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#but it’s the one that made me fall in love with theatre
tulsa24 · 10 months
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oh i love waitress so much
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cosmicallydivine · 1 year
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every day i think about how the original lines in hadestown when orpheus turns back were going to be “you’re early” “i missed you” and every day i want to eat cement
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strwberri-milk · 3 months
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Hi, good morning/ afternoon/ evening. I've probably read all of your work on LnD, and I love them all. If it's not too much, can I request like the boys getting a call/update from MC after a disastrous wanderer attack on the city after not being able to contact them?? If possible, established relationship😅 ... thank you for your time!
im glad you like all my writing for them!! im so aefjaweofaw please give me the next main story update - also theres lots of references/imagery of death so if youre not chill w that i will see you tomorrow [salute] - theres also some very very slight references to their myths!! it feels a little ooc to me but thats bc. i think theyd be a little ooc when faced w a tragedy like this!! i hope you like it anyway <3
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Zayne holds his breath every time a new patient is admitted. The hospital is busy with all of the patients that are coming in with the disaster, a mixture of those hanging on and people running up to him because he's the closest doctor in the vicinity to confirm death.
He volunteered himself to do triage because he was convinced that he'd be able to stop you from dying, that if you came in through those doors he'd be able to separate his love for you from the mind that studied all those nights but that's impossible - he only got here because of you.
His mind runs circles around himself, almost separated from his body as he tries to figure out why you weren't there. Hopefully it's because you're fine - you don't need medical attention or the medics on site were enough for you. However, he knows there's an equal chance that it's just because a doctor onsite was able to confirm your death and now you were in some bag, stored away with the others waiting for him to come identify you.
When he finally gets a moment to himself he obsessively checks his phone, praying to something that might take enough pity on him to listen at the very least that you'll call him. Minutes turn to hours as he's called back to work. Silence is a commodity now as he's stuck in the theatre, only able to go home after he's exceeded the legal amount of hours he's allowed to work in one night.
The long turned cold water hits his muscles as his mind wanders in the quiet of his home. You still haven't called - nobody's called. He understands that surely, all of you are busy but he's been there when the calls have had to be made. To hear the sobs on the other side of the phone as a squad captain confirms the death of another hunter as they softly ask if they'd like to see the body. He's also seen the calls when the bodies are far too mangled, a sight that no loved one should have to bear. He's waiting for it, almost falling in his haste to grab his phone once it finally rings.
Your number pops up, the letters of your name taunting him as he tries to answer it. He's about ready to throw his phone on the ground from the water on his hand refusing to make picking up the call an easy feat.
"Hello?" Zayne asks, an uncharacteristic shake in his voice.
"Zayne! I'm okay!" you say, voice sounding a little weak but definitely better than he could have ever anticipated.
"Zayne? Honey? Hello?" you ask when you're met with only silence, now beginning to grow anxious yourself. You knew he must have been busy - you were too - and you thought he was safe. He should have been, you'd heard no reports of the hospital being attacked.
"You're alive," he chokes out, falling to his knees.
"Of course I am! Things have just been chaotic so I haven't had enough time to call you until now," you explain, continuing to talk to him.
You hear rustling on the other side of the phone, trying to get his attention again before he cuts you off.
"Where are you right now? Home?"
"Oh - yeah I'm on leave now. Most of us who were in active duty are to let his recuperate. How come?"
"I'll be there soon."
He hangs up immediately, leaving you a little stunned. You decide to clean up a little, having nothing else to do really until he comes over. Zayne never acts this impulsively so you assume that the day with no contact really wore on him.
Once he arrives you open the door for him, planning to apologise for the lack of contact when he almost throws himself at you. You hold him back just as tightly, a little shaken yourself as you close the door after him. You realise that for whatever reason he's soaking, unsure if you should confront that but you decide to ignore it.
He leads you right to your couch, too exhausted to even find your bedroom as he buries himself against your chest. It's not the normal way he lays with you - typically he likes to hold you - but you know not to bother him now. You can't deny you were worried about him too, knowing he probably put in a bunch of overtime at the hospital.
He holds onto you tightly, measuring out the beat of your heart. It's the only way he can remind himself that you're still alive, that the two of you have one more day together.
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Xavier has never felt like he wanted to die more than in this moment. One minute you were running with him, trying to stop the Wanderer from attacking the group of civilians the next you're totally gone. Logically, he knows you're most likely fighting a Wanderer by yourself and you can handle it but somewhere he's convinced you'll die without him at your side. You've proved yourself more than capable but he worries about you all the time - he knows how to fight these things, he's been fighting them for far longer than you have - and if you died here he'd have no more reason for living.
He practically goes beserk, tearing into each and every creature with the hopes that one of them can take him to you. With each failure he starts to spiral, standing atop a pile of rubble as he watches the recovery teams start to spread into the city. It practically took an entire squadron to force him to go home, promising him that he'd be the firs t to hear once they found you.
You were diligently following Xavier when you noticed another Wanderer going after a child. You knew that he'd panic once he couldn't find you but you couldn't just abandon them. You tried to tell him you'd be splitting off but over all the screams and screeches he couldn't hear you and you couldn't waste any more time trying to get his attention.
You were able to defeat the Wanderer but not before sustaining an injury that made it too difficult for you to continue active duty, taking the child to a safe spot and staying with them until help arrived. You ended up passing out from the pain shortly thereafter, waking up a day later to Tara in your face heaving a sigh of relief as she called for a doctor to come check on you.
Your body was simply fatigued and after an extra day of monitoring and ensuring you were receiving everything you needed to make sure you wouldn't collapse again when you get home. You nod, knowing what procedure is at this point. You reach out for your phone once the doctor leaves, knowing that Xavier must be worried out of his mind.
You're right, of course. He's laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling as he waits for someone to call him. He saw the scale of disaster this attack was, knows that everything is absolutely awful and he's not the only one waiting for news but every minute that passes is another minute you could be trapped, praying that he's coming there to save you.
He decides to ignore the strict orders he's gotten, suiting up to go help the recovery efforts. He was going bad staying in bed all day, unable to get a wink of sleep as pictures of your suffering flash across his tortured mind. Working on pulling valuables and any remnants of life is depressing on a good day but right now it's downright torturous. He can't help but think that the next thing he pulls out is going to be your hand, severed far from your body.
When his phone rings everything disappears. He quickly picks up, steeling his expression to avoid making things worse should someone look over at him. He doesn't even notice who called him, just hoping that it was someone with news.
"Oh! You picked up fast. Are you just sitting at home then?" you ask casually, so casually he thinks it's almost cruel. How could you act so nonchalant about the fact that you held his life in your hands, that you are the only thing in this world he can bear to wake up for?
"No, I'm helping the recovery efforts despite orders. I...it was too quiet at home," he offers as an explanation and you hum. He can imagine you nodding, tapping your chin as you think to yourself.
"If you missed me you could have just said so," you tease, hoping that the ease in your voice will make him relax.
"Of course I did. Is that even a question? Are you able to take visitors?' You know what, doesn't matter. I'll just wait there until you are. I'll see you soon love."
He hangs up quickly and you know that he'll appear in the hospital within the next two seconds with that uncanny ability of his. You straighten yourself out a little, knowing that you were injured but not wanting to look like a total mess.
You can hear his footsteps running up to your door, slamming it open as he catches his breath. You've never seen him out of breath before - maybe he's much more tired than you initially thought.
"You made it," you laugh, making a slight sound from the impact of him practically jumping at you, holding you tightly as he buries his face into your neck.
"I was worried about you," he says softly, looking up at you. "I thought you'd been hurt, badly. And I wasn't there to protect you."
You sigh, helping him sit down into the chair at your bedside. You offer him your hand which he holds gratefully, never taking his eyes off of you.
"I know. I'm sorry. But look, I'm okay now, aren't I?"
He ignores the pain in his chest, trying not to imagine how heavy your hand would feel in his if you really had drawn your last breath. That weight is far too familiar to him, haunting his every thought in the hours that passed between then and now.
"You are. And I'm going to make sure you stay that way," he promises.
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Rafayel didn't even know there was an attack until far after it. He knew you were working and that sometimes, you'd accidentally go MIA. You'd already texted him before your mission anyway and then he got drawn into another project of his and completely lost track of time. It's not until the next day that he finally sees his phone and the message from Thomas telling him not to come into the city for supplies for a day or so.
He immediately starts looking through articles, scouring pages that are constantly updating the death toll in search of your face. He curses himself for not paying attention earlier - every minute he wasted on some stupid was another minute you could have spent at Death's door, all because he allowed himself to forget that nothing matters if it's not you.
It's obsessive the way he looks through all of them, calling your phone non stop all the while. Every time he gets sent to voicemail he feels his breath get knocked out of his lungs, resorting to blowing up your phone with texts. When it's clear you aren't replying he grabs his keys to drive into Linkon despite Thomas' suggestion, knuckles white on the steering wheel as he heads to the hospital.
Even in all the chaos people can't help but stare a little as Rafayel makes his way to the counter, demanding someone tell him where you were. He's really trying not to be a brat, promising you that he'd be nicer to people but when it's your life on the line everything is up for debate. He goes through any and every possibility, figuring out what he can do to guarantee your survival.
Unfortunately for him, he gets escorted out. Jenna tries to calm him down, telling him that he'd be the first to know if they had any updates on you. Right now everything was just far too messy to know anything about anyone and there was a good chance that you were just being treated at a different hospital than usual due to the high causality count. He doesn't take no for an answer and manages to strong arm the name of the other hospitals you could have been sent to, starting up his car again right as his phone lights up with your name.
"What do you think you're doing not answering your phone?!" he yells, making you flinch.
Rafayel's never been mad at you, certainly not to this extent but you know that it's because he's anxious. He immediately catches himself too and you hear it, catching the sound of his hands against his steering wheel as he takes a deep breath.
"I'm sorry. Just - where are you?" he asks, sounding so exhausted that you feel like crying.
"I'm okay Rafayel," you say instead, adding the name of your hospital. He's immediately driving over as you talk to him, keeping your voice even.
"I was split up from the group is all, then triaged at a different hospital. I'm fine though - I managed to just sprain my wrist from overexertion so I'll have a sling for a bit-"
"You're staying with me then. I'm not having you stay alone with a broken wrist. Knowing you you'd do something dumb and make it worse," he scoffs, trying his best to drive safely to see you again. You don't bother to correct him, knowing that's the least of your worries.
You fall quiet, not sure how to respond. Rafayel has always been good at masking how he feels, rarely showing you what he's hiding behind his mask. Now he's an open book, making it clear that nothing will be okay until he sees you again.
"Okay," you agree, leaning further back into the pillows of your hospital bed. "They wanted me to be released into the care of someone if I could anyway. That's why I was calling you - that, and trying to return all your missed calls."
"Thank you," he says so quietly you barely hear him over the sound of his car.
"Of course my love," you say just as softly. "I knew you'd worry as soon as you saw the news."
Another moment passes between the two of you. Rafayel thinks his heart fell out of his chest - or it would have if it was still his to hold. Instead, it's beating firmly in your palm, only able to do so under your affections.
"Rafayel, I'm really fine, I promise. I'm just hungry. Let's get something for dinner, yeah?" you offer, hoping to redirect his energy.
"Yeah," he replies, exhaling deeply.
"Anything you want my beloved. Just name it and it's yours."
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hazelfoureyes · 6 months
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I just need you to know this story has had me in a chokehold and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I am enjoying writing it. This is gonna be a weird smutty slow burn, so still smut every post but full p in v sex will be a reward you have to work for?
⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall
Part 1 - Pretty in Redsmut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedysmut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds
A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.
「warnings/tags: HumanAlastor x FemaleReader, implied attempt to SA, fingering, plot with porn?, Multi part work, bad kind of choking, blood kink, blood licking, just in general blood, Non-Sex repulsed Ace Spectrum Alastor, stalking, murder obvs, finger sucking, smoking kinda kills if you squint, Public sex acts, garter belt, You have a stage name but no one important uses it, Greed, Lust, Human Alastor is a little different than Demon Alastor. 」
minors dni 💅🏽
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Part 1 Pretty in Red
The marriage between burlesque and jazz wasn’t unexpected. Before the Great Depression took the nation into a stranglehold, both Jazz and Burlesque were immoral wastes of time only the most barbaric sought out.
And oh, did you love it. Everyone who was made to feel like nobody flocked to your theater and the surrounding neighborhood. Men, women, the people who didn’t agree with either. The biblically inclined, those closer to sodom, the sapphic dolls. Everyone was equal in the halls of jazz rooms and theatres where burlesquers were welcome.
Because of the inclusive nature of such places, you often saw familiar faces. It wouldn’t be unusual for someone from Thursday night to be seen Saturday at a different locale.
That presented certain opportunities and challenges. When you found a good mark, it was easy to be wherever he was and play it off as fate and common interests.
And when you gained a new stalker, someone wanting a personal show, it could be hard to tell until it was too late. 
Maybe it was your greed, or just your love of attention, but you found yourself focused almost entirely on a particularly well dressed man one evening. You’d seen him around before. Clean cut, sharp suit, a welcoming smile always on display. He looked like he had money, the most attractive quality of any man you could meet.
