave me?' he's feeling lost and hopeless, especially with the state Hawkins is in, so he probably decides the best thing to do is just blend in. Be normal.

It probably scares him that even merely his interest in DnD and all these other factors immediately make him a target, as far as townspeople believe- Mike is one of the kids who was close with a brutal serial killer, they probably think he's just as 'messed up as Eddie the freak was' for staying friends with someone who'd do such horrible things

I think Mike just wants to hide as much as he can right now, he has ALOT on his plate and doesn't need the rest of the town out to get him.

so if anyone asks: he'll probably say things like 'I didn't really know Eddie! I would never join a cult like that, I didn't know!' or something to try seperate his name from the hellfire club.

Mike will end up picking protecting himself and hiding his true identity and values/traits rather then living exposed and vulnerable; yet true to what he actually believes is right....And that is the opposite of what Dustin is doing,

Dustin is a proud hellfire member and friend of Eddie, he's picking what he thinks is right over self-preservation from the town, he's still wearing his battered shirt, now HE'S the one growing his hair out, he still adores Eddie and misses him (so does Mike probably, but he feels he CANT outwardly publicly show support or stand up for him)

I do wonder if this will cause some sort of tension between Dustin and Mike, because Dustin is doing the opposite and becoming more like Eddie instead of distancing himself from the hellfire name, he might feel betrayed that Mike 'gave up' on Hellfire, and maybe accuse him of not even caring about Eddie or his death?? Idk!!!!!!!!!! I feel like Dustin will also be going through it this season 😭😭😭

_____________________________________________

I do also think Mike will try to be clinging alot to El this season (I mean, before they inevitably break up which I believe will probably happen kinda early on if it actually happens at all)

this is also because just the idea of having a girlfriend corresponds to his idea of conformity and being 'normal'. He just wants to be a normal guy, his life is nothing out for the ordinary, he's not interested in satanic things like dnd and hellfire, he's just a normal person. A normal person who is PROBABLY a target of Vecna in season 5 😓

I believe his arc for this season will be trying to breakout of these notions of conformity in exchange for things he actually likes and is interested in, we saw him sort of branching out in season 4, but I think THIS time it's happening for real, and he'll end up fully embracing his own views and interests after some sort of emotional arc-which will also probably be part of the M*lev*n break up (not censored because I'm against them/hate them I just don't wanna clog the tag for others 😭😭) OR set off by the breakup

Throughout season 1 he was told he liked El, or others assumed it, so I think he assumed it aswell, they just never broke up because El ALSO thinks having a boyfriend is normal and expected, and because Mike was the boy she was closest to she assumed it was romantic feelings (and he kissed her in S1 which probably contributed to her assuming they were romantic feelings)

Alot of the people around her are also in relationships, and she watched alot of TV with happy romantic couples so she thinks it's more normal to HAVE a boyfriend then to NOT have one, I think Mike and El kinda stayed together because they think they're SUPPOSED to by these social standards,

They obviously care about each other alot, and mistook it as reasons to just stay together, she wants to be a normal girl because only being a superhero isnt good for her, she needs to be 'Jane Hopper' and not '011'. I do think she definitely needs to be single for awhile and find herself, even if her and Mike are to be endgame, she NEEDS at least some time to gain some experiences outside of living her life as a superhero, (Mike also needs character development outside of being 'Els Boyfriend's)

Which is why it was vital that her time with max in S3 existed, so El could realise her value and that there is a life outside having a boyfriend- I think Mike needs a similar moment aswell, a wake-up call of sorts where he can take a step back and consider maybe rather than letting society dictate his actions, he makes decisions for what he wants for himself ('we make our own rules')

_____________________________________________

If m*lev*n is endgame then sure that's great for them, but I genuinely don't know what big character arc could be in store for Mike that doesn't involve a breakup and themes of non-conforming, it doesn't even have to involve Byler endgame at all (although I AM a byler truther)

I think Mike learning that it's okay to let go of that romantic relationship if he doesn't feel that way anymore is a big step for his character, or atleast taking a break so he can work on himself, anything along those lines of actual development on himself rather then on his relationship- El and Mike have been romantically paired from the start, he needs to learn that it's OKAY to breakup with someone if thats what he feels is right, (side note: I DO believe El would/will be the one to breakup with him 😭)

I don't think he realises that he'll be able to stay friends with El, it's not 'shes my girlfriend or else she'll hate me for breaking up with her. No other options'

he doesn't want to lose her because he cares about her but he can't find a way to balance that romantic relationship alongside his other friendships. So I think for his character to develop they have to breakup, even temporarily, but obviously that's only my opinion if M*lev*n is endgame then oh well, it's endgame, but I think they would be a really awesome platonic duo and I'd like their relationship alot more if it was that way

______________________________________________

I think later in the season he'll realise that living this way not actually what he wants, and he doesn't want to give up who he is, or pretend to be something he's not- because he IS a nerd who likes DnD, and he does support Eddie, he cared alot about him because he idolised him, and i think season 5 is about him learning that that's okay and he doesn't have to feel so much pressure to conform by societal standards, bro needs a better grief process, forced conformity GOT HIS ASS 😭😭😭

What I'm trying to say is: all of this, and his new look is a safety net of sorts, he's still pretending to be something he's not because he feels he HAS to, otherwise it's dangerous for him in Hawkins because of hellfires reputation, but he's also acting this way because of other factors that I haven't really thought through yet LMAO

I believe season 5 will probably be him accepting those things about himself and embracing it, maybe also undoing his emotional repression along the way, I guess I would describe it as coming of age and I think if it's handled well it could be really beautiful in a way

OH MY GOD I RAMBLED SO MUCH AND IT ISNT EVEN A SOLID THEORY JUST A COLLECTION OF THOUGHTS😭

Sorry that was long and repetitive but uhhhhhhhhhhhh yeah..........anyways Mike Wheeler ily keep ur head up king please don't die in S5‼️‼️ stay safe‼️‼️

[gavisuntiedboot]

Whenever you have the time could you write about Gavi with a gf that is a bit reserved and touch starved, her love language is physical touch but she doesn't initiate it with Gavi because her ex always told her she is clingy and annoying so she's insecure about it, so Gavi tries to show her it's okay by always cuddling her, or touching her in any way. And then over time she starts to initiate the cuddling/touching and Gavi is so proud and happy because she finally feels comfortable with him

Your writing is amazing btw, I've decided to wait for you to finish Just Pretend completely to continue reading it because whenever I finish the last chapter you post I get so sad because the next one isn't out yet and I can't live in the agony of not knowing what happens next

Pls hold my hand

"Princess, why do you have a sweatshirt that says ‘clingy’ on it?”

You looked over to Gavi, who plopped himself down on the couch next to you, grabbing the remote to cue the Netflix show the two of you had been watching for the last several weeks, eager to finally watch another episode, as the two of you held your shared series’ to a sacred standard. With only two episodes left of the latest “Drive to Survive”, you didn’t want to delay the experience with too much conversation.

"Just and inside joke between me and my friends.” You said, avoiding eye contact and focusing on the bag of m&m’s in front of you.

“Your friends think you’re clingy?” He asked, turning to face you as his hoodie slipped from his head, messy brown locks on full display. One of the things you adored about Pablo was how much he was always trying to protect you and look out for you. You weren’t really be confrontational, and this lead to some mistreatment and being pushed over at times by those close to you. Well, you used to. Since you and Pablo started dating about 8 months ago, he had been there to defend you against people who wanted to take advantage, and often was the voice reminding you to stick up for yourself.

“No no, it’s not them. It’s … something to do with my ex boyfriend. Do you still want to know?”

Gavi tensed at this. Despite you never saying anything explicitly negative about your boyfriend, all the stories Gavi heard made him hate the man with a burning passion. He had slowly but surely messed you up in so many ways, and now as Pablo worked to slowly unravel the knots tightened around your heart, he couldn’t help but curse the man that tied them to begin with.

“Yeah. You can tell me.”

You shifted in your seat, rather uncomfortable with the topic, but not wanting to lie to your boyfriend.

“Well, remember that little love languages quiz I made you do? Well I did mine like years ago, and I got physical touch. Which makes sense right because that’s one of yours and we seem to be getting along pretty well.” Gavi giggled at this, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and causing you to tense.

“Well, my last boyfriend wasn’t super into like… touching? Fuck that sounds sexual. I mean he didn’t really like being touched or cuddling or all that couple stuff. Didn’t like holding hands either. And like this one time, he was watching something on his computer and I was feeling bold or whatever and tried to sit on his lap — he hated that though. He liked pushed me onto the floor and told me to stop being clingy.” You forced out a laugh, trying to lighten the mood and soften the look of horror that had occupied Gavi’s face.

“That was actually why I broke up with him. Anyways I didn’t hug any of my friends for a month after that, and when they finally confronted me and I told them why, they got this made me for me. See, look at the sleeve,” you said, stretching out your arm to show him the ‘pls hold my hand’ embroidered on the sleeve. “So now whenever I’m in my clingy sweatshirt, my friends give me a ton of hugs and stuff. It’s funny. I think.” You say, winching slightly by the fact that Pablo’s eyebrows are still pushed together in anger.

He muttered his grievances about your boyfriend while cuddling closer to you, pulling you into his chest. Your cheeks warmed as they were pressed against Gavi’s beating heart. Despite the long time you had been dating Pablo, you still were shy when it came to initiating any sort of affection. You were too scared of annoying him and pushing him further away. So you remained shy and reserved, only responding to the touches he initiated.

“Give me your hand, silly. Never been with a girl who came with instructions before. Maybe I should get you a pair of panties that say-“ his sentence abruptly ended with a pillow to the face. You giggled, trying to pull away from his grasp, but he just pulled you closer, wrapping both arms around you now.

“Oh no no princesa. You’re not going anywhere. Now hush and make mean comments about Verstappen with me.”

~

Over the next few weeks, Pablo had made an active effort to make you more comfortable with being physical with him. Whenever the two of you were out, he held your hand or had you two link arms. He hugged you and kissed you on the cheek or forehead, asking, “you don’t want to give me a kiss back, Amor?” Puppy dog eyes and adorable pout on display, you coyly returned the peck to his jutted out lip. He smiled widely, teeth almost blinding you. He returned with an attack, kissing you across both cheeks, and ending with a searing kiss to the lips.

His favorite time was when you two watched shows together. He would always pull you in close, cuddling with you next to him on the couch. He would lean close and whisper his comments about the show into your ear, making your skin erupt in goosebumps as his breath famed over. He would press kisses into your temples, breathing in the sweet smell of your hair, and reminding you how much he loved being around you.

“You’re so warm amor - my personal furnace. I love it.”

“Your skin is so soft, feels so nice.”

“I wish I never had to get up from beside you.”

After three weeks of hand holding, kisses, and encouragement, you finally found the confidence to approach Gavi to heal your touch starvation. You put on your clingy hoodie again, laying out snacks on the coffee table and firing up her Netflix.

“Princesa I’m here! Where are you?”

Running to the door, you wrapped both arms around Gavi’s neck, pulling him into you and greeting him with a firm kiss. As he recovered from the unexpected greeting, you informed him that you would be in the living room pulling up a new series. He followed closely after kicking off his shoes, and peeling off his Barca jacket, picking up the hoodie you had laid out for him.

“Did you change shampoos? Used to be peach and now it’s strawberry.”

“How could you tell?” You asked, grabbing some drinks as Pablo got comfy on the couch. He crossed his arms across his chest, legs spread and back slumped.

“My clothes smell different around the shoulders. That’s usually where your wet hair sits.” He looked over at you, watching your eyes go wide. “Amor, you know I love you, stop being surprised when I actually act like it. Now what are we watching?”

Taking a deep breath, you walked back over. You grabbed the remote, pressing play.

“The new season of Black Mirror is out and I’m dying to see it. Heard this one is creepier than normal.” As you explained, you walked over to Gavi. Before he could move to make space for you on the sofa, you draped yourself over his lap. Your legs were to his side, back pressed to his chest. Your arms wrapped around his torso, and you laid your head on his shoulder. ‘Deep breaths it’s okay he’s not going to push you off.’

Pablo was stunned for a moment, so much so that he remained motionless. Once the shock wore off and he felt your slight tremble, he brought his muscled arms around you, pulling you tightly against him, soft lips pressing to your pulse point and freeing a soft gasp from your throat. He rested his head atop yours, the pressure and warmth comforting and familiar.

“Look at you being bold cariño. If I knew it would get you to sit in my lap we would’ve done this months ago.” You giggled softly in response, turning to face him. You rested your forehead against his, gazing deeply into the deep brown pools of his eyes. Leaning in, his lips eagerly met yours, refusing to release you. When you finally pulled away, you resumed your comfortable position in Pablo’s embrace. “I’m so proud of you, princesa.” The two of you fell into s comfortable silence, enjoying the show, squeezing each other tighter whenever things got intense.

“Can I get a matching clingy hoodie for whenever I want cuddles?” Pablo asked, smiling at you from above.