So focused on his gleaming stare from the side booths you hadn’t noticed the man at the stage front tables. You barely noticed him the night before, or the night before that, either. Because Smiles, as you took to calling the handsome stranger in the back, had been here three nights now too.
You really put on a show. Shimmying your hips, ostrich feathers following suit with every move. Your brassiere was heavy with shining rhinestones, panties of silk and lace. Your set was almost done, all that was left was to remove your top and slink away behind the curtains to hollers and whistles. Back turned, you unhooked the painful bra and let it fall to the stage with a clunk. Foot in front of foot, you stalked the stage length. With your hand hidden from view you took the feathered fan from the stagehand behind the curtain. As the music crescendoed you turned, fan unfurling just in time to hide yourself.
Groans, mass begging from the audience. Your stage name a chant now, a prayer. “Autumn! Come on!”
As the band slowed, music dying to mark the end of your number, you scanned the crowd. Eyes blinking coyly, you mouthed, “More? Did you want more?”
People were jumping to their feet, not Smiles but that was fine, you were focused now on the adoration of the crowd. The music ended, a second of silence. 
You winked, the drums hitting one last beat as you let the fan close.
Fanfare! Men whistling, women clapping. Someone shouted a marriage proposal. You took a bow, twirled on the balls of your feet and slipped gracefully behind the curtains.
Your hands wound to your spine, rubbing blood flow back into your skin as the staff removed your headdress. Someone slipped your robe over you and you nodded a thanks, aching feet carrying you to the dressing room. It was chaos, as usual. Women buzzing around, tits and ass here and there. You smiled. You happened to enjoy this part of the job. Soft bodies in shiny costumes, lovely smells and sweet voices. If you could get dressed quickly enough, you could still take a tour of the room and slide into Smiles’ booth. 
“Enjoy the show?” You’d ask. He’d lean in, maybe blush, “Always when you’re here.” Or something like that. You’d cozy up to him, flag down a waiter for something strong and pricey, and get him properly drunk. He’d wake up outside, fine and dandy except his missing cash. 
You’ll call him a drunkard if he confronts you, accuse him of getting himself robbed after you refused his advances. You’ll say it too loudly, and he’ll run off. 
You danced a little in your seat, another game of cat and mouse about to commence. But first, a smoke.
Unbeknownst to you, the well dressed man hadn’t come to see you. He preferred your singing shows at the little dive bar two blocks over. No, he had come for the man at the front table. For weeks now, he had watched him harassing the ladies of the few joints in New Orleans that weren’t regularly hounded by police. Your smiley mark even heard stories of unsavory acts, many women leaving the dance scene entirely after.
He didn’t care for it. He didn’t care for him. So he took to his hunt, following the man to come to his own conclusions. The pattern of behavior was obvious, and though he hadn’t seen what ended the last obsession, it was clear one of the performers at this club was being stalked as the next victim. 
He watched your dance with half lidded eyes, just as much as he watched the man give dirty looks to the other men cheering. Heard the, “Marry me!” shouted at you.
Yes, it was obvious to him now. 
So when the target of his interest got up and pushed his way into a staff only door, well, the well dressed man was sure to follow. 
The great thing about confidence and a nicely tailored suit is that no one questions you about why you are where you are. So while the brute he tailed had to shove past people to get wherever he was going, people smiled and made room for the gentleman who was not far behind.
He caught the street access door before it closed, allowing it to stay open just a sliver. Enough for one golden brown eye to watch the events unfold.
“Can I have a light?” The stranger asked you. You looked at him, then to the staff only entrance he just came out of. 
“I don’t think I know you….,” you handed him the lighter but he instead leaned into you, cigarette hanging from his lips. “You… new?”
You sparked the flint with a practiced thumb, taking three tries to get it lit, and put your hand out. The man didn’t budge, eyebrows rising, “You really don’t recognize me?” He asked, motioning with his hand to come closer. Your eyes glanced down the alley, cars slowly moving past the street. When you looked back, the man took your wrist in his hand. He held you so tightly that the muscles in your palm locked and you dropped the lighter. 
“What the fu-,” his hand came across your face, halting your sentence.
“I’m your best customer. Every show. I’m the one who brings flowers.”
Dozens of men bring flowers, especially on the weekend shows. You held your cheek, skin burning. Your hand pulled back, the corner of your lip bleeding from his rings. Scrambling, your mind was searching for the right words.
With a forced smiled, your shaky voice finally piped up, “Oh! Yeah! Oh geez. I am so sorry, doll. I’m just so tired, and the alley is so dark. Here, let’s go inside so I can get a better look at you.” You tried to take your wrist from him but he didn’t loosen up.
“Nah, you ain’t tricking me. You owe me.” He pulled you into him, large hand gripping your face with ease, “You can’t lead on men like this and think you don’t gotta answer for it.” He kissed you, forcing your face into his. “Bitch! Did you fucking bite me?” He threw you into the tin trash cans beside the wall, knocking the wind out of you. 
No purse, no sharp object, not even a heeled shoe to defend yourself with. You cursed, so preoccupied with Smiles you forgot your wits.
You spit out the copper saliva, his blood and yours. “I’ll keep biting, too.” 
Why scream? The sounds of the next act were bouncing off the brick walls. Upbeat jazz and applause echoing around you. No one would hear you. Men can break your body but you never had to give them your dignity. Never give them the satisfaction of a response.
No. No screaming. You instead spent your energy trying to get to your feet. He took hold of your neck now, throttling you. It wasn’t what you had expected, but as he lifted you off the ground and your little dressing room slippers fell off, you thought this was actually better. 
“Well I think that’s quite enough.”
You felt warmth, then registered wetness. Your shin scraped on the asphalt as you were dropped without warning. Trying to open your eyes, you found you couldn’t see. Wiping and blinking away the foreign liquid, you watched your attacker fall to his knees.
Blood was shooting from between his fingers around his own neck, each pulse becoming weaker and weaker, evident through the stream.
When he finally fell over, drained, you were startled to see another man with you. The light reflected off his glasses as he adjusted them, the knife still in his right hand as he did so. 
“My, my. What a mess he’s made.” The man smiled down at you, offering a hand. When you didn’t immediately react, he cocked his head to the left, “Is that anyway to treat your rescuer?”
Is that was this was? A rescue? You took his hand with both of yours, pulling yourself up. 
Smiles? You blinked away the shock, time to shift into your next part. Damsel. You weren’t out the woods yet.
“You saved my life!” As you pressed yourself into his chest, you tucked your head beneath his chin. You tried to make yourself small. “I owe you! Please let’s go inside, drinks on me!” You looked up, batting your lashes.
“I don’t think that’s wise, dear.” His gaze panned down your dress, soaked through. He could see the thinking behind your eyes.
“No, right….,” You gripped his vest, “We gotta get outta here, fast. There’s a hotel just behind the threatre.” You started to pull his suit jacket off, slipping it over yourself. “No cops, the theatre will get raided. Just— take me somewhere safe?”
You watched him look you over, arm finally extending to let you hook yours with his. 
As soon as the hotel door closed behind you, you slipped off his jacket and ran to the dressing table mirror. 
Your face was painted red, navy dress now black and sticky. It was good you stayed from view of the reception staff. “I didn’t get my rescuer’s name,” you licked your thumb and rubbed at the blood around your cheeks. 
“Alastor. It’s a pleasure.”
You laughed, “Is that what you call a pleasure?” Turning, you pulled the mostly still dry handkerchief from your pocket and dabbed the corner on your tongue. You brought it up to the frame of his glasses and wiped the blood from the metal. “I’d hate to see what you call a bad time.”
Your hand slowed, noticing the way he was looking at you. Typically men’s pupils were blown when they fell on you, but his were constricted. They flitted around your face. His hand took hold of yours, fingers separating the thumb from the handkerchief. He pulled the little square of yellow fabric free with his other hand, allowing him to hold your thumb now by itself.
His lips opened, tongue licking the blood stained finger before placing it directly into his mouth.
Your stared, horrified, as he sucked the digit clean. 
His eyes fluttered close, finger popping out of his mouth with a debauched sound. You made no attempt to take back your hand. The realization you may have hopped out of the frying pan and into the fire set in.
“You are a funny one, aren’t you?” You tried to sound as in control as possible. Calm. Unwavered. Offered a timid smile. 
He chuckled, “You could say that. May I?” His fingers lifted your chin. You didn’t know what he was asking. His soft smile looked downright loving. He smelled so good, notes of something earthy rising above the copper.
You nodded, because part of you wanted to see where it would go. And part of you thought you didn’t have a choice.
As his face came to yours, you instinctually closed your eyes expecting a kiss. But no, instead you felt his tongue wipe across the cut at the corner of your mouth. His breath blanketed your cheek. Then his hand left your chin, the warmth of his body gone entirely. 
You opened your eyes to see him at the door, slipping back into his jacket, “I’ll pay for the night.” He tipped his head to you and exited the room back first, eyes locked with yours until the door closed.
You just stood there in the silence left behind. But as if on cue, the adrenaline waned and your knees buckled under you. You were moments from death, now somehow spared. But what had he— Alastor, been doing there? Did he follow you, too? The cat and mouse had been flipped, or perhaps now this was a fox and hound?
Gripping the dressing table, you pulled yourself up and into the view of the mirror again. Face streaked in dried blood save for the one clean spot where your lips met cheek. 
You felt like a ghost the next day. It would be nice to tell someone about what happened but, “Hey a man tried to kill me and then another man killed him! Then he licked blood off my face and I let him. It was the most disturbingly erotic thing to happen to me in months!” would get you tossed into a wagon. 
“Are you rude or just stupid?” The theatre manager pulled you aside by the arm when you came into rehearsal. “You can’t just disappear like that, people were waiting.”
Your eyes narrowed, “Was… my absence really the most exciting part of the evening? Not the John in the gutter?”
He huffed, “So that’s it? Got a beau?”
“Wait— nothing else happened last night? After I left?” 
“This show doesn’t revolve around you. Plenty happened.”
“Excuse me,��� you hurried into the back, “And sorry!”
You opened the street access door and looked into the alley. Trash cans neat and tidy, no dead man, nothing strange or telltale.
You ducked back inside. Had Smiles done this? Obviously, actually. No stranger just cleaned up the dead body. If the flatfeet had found him, the club would have been under scrutiny.
Good, you thought, and went about your work.
Rehearsal dragged on. Little details summoning you back to the night before. 
“You okay?” Another performer asked, grabbing your hand and inspecting the blood around your cuticles.
“Oh it’s not mine!” You laughed, she laughed, you walked off before she could clarify.
When applying your makeup, you remembered his hands on your face. They were so soft. Definitely a man of means. A brief intrusive thought, the other hands on your face last night.
You pranced on stage, going through the motions of your routine. Even in the empty hall, your eyes wandered to the booth he’d been in. And as you took the stage in earnest later that night you searched the crowd for the glint of his glasses and found nothing shiny nor promising.
Back in the dressing room you took a moment to wonder what the actual fuck you we’re doing. He murdered a man in front of you, why were you hoping to see him again? He had half a mind to kill you next.
But would that really be so bad?  Your life was routine, boring even. The only thing keeping your lungs expanding was the applause. Maybe the headlines of your death would cause such an uproar, dancer struck down in her prime, that you could bask in the loving glow all the way from hell.
One way to remain famous, you considered. A dramatic death.
Not that you were famous. You weren’t part of the national circuits. Just your local theatres, a common face and body to the sinners of Louisiana’s most infamous city. But, well, fame is relative. For the scene you were in, you were your own little star. 
A shining light. Shimmering. The faint light reflecting off— Blood. For a second you could only remember looking through bloodied, heavy lashes. 
“You’ve been so out of it. Trouble in paradise?” Ruth, the curviest of your coworkers and arguably the favorite of the crew, rested her chin on your head. Looking at each other in the mirror, you offered a soft smile.
“I’ll letcha know when I get there.”
She pinched your cheek, “Tommy said you had a new guy. I just figured-,”
“That isn’t,” you clenched your eyes shut, “no, no guy. I just got locked out last night in the alley. The sticky-,” sticky and viscous blood, “back door wouldn’t open up. I didn’t want to come in the front in my slippers so I just hoofed it home.” 
She patted your head, “if you say so! Be careful out there though. Dangerous these days.” 
An understatement.
You enjoyed the spotlight, but more than that you craved the attention doted on you after. You’d walk through the hall to the bar to adoring looks and free drinks. It bothered you that Tommy was telling the girls you had a man. You didn’t want to appear too closed off, or for word to spread to the customers. 
Last thing you needed was men passing you by for more available options. Not that the pay wasn’t fine. Ends were being met, but grifting added an element of thrill. You really did love the chase. Finding someone and deciding he would be yours, he would fall under your spell and be at your feminine mercy. It made you feel powerful, almost mythical. And the money was nice. Sometimes you didn’t even need to steal, the men would just lavish you in gifts and you’d let it fizzle out naturally. Normally their wives would snatch them back or they’d just get tired of waiting for you to leave the stage and dance into their domestic dreams. A housewife? An adopted mother to a grown man during the day, a hungry nymph at night? For what, an allowance and a home you didn’t own? Pass. Where’s that handsome man with his knife? That was a much better steel to fall onto than what these men offered from their laps.