“I don’t think so, Pablito. You would never take it off.”

~~~

Guys I have the worst headacheeeeee but yay I posted!

[yuseirra]

An analysis of Aqua Hoshino's character and drive & his feelings towards kana

**oshi no ko spoilers**

I'd been following onk time to time, but I def decided to pick it back up after having read aqua's feelings towards kana was confirmed in the recent chapters.

I was all like YES!! Finally!! About time!! because I thought that was something really obvious throughout this piece. I never saw it any other way. (This is my personal take, no offense on anyone who's thought otherwise!!) I wouldn't say I was entirely satisfied with all the things that happened in between..things were a bit messy. I still felt his character was always very consistent, however.

I wrote my thoughts about him, like one I did with Ai sometime back in May. so this analysis doesn't reflect the new stuff that's came after that.. but I still think a lot of what I've written here still stands. This is how I personally interpret the character and the stuff that's been going on in his heart. I think he's the most well-written character in this series along with Ai.. I was impressed about it when I first got into this series, I hope that will remain until the end

*this was originally written in a different language. It's machine-translated+ edited a little to make more sense

I've heard some spoilers about the development of onk, and I feel I did a pretty job with bringing Aqua's character right in my fan comics of him! It was all on point. I wrote a lot of analysis about Aqua's psychology but it's all gone, I wish some of it were left... Aqua's love for Kana is something that's been hinted at a lot, and I don't think there's much room to believe otherwise. I think it's pretty obvious that he's been in love with Kana the whole time. He'd been acting the way he is because the character is very mentally cornered and in self-doubt that he doesn't deserve to find happiness. In turn, he represses his feelings, but when he becomes a little cheerful, you see him turning his attention to Kana, and when he sees Kana, he's revitalized. If you follow Aqua's feelings, it's very natural that it comes out like this, he has a crush on Kana. I'm proud that I recognized that in the latest development, I'm proud that I recognized it properly. I'm so proud. But there was a lot of plot device and all leading up to it, so…I think it was in vol 10? When he thought he didn't have to take revenge, Aqua smiled relaxedly as if he had been saved for a while and dated Kana, so I think the reason he's trying to take revenge is because of his guilt over Ai rather than it being its true wants. He hates himself for having been unable to save the ones he's cared for, and he's so miserable and tormented that he doesn't care what happens to him. The funny thing is that even though he can't tolerate himself being happy, he's happy when he sees Kana. He feels both good and troubled because he can't help having her brightening his mood up again. He didn't have the heart to fully enjoy those feelings, but as soon as he thought there was no need to revenge, he straight makes a move on kana. The reason why Aqua dived back to continue his vengeance is because he realized that the person he was to revenge was still alive and well.

In fact, revenge is a way for Aqua to inflict sufferings to himself. If you look at his psychology, he doesn't enjoy revenge, but rather wants to be comfortable, and he was mentally exhausted to the point where he thought he would die after he finished her revenge (that's how his vows to revenge acted as his reason to continue living for awhile), but when he met someone he liked (Kana) or someone who cared for him(Akane), aqua starts to realize that he has more to live for. There's also Ruby, the precious child he once wanted to protect in his past life but couldn't. At this point, if Aqua goes through with his revenge, he might actually make himself even more unhappy, because he's going to make all those precious people around him suffer with him if he does. He can't just throw himself away now because seeing them makes him want to live a little longer, wish to be happy.

I think the major deal here would have to do with how the "revenge" will be brought out. That is something that's brought in as the main conflict element of the work. Ai's death is the most powerful event in the story, as it's the trigger, and it has a very strong grip on the characters, and it needs to have a strong grip on the story. I don't think any of the readers would want to see it fizzle out.

However, Aqua… I think he's a well-described character. This guy hasn't changed at all. Heck, he's not even that tough. He's not that relentless or decisive, so I'm not sure if he's really going to cut it for the revenge, and I don't think revenge will make him so happy (That's why I think Kana is the one who should take him. I'm not saying they have to be together, but I'd be happy if they end up walking in the same direction in the future. The reason why I support Aqukana is because they have mutual feelings towards each other and they're happy to be together. I think it would be nice to see that happen, but let's see how things'll play out..) I believe the method aqua COULD work with is to give the person he's revenging more trauma than he's experienced himself, and I think that can happen from conveying Ai's true feelings to the said character. Aqua seems to be aiming for that.

One of the keywords of this work is "lie", but the work seems to imply that there is some sincerity in the lies. Ai says that her lies were also love, and I wonder if something about that will come out again?

Anyway, it seems that the Ai's sincerity was not properly conveyed to the person Aqua wants to get revenge on. When told to them in hindsight, it must be something that can shock them in some way, and it seems that Ai herself wanted for it get across too. That's why Aqua wants to create the movie. I feel it's the right direction for him to do so as well, for it'll be passing on Ai's will.

+ Below are some more thoughts about Aqua's psyche.

Aqua is a character that deserves to be psychoanalyzed. I listened to Mephisto again after a long time, and I think the song really captures the character's psychology. I think the deepest core of Aqua's character is that he can't forgive herself for things that he's not really responsible for, and he punishes herself for that, and that punishment manifests itself in the form of not being able to allow himself to be happy, giving up and letting go to extreme extents. He does not value himself.

I think this is an attitude that is carried over from the character's previous life, and I think the death of his mother during his birth weighed heavily on him. He originally wanted to be a surgeon, but he switched to obstetrics and gynecology, and this was the beginning of his struggle. It appears like he was living a somewhat cheerful life up to this point, but that wasn't all, the guilt that he caused his mother's death was always there. Because before dying and being reincarnated, he mentioned something like "I thought that people like me would fall to hell"<. This was in episode 1, so I wondered just what's made him feel that way. If you review the whole story so far, that's about the only reason I feel could explain him downplay himself like that. He was a doctor. He had a life where he tried a lot and achieved something, being murdered and had it all reaped away, he doesn't seem to be so resentful and angry about this. The last thing he thinks is that he should be next to Ai and watch her over well as a doctor. I don't think this is because he has no attachment to his former life, rather, it's probably because he never placed a lot of value on himself., He didn't have a painful life like Ruby did, and he was a really kind and good person his previous life, so it's not like he needs to be so condescending about himself but he's like that.

This attitude of his continues, and Aqua is a bit obsessive about protecting other people's lives because he thinks he's taken someone else's life just by being born. It only worsens after he fails to save a patient he cared about, and his idol, his mother in this life, dies in front of his eyes. Even though he became a doctor and learned medical knowledge to save someone, in the former case, it wasn't a patient she could save, and in the latter case, he was young to do something and with Ai being critically injured, there was nothing that could be done.

The compulsion that was already there could only intensify, and with the death of Ai, I think this character completely lets go of his reason to live, because he hates himself for being so helpless. I think it's easier for him to take all the blame for the situation (even though it's all external factor, and he's not responsible for it) and take all the resentment and sadness for the situation on himself. If you look closely, you can see that even though he says he's going to kill the person who killed his child, he's not really interested in the person himself: what does he look like, how is he living, does he have a family, what is his psychology, why did he kill Ai, etc. If you look at the lyrics of Mephisto, it's like, "I don't care what happens to me as long as you survive," which is very self-loathing. Aqua is in a very precarious state, and he's very depressed. He tries to convince himself that finding and avenging the one responsible for Ai's murder is his sole purpose to live. He can't allow herself to be happy, because his mindset goes: "Ai's suffered such misery, and I dare be happy and live a normal life? No can do, I couldn't protect her, I don't deserve that". <This thought acts as punishment to his unforgivable self, and it prevents him from fully enjoying other things and living in peace.

There are two main ways that this character can make himself feel better: first, in terms of his own behavior, he seems to feel better by helping others. Even though his behavior keeps hurting the girls' feelings, Aqua is a character who likes to help others. He's good at supporting others, and he's often seen smiling behind their backs after having done so. I think the fact that he felt saved when he realized Ruby was the patient he cared about is an extension of this, and it fits his personality to believe it's enough for him to see the girl he couldn't save is living happily If other people are happy, he's happy. That's his core personality.

The other would be to find something to like and love, which, unlike the act of helping others earlier, is not something Aqua does on purpose, but something he came to naturally find in his new life. And it was Kana who gave this to Aqua.

This is why Aqua likes Kana but keeps her at a distance. He's not supposed to be happy, but whenever he thinks, "I want to be happy…" Aqua sees Kana. Spending time with Kana makes Aqua happy. When he think of happy memories, Kana fills him up. She makes him smile, laugh, and relax. He seems to like people like Kana, and he never gets tired of watching her, just as he enjoyed watching her as a fan. 'I'm going to die, I'm not going to be happy, and she's a celebrity now, and being close to me is scandalous, and there's nothing good about being close to me, and I'm in the dark (laughs), and I'm going to lose my humanity and become a vengeance demon, and she's going to be unhappy with me'. He tries to convince himself he's no good, but he still ends up hanging with her because, well, he likes her and it happens. And then he pushes Kana away, because he thinks there are reasons why him and Kana wouldn't work out. He thinks it's bad for her. This leads Kana to think Aqua doesn't have feelings for her, but she still likes him through all that;;; and it's been like that the whole time. That's why they made so little progress while they have mutual feelings towards one another. Aqua needs to forgive himself first before anything, but on his path of revenge due to him being unable to do that, he's done even more unforgivable things that he thinks are unforgivable, he's really screwed up now. He's put himself in a really tough spot.

The fact that someone who's not that compatible with revenge and whose personality is kind in essence is trying to force it (this ties in with Aqua's characterization two paragraphs above, that he likes to help others. Aqua thinks that he was unable to do anything for Ai, so he can't give up her revenge because he thinks going through with it is for Ai's sake), he wavers, and even though he seems to be calm, he keeps hesitating and stumbling. And while doing so, he's hurt the people around him over and over, making him feel self-deprecating and self-hating. That's a really bad cycle. Aqua actually cares a lot about the people around him. If Akane, Ruby, Kana, or the couple who raised him are in danger, he'll hold off on revenge AGAIN. But he can't give up on revenge either. As long as he thinks about Ai, he won't give up.

The only way for Aqua to be truly happy is to live with people who love him. But he also has to make sure that he's done the right thing for Ai, and I think the key is to really understand what she wanted. If she actually fully embraced the person who murdered her… I think that'd be cruel. I don't think it should be so. Idols are people, too. They shouldn't have to accept everything. Should they refuse to hate and resent others even though they died so unjustly? I don't think the manga will go that way, and I think while Ai always smiled, she had some darkness in her heart. So I'm not sure how this will be resolved at this stage, but that's that.

In this piece, Kana is the one who makes Aqua smile at the moment. So it seems like going in that direction would be happiness for this character, but in order for Aqua to get there, he needs to tie the knot with Ai and stop hating himself. I don't know how that's going to happen, but if this comic is going to have a happy ending, it's going to happen. I don't know how it'd get there, but I don't think this comic is going to have an unhappy ending for Aqua at all. I don't think it's going to end in tragedy. That is all!

[cheezeybread]

Recently, I've had one of those moments where my brain reminds me of something existing that I'm not sure many other people remember about, and that thing is American McGee's Alice [and, additionally, the sequel to that game, Madness Returns].

Two braincells collided here, because I've got mild Twisted Wonderland brainrot to go along with this reminder, and so inevitably my mind conjured up this: Riddle [or all of Heartslaybyul, if you're up for it. Individually, of course.] with a reader who is a lot like Alice, but instead of the expected Alice in Wonderland personality, they're the warped version we wind up with in American McGee's Alice.

For additional context, I've got some brief excerpts from the Wikipedias for both games:

"The game centers on the novels' protagonist Alice, whose family is killed in a house fire years before the story of the game takes place. After several years of treatment in a psychiatric clinic, the emotionally traumatized Alice makes a mental retreat to Wonderland, which has been disfigured by her injured psyche."

"Alice was discharged from a psychiatric clinic and now lives in an orphanage for mentally traumatized orphans under the care of Dr. Angus Bumby. To get rid of the trauma and learn the truth about her past, she once again falls into Wonderland, where a new evil force has corrupted it."

Bonus points if you feel like covering, touching on experiences near the beginning of the reader being present at NCR and potentially making an assumption of being ported off to some place like that Twisted version of Wonderland [haha] that they'd been in before, only to have to learn this is something very separate from that [the focus doesn't have to be on this obviously, especially not since there's not MUCH you can do with that, I don't think]

Yeah, hi, I was literally just about to go to bed when I saw this and thought "no, I'll do it in the morning" and then I COULDN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT

I've never heard of this game before, but tbh, now I really want to play it! Sorry if it's messy, but I started thinking about Overblot Riddle, and then I just started typing away...

.....

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: After years of intensive treatment after a housefire, Reader is brought to Twisted Wonderland, and mistakes it for the Wonderland they've previously been trapped in mentally. Even after the realization of this different world, old scars still stay

𝙁𝙩: 𝙈𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙍𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙡𝙚, 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙗𝙮𝙪𝙡 𝙙𝙤𝙧𝙢 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙨!

Tw// Dark imagery, graphic depictions of death and fire, mentally unstable mc (just like me fr fr)

𝙏𝙒𝙄𝙎𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙒𝙊𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍𝙇𝘼𝙉𝘿 (𝙥𝙩. 1)

.·:*¨ ✘♚✘ ¨*:·.

You couldn't seem to escape it.

The Twisted Wonderland of your own mind.

You thought you were starting to get better, after the first incident. Or, at least, as better as someone in your situation could get. You had escaped the torment that your brain had cooked up. You learned to deal with your emotional scars, alongside the physical scars lining bits and pieces of your skin.