From your view at the bar you knew he wasn’t there. But with a nod you decided the chase was still on. You were going to get your victory. If anything, this would be easier. You had dirt on him. Blackmail would be simple enough. Bloody clothes and the perfect alibi; being a woman. No cop would think you took down that hulking man. 
Ah, right. There was no body.
That would be an issue. He had to have taken it somewhere. Just find him and follow. Worst case scenario, you play the usual game and steal whatever cash was in his wallet.
Well, worst case you die. 
You slept sitting up to keep your hair set, during the day your makeup barely was there but a red lip always the star. You had three nice dresses (well, you had had four) so you figured three nights to find him before moving on.
You slinked through the crowds of the hot and sweaty dance club Moxie. Swinging music kept bodies moving, and though you kept your eyes open you didn’t catch sight of this Alastor fellow. Which was fine! You enjoyed a few dances, swing always making you feel energized. Not a waste of a Friday night.
Saturday was easy, the lounge on fifth. Smooth jazz, plush chairs, rich men. Definitely a place you could imagine Smiles to frequent. The whisky was all top shelf, and many gentlemen offered you a lap to sit. Sure, no Alastor, but you didn’t go home empty handed.
You weren’t a particularly great singer, but if the room was small enough and the piano loud enough, you could please a crowd. Your friend had you on a semi-set schedule most Sundays at her little dive too many blocks from Main Street. Her darling played piano, you sat and sang to the couple dozen patrons stuffed into the one room bar. When you finished your set, you took your bows and looked for your friend. You needed to tell her you wouldn’t be staying. 
Your polite nods and gracious thank yous were abruptly ended by a tap on your shoulder, “You dropped this, miss.” You did a mental check of your purse before turning around.
“Oh, a sight for sore eyes. Mr. Alastor.” Your face lit up, you could see it in his glasses.
“You’re too kind. Here, I apologize for the delay. I wanted to return them clean.” In his hand was your yellow handkerchief, folded neatly. You took it and found it uncharacteristically heavy. 
When you unfurled it, your brass lighter fell into your waiting palm. Your thumb caressed the engraving. 
Alastor watched your face as the lighter tumbled out. “I figured it was important, given the condition and detailing.”
You tested the weight in your hand, “Did you fill it?” You looked to him incredulously.  He nodded.
It was a surprisingly kind act, and you needed a second to regain your composure. “I don’t know how to thank you.” Your quick wit failed for a moment, but rebounded fast. “Except with a drink. My treat. To my rescuer.”
He mulled the idea, your reaction to him was interesting. Alastor had thought if he approached you first you’d show a little more fear, or shock. But you looked downright chipper to see him there. 
“Unfortunately I don’t have much time tonight. I had just wanted to return your items.”
Your smile dropped. How did he know you were here? Had he been carrying— no, he said he had them cleaned. Had he seen you here before, before the incident? A chuckle, smile brought back, “My luck is terrible. You always flee me. I hope you don’t see my company as deadweight.”
Alastor’s smile twitched, eyes hidden behind the glare of his glasses, “Not at all! I think you’d find I’m quite comfortable with-.”
“Lugging people around?” You said. That constricted pupil again, eyes wild. A chill ran down your spine. Alarms were going off. Wrong answer. You straightened your back, popping the items into your purse, “Next time.”
Alastor nodded, “Yes. Next time, then.”
You fucked it up. You knew you had, but suddenly his words felt like a thinly veiled threat. 
You turned to leave and hadn’t seen his smile sour.
It hadn’t been a threat. He hadn’t anticipated you to notice the implication. Most people would have been so blinded by his charm they would fail to notice the glaring red flags. He was mildly impressed. You would be more trouble than he had expected.
Alastor knew he needed to do something about the clearly clever woman who was seemingly expecting him. He had followed you for several days, surprised to find you not spreading word about the murder. You hadn’t spoken to anyone, really. Even the man you left the lounge with, you just smiled and nodded nearly all evening while the man dominated the conversation. So, your sharp wit took him off guard. Who were you pretending to be? And why?
All of your cleverness fell apart when you tried to follow him. It was almost comical. He felt bad. This was going to be embarrassing for you.
He took several right turns and stepped into the park just outside of the bar. You thought perhaps he had gotten lost and considered turning around after you realized you’d lost sight of him. As you passed a large weeping willow, you were pulled under the curtains of hanging moss by your waist.
Back against the large tree, you could only pout.
“What are you after, stalking a man in the dead of night?” Alastor had you pinned, both hands on either side of your head. His body boxed you in, not that there was much more to see than moss and darkness.
You blinked several times. What a question. You answered honestly, “You.” He cocked a brow. Then you lied, “Your affection. Your time.”
Something akin to a giggle bubbled from his chest. “I don’t have much affection, but I have even less time.” Your eyes darted around, looking for your next move. “I-,” you grabbed him by the face and kissed him. When you broke the kiss he was staring wide eyed, glasses askew. He opened his mouth to speak and you kissed him again, longer, harder.
He seemed frozen under your mouth, lips taut. Your hands roamed his face, messing up his hair and glasses. Mind reeling. Play the nymph. Be the whore the men always said they hated. Be too strong, too forward, too much and he’ll run off like men do. You could try again another day.
Your hand reached for his lap, his hips instinctively jerking away. Perfect. Men these days can’t get it up for a woman who takes the lead. 
Alastor was entirely unsure what the fuck was happening. You were wildly unpredictable. When you grabbed at his dick, he thought his eyes would cross from the shock. Is this what ‘affection’ meant to you? He couldn’t understand it. Couldn’t understand you. Were you really just lustful? Even after what you’d seen him—
You bit at his bottom lip, pulling slightly. Big eyes looking back at him. Your breath was already running away from you, adrenaline seemingly synonymous with Alastor. Staring up at him, you waited. His move.
It was his turn to blink. He looked off to his left, eyes swinging back to you. With a shrug, he leaned his body back towards yours. His hand slid down the front of your dress; red silk. A deer in the headlights, you tensed. The rare third option; fight, flight, freeze. Soon his fingers were tracing the lace of your stockings, climbing up the garter straps. 
His eyes were studying your face. You didn’t want to give the wrong answer again, but at this point you weren’t sure any answer was right. This was taking a sudden turn and your foot was off the brake. You closed your eyes, opting out of the scrutiny of his stare. His hand met your stomach and began to slip down again. He rested it between your thighs, longer fingers and palm cupping the entirety of your sex.
Alastor struggled to decipher your expression. It was almost like a pout, but more subtle. You hadn’t said stop or pushed him away yet. Was he right? You were just… horny? As his hand slid back up and pried their way into your panties, you trembled.
It had been so long since someone else’s hand was on you. Someone whose hands you genuinely enjoyed, who you wanted to be on you.
Is that right? You wanted him to touch you? 
Maybe it was the stare, or the smile. Probably just the adrenaline.
His hand found its place again, middle finger bending to part your folds and feel your wetness. You whimpered, hand coming to cover your own mouth. 
“Is this what you wanted?” He said it low, a husky tone he didn’t have before.
No. Maybe. You nodded yes.
“Will you be satisfied now? No more tailing me?”
No. Probably not. Another nod.
His finger pushed in, and with a kind of greed you didn't recognize your hips ground down into his palm. He slipped in and out of you with ease. You had no idea when or why you got so wet.
“I always end up dripping around you, Alastor,” you whispered through your fingers. His ring finger joined. Why couldn’t you shut up? Why did you have to bring up, well, the murder?
“A common problem for those I take an interest in.” 
Oh no. You moaned softly into your hand. Sharp mind made dull by his fingers so you didn’t, couldn’t, process his double meaning. 
Oh no. The sounds of footsteps, a pair of lovers sneaking into the park for privacy. You heard their giggles, the sounds of kisses interrupting their walking.
“Shhh”, he breathed into your ear as he worked a third finger into your heat. One knuckle, two knuckles. A whimper. His hand came to press down over your own on your mouth, a second barrier for your mewling. You groaned, the sound coming from your throat.  
Whispers. The silhouette of the two interlopers was visible through the willow’s curtains. You watched from over his shoulder, pussy clenching around him. Three knuckles deep, bottoming out.
Fuck it. You moaned freely into your hand, wiggling down onto his hand. Hips rolling, you let your little sounds of praise flow.
The couple laughed, “That’s the spirit!” A man said, a woman hushing him and pulling him away.
Alastor grinned into your neck, immensely amused. He would have better luck predicting a dice roll than your next move. 
You hadn’t realized how hollow you’d been until now, feeling so full. When alone, you focused on just cumming, fingers on your clit and mind on memories. You never bothered much with anything else.
Your hunger intensified. You wanted more. Both hands reached for his crotch again, finding nothing there for you. You could have cried. How were you a wet mess pressed against a tree and he was soft as a newspaper in a rainstorm?
Your pride stung. Men usually stood at attention around you. A half sob into the air earned you a chuckle from Alastor. “It’s no reflection of you, darling.” His nose nudged your ear lobe, “I need a little different stimulation than most.”
“Do you play for the other team?” You considered how you could momentarily switch. 
A louder laugh, “I don’t have a team.” He leaned back now to look at you. His freehand came to press on your lower stomach, gently pushing your womb down. Your brows knit, why did that feel so good? Hands going to the tree behind you for stability.
“Sure feels like you know how to play. This is-,” his hand switched from thrusting slowly in and out to moving front and back. It sent vibrations up into you. Your eyes rolled close. Shut up. Stop talking. Focus. Close.
He kissed around your open mouth, “Well, it’d be unamerican to not dabble. When necessary, or when the conditions are right.”
Double speak over, “Just tell me what to do to get you to fuck me.”
Alastor’s head fell back as he laughed earnestly, most likely alerting anyone in the immediate area. “Ha! No, this is more fun.”
“Oh fuck you,” you brought a hand around to your throbbing clit to quicken your release.
“Maybe next time, dear.” He took a second, fingers in you sliding around your walls in search of something before finding his place and continuing. Your breath noticeably changed, instead of panting you were practically holding it in. You needed the pressure, you needed something to squeeze that spring of pleasure down so it could snap back. As your face went flush, he kissed at your temple, “You look so pretty in red.”
“Oh god-,” Your head fell onto his chest, your joint effort bringing you to orgasm. 
“A little late on Sunday for prayers, don't you think?”
A tiny scream into his suit pocket, his hand not stopping until your thighs finished twitching around him. Even after his hand stopped moving you gripped him by the wrist and rolled onto his fingers a few more times. The pleasure ebbing but still spiking every time he moved against you. 
Ah, greed. That was it. He understood a little better. This wasn’t lust, not alone.  You were definitely a mix of the two. With a sigh, you released your hold and let him slide out of you. Already you felt lonelier. Already you wished to start over.
With his dry hand he smoothed out your dress. You weren’t ashamed but you suddenly felt too embarrassed to look him the eye. But you did, hearing him hum as he sucked his fingers clean. 
Why were you only ever in his mouth in the strangest ways?
“You always taste so sweet, dear. Now!” You wanted to say something clever and salacious like, ‘there’s more where that came from’ but he didn’t afford you the opportunity. He offered you his hooked arm, “It’s dangerous in the park at night. Let’s get you to a cab and on your way home.”
“Is this a hobby of yours?” Your legs were wobbly but otherwise fine. “Illegal activities in public?”
“Funny, I was just wondering the same of you. Stalking is a crime, dear.”
You bit your lip. “Touché.”
He flagged down a taxi, “Tell him where to go.” You slid into the back seat and half-whispered to the driver. Alastor leaned into the passenger side front window and after paying the man, went to close your door, “You’ve been an entertaining sparring partner. Goodbye, sweetheart.”
With a thud of the door and a growl of the engine, you were driving away from him. You could see him in the rear window. He didn’t dare to move, he didn’t need you following another step of his.
Which was unfortunate for him, as you were already scheming how to find him again.
༻Masterlist༺
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):
@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,
@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @angelicwillows
🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions
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I’m so glad the Guillermo Del Toro Pinocchio movie is being received really well, because it was literally my most anticipated movie of the year! So here’s some fun facts about the crew, concept, and production that got me excited about this movie and that I think would excite much of tumblr as well:
-the screenplay was cowritten by Del Toro and Patrick McHale, creator of Over The Garden Wall and a writer on Adventure Time.
-the movie was codirected by Mark Gustasfon, who was the animation director of Wes Anderson’s Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009)
-the primary art/animation designers of this movie (production designer Curt Enderle, art director Robert DeSue, character designer Georgina Hayns, animation supervisor Brian Leif Hansen, and photography director Frank Passingham) previously worked on projects that include Coraline, the Corpse Bride, Paranorman, Isle of Dogs, Frankenweenie, Kubo, and Chicken Run.
-Besides Netflix, it was produced by the Henson company (always a good sign when you’re doing anything with puppets) and ShadowMachine, who have produced a lot of Adult Swim shows including Robot Chicken, Moral Orel, and Tuca and Bertie, as well as the Netflix original BoJack Horseman.
-Del Toro was inspired to make this adaptation due to the similarities he’d always noticed between the original Pinocchio story and Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. Both are about a man-made character’s relationship with his father/creator, and his attempts to understand what it means to be human. This inspiration is why the film takes on a gothic feel at times.
-the movie is over 10 years in the making. Del Toro announced the project in 2008 and production began in 2012, but it went into development hell and no further updates were made for several years. Del Toro has described it as his passion project, saying "I've wanted to make this movie for as long as I can remember.”
-the backdrop of Mussolini’s Italy was intended to show how Pinnochio was able to find his own humanity and will in a time where everyone else was acting like a blindly obedient puppet. Del Toro wanted to deviate from the original book’s themes of obeying authority by making his Pinocchio virtuous for questioning the rules and forging his own set of morals. (Also if you know anything about Del Toro, the guy likes to dunk on fascism.)
-Del Toro didn’t feel the need to have Pinocchio become flesh-and-blood at the end of the movie, saying all you need to be a real human is to behave like one.
I was lucky enough to see this movie in 35 mm in a movie theatre on Thanksgiving weekend. If there are any movie theatre showings near you and you’re in a position to be able to attend them, I would totally recommend it especially if you can go with loved ones. It was a gorgeous, heartwarming, and magical movie to experience on a big screen and perfect for the late fall/winter holiday season.
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oddinary4bts · 1 month
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Chasing Cars | ch 15 (jjk)
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☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)
☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
☆warnings: cursing, mentions of taehyung getting slapped, alcohol, a haunted house (and a clown), fear of someone possibly committing the irreparable, confessions <3, explicit content: implied penetrative sex
☆word count: 7.4k
☆a/n: finally the end of the angst :') hope you guys enjoy <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3
☆series masterpost
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
☆☆☆☆☆
Friday, October 11th
You don’t think you’ve slept. You’ve lied in bed all night, chasing the smell of Jungkook from last night on your sheets. You hoped he’d reappear, materialize here in this room where you and him always made sense, but he stays gone, and you stay alone. 
Lonely, like the moon in the sky up above. 
The morning is grey, colourless. The sun rises like it didn’t care about you and Jungkook, like its heart perhaps never imploded on itself. But yours has, the second you had to watch Jungkook walking out of the door.
He’d closed the door softly behind him, and you’d turned towards Taehyung. You’d seethed, “I fucking hate you”, through your teeth, and Taehyung had offered you a sad, apologetic stare.
“You’ll understand that this is the best for you,” he’d said, and you’d walked up to him and slapped him, hard enough for your hand to sting.
He’d taken it, barely even flinching, and as his cheek had reddened, you’d said, “You should have fucking stayed in Paris.”
And then you’d fled to your room, and he’d let you do it.
It was the first time you’ve ever slapped him - or anyone, for that matter - and you really hope it’ll be the last. Perhaps because it came from such ugly feelings, from heartbreak and betrayal and everything in between, and it raged through you only to leave a pathetic shrivelled shape behind.
You’d meant it last night - you miss Jungkook. And you miss him more than ever now, as you’re faced with the irreversibility of your falling out.
Ariane came back home after you’ve gone to bed last night. You heard her walking in, heard her speaking to Taehyung in the living room before the sounds faded as they moved to their room. And as you lied there, you’d wondered, why did Taehyung even come back home so early?
Why couldn’t he stay at the movie theatre long enough for you and Jungkook to fix your relationship? Long enough to have that much needed conversation, long enough so you’d never said that last night was a lapse of judgment?
You regretted the words the moment they were out. You don’t think you truly meant them - yesterday night was heaven on Earth, a step out of time to a past you were trying to move on from.
This morning, you know you’ll never be able to move on from Jungkook. Not when your feelings for him were strong enough to make you hate the one person who always cared for you, who always was there for you growing up.
Because with the grey light of dawn you realize that you do truly hate Taehyung. You don’t think you’ll be able to see him again without blowing up in his face, so you remain hidden in your room as he and Ariane get up. He doesn’t text you if you want breakfast, doesn’t say anything at all.
You think it’s a relief - you don’t have it in you to fight anymore.
Jungkook hasn’t texted you either. You’ve debated sending him a message for most of the night, but you haven’t figured out what. You reckon he might need space after last night, after the roller coaster of emotions that everything was, and so you think it might be okay if you haven’t texted him yet.
You rub the tiredness out of your eyes, sighing deeply as the sounds in the apartment fade when Taehyung and Ariane leave for their morning classes. You get out of bed then, putting on clothes before you head to the kitchen.
Taehyung left you a plate of eggs and bacon on the table, with a scribbled note next to it. I’m sorry is all that’s written, and you wonder if Ariane forced him to write it.
It’s unlike Taehyung to ever apologize for anything after all. You crumple the piece of paper, throw it out in the recycling bin, and then eat the food even though it’s gone cold since Taehyung left it there. It’s still food, and though your appetite doesn’t show up, you still manage to eat half of it.
You text Nabi that you won’t make it to class before heading back to your room, the heaviness of everything that happened in the last twelve hours catching up to you. You feel bone-deep exhausted, and you hide underneath the covers of your bed, tears pricking at your eyes.
It’s nothing new - you’ve been crying on and off since Jungkook left last night, and that, most of all, must have been the reason why sleep evaded you all night long.
You grab your phone, quickly moving to your text message app. You find Jungkook’s conversation, rereading his text from September.
[09/08/24] JK: hey.. do you want to talk?
You’d ignored it then, but today, you find yourself in his position. Find yourself writing a message similar to the one he’d sent, and you reread it a thousand times before you find the courage to press send.
[9:37 am] You: i’m sorry about what i said last night. can we talk?
Anxiety flushes through you as the message delivers. It’s adrenaline in your blood, and you remain on the conversation for five minutes, hoping Jungkook might reply right away.
He doesn’t. As a matter of fact, he doesn’t reply all morning, and you busy yourself by going back to the dorms, not wanting to stay at the apartment knowing that Taehyung is going to come back eventually. 
You find the dorm room to be empty, which you reckon is a relief. You don’t think you’d have the strength to see anyone right now, not when the exhaustion is almost enough to make you crumple on yourself.
You end up taking a nap for most of the afternoon, waking  up drenched in sweat from a nightmare you forget the second your eyes open.
Perhaps the presence of Nabi and Ria, sitting on Ria’s bed next to you, contributes to your forgetfulness after all.
“Morning,” Ria teases.
You frown, shutting your eyes again as you hide your face in Nabi’s pillow. “Morning,” you mumble in reply.
“Why’d you miss class this morning?” Nabi asks.
You let out a noncommittal sound.
The mattress dips next to you as someone sits there. “What’s wrong?” Ria asks.
The tears are spilling over a second later, and you tell them everything. You tell them how your conversation with Ria yesterday inspired you to do the same thing with Jungkook, but that you never got the chance to tell him how you feel. You tell them about Taehyung, about Jungkook leaving without a single look back. You tell them about the text that sits unanswered on your phone, and you tell them you’re tired, oh so tired.
Ria runs a soothing hand on your back through it all, while Nabi says she’ll go buy ice cream. You sit with Ria in silence for a while, before glancing at her.
“I hope things went better between you and Seokjin,” you say, voice rough from all the crying you’ve done.
She offers you an apologetic smile. “It did. But we don’t have to speak about it right now.”
You take a deep breath, wiping your cheeks dry even though you haven’t shed a tear in a few minutes. “No,” you say after. “Tell me everything. I just need to stop thinking about Jungkook for a while.”
There’s a knock on the door, startling the two of you. Ria throws you a quizzical look and then gets up to open the door. 
Yoongi’s on the other side, a six-pack of beer in hands. “Nabi said to meet you guys here,” he says to Ria, then looks behind her to see you sitting on the bed. You must look like hell, because he lets out, “Shit.” 
It makes you laugh, and then you pat the bed next to you. “No clue if beer mixes well with ice cream, but come here.”
Yoongi grins, and then he walks in, kicking off his shoes. Turns out beer does not mix well with ice cream, as you find out half an hour later when Nabi’s returned with a one-liter tub of vanilla ice cream with fudge ripples in it.  The two tastes clash in your mouth, but you shrug it off.
It’s Friday evening, and though Jungkook still hasn’t replied, you want to have fun with your friends. And you really try to - Ria drags you all to a board game bar near campus, and you play as you drink and eat your fill.
You’re walking home, arms hooked with the girls while Yoongi leads the way, when your phone buzzes in your pocket. You can’t see who’s texted you, but your heart picks up its pace, like it knows.
“Thank you for tonight,” you say to no one in particular.
Yoongi looks over his shoulder. “You suck at board games.”
He bursts out laughing as you let out an offended sound, and Ria and Nabi pull you back as you try to jump on Yoongi. 
“You’re a dick!”
He just laughs harder, until everyone joins in. 
Until joy pierces the clouds in your mind, and weight seems to be lifted from your shoulders. You feel lighter - who needs a man when you have your friends?
“For real though,” you say once the laughter subsides. “I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.”
Nabi rests her head on your shoulder. “Good thing that you don’t have to live without us.”
“You’re such a sentimental drunk,” Ria teases, yet she pecks your cheek all the same. “Love you, bitch.”
“Love you too.”
Later, when you’re about to hop in the shower at the dorms, you finally look at your phone. You’d all but forgotten the earlier buzzing, but the message that waits for you is a bomb awaiting explosion, and you think it explodes right in your chest.
[11:26 pm] JK: i honestly don’t think we should talk rn. sorry
You swallow the rumbles of your beating organ, but they cut on the way down until you’re bleeding out standing there, naked save for the flip flops on your feet.
The clouds come back to your head, thickening until all light seems gone.
[11:58 pm] You: okay… i really am sorry
Jungkook never replies to that, and you cry yourself to sleep that night.
Sunday, October 13th 
Each year like clockwork a fair comes into town around Halloween. It’s a fair of light and music, games and plush toys to be won, with a haunted house and a corn maze. It’s not exactly in town - it’s a fifteen-minute drive from the outskirts of town, but Namjoon has a car, and so does Seokjin.
You technically do too, but you left it to Taehyung when you moved to the dorms. 
You get there with Nabi and Namjoon, Yoongi riding in the backseat with you. Ria and Seokjin are going to get there later, which you think is a good thing.
They have months of catching up to do, and you can’t blame them for wanting to be alone. Especially not when you see just how much Ria has been glowing the last few days.
You have to park the car in a field, and you’re glad you chose to wear your frat party shoes - the field is muddy from yesterday night’s rain. Nabi complains about it, and Namjoon immediately offers her a piggyback ride to cross a large puddle of mud.
You turn to Yoongi.
“Can I piggyback you too?” you ask, lips jutting out in a small pout.
He snorts. “No.”
You roll your eyes, though you chuckle as he walks around the puddle as best as he can. It’s useless - there’s mud everywhere, and your shoes are entirely dirty by the time you make it to the fair grounds. You head to the ticket booth, though you have to wait in line for a while before you manage to finally get in.
“I want a plushie,” you say the second you see the first game a little while later.
It’s a game where you have to throw rings on the necks of glass bottles. Your friends follow you to it, and you’re quick to make a competition of who’s going to succeed the most. To your surprise, it ends up being Nabi, and she wins a small dragon plushie that she gives to you immediately.
You cradle it to your chest as you make your way to the next game, though your heart drops to your ass when your gaze connects with Taehyung’s as he stands next to the stand.
“Nope,” you let out, turning around to head in the other direction.
“What?” Yoongi asks, but he soon falls into step with you. “Y/n, what’s wrong?”
“Just saw my asshole of a brother, and I have no interest in talking to him tonight,” you explain as your heart races in your chest from newfound adrenaline. “Or ever, to be honest.”
Yoongi winces. “Can’t blame you.” He looks behind you, nudging you with an elbow. “We’re clear though. He didn’t follow.”
You nod, stopping to glance behind yourself too. Nabi and Namjoon are nowhere to be seen, but you think it’s okay - at least you’ve got Yoongi. And Yoongi is a fun partner, though he beats you in most of the games you end up playing with him. He makes you laugh, and you think that’s what’s most important right now.
To have fun with your friends, lest your heart runs back to a doe-eyed boy who’s decided to leave you in the past.
“Want to do the haunted house?” you suggest to Yoongi.
He seems unconvinced, yet he still says, “Sure.”
Seokjin and Ria find you in line for the haunted house, joining you in the middle while apologizing to the people behind you, though they barely even pay attention to you. You hold a smile in at the sight of their entwined hands, and you nudge Yoongi to point towards it.
He rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The smile freezes on his face a second later, and you glance in the direction he’s looking.
It’s the guy from the reception at the gym. He recognizes you, and you wave hello as Yoongi turns beet red next to you.
“Want to go talk to him?” you say, wiggling your brows.
“You say a single other word, and I’m going to murder you,” Yoongi says through gritted teeth.
“Damn,” Ria lets out. “Someone’s angry.”
Yoongi scoffs, though his cheeks remain fully flushed up until you make it to the front of the line. It fades when you walk into the haunted house, though you think it might be because a clown jumps in his face the second you walk in.
Yoongi raises his fists in a defensive stance, and you burst out laughing as the clown moves to Ria, who shrieks so loud you wouldn’t be surprised if she ripped your eardrums.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to punch them,” you tease Yoongi.
He glares at you in the dim light. “Maybe I should punch you.”
“Try me bitch.”