But then, the black mirror seemed to call out to you in your dream. It held such alluring promises, and the dark glass, rippling like some sort of soft river current, seemed to invite you to look through it once more. Without thinking twice about it, you stepped through the mirror, and found yourself trapped in another world.

.....

The shapes of the cards haunted your mind.

Ace, Spades, Clovers, Diamonds...they circled your brain in a make-believe dance. Refusing to leave.

Meeting Heartslabyul was the trigger for it all.

The small, seemingly innocuous symbols marked on their faces made your blood freeze. Paint the roses. Happy Unbirthday.

"OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!"

The words made your skin crawl, and the burns etched on your skin began to ache, to jolt your brain into remembering.

.·:*¨ ✘♚✘ ¨*:·.

A happy little tea party, set in a field of bright green grass, unnaturally soft under your toes. The table set before you was piled with goodies, and a set of friendly faces sat around you, each carrying their own conversation. It was such a wonderful party.

But then the grass under your feet grew from a cooling sensation to a burning one. You stood up from your chair, and the motion sent you reeling back into reality.

Bright orange flames flickered around you, each one reaching out like the hand of a ghoul attempting to pull you down into the grave. You jumped out of your bed, crying in pain when your bare feet hit the carpet underfoot. Although it wasn't exactly carpet at that point; the plastic fibers in the fabric had melted and were boiling hot.

Despite the pain, and the terrifying feeling of the fire, you ran out of your room and out into the hallway, only to be met with the sight of your father laying on the ground mere feet away, face-down, one arm outstretched to the door of your room. His flesh had mostly melted away at that point, the charred bones in his skeleton peeking out from barely clinging-on skin. The only distinguishable feature was his silver wedding ring, now dulled to a flat gray.

Room by room you ran, despite the flames grabbing at your arms and legs, causing irreversible damage. Dead. Dead. Dead.

The Firemen who arrived on the scene first found you in the front yard, alone, passed out from smoke inhalation and pain.

You didn't wake up fully for several years after that.

.·:*¨ ✘♚✘ ¨*:·.

"IT'S OFF WITH THE HEADS OF ANYONE WHO DEFIES ME!"

Not even a whole week into your stay in this world, you were met with the horrifying fact that "overblots" existed.

Unfortunately for you, the very first was akin to the Queen of Hearts herself.

"Riddle, please, stop!" Trey yelled out, his skin glistening with sweat from exerting his own power in an attempt to block Riddle's signature spell.

Either oblivious to his friend's cries, or simply not caring enough to respond, Riddle raised his arms up and dropped a fist in a slamming motion, causing one of the rosebushes to uproot itself and leap towards those trying to save the Heartslabyul leader.

You dropped to the ground, hands covering your ears as you shut your eyes tightly. At the first sight of Riddle, at his transformation, everything had ceased to be. Your progress in recovering, your calm demeanor towards this "Twisted Wonderland", your semi-friendly actions towards the students who sneered at you, and even your attempts at befriending the Heartslabyul members. It all came crashing down, and all you could feel was the ghost of of a fire encircling your body, and the quick flashed of those in your own twisted Wonderland coming back to haunt you.

You couldn't escape them, could you?

"Hey, HEY!" Someone put a hand on your shoulder, causing you to scream and jerk away. You opened your eyes in panic, which allowed you another glimpse of the Ruthless Tyrant, and only made you panic more, your chest heaving from gasped breaths.

The man who had touched you looked concerned- and rightfully so- at your wide eyes, paled skin, and wet eyes "Hey, stay with us, please," Ace begged "We need all the help we can get."

But you would be no help here.

You gave one final look to the Blotted Riddle...surprisingly, he looked back at you, his eyes narrowed with hatred and disgust.

They looked just like her eyes...

Everything went dark.

.·:*¨ ✘♚✘ ¨*:·.

Riddle sat in a chair next to the mysterious student's bed, his gaze focused on a small piece of hair laying on the floor underfoot. He looked like shit, to say the least. He held bags under his eyes, and his skin was several shades paler than it normally was. He had just been released by the nurse a day ago, following the incident with his overblotting.

There was a slight shuffling sound, and Riddle looked up hopefully, expecting to see you awake and fine. But no such luck. It was only your shoulder twitching in your sleep.

Riddle would be lying if he said he wasn't interested in you from the beginning. The sheer amount of terror in your eyes as you stepped foot into the Heartslabyul's territory (as told to him from Ace) was something to behold. And, also according to Ace and Deuce, you had some....issues...with cards and a certain "Wonderland". And he felt like shit about it all. He had known, even from just a gut feeling, that there was something going on with you. He could tell that much just from looking at the deep, darkened burn scars that flashed underneath your sleeved, that showed whenever the leg of your pants raised up a little bit above your ankle.

And he had played into that terror. He had made you get worse, and you were still in the nurse's office, recovering from the "incident".

"I'm sorry," he said softly, reaching out a hand to pat your arm gently. An apology was all he could muster at the moment.

But, to be sure, he would make up for everything when you woke up.

If you woke up.

.·:*¨ ✘♚✘ ¨*:·.

[canirove]

In The Name of Love | Chapter 3

Author's note: A little clarification about the previous chapter since someone commented it on Wattpad. What happened between Val and Pedri when he visited her was all consensual. In all my stories I always try to make it clear, but sometimes I may not manage to write down what I have in my head or it gets lost in translation. Also, for future chapters. Teasing each other is like their love language, so when they do it, they aren't actually being mean. It's just their way of saying I love you 😁 Hope you enjoy this chapter, and thank you to everyone who has been reading so far! 💜

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

"That room over there is my brother's, and those are guest rooms for when my parents or my friends come to stay. But the best room is this one" Pedri smiles. "Not because it is mine, the woman who showed me the house said so."

"Sure" I chuckle.

"She did. Are you ready?"

"Ready."

"Welcome to my room, my lady" he says before opening the door. "I know it is a bit messy, but I didn't want it to make it look perfect because that isn't me, you know? And this weekend I want you to get to know me, not the football star."

"Since when are you a football star?" I ask with a teasing smile.

"Ha ha ha. You are so funny, Val" he says, rolling his eyes. 

"I know" I smile. "But I like it. I actually like the whole house. I've seen others this big and modern and they look so cold and empty with just a sofa and a tv in a corner and an untouched kitchen… But yours looks like a place where there are people living. And it's messy, yes. But it is an organized mess."

"I wouldn't have described it better" he laughs. "Do you want to check the view? That's the reason why this room is the best one."

"Please."

"Then after you, my lady" Pedri says, opening the balcony's door.

"Thank you" I giggle. My God, why did I giggle? He just opened a door for me! "Oh, wow" I gasp as I walk outside.

"It is the best, isn't it?"

"It's beautiful" I say as I lean on the railing and look around in awe, the sun setting in front of me. 

"It has never looked as beautiful as it does right now, tho."

"Pedri!" I laugh, turning around to look at him.

"It is what it is" he shrugs. He's leaning against the balcony's door frame, his arms crossed over his chest, a soft smile on his lips. He had never looked so… So...Ok , I'm gonna say it. So boyfriend. 

"It was cheesy" I giggle again, feeling my cheeks get warmer and warmer and my stomach do funny things while he just looks at me, making me feel as if I'm 15 again and my crush has finally acknowledged me. 

Dear lord, he is turning me into a teenager. 