At that he laughs, and then tension finally goes out of his shoulders. You spend the rest of the haunted house startling whenever someone jumps in front of you, letting out small shrieks that are entirely shadowed by Ria’s screams. Seokjin doesn’t fare any better, and you and Yoongi make fun of them, so much so you find yourself wiping happy tears from your eyes when you finally walk outside again.
“Never doing one of these again,” Seokjin deadpans, which only makes you and Yoongi laugh again.
Ria punches his shoulder. “You were supposed to protect me.”
“I was scared too!” Seokjin lets out, massaging the spot she hit. “I don’t ever do haunted houses!”
The two of them start bickering, though the teasing twinkle in their eyes tells you that it’s all in good fun. And it’s beautiful to see, though you can tell Seokjin is not all the way in yet.
You can’t blame him - Ria did lead him on for a while. But you can only hope that they’ll make it despite everything. When he throws an arm around her shoulder to pull her in, kissing the top of her head, you reckon they will.
If anyone makes it through the college experience without breaking up, it’ll be them, and Nabi and Namjoon. At least you hope so.
You meet up with Nabi and Namjoon when you go to the area where multiple food stands have been erected. You and Yoongi get corn dogs, only because you haven’t eaten them in forever and you feel like indulging tonight.
Like forgetting that, three days ago, you broke your heart and Jungkook’s heart with words you didn’t mean, all because your brother took you by surprise while you were with Jungkook.
Speaking of Taehyung, you notice him on the other side of the food court-like area, surrounded by his group of friends. He sees you, waving halfheartedly at you like he expects you might have forgiven him already.
You haven’t. As a matter of fact, the sight of him out and about enjoying himself after he caused Thursday’s heartbreak makes you hate him even more, and you turn away from him to focus on your friends’ conversation. But you can’t join in - your thoughts have run back to Thursday, to the feeling of Jungkook’s gentle hands all over you as you’d had sex, and then as you’d taken a shower together.
Your thoughts run back to your love confessions, that you both didn’t register because you were too angry, too caught up in the moment. But you know he said he fell in love with you, just like you did with him.
And that, most of all, is the reason why you hate Taehyung. Because no amount of loving Jeon Jungkook could save the relationship when your brother was so keen on destroying it. 
You take a deep breath as heaviness settles on you, and Nabi sidles closer to you, nudging you gently.
“Don’t think about it right now,” she whispers for just you to hear. 
You swallow around the lump in your throat. “It’s hard.”
“I know,” she gently says. “I know it’s hard, and I know you probably wish you weren’t here right now. But this is a good distraction, no? You loved it last year.”
You did. You’d ended up coming here four times before the fair closed shop for the year, and each time you had had the time of your life, messing around with your friends with not a single care for the world around you.
Needless to say, you’ve lost that unbothered attitude now, the frivolity of it completely forgotten.
You sigh, meeting Nabi’s gaze for a few seconds. “I’m trying. It doesn’t help that Taehyung is here, though.”
“You want me to go kick his ass?” Nabi asks. You chuckle, and a smile tickles at the corner of your lips. Nabi grins at the sight of it. “You’re going to be okay,” she promises. “We’ll make sure of it.”
You can only hope that she’s right.
After eating, you all head to the maze. You team up with the girls, racing the boys to the end. Evidently you get lost, and you manage to laugh around with your friends even through the heaviness on your shoulders. You’re lost somewhere in the middle of the maze when your phone rings in your purse with three incoming text messages.
You reckon you know who texted you. Considering that all of your friends are here with you tonight, there’s only one person you think could have texted you.
So you stop walking, Ria and Nabi stopping a step ahead of you, and you pull your phone out of your purse, heart dropping to your ass.
[7:27 pm] JK: hey so i’ve been thinking and there’s some stuff i need to get off my chest [7:27 pm] JK: sorry for the long message [7:28 pm] JK: I want to apologize for everything. I’m sorry, so sorry that I couldn’t make it work. I’m sorry Paris happened, I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you right away. I wish I’d been, maybe we’d be together now. But I had to fuck it up, multiple times honestly and I think it’s proof that I definitely am not ready to be in a relationship. I wanted to try tho, I really did. I think you and I could have been something great. And lately I’ve been wondering if, maybe we made it in another universe. Like… I can’t accept that there’s no universes out there where we make it, you know? Because I really love you. I’ve loved you since the day I met you and you ran into me. I fell for you the second I saw you, and then I found out you were Tae’s sister, and the rest is history. But I wanted you to know it, to know that I love you and that I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I fucked it up. I’d take everything back if I could, I’d save you the heartbreak, but life doesn’t work that way. so yeah… i’m really sorry peach… I hope we can make it in the next life
You can’t breathe. You can’t breathe for a whole minute as you reread again and again, and Ria and Nabi stand next to you, asking what’s wrong. You can’t say anything - you think your heart has stopped beating altogether.
You hand your phone to Ria, and she and Nabi read the messages while tears prick at your eyes, adrenaline flushing through you.
“Holy fuck,” Ria curses under her breath, and she meets your gaze. “Y/n, do you know where he is?”
You don’t. You have no clue where he’s gone to hide after he left Thursday, and you think you might be sick. “I don’t know,” you answer. “I don’t know, I don’t know.”
Tears fall from your eyes, and you grab your phone, immediately pressing on the call button. It goes to voicemail right away, and you choke on a sob as Nabi grabs your arm, pulling you behind her.
You were almost at the end of the maze, luckily, and the second you’re out you take off, your friends yelling your name behind you. Apparently, the boys made it out first, because there’s a chorus of ‘What is going on?’ as you run back towards the last place where you saw Taehyung.
Your brother is not there, and though you’re out of breath, you sprint down another alley, where a bunch of artists sell paintings and bracelets and everything in between. You try calling Jungkook again, but it once again goes to voicemail.
You’re about to throw up. You’ll fucking throw up your corn dog, you’ll fucking lose him, irreparably. The fear takes hold of you, sweeps through you until you’re shaking, tears falling freely like they have a mind of their own. You can barely think around the loud beats of your heart, around the sound of the blood gushing into your ears. 
You can’t think around the thought that Jungkook is about to hurt himself.
“Y/n!” Namjoon says behind you, and you spin around to see he’s the only one who managed to follow you. Your other friends are just now turning into the alley, and they rush towards you.
“Where’s my brother?” you ask, and you choke on another sob.
Taehyung is likely the only person here who might know where Jungkook is.
Namjoon looks over his shoulder as Ria skids to a halt next to you. “I don’t know,” he answers, and you almost want to punch him.
How is he so intelligent and doesn’t fucking know that?
“Have you guys seen Taehyung?” you ask your other friends as they all stop next to you. “I need to find him.”
They all nod, and you disperse throughout the fair, searching for your brother.
“Why don’t you call him?” Yoongi asks, and you startle - you didn’t notice he’d followed you.
And you find yourself stupid for not thinking about it before. Instead of trying to call Jungkook again - you’ve been trying constantly since you received his messages - you go to Taehyung’s contact, calling him.
He picks up on the third ring. “Finally talking to me?” he drawls.
“Where are you?” you ask.
He must hear the panic in your voice, because he answers, “In line for the haunted house. Is something wrong?”
You hang up, not replying, instead sprinting towards the haunted house. You indeed find Taehyung next to it, though he’s not in line anymore, like he knew you’d come see him.
“Where’s Jungkook?” you ask, the panic in your voice so stark you see the colours fading from his features.
“Why?”
“Where the fuck is Jungkook?” you repeat, and tears once again roll on your cheeks.
Ariane steps closer to you, resting a hand on your arm. “Y/n, what’s wrong?”
You break down. You fully break down, hiding your face in your hands. Yoongi explains the situation while Ariane pulls you into a hug, and you cry on her shoulder, clutching the fabric of her sweater - Taehyung’s sweater - as if that'll stop you from breaking.
“He’s at home,” Taehyung says, pulling you from Ariane’s arms. “He’s at home, Y/n. Let’s go.”
You nod, and you both take off, leaving Ariane and Yoongi behind. They don’t try to follow, clearly sensing that this is something you and Taehyung need to do alone. 
You’re frantic on the ride home, one leg bouncing up and down as Taehyung drives, and you urge him to go faster.
“It won’t do us any good if we get in an accident before getting home,” Taehyung answers, but you notice he does accelerate.
“Should we call the police?” you ask when you stop at a red light.
It only then occurs to you that you might walk in to find Jungkook hurt.
“We’re almost there,” Taehyung says gently. 
You are. You’d likely get there before the police would.
You’re crying again, the panic and terror swimming through your blood so loud you can’t think anymore.
You don’t know what you’ll do if Jungkook hurt himself. If you get home to find him…
You don’t dare finish the thought.
It feels like an eternity before Taehyung finally parks the car near the apartment, and you’re flying out of it before it’s gone to a full stop. Taehyung doesn’t comment, and you’re sprinting faster than ever, climbing up the stairs to your apartment in a record time. You try the door, but it’s locked, and you curse as you search through your purse, but you don’t have the keys.
You don’t have the keys.
“I got you,” Taehyung says as he reaches the top of the stairs, keys already in hand.
He unlocks the door in no time, and the second it’s open you crash in, skidding to a halt as you scan the apartment with your gaze. The door to the bathroom is open, revealing that it’s empty. So is the kitchen, but light filters from underneath Jungkook’s bedroom door.
You run to the door, push it open as your heart beats so fast you’ll likely go into cardiac arrest.
Jungkook is sitting in front of his gaming PC, and he turns his head towards you, gaze going wide at the sight of your distressed state.
“You came?” he lets out.
You just stand there, watching him. Taking in the sight of him, alive and unharmed, playing computer games like he always does. It’s enough to make you break down again, and you fold on yourself, tears streaming down your face. 
“I uh…” Taehyung trails off from behind you. “I’ll let you guys talk.”
Soft footsteps move towards you, and gentle hands pull you up and inside the room. You don’t see anything through the blinding waterfall in your eyes, and all you can do is sob harder when you’re pulled into someone’s arms.
Jungkook’s arms. They wrap around you, strong and steady, holding you close to him. Your fists clench on the fabric of his oversized white t-shirt, and you cry as you rest your forehead on his chest.
He holds you as all the anxiety rushes out of you in the form of endless tears, and you just cry and cry, the relief that he’s safe and sound so intense you feel whiplash. 
Eventually, Jungkook makes you sit down on his bed, and he gently takes off your shoes. He then lies next to you, pulling you down, and you rest your head on his chest, the flow of tears finally slowing down.
It comes to a full stop when Jungkook kisses the top of your head, his arms around you momentarily tightening.
“You’re an idiot,” you say, voice raucous from all the crying.
“I assume this is about the message I sent you?”
You frown, lifting your head to meet his gaze. His eyes are red-rimmed, and you only then realize that he’s been crying with you all along. “Gosh, Kook,” you let out, fresh tears welling up in your eyes, but you manage to blink them away. “I thought you were going to hurt yourself.”
“Oh.” He worries at his piercings for a few seconds, then adds, “I wasn’t.”
“You sounded like you were.”
His eyebrows almost touch over his eyes. “Oh?”
“‘I hope we can make it in the next life’” you narrate. “Doesn’t that sound like what someone would say before…” you trail off, unable to say the words, the fear still impacting you despite the fact that you’re realizing he was never in any danger.
He winces. “Now that you say it like that, I guess it does sound bad.” He scrunches up his nose. “Sorry?”
“Fuck,” you curse. “Jungkook.”
“I really am sorry, I didn’t want to worry you,” he insists. He pulls you down, forcing you to rest your head back on his chest. “I just wanted to tell you how I feel. And I knew I’d say it wrong if we were talking face to face, so I just put everything down in that message.” He chuckles, though you hear him gulp. “I wrote it all in my notes app before sending it to you.” He pauses, and his lips ghost the top of your head. “My therapist said I should write down how I feel, and reading it after, I realized I wanted you to know too.”
Your hand is resting on his abdomen, and you shift it until it’s wrapped around him, pulling his body closer.
“I love you too, Jungkook,” you whisper. “Maybe not for as long as you… but I love you too.”
“I know,” he murmurs in the same tone. “I know, peach.”
You blink away the new onslaught of tears that threatens to spill on your cheeks, and coincidentally on his shirt. “We do need to talk, though.”
“I know.”
You take a deep breath, trying to find courage. As if speaking to Jungkook is scary, dangerous.
But then again, this is just Jungkook. This is the man who took care of you when you were upset on Valentine’s Day, who took care of you at every party you attended last semester.
This is the man who was ready to lose his friendship with his best friend if that meant having you. And you realize then that there’s nothing to be scared about. It’s just you and Jungkook.
It was always going to be you and Jungkook, wasn’t it?
“I’m sorry too,” you admit. “For being so afraid of Taehyung’s reaction. And I wasn’t wrong to be.” You lift your head to eye the purple-turning-to-yellow mark on his cheek. It’s streaked with a linear scab, where the punch cut his skin. “I can’t believe he punched you.”
“I was expecting it.”
You look a little higher, meeting his gaze. “Why didn’t you try to stop him?”
His Adam’s apple bobs and he takes a deep breath. “I thought I deserved it.”
“Jungkook…”
“I did,” he affirms. “Did you know he told me not to touch you, ever, before I even met you?”
You frown. “That sounds like Taehyung.”