"It was the truth" he says before walking towards me, my heart skipping a beat when I feel one of his hands cupping my face, the other on my low back, pulling me closer towards him before kissing me.

But it isn't a kiss like the ones we've shared before. It is soft, gentle, slow. And it is making me melt under his touch, making my body relax and forget about anything else. It's just him and I, his lips on mine, his hands on my body, the feeling of his heart beating against my chest. 

And it keeps being like that as he walks me back into the room, when he lays me down on the bed, when he takes off my clothes and leaves kisses all over my body, when I feel him inside me. There is no rush, no need to make it to the end like happened yesterday. It's just us moving at the same rhythm, enjoying every second, every touch, every kiss. And it's perfect.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Val, we are gonna be late. What are you doing?" 

"I can't find my phone. A moment ago I was texting Silvia and now it's gone."

"If it was under the bed don't you think you would have heard it fall?" Pedri chuckles.

"Maybe? I don't know. Can you call me to see if it's here somewhere?" I say, getting up.

"Val…"

"Wait, no. Don't call me, I have it on vibration. Though that makes noise, so if we are quiet…"

"Val…"

"Or maybe it is in the bathroom? I went there to check if I was leaving something behind and…"

"Valeria!"

"I know you don't want to be late, but there is no need to yell, Pedro."

"Have you checked your pockets?" 

"My pockets?"

"On your jeans. Have you checked them?"

"There is nothing there."

"Back pockets" he sighs.

"What… fuck" I say when I feel my phone on one of them. 

"It happens to the best of us" he laughs. "Now can we please go?"

"Yes, of course. We don't want Xavi to get mad at you, do we? He may not choose you for the starting eleven and… Do you want to cuddle?"

"What?" Pedri laughs again.

"Come, let's cuddle for a bit" I say, sitting on the bed and extending my arms towards him.

"Val, that's cheating."

"I don't know what you are talking about" I shrug.

"Of course not" he smirks. "Let's go."

"Wait, no… Pedri!" I complain when he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder.

"You wanted to cuddle, right? This is a new way of doing it" he says, slapping my butt while we leave the room.

"You better not fall down the stairs."

"I wouldn't dare" he replies, this time pinching me, laughing when I try to hit him and miss. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"You know where to meet after the game, right?"

"I do, Pedri" I say while checking that I have everything I may need in my purse.

"If you get lost or something…"

"I'll call you, don't worry."

"You better. And are you sure you don't want me to drive you a bit closer to the stadium?"

"I'm sure. I don't want someone recognizing you, taking a photo of us together, and end up all over the internet."

"Neither do I, to be honest" he sighs. "Anyway, before you leave… Can I get a good luck kiss?" he pouts.

"What about one that says I hope you have a good game but that your team loses?" I smile.

"I don't like how that sounds."

"Leave it or take it" I shrug.

"Ok, fine" he sighs. "You merengones are so mean."

"Oh, shut up" I say, grabbing him by his t-shirt and pulling him towards me before kissing him. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"I'm telling you that's her."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Let's go say hello."

"Ok. But try not to say anything stupid or he'll get mad."

"I won't, Gavi. Relax. Hello!" 

"Hi" I say to the two guys walking towards me.

"You are Pedri's friend, right? Valeria."

"Yep."

"I'm Ferran, and this is Gavi. Though you probably already know."

"I recognized Gavi, but you…"

"Bro" Gavi laughs.

"She's messing with you" Pedri says behind them.

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. Yesterday I made you check everyone's name and photo so you would know who is who during the game."

"It didn't work" I shrug. 

"Then do you know who I am or not?" Ferran asks.

"I do, I was just teasing you" I smile. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to finally meet you too!"

"Finally?"

"Our boy here hasn't stopped talking about you since the day he met you" Ferran says, putting his arm around Pedri's shoulders. "I don't blame him, tho."

"He's completely smitten" Gavi chuckles.

"Shut up" Pedri says, getting free of Ferran's grip and moving to stand next to me, his cheeks a bright shade of pink. He's blushing. Cute. Wait, what?

"Oh, don't get mad, Pepi."

"Pepi? What kind of name is that?" I laugh.

"That's how his fans call him" Ferran smiles.

"Why would they call you that? Pedri didn't sound stupid enough?"

"Oh my God" Gavi gasps.

"You weren't joking when you said she's savage" Ferran laughs.

"Yeah, well, whatever. We should get going, Val. You have an early morning tomorrow" Pedri says, trying to end the conversation.

"I actually do, yes" I say, noticing how uncomfortable he is feeling.

"We have to meet another day, then. Maybe for lunch or dinner?" Ferran says.

"Yes, sure" I smile. "It was nice meeting you, guys."

"You too, Val" Ferran says, taking my hand and kissing it, making Pedri roll his eyes before getting inside the car. 

"Bye."

"Bye" he and Gavi say at the same time.

"They are nice" I say once I am inside the car.

"And annoying" Pedri mutters. 

"Congratulations on that goal, by the way" I say, trying to lighten up the mood. 

"Thank you" he replies, finally looking at me. "Did you see that I dedicated it to you?"

"You did?"

"Yep" he smiles. Finally. 

"I saw that you did like a peace sign or something."

"It wasn't a peace sign, Val! It was a V! I sent you a kiss and then did a V!"

"Oh…" I say, suddenly feeling my cheeks get warm, not sure if of embarrassment or because of how cute he was by dedicating me his goal. 

"I'm sure there are photos already, let me check."

"Won't they close the stadium with us inside or something? I can't sleep at the Camp Nou, I'm already feeling all itchy from the time I've been here."

"Stop complaining" Pedri laughs, his eyes fixed on his phone. "Here. Look. The kiss" he says, showing me a photo. "And the V. My first goal of the season is for you" he smiles.

"Thank you" I reply, blushing again. And this time it definitely is because of how cute he is. Because he is cute. Admit it, Valeria. "No one had ever dedicated me a goal before."

"Well, this will be the first of many."

"Just promise me one of those future goals won't be against Real Madrid."

"I'll try" he laughs. "And I think I'm gonna post these photos on Instagram. What do you think?"

"You are smiling, I like them."

"Do you like my smile?" he asks, arching one of those perfect eyebrows of his.

"It's ok" I shrug, my face now burning. Thank God he isn't able to notice because of how dark the parking is.

"Just ok, sure" Pedri chuckles while typing on his phone.

"Do you run it yourself? Your Instagram account, I mean."

"I do. I've been offered to have someone do it for me, but I like doing it myself."

"Because that way you can manage better your dms with the teenagers?" I tease him.

"Exactly that, yes" he laughs. "Though I don't do it anymore."

"Do what?"

"Dm girls. Or reply to their dms."

"Why?"

"Because now I'm only interested in sliding into the dms of a certain girl" he says with a cheeky smile.

"Poor thing" I reply, looking away and acting as if I didn't know who he is talking about.

"Yes, poor thing. And posted. Will you give it a like?"

"Are you mad? What if someone sees it and they don't allow me to set foot in the Bernabéu ever again?" 

"They'll understand" he laughs, starting the car.

"They won't. I'm literally sleeping with the enemy, Pedri. Just that could ban me forever."

"You are such a drama queen, Val" he laughs again. "But does that mean there is no chance I will be seeing you in my notifications?" 

"Well… You actually look really cute in those photos. They are like worth it." Cute. Cute, cute, cute. The word of the night.

"I'll take that as a yes, then" he smiles. 

"But I didn't say yes. Or maybe."

"You kind of did" Pedri smirks.

"I just… whatever" I say, looking out the window so he can't see the stupid smile on my face. 

And yes, I ended up giving him that like. Let's just hope Florentino doesn't see it.

[shiftingconfessions]

TW: Beginner venting!

(Would appreciate advice)

I've first heard about shifting in 2021, but only believed in it in 2022.

My heart was so broken from trauma, depression and Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD) that certain night I was just crying and didn't know what to do — then I just remembered about shifting. Belief and hope born from the pain.