“Yeah…” Jungkook takes another deep breath, and you move your hand to hold his shoulder, thumb ghosting on the side of his neck. “And yet I did.”
“I’m happy that you did,” you whisper. “All the time we spent together last semester… I loved it, you know? I really fell for you.”
“I’m lucky you did,” he replies, and he pecks the top of your head. “But then again I treated you like shit. I should have pushed Gabrielle away before she even kissed me. But I just thought I was helping her.”
“It’s okay,” you reassure him. “I stopped being upset with you about it the second she told me everything.” You hold him a little tighter for a few seconds. “She was rooting for us, you know?”
Jungkook nods. “I know. She told me.” He sighs, and his lips brush the top of your head again, as if he’s trying to anchor you here.
To anchor himself here, with you, just lying in his bed, slowly forgetting the world.
“I’m sorry about Lisa,” he adds after a few beats of silence. “I really didn’t expect you to ever show up like that.”
“I should have texted you first,” you say as your heart clenches in your chest at the memory of Lisa in his shirt, of every scene of them together you imagined during your countless sleepless nights. “You had every right to try to move on with someone, you know?”
“But you didn’t,” he points out. “I should have held out for longer.”
“Jungkook,” you say sternly, lifting your head to meet his gaze again. “You couldn’t have known that I’d come back. You had the right to move on.”
His gaze is lined with silver, big doe eyes shining softly in the dim light from his PC monitor, and from the LED lights strung all around his room. They shine a gentle yellow tonight, so unlike the red you’re used to.
“I’m still sorry about it,” he murmurs, lower lip quivering.
“Stop,” you whisper, cupping his cheek. “Stop, Kook. I can’t lie and say that it didn’t hurt, but I was never mad at you for it. Not even for a single second.”
“I don’t deserve you,” he says, and tears spill from his eyes.
You’re quick to dry them with your thumb. “It’s not a question about who deserves who or what,” you say, and you move until you can pull his face into your chest. “It’s never been about that.”
“But I don’t deserve you.” He chokes on the words, and you run a hand through his hair, massaging his scalp soothingly.
“You do,” you say. “You really do, Jungkook. You were here for me all those months. You treated me well despite Taehyung being a concern, despite the fact that I never really fully gave myself to you because of him.” You blink away the wetness in your gaze. “You deserve me because you love me,” you add, and your heart warms in your chest.
It only occurs to you then how real the feelings are. They’ve always been there, always been strong, but now they have a name, and you think it’s the most beautiful name in the universe.
You were right to chase cars around his head, after all.
“You deserve me because you love me,” you repeat, “and because I love you.”
“I do love you,” he says softly. “I really do.”
You can’t help yourself - every single second of your life has led to this moment. You pull away, and he looks up at you as you lean forward. As you softly press your lips on his, and as you swallow the soft sigh he lets out. You kiss him gently, your heart syncing with his, the cars now chasing themselves around both of your heads.
And you do forget the world, as you kiss him. It’s just you and him, like it’s always been meant to be. Just you and Jeon Jungkook, and your souls fusing into one. And maybe the three words aren’t enough, maybe ‘I love you’ can’t convey everything that you feel for Jungkook, but you reckon you have an eternity in front of you to demonstrate the feelings, in all of their glory.
And you kiss for your own little eternity, not ever falling into desire and passion territory. You ride the wave of the love between you and Jungkook - a gentle wave, like those a soft breeze summons on the surface of a lake in the summer. No, you just kiss with all of the love you share, and it burns brighter than the moon ever could, rivalling the Sun.
You wonder, do the stars see you shining in the sky outside? Do they know of the love that was born between you and Jungkook all those months ago?
The kiss ends gently, much like it started. Your eyelids flutter open to meet Jungkook’s soft gaze, and you take in the emotions swirling in the depths of his eyes, reflecting those in yours.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
He frowns slightly. “For what?”
“For telling me how you felt,” you reply. “For sending that message, even though I misinterpreted the end.”
He offers you a small smile, his lips barely curving upwards yet his eyes shining bright. “You deserved to know.”
“And you deserved to know that it’s all reciprocated,” you say. “I’m in love with you, Jeon Jungkook.”
The sparkles in his eyes explode into the most beautiful fireworks. “You’re getting cheesy on me,” he teases.
“And what about it?”
He pulls you down in another kiss, though this time it’s much shorter, more a quick peck than a deep love confession.
“I like it,” he admits. “Be as cheesy as you want.”
“I will be,” you promise, eyes twinkling with mischief.
His answering laugh is oh so healing, and you use it to cure the wounds on your heart.
To cure those on his heart, too.
“I do need to say,” you say a few minutes later, after you’ve laid your head back on his chest, “that I’m sorry about what I said to Taehyung Thursday. It was never a lapse of judgment, and I really don’t know why I said that.”
“It really hurt,” Jungkook admits, and you hold him tighter, trying to erase the past. “But at the same time, I do get why you said it. You were just trying to get Taehyung off our backs.”
“I was, but it wasn’t the right way to do it,” you say. “It was stupid, and hurtful, and I really didn’t mean it at all.”
“It’s okay.” Jungkook’s mouth brushes the top of your head, and he adds in a whisper, “It’s okay.”
You don’t think it is, but then again, there’s a lot of things you need to leave in the past if you want to be able to move forward with him.
You both made mistakes, a lot of them, but holding onto them won’t bring you anywhere positive.
“You know,” Jungkook says. “I suck at relationships.”
You lift your head to meet his gaze. “You don’t.”
“No, but I do,” he insists. “I’ve never had a real girlfriend. As you know, Gabrielle was just… a cover?”
“Yeah…” you trail off, resting your head on his chest again. “Did you guys ever…”
He chuckles. “Yeah. Once, when we were seventeen. She said she couldn’t really know if she was gay if she didn’t try having sex with a guy once.”
“How did that go?”
You hear the wince in Jungkook’s tone as he says, “Poorly. It was my first time, and hers too obviously, and it was entirely shit.”
You laugh, patting his chest. “Don’t worry, you’ve gotten a lot better.”
“Oh did I now?” Jungkook teases and he pushes you off his chest, forcing you to lie on your back so that he can climb over you.
Your laugh turns into a giggle as he hides his face in your neck, his breath tickling you, and you retaliate by tickling his sides.
He bursts out laughing, falling on the side next to you. “How dare you!”
You rest your hand on his stomach, stopping him before he can climb on top of you again. “I want to know more,” you say, falling serious.
He cocks an eyebrow, his grin slowly fading. “Know more?”
“About you,” you say. “I feel like I don’t know a lot about you, despite all the time we spent together.”
Maybe because there always were too many secrets between you and Jeon Jungkook. 
But not anymore, not ever again.
“What do you want to know?” he asks.
“Everything.”
He widens his gaze, laughing softly. “It’s going to take the whole night.”
“I don’t care,” you insist. “I want to know everything that makes you, you.”
He wets his lips, toying with his piercings. “And do I get to know more about you, too?”
You nod forcefully. “I’ll answer every question.”
There’s a silence as you just share a look, until Jungkook turns on his back, looking up at the ceiling. You just stare at his profile, wondering what question he’ll ask first.
“We should go on a date,” he says, taking you by surprise. He looks at you again, before adding, “On a real, proper date. Like in the movies. And then you could ask me all your questions.”
You snort. “You want to go on a date with me?”
“Of course,” he says. “Friday night at eight pm. Wear your best clothes.”
“You’re deadass?”
He narrows his gaze at you. “Yes? Why wouldn’t I be?”
You shrug, cheeks dusting with pink. “Does that mean that we’re…”
“That we’re?” Jungkook presses when you never finish the sentence.
“That we’re dating?”
Your heart beats out of your chest at the question - it holds the weight of the universe. Two hours ago, you would have never believed you’d get to ask Jungkook that, ever.
Yet here you are, and when his gaze fills with all the warmth of love and summer days and everything in between, you know the answer.
“Well…” he trails off. “If you want to. We can also take it slow if you prefer?”
“What about a little bit of both?”
Jungkook chuckles. “How would that work?”
“I mean…” You lie on your back, looking up at the ceiling as you search for the right words to say. “As you said, you suck at relationships, and so do I. So maybe we can learn along the way? Do things the right way this time around?”
He’s smiling when you turn your head to look at him again. “Yes,” he agrees. “One day at a time.”
The kiss that follows starts slowly, softly, gently, but it escalates quickly, led by the lingering fear that you could have lost him tonight. It burns with passion, Jungkook’s tongue pushing into your mouth, and you let out a breathy sound as he climbs back on top of you, his knee parting your legs.
You wrap them around his waist to hold him closer, your arms snaking around his neck. 
It’s all kisses and soft moans and whispered confessions until you’re naked, entwined, your bodies joined in the most intimate of ways. Jungkook muffles your moans with his lips on yours, and you pour all of your love into the kisses, in the way your hips lift to meet his.
When Jungkook climaxes, you hold him even closer - you’d be dumb to let him go. Not when it was always meant to be him. Not when your love for him is growing, flourishing inside of your heart, of your soul, to form the most beautiful garden.
A garden of you and him, of feelings shared and confessed, of yearning and longing that only led to this beauty. To this moment of you and him together - to this first moment of you and him together of the long list that will follow.
And later, before you fall asleep in his embrace, you whisper against his skin, “I love you.”
He whispers it back, and the reciprocity of the feelings shines on you through the night, like it will shine on you from this day on until you dwindle into stardust, to be carried on a wind of eternity.
Prev | Chapter 15.5 | Next
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I told you the angst was almost over :') which is good, bc there's only two chapters left. I hope this one managed to heal you guys a little, tho it started off sad. The last two chapters are for healing but first, what did you guys think of this one?
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hannieween · 17 days
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moonlight | lights out series
Joshua had not only fallen in love with you, but with the life he had by your side. He just had to learn to find the balance between the life he was so in love with and the life he had worked so hard to achieve.
✮pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader x joshua hong ✮ genre: angst, fluff, smut [18+] ✮ aus: theatre director jeonghan, rockstar joshua, polyamorous relationship ✮ word count: 25.3k
› 🎧: limbo – dpr ian | horizon – i.m | hold me – hojean | cheese and wine – dpr live | different – woodz | love scene – baekhyun | take my hand – zerobaseone ‹ note: this song is so cute and perfect | ditto – new jeans | bad sad and mad – bibi → season one — season two — read more › smut warnings under the cut
✮ warnings: sleep paralysis, smut with plot, dom jeonghan, switch joshua, switch reader, alcohol consumption, slight mlm themes, slight dubcon: reader takes care of drunk hannie. reader is on birth control, smoking, corruption kink, dirty talk, unprotected p in v sex, blowjob, handjob, deepthroating, dacryphilia, fingering, creampies, tongue fucking, pussy drunk hannie, squirting, hair pulling, doggy style, rough sex, consensual recordings of sexual intercourse, a bit of cockwarming, vanilla sex, lazy love-making, nipple teasing, couch sex, dirty talk. brat taming: pussy slaps, spanking, edging, praise/degradation kink, light impact play, 1 slap on the cheek. pet names: bunny, beautiful, baby, princess, bad girl, filthy girl (hers), handsome, big baby, (jeonghan) babe, baby, handsome (joshua) ✮ author's note: this is incredibly self indulgent. also, these chapters are getting longer... having to write about two boyfriends at the same time is not for the text-limited posts on tumblr. i'm going to start posting my fics on ao3 too soon... so be on the lookout for that? hehe ✮ author's note 2: there are some instances where the word Bunny and/or Princess are with capital letters and that is to signify Y/N, ok? ok i'm terrible at explaining this .. i just don't like using the Y/N nomenclature. i feel like it pulls me out of the reading ✮ author's note 3: also thanks to @onlymingyus who helped me figure out some scenes! thank you baby 🩵 ✮ disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.
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part iv
The candles were half-burnt, still lit, and sitting on the table with a forgotten charcuterie board and two empty cups of red wine. You had not finished cleaning the table when you got sidetracked by a serious conversation with your boyfriend on the couch.
A conversation that, predictably, ended with a heavy make-out session.
Joshua had to finish packing his suitcase, a thought that he pushed far back into the list of things he needed to get ready before he left for his first tour the following day. The number one priority to him though, was you. Despite the heavy topic of conversation that you both just had, he could match the passion of your kisses quite effortlessly.
It was his last night with you for what would be weeks. He was not sure when he was coming back exactly, since this tour was going to Midnight Haze’s first big tour.
This was a huge achievement. It was something he dreamed about when his band was just a local indie one. Now they were signed. They had their first studio album. And they were going on tour to visit different countries. A dream come true.
However, there was one thing holding him back.
Joshua never thought of himself as a romantic person. Not even remotely. He used to think he was content with being on his own. He never looked for love and made it very explicit with every partner he had. No relationships, no attachments. Only one goal, and he achieved that goal.
But in his journey, he never thought he would fall in laove. He was not expecting you. When he met you and accepted your proposal to have an entirely sexual relationship, he never noticed the warnings in his brain. Joshua blindly gave himself to you.
It shook his world to find you.
He wanted to stay in the coziness of the home you had given him. And to think that you were neighbors for years before you saw and talked to each other… he wondered sometimes what would have happened if you crossed paths differently, would he be here with you?