Now I'm going to be honest, I'm not the type that can claim they've tried everything for years. I didn't; and what I did, I didn't do it consistently. The thing is: I'm a highly sensitive person. And I sure don't handle failure well. I feel heartbroken and afraid it's going to take more years for me to succeed, every single time I perceive I'm in my CR after a shifting attempt. I know we're always shifting, and a part of us always shifts in the attempts — but honestly? That means to me as much as knowing that technically polar bears aren't white. It can get to the point I feel physical pain in my chest, and sometimes it triggers full blown gastritis crisis. So I tend to give up again and again.

I know I should be patient, stick with a shifting routine, build and fellow a plan assuming that I will shift. I feel like I really believe in shifting and that I'm going to shift — the question is "when". That's what haunts me. It hurts just to think that this will take longer. My CR situation isn't great. SAD engulfed my whole life. I'm 20 and I can't study, work, nor date, and I almost don't get out of my house. My family have bad monetary conditions and I know I'm being a burden. I feel like a failure and the despair grows as time goes by. I'm in therapy and I'm trying to get better, but I still am not. And towards my SAD, yes, I can say I've tried everything, for more than a decade. So just "resolve your CR problems and then come back" isn't quite an option.

I feel so confused. People say shifting is so easy, so why so many people have difficulty with it? This makes me feel guilty for still not being able to. And also makes me so jealous. Guess this is kinda common for baby shifters, the jealousy. I'm jealous of the success and jealous of their skillsets/gifts. Which again makes me feel guilty, because it's pretty icky to desire their outcomes and don't pay the price they did. Well, that doesn't apply to cases where people shoft after little to no effort and time; then I just feel unlucky. When I see posts like "I've taught my friend/sister/brother/etc how to shift and they did!", oh, it's the worse. I get so jealous of these ones, because it really seems so good to be "adopted" by an experienced shifter. I honestly feel like I'm walking without sight; I just know where I want to end at, but the path is a messy mystery.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not lazy. It's not like I'm not willing to pay the price of magic — like, common. It's just a little learning and then I'll have the whole multiverse. And although I really am hardworking, I don't say this just about me. I feel like most of us aren't lazy at all; to work is human. The problem is the emotional and psychological part of the journey. The problem is the time. The problem is how long is this process going to take.

"Just be patient and do the right things consistently" I tell myself, but I don't really know how to do that. Not when my heart aches and my CR devour my remaining sanity. And It's such a hard thought knowing heaven is just behind a door I can see but fail to open.

I can understand why people that already shifted see our pre-shift reactions as drama (I mean, is just a tiny bit of stress time in comparison with a life full of shifts). But right now, it really hurts. It really is intense for me. I don't know how to care less, how to feel less.

I don't have any friends into shifting, and I would love to just have someone I trust to talk about it. Sometimes I think I could tell my besties about it; but I know that they'll think I'm just being delusional, escapist and that believing in this is self-destructive. Or worse, they can believe in it and end in a place similar to mine. I plan on telling them when I already shifted, though.

I want to make online friends into shifting, but I'm so afraid people will hate me because I'm currently not the most pleasant company.

.

[the-one-that-weeps]

i like ur words n thoughts. do more pls (if ur so inclined)

Hello! I'm so sorry I couldn't answer this sooner, I'm glad we're finally mutuals! I've heard many great things about you, it's a true honour!

Your wish is my command, I'll make sure my word smithing skills improve and develop in time :D

I heard you wanted me to specify more on the order of the characters in units, so I'll try to explain that a little bit!

Although I do consider the order of the units characters is exclusively chronological and these are just some instances of coincidence, I'm more than glad to explain:

The third characters in every unit are as follows: Honami, Airi, Akito, Nene and Ena. Their stories seem to gravitate towards validation.

The clear examples of this are the Shinonomes and Airi. Both Akito and Ena share a need to overcome obstacles on a treacherous path, they both suffer greatly over "not being enough" or "getting left behind by their teammates".

Airi is in a similar situation where she was left behind by other idols after she became a variety show idol. She quit the group after being called "average" (not good enough) by the manager.

Honami only ever wanted to not be hated by her peers. Chasing that validation, that "you're good enough", she basically erased her own wishes in order to be accepted.

And Nene is a little difficult, but let's remember she also struggles with self worth and could barely sing on a stage a year ago. She's also afraid she won't be good enough, she's also chasing validation and praise to become like her mentor.

The fourth characters in every unit (Rui and Toya being also the last ones to join in the main story) are as follows: Shiho, Shizuku, Toya, Rui and Mizuki. The theme that I believe connects them best is... Connection. Or, alternatively, reconnection.

Mizuki and Rui are quick to understand: they both have a past full of abandonment and ostracism. They eventually learn to reconnect with their unit and heal over time as well. They're also very tightly knit with the theme of understanding.

Toya's isn't as much about vbs as it is about music in general. Toya had a musical past outside of vbs, but his connection with music was twisted, it brought him pain. His theme isn't even "connection" as much as "reconnection", because Toya grows to love and cherish music again.

Shizuku also plays on this, she's been in an idol group prior to mmj, but she never connected with her teammates the way she did with mmj. Now, she isn't hated or despised anymore, she's not "just a pretty face" — she's herself, she's Shizuku, and Shizuku is the one to create bonds and connects.

And Shiho's is a story of loneliness too. Shiho is guilty for the Leoneed disbandment in the first place, and she almost makes them disband again in Resonating With You, too. She has a very hard time forging bonds with people and comes off as a loner, but she grows past that. She's still Shiho, of course, but she starts letting people in, embracing them, connecting with them.

If this theme doesn't suit your ocs in particular, the fourth characters also have a strong theme of "self" or "loneliness" to them! But that's more of a universal thing, i wouldn't dwell on it.

Anyhow, I hope this wasn't too messy and helped you! Thank you for your attention and becoming mutuals with me once again!

[solarpunkani]

Y'know someone's probably waxed poetic about this already but it's on my mind so I'm gonna do it again.

When it comes to encouraging people to learn about native plants and habitat and involving themselves and their yards in the wider ecosystem, you gotta meet them where they're at.

And maybe that means they won't go as far into it as you are or would like them to in your wildest dreams. But even small steps count towards the bigger picture and I think we need to appreciate that more.

An example from my own life is my mom and the current gardening project we're working on. We're planning out the garden beds in the front of the yard by the mailbox--my mom's previous plantings for the most part haven't worked out, so I'm taking a crack at it.

I'm a pollinator gardening enthusiast who cares more about attracting as many butterflies bees and hummingbirds as possible than keeping things 'neat' and 'tidy'. However, not only do we live in an HOA neighborhood (though not as intense as some other stories I've heard), but I know my mother--an interior designer who has a deeply vested care for making sure the exterior of the house looks as Nice as possible.