Involuntarily, his hands gripped your waist tighter, pulling you closer on his lap. You stifled a moan in his mouth, one hand cupping his chin, while the other had slid down his chest, clinging onto to his plaid shirt.
“Babe,” you paused, but he protested with a groan, his hand sliding up to the middle of your back to keep you from pulling away from him. “Josh,” you mumbled in between desperate kisses. “You have to pack your things, don’t you?” you asked, a giggle fleeing between your lips.
You knew already that he had to finish packing, but that did not stop you from starting the make-out session. And he knew you were just trying to tease him because there he was, all riled up, becoming more and more addicted to your lips.
“I have till five in the morning,” he responded with a hoarse voice, his hand left your back to meet your cheek. “Come here.”
The hand clinging onto his shirt flattened between his pecs. “I mean, but you also have to sleep, right?”
“I can sleep on the plane.”
Joshua heard an airy chuckle leave your mouth as his hand cupping your cheek motioned you in for another deep, heated kiss. It was his turn to smile into the kiss then your hand on his chest found the first button of his shirt, slowly and almost meekly undoing it with one hand.
But you broke away, a playful grin curving your lips. “Are you sure though? I can help you pack, and then we continue where we left off?”
He shook his head slightly, getting lost in the features of your face. It was going to be a while before he saw you again like this. Even if you were planning to visit him soon, he could not last a day without holding you. He had to make the most of the time he had left with you.
“I want to be close to you tonight,” he mumbled, holding your gaze. “I can pack later.”
“I just don’t want you to be late,” you replied dismissively, because you wanted the same thing as him just as badly.
Joshua smiled in full endearment of your worry. It was not unusual for you to worry about the smallest of things. “Don’t worry, I’ll just throw a few things in there and that’s it,” he shrugged, a knowing look appearing on his face.
You hated that at once, you shook your head. “Joshua, you need to do it right,” you said in a more serious tone, chastising him a little. But when his smile widened, scrunching his nose, you just pushed his shoulder.
“I will, baby,” he reassured, nodding with his head. “But only if you keep kissing me,” he challenged.
You returned the smile. “And if I don’t?”
He shrugged. “I’ll just finish packing and go to sleep,” he said nonchalantly.
You tried holding his gaze, but then your facial features broke into a pout.
“I’m just teasing you, baby,” he giggled, his eyes turning into half moons as he tipped his head back slightly.
You loved the sound of his giggles, sweet and merry. You could not resist yourself, grabbing his face with your hands to plant a kiss on his scrunched nose, catching him off guard. But he recovered quickly, grabbing your waist again to capture your lips with his own, to continue where you left off.
Your hand returned searching for the buttons of his plaid shirt, feeling the curve of his pecs in the process as you undid each button hurriedly, his shirt parting, leaving his chest in sight. Your heartbeat fluttered at the sound of his breathing hitching, and your hands slid beneath the plaid shirt, caressing the bare skin of his chest freely.
His pectorals bulged, and it was hard not to notice them lately. You knew he had been working out consistently as of late, so when your hands cupped his pecs, he bristled.
“Sorry,” you whispered sheepishly.
“It’s okay,” he reassured with a soft smile. “You can do whatever you want to me.”
“Okay,” you breathed out.
Having the green light, your hands explored his chest beneath his shirt, the pads of your thumbs teasing his nipples lightly. You felt his thighs tensing beneath you when you rubbed his nipples gently, cupping and massaging the soft muscle of his pectorals.
Joshua sat up straight, his hands securing you firmly, so you did not lose balance. In a wordless exchange, your hands slid from his chest to his shoulders and down his arms, thus pushing the sleeves of his shirt off him.
Once he was freed from the first piece of clothing on his body, his hands were on you again. Your fingertips grazed his veiny biceps, tracing a line to his collarbones and then cupped his neck, all the while kissing him heatedly, humming slightly on his mouth every time he outlined your lower lip with the tip of his tongue.
“Can I mark you?” you asked with a breathy tone, your fingers trailing down the soft skin of his neck.
Joshua knew why you asked. As his band gained more traction and recognition, their agency had to hire a PR management company, which instructed the Haze boys to be careful with their image.
“No, baby. You can’t,” he replied with a saddened tone. He hated to say no to you. He also hated to have this pristine poster boy front that he did not care for about at all.
“Mn, okay,” you breathed, not giving him the opportunity to see your full reaction, you leaned to kiss him again.
You broke away from the kiss, but rested your forehead on his, slowly littering him with pecks. One hand left the side of his neck, and Joshua tilted his head back to pay attention to the detour your hand was taking. You tucked your hand behind your back, grabbing the lace tying the back of your dress, and unravelling it with one movement.
In a silent sequence, Joshua gathered the long fabric of your dress that you had worn for the occasion by grabbing the skirt in bundles and pulling it up your body. Your hair got ruffled in the process, and you laughed meekly as your fingers removed the strands from your face and tucked them behind your ears.
But Joshua was caught up in the fact that you had been wearing absolutely nothing beneath the dress he had just discarded on the side of the sofa. He took one look at your naked body sitting on top of him, and then his eyes met yours. “Were you wearing nothing beneath that the whole time?”
You nodded with your head meekly, biting your lower lip to hide your smile. “I thought you’d appreciate it,” you shrugged.
Even though you had been together for months now, a blush still painted your cheeks red in utter shyness. From the night he met you, he has seen you naked, due to the nature of your relationship. It was natural for him to see your shyness then, but now, after all these months, he found it endearing.
“You know I do,” he admitted as you leaned over to latch your lips with his. “You know everything you do drives me crazy,” he purred in between kisses.
His hands explored your back, circling over to clutch at the curve of your waist, knowing that would bring your body alight. You pushed your chest to him, muffling a moan in his mouth, something he returned at once when he felt your pebbled nipples on his skin. A hand pressed on your back, squeezing you to his hard body.
Your fingers found his nape, sliding to tangle on the locks of his beautiful dark hair. He dyed it recently with a dark chocolate tone, bringing back the shadow of the man you met when he used to live right next to your apartment. Your fingernails grazed his scalp, bringing out a salacious moan from him.
The sound reverberated against your chest, sending a chill that ran thick through your body. It only egged you on, your fingers trailed down from his nape to his neck, caressing his skin ever so gently.
The delicate touches left tingling sensations in their wake, slowly driving Joshua crazy. His hands clenched the curve of your waist one more time before finding your ass, cupping it with a raspy groan from his part.
You pulled away from his lips with a rich smacking noise. “Not so fast,” you mumbled with a tilt of your head. A confused look shot through the features of his face, making you clarify: “Not until I get your clothes off.”
Joshua understood where you were going right away. His dark, glinting eyes marvelled at the sight of you, face still flushed, naked and on top of him. He nodded, letting you take his wrists and driving his large hands from your ass to your thighs, where they rested instead.
You grabbed his chin with your fingers daintily, leaning over to place a small peck on his lips. “Good boy,” you whispered. “Now let me get you out of those jeans.”
Completely enamored, he just nodded, heart fluttering uneasily in his chest when you flashed him a cute smile. You placed another kiss on the corner of his lips, fingers pinching his chin softly before you carried on with your task.
You raked his torso with the tips of your fingers, making him draw in a breath sharply at the sensation. “I like you so much,” you mumbled with an airy tone, looking at his figure, the curve of his strong shoulders and biceps.
In your admiring his body, you were not aware of his eyes doing the same thing, outlining every inch, every curve of your body on top of his. “You’re so hot,” you added almost aloofly.
“Ditto,” he mumbled, recalling the times you have exchanged a similar expression. He squeezed your thighs gently, bringing your gaze to meet his. There, in his eyes, you saw the love and adoration he felt for you.
You did not resist the urge to kiss him, so you did exactly that by closing the space between your lips.
“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he mumbled sweetly, the statement bringing a light chuckle out of you, so he emphasized: “The hottest. I fell for you instantly.”
“Did you?” you smiled.
“Absolutely,” he whispered. “All grumpy at me in your bunny pjs,” he enjoyed the meek smile appearing on your face. “The prettiest… and the hottest.”
You rolled your eyes, but the smile did not disappear. “Shut up,” you mouthed, the aloofness persisted as you ran your hands on his chest, feeling his pecs up. Then he understood that you were entranced, your eyes lost on his nakedness.
“Make me,” he whispered, a knowing smirk spreading on his beautiful lips.
Your smile turned playful, giving him a chaste kiss. “Bad boy,” you whispered, propping yourself on your knees to scoot back a little and then he felt the tips of your fingers on his lower abdomen, making him draw in another breath.
He looked at your fingers tracing a line over the soft hairs of his happy trail, meeting the band of his boxers peeking beneath his jeans. Then he darted a look at your face, finding out that you were biting your lower lip in excitement and anticipation. Your eyes locked with his briefly, the corners of your lips lifting a little right before you tugged at the button of his jeans free.
Joshua smiled slightly when you gave him a rushed, feathery kiss. “Help me?” you whispered, climbing off him and the couch while hooking your fingers on the band of his boxers. He lifted his hips from his seat, as you pulled both his jeans and boxers down his thighs and got rid of them completely.
But instead of climbing back on top of him, you eased down on your knees between his legs. Joshua noticed your eyes widen slightly as you outlined his body, your hands caressing his meaty thighs. He leaned back on the couch, so his head was resting back as he watched you explore his body with your eyes, with your hands.
Joshua was a beautiful man. As you took in the sheer beauty of his body, bathed by the soft orange glow of the lights, you felt lucky of being his partner.
You caressed his thighs with your hands, as he cupped one of your cheeks, making your eyes fall on his bulging biceps and his well toned pecs, the curve that formed beneath them. A half smile tugged his lips when you licked yours.
You held his gaze for a moment, a fluttering sensation invading you in your tummy. Joshua was ready for you, the features of his face relaxing slightly when your hand circled his shaft. You touched him at first, his soft and veiny skin, pumping him gently from the base of his cock to the head slick with precum.
You spread the precum with the palm of your hand all over his cockhead before moving your fist up and down, enjoying the way his gaze darkened, his mouth parted slightly. His lust-filled eyes were trained on you as you leaned down, pressing your lips on the tip of his cock, kissing him playfully.
Joshua smiled lightly at the sight of you, using his fingers to push your hair away from your face. But the smile faded, just as you took his cockhead inside your mouth, licking his precum, humming slightly in delightfulness at the taste of him.
He released a small grunt through his parted rosy lips, you took him deeper inside your mouth, your hand moving to his base to pump him with gentle strokes at first. You bobbed your head slowly, eyes locked on his face to see him responding to you just how you expected.
Joshua closed his eyes, closing his mouth to breathe in slowly. His hand slid from your cheek to the side of your head to thread his fingers through your hair, following the movements of your head on his cock. “Faster… please, baby,” he mumbled faintly.
You followed suit, picking up the pace. You hollowed out your cheeks as you pulled your mouth up to his cockhead, swirling your tongue on his tip. His body tensed on the couch, his nose scrunching as he groaned, gritting his teeth. “Fuck… yes,” he sighed. “Just like that.”
A fluttering sensation invaded you, chest swelling with pride when you heard his raspy, deep grunts escaping him. His fingers coiled around your hair, and his other hand joined on the other side of your head, helping you move on him as you took him in deeper.
Silence had flooded the room, only interrupted by soft, smacking noises and the deep grunts from Joshua. Occasionally, he would cuss under his breath, but his face remained relaxed, lost in the sight of you taking his cock in your mouth expertly.
Joshua loved watching you like this, he loved that you knew every step to drive him absolutely crazy. It was taking everything in him to stop his hips to thrust forward. However, you read his movements, pausing before attempting to take him ever deeper into your mouth, gagging around him as his cockhead reached your throat.
“Careful, baby,” he cautioned, retaking the control. You followed, pausing for breath before you tried to deepthroat him again. He saw your eyes start to water, and his thumb reached to scoop a tear rolling down your cheek.
It was your eagerness to take him whole what made him tip his head back, his throat bobbing as he swallowed a deep moan. “Fuck,” he breathed, feeling the muscles of your mouth relax and contract around his cock. “You’re taking me so well, baby.”
Your movements slowed down slightly and became smaller now that his cockhead reached your throat, you retreated your head slightly and pushed again, drool dripping down his shaft and onto your fist. You kept pumping him, though languidly, all your focus was on your mouth on his cock.
“Oh god,” he moaned, opening his eyes to the sight of you deepthroating him, sucking him whole. “Fuck, I’m coming,” he rasped.  
But then you stopped, carefully pulling your head back. But the change made your eyes water, you coughed a little, breathing through your nose.
His mouth hung open, frowning in confusion. “Why did you stop?” he asked, watching you wipe the drool from your lips with the back of your hand.
You grinned, climbing back on top of him to place a chaste kiss on his lips. “You’re coming when I want you to,” you mumbled sweetly, booping the tip of his nose with your finger.
“Baby,” he rasped chidingly, elongating the final vowel of his protest. But his large hands welcomed you, grabbing your hips as you straddled him.
You giggled, kissing his protruding lower lip as he pouted at you. “You’re cute,” you teased.
His studded eyebrow jumped slightly; you should have known better than playing with him like this. “You think so?”
You nodded with your head, a satisfying look glinting in your eyes. “The cutest baby boy,” you purred, bringing a hand on his nape before kissing him. Your other hand searched for his throbbing cock, blindly guiding it to your sopping wet pussy.
A deep moan vibrated in your mouth when you sank down on him, pausing yet again but now to savor the slight painful but delicious stretch of his cock in your walls. Joshua groaned, dropping his head on the headrest of the couch, his hands kneading on your thighs as if that helped him resist his orgasm.
“Look at you,” you cooed softly. “You look so good like this,” you added, toeing between mocking him and appreciating the sweet features of his face riddled by pleasure.
Joshua gulped hard. His gaze, darkened by lust outlined the features of your face as you rolled your hips on his cock. He could not lie, he loved when you took control, he loved to see you grow confident on top of him.
But with one, sudden movement, he thrusted you onto the cushions of the couch. The non-existent heed for your body made you yelp in surprise. He propped himself on his knees, grabbing the back of yours to press your thighs onto your chest.
“Joshua–,” you tried protesting, your face broken in utter confusion when in seconds, he had torn through your dominance like ripping through a piece of paper.
You braced yourself before it happened. Joshua brought down his hand on your exposed cunt, slapping it firmly. Both excitement and pain shot through your body, making you cry out a loud moan that sounded lewder than anything.
Joshua heard the rawness in your moan and understood right away that you had liked it. He tilted his head to one side, smirking as he asked: “Want more?”
You nodded, a glazed look in your eyes before you closed them briefly. Joshua brought his hand down again, right on your sensitive clit, noticing your arousal smeared on the pads of his fingers. He pushed his fingers between your wet folds, to rub circles on your swollen nub.
You flinched when his hand slapped your cunt, but the sound coming out of your mouth did not convey pain. Your face scrunched up in pleasure, your eyebrows knitted, and glossy lips puckered. “More.”
Joshua stopped rubbing your clit with his fingers, raising his hand once more to bring it down with a harsher slap, enjoying the whiny sound tearing through you. He continued to rub your cunt, getting unbearably harder when he noticed the arousal pooling in your entrance. “Filthy girl,” he whispered, a smirk playing in his lips.
“More,” you demanded, your tone dropping to a question.
But Joshua had removed his hand from your throbbing pussy, his fingers encircling around his shaft, pumping it to smear your wetness all over himself. “You’ll take what I give you.”
He then placed a hand on the arm rest above your head, lowering himself on your body as his hand grabbing his hard cock drove it to your entrance, easing himself inside you in one go, filling you up to the point of bringing you to tears.
An airy moan escaped you, and it was not only because his weight was on top of your legs, crushing your chest almost. It was also feeling his girthy cock stretching your pussy, reaching a spot inside you that had your walls clenching around him.
“F-fuck,” you gritted, pushing your head back onto the cushions of the couch. “Joshua,” you whimpered, grabbing his shoulder with one hand. “S-so deep.”
Tears spilled when you blinked, bringing out a wolfish grin from him. “Who’s cute now,” he purred, starting to slam his hips against you with a fast, near animalistic pace. As much as he loved seeing you try your hand at domming him, he loved even more to be the one in charge.
The depth of his hard thrusts became addictive, like fire consuming you rapidly. You writhed beneath him; the tip of his cock reaching a glorious spot inside you every time he slammed his hips against yours.
“Oh god, Josh…” you said between deep breaths. “I’m coming.”
Joshua smiled like this was a game that he just won. But he nodded, kissing the inner side of your knee. He revelled at the sight of you like this: you were crying, stirring, and whining loudly as your orgasm washed over you, making your walls clamp erratically around his cock.
But he kept thrusting inside you, loving the wet sounds that came from your pussy, the way your moans turned airy and raspy. Your eyes had rolled back, your mouth fell open, and he committed to memorize that image of you.
“Joshua… Joshua…” you whimpered, over and over until you were completely breathless.
He eased one of your legs from your chest, wordlessly commanding you to wrap it around his waist, lowering his hips on you, burying his cock deep inside you again. You moaned languidly; eyes closed as you savored the gentle aftershocks of your orgasm.
Joshua was lost in you. In the midst of it all, the faint reminder that this was your last night together in some weeks made his heart clench. He leaned his head down to press his lips on your forehead, the tip of your nose and your lips.
“I love you,” he whispered, unable to bring his voice any louder.
You hummed in response, opening your eyes to see his face. “I love you, Joshua,” you responded, cupping his cheek with one hand to kiss him deeply.
Joshua rested his forehead on yours, sliding a hand under your nape, his fingers tangling in your hair. He retook the brutal pace of his thrusts, feeling your mouth fall open and he blindly mimicked you. Now you were breathing on each other’s mouths, moaning in unison.
Your hands circled his back, holding onto him for dear life as his thrusts knocked the air out of your lungs. “Baby, don’t,” Joshua rasped when your fingernails started digging on the soft skin of his back, bringing out a raw moan from him. “Oh, you fucking brat,” he groaned in both pain and pleasure as you dragged your fingernails down his back, piercing his skin.
You giggled impishly, and he responded with a grin. You removed a hand from his back, cupping his cheek to pull him into a hot, sloppy kiss. He groaned in your mouth, egging you to kiss the underside of his jaw, the curve of his neck, his throat.
“Fuck,” he whispered when you suckled the sensitive spot on his neck you liked so much. But he did not protest or stop your rebellious marking of his neck and back.
You brought his lips back to yours, kissing him chastely. “A little reminder,” you whispered. “So that everyone knows you’re mine,” you traced a circle with the tip of your finger around the marked spot on his neck.
Joshua moaned, pushing his hips desperately against you. “Leave more,” he gasped. “Mark me,” he whispered out his plea to you, turning his head so you could have an easy access to his neck.
The thought of you being possessive over him drove him crazy, pushing him to lose control on top of you. He rolled his hips against you, moaning salaciously as you marked him up from his collarbone to his throat.
“Fuck, baby. Ah. God, fuck,” he squeezed his eyes, scrunching his nose as his thrusts became sloppy. “I’m coming,” he whispered, dropping his head on your shoulder. He moaned repeatedly, fucking his cum deep into your walls.
He pressed his body on yours gently. You wrapped your legs around him as you both regained energies, enjoying each other’s warmth.
You brought a hand to caress his nape, your fingers threading gently his hair. His face was still nuzzled in the curve of your neck, breathing raggedly on your skin. Then he moved his head and rested it on your chest, humming tiredly but relishing in the gentleness of your touch.
Your hand slid from his nape, now caressing gently over the scratch marks you left. A lazy smile drew on your face when you ran your fingertips over the bumpy lines along the line of his back.
Joshua heard you smile, lifting his head to press your lips with his own in a tender way. “Bad girl,” he whispered playfully. “You’re gonna get me in trouble.”
You arched an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? I didn’t see a lot of resistance from your part,” you teased.
“How could I resist? You have a very effective method of persuasion,” he smirked, nose wrinkling when you chuckled.
“Do I now? Since when?” 
“Since forever,” he rolled his eyes, laughing at the way your voice raised higher. “And you’ve known it since day one.”
“Mm, I don’t think I did,” you mumbled with a sing-song tone. You did that whenever you flirted with him.
Joshua gave you a sweet smile, one of those that melted your heart. “No? Well, you’ve had me wrapped around your finger ever since.”
Your face took on a more serious look, your gaze fell on his lips. You wished to make this moment longer, to postpone his departure. A dark part inside you, one dominated by greed, wanted to ask him to stay with you.
“I love you,” you whispered, searching his eyes again. You tried to convey with those simple words that you were going to miss him, that you wanted to stay with him in this moment forever.
Joshua read your face, noticing that your mood had dropped a little. “I love you,” he replied, thinking of what to say.
And then, a loud knock came to the door.
You jerked in alarm beneath him, drawing in a sharp breath. “Oh god,” you whispered, stretching your neck to look at the door.
But Joshua did not move.
“Josh, someone’s at the door,” you whispered, your body recoiling again when the knock became louder.
“Pretend we’re not in,” he mumbled, nestling his head on your shoulder again.
You turned to look at him in utter disbelief. “Babe,” you tried to move him with one hand. “Move so that I can see who is knocking.”
“But we’re not in,” he did not move an inch.
But whoever was at the other side of the door was not quitting either, knocking once more with urgency.
Joshua groaned in complete annoyance, pushing his body up with his hands, peeling himself off you. “Wait here,” he commanded, a hand reaching for the blanket on the arm rest and draping it over your body.
You watched him curiously as he put on his boxers and walked up to the door, yanking it open and peering out to the hall. Holding the blanket to your chest, you propped your elbow on the cushions of the couch, trying to get what was happening on the exchange.
Joshua appeared to nod his head, stepping closer to the doorframe as if to cover the interior to the apartment to the eyes of whoever was standing in front of him. He nodded once more, lifting a hand to receive something and closed the door with a sharp move.
He rolled his eyes, exhaling softly as he discarded a piece of paper on the table, walking back to you.
“Who was that?” you asked upon seeing his face scrunched up in annoyance.
“We just got a noise complaint,” he announced. “Another one.”
Your heart dropped. “Why?” you demanded, trying to sit up on the couch but you stopped yourself with a horrified expression: “We can’t have more than two, we’ll get an eviction notice.”
“I know, I know,” he muttered softly, sitting next to you on the edge of the couch. “Relax, baby. We could look for another apartment somewhere else,” he shrugged with ease, but you could tell he was still annoyed.
You gaped at him. “What?” you uttered.
“By the looks of it, they want us out of here,” he explained solemnly.
“Why do you say that?”
“They had a noise complaint printed and ready to deliver it,” he exhaled, pushing his hair back with one hand. “Seems like they were waiting for the perfect moment to do it.”
You eased back, sighing with him. “God,” you frowned. “Well, I don’t like that. We weren’t being loud!”
Joshua arched one eyebrow at your protest.
“Not like other times,” you mumbled sheepishly, but your eyes wandered into the nothingness. Your mind had started to fly through all the possible routes of action.
“Hey,” he mumbled, yanking you away from your thoughts. “It’s okay. We could start looking for an even nicer place, with bigger rooms…” he said, his tone fading off.
“Mmn, yeah,” you replied, not noticing that he had thought of something else.
But he recovered swiftly, patting your tummy gently. “Let’s not think about it right now, yeah?” he suggested, giving you a soft smile. “Let me take care of you.”
He rose to his feet, pushing the blanket off and with great ease, he scooped you from the couch, carrying you in his arms bridal style. You squealed in surprise, but you welcomed the nice act, smiling at him softly.
In the shower, he noticed your dreamy eyes on him. “I wonder,” you asked, bringing a finger to connect the marked spots on his neck and collarbones.
“What?” he asked, finishing to rinse the shampoo from his deep brown hair.
“What your fans might will say about these,” you mumbled, finishing the trail of connected lovebites, the last one sitting bellow his collarbone.
“There’s already a lot of speculation,” he said, grabbing your finger from his chest to kiss the pad.
“Oh? What is it about?”
Joshua shrugged with ease. “It’s mostly a debate between people that think that I have a partner and people that think that I’m a serial fuckboy.”
You snorted at the last bit of the sentence.
“Is that funny?” his studded eyebrow twitched slightly.
“A little,” you mumbled, slipping your arms around his neck. “Serial fuckboy,” you teased with a grin. “If they only knew.”
He rolled his eyes at your teasing. He closed the water tap, being so that you both had finished cleaning up. His hands circled your waist, keeping a hand flatly pressed on your lower back. “They’ll go crazy with their speculations when they see these,” he pointed with his nose to his chest.
“That just comes with the job, right?” you mused, looking at him almost dazedly.
He leaned his face to yours, water dripping down his forehead and the tip of his nose. “I just don’t want them to snoop on what we have together,” he shrugged lightly.
“What if that happens?” you asked on a more serious tone.
His beautiful dark eyes read your face intently, but he just shook his head lightly, placing a kiss on your forehead. “It won’t happen,” he said, his tone lace with promise.
Then he removed his arms from your body, reaching behind you to grab your bathrobe, offering it to you. “You’re pretty sure of that,” you observed as he helped you put the robe on.
“What are you thinking? Do you want to plan?” he offered, darting a look to your face.
You could tell that the topic of conversation made him uncomfortable. He didn't like the idea of the world knowing about you and, quite possibly, ruining your writing career, in which anonymity was a major part.
“I just think that I want to be ready if they find out about our relationship,” you said nonchalantly, exiting the shower and went ahead to towel dry your hair. “If it comes to it, we can handle it. Who knows, maybe it won’t be that bad,” you suggested offhandedly, walking out of the bathroom.
Joshua followed you to the bedroom after wiping himself with his towel. “Wait, you’re not worried about your anonymity?”
“I don’t know, Josh,” you sighed, sitting down on the foot of the bed. You clasped your hands on your towel, pausing pensively. “I think that it’s best if we’re prepared.”
Joshua walked up to you slowly, making your eyes swivel from the wall of the room to meet his gaze. “Why don’t we leave the plans for another night, mn?” he suggested, bringing a hand to your cheek, cupping it briefly.
You nodded, taking in a deep breath. “Alright,” you said.
He pulled a pair of clean boxers up to his waist and turn around to continue packing his bags. You noticed he did this in a near mechanical way, by grabbing