We're still getting a pollinator garden in the front though. How? I'm meeting her where she's at, I'm making some concessions, she's making some concessions, but ultimately we're making something that works for the both of us. She doesn't want the plants too tall and messy? We'll trim them back in fall and winter--the insects can use the backyard garden to nest in. She doesn't want things too wild and bushy and weedy? We'll add a nice mulch to the beds, keep things a bit spaced out until they grow in to their larger sizes. She doesn't know the latin names for the plants I'm asking for, let alone how to pronounce them to ask for them at a garden center? That's fine, I don't know the Latin names for most things anyways, let's just use common names.

Does she care that the garden will attract butterflies and hummingbirds? Not intrinsically--she sees it as more of a bonus, if anything. She just cares about what color everything will be and if it'll be easy to maintain. The fact that they're native plants barely registers as a plus side to her. And honestly? That is fine.

If I approached this problem with a hardheaded attitude on how I wanted it to be just as wild and free as my backyard garden? There wouldn't be any native plants in the front beds. It's not like I didn't teach my mom things, but I didn't lecture her like she was lesser just for not knowing or caring as much about native gardening as I do. And that, ultimately, made her more open to the idea than she would've been if I looked down on her like I've seen too many people do to others.

Not everyone is going to develop a deeply seated care about native plants and Latin names and I don't think it's reasonable to expect that. Meet people where they're at and you just might get a lot more done. Meet people where they're at and you just might find they'll get excited enough to learn more--but if they don't want to learn more, that is fine.

We can't expect everyone on the globe to suddenly become plant experts rattling off Latin names left and right and professionally ID'ing native and invasive plants. In the same way we wouldn't expect everyone to suddenly learn the ins and outs of learning code, or how to synthesize medicines, or how to properly build a house. And that is fine. Because we can lean on those who do know when these things come up.

I lost track of where this was going but. Y'know????

[i984]

A Letter to the Yearning Moon

|Pairing|: Wednesday Addams x gender neutral reader

|Warnings|: HURT HURT HURT, Stupid! Wednesday Addams, falls too late! Wednesday Addams, hates proper communication! Wednesday Addams, a rejection letter for a confession letter, this isn't even a fic, you guys will just sit there reading from first person, improper use of Greek mythology, author was sick when writing this.

|Summary|: Wednesday Addams receives a love letter.

|A/n|: I used @tundra1029 's prompt very very loosely. This goes to all of you who fell in love at the wrong time.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

An envelope.

Wednesday snatched the object from her beloved Thing.

Inside is a paper filled with letters that form words and thus string sentences together snugly beside each other. Carefully opening the folds, the ravenette's eyes trace your handwriting, your voice playing inside her mind.

My dear Selene,

Countless words have been poured on papers, yet none truly holds the power to speak my sentiments whole. Man's invention has failed me; poetry and portraits defeated by my thoughts and feelings for you. Like others before me, I'll still try to convey myself to you, and I hope by the end of this letter, we'll still be able to face each other and nod in tandem.

I loved the way you smiled. It was rare, of course, and when it finally happened, I saw before my eyes the most beautiful angel grace the earth with sweet honey and green meadows; light rain washes the world from its wrongs, and suddenly everything was so vibrant, so you.

I loved the way you laughed. It resembles the little bells adorning the bracelet I gifted you last year. In what people will deem maniacal, I find comfort and warmth, genuine glee and freedom. The things I would do to go back and listen to it again for the first time, I wouldn't regret it one bit.

I loved the way you walked. Our shoulders would brush, and my pinkie would tremble because I wanted to link it with yours. Every time, I would worry that you'll flinch and step away, or even worse; you'll tell me off, and we'll never walk together again. That never happened, and instead, I was the one who pulled away and disappeared.

I loved the way you let me into your life. To become a friend, a companion, and to let me cling to my hope of us ever becoming more. I watch you tolerate my obnoxious laughter and incessant chatter, my tasteless love poems, and the squiggly drawing of us—holding hands with our foreheads pressed together.

I loved how you hurt me gently, with no remorse or regret. When your countless 'no's proved fruitless, you just stood there and gave me less and less. I was doing the loving for the both of us, even though there wasn't an 'us' to begin with.

I loved you too much; it killed me every time I saw you, felt you, touched you, heard you, and it ruined me. The mere idea of you burns my husk with an eternal flame of suffering. Eros was laughing at me, and I hated passion and everything it stands for.

Your raven hair and pale, cold skin haunt my sleepless nights and daydreams. Your typewriter stared me down atop your desk, and I could clearly picture the image of your back and hear the clacks your fingers produced with each move.

I can see our hands accidentally touching atop that damned bookshelf every time I walk past the library. Your eyes were sunken, and your braids were messy. You looked lifeless, more than ever. And I've never hated anything more in my entire life.

It's funny—or tragic, depending on who's talking—how you, a person so impassive and emotionless, make me experience all the feelings poets and writers have sung and poured on paper. I adored love songs and loathe them now. I screamed, and I laughed, in despair and in delight.

You made me love, then hate, and I didn't understand you, me, and us.

I hated my arms that longed to hold you. I hated my fingers that wished to brush your hair loose. I hated my lips for wanting to press them onto your perfect skin. I hated my mind for yearning to understand you. I hated myself for desiring such a creature of perfection and bliss—God's gift for dirty and wretched humanity—a blade that lodges, twists, and turns the heart, and you wouldn't pull it out.

So I freed myself from your chains and whips, from the ruins and the broken pieces that were us, from the shards of glass that slit my neck and arms, and from the three words I wish to hear you repeat after.

Love was deeply tangled in hatred, and if I loved you more, I might kill you out of resentment. Instead, I killed my muse, freedom, and your half-finished portrait. And I figured that maybe that way, I could kill love, kill you.

I loved you, and in some ways, I still do. You're a great friend and a patient confidante. You're my hero and the moon I sought to glow above my bleak and numbing nights. But I've learned to love me more than you, and to love me means destroying your temple and building my own from the collapsed rock. It means painting over your mural with my favorite colors and drawing hearts on love poetries to myself.

I sprouted wings, and they blazed golden. Claiming heaven for myself, I left you down on treasured mother earth. If cruelness grew in me, I would ask you to stop feeling for me. But to fall for someone, and for you, is the greatest blessing in life, and I wish for you to experience the same.

Your words finally mirrored mine, and I pray in another life, we can love and live without fear, regret, or guilt. Until that day comes and sets us free from human prison, do settle as my fallen angel, my harbinger of death.

And maybe then, Chronos will let us meet and fall for each other together, and our story will be complete; a happy end for you and me.

I loved you, Wednesday Addams, and I am eternally grateful to have you feel the same for me now.

Sincerely,

Your foolish sun.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

A/n2: Did that make any sense? No. So I'll clear a few things out for you. This is a letter for someone who fell for you late. You fell so deep in love, it drives you mad, and you've confessed countless times to this person. Yet, the person doesn't reciprocate your feeling, and so you gave up. You moved on in life, and learnt to love yourself like you did this person. As Fate has it, this damned person falls in love with you after your feelings are gone, and this letter conveys that it's too late because you can't love them again, and you wish for them to figure out what one-sided love feels like, and what does it mean to love themselves in the end.

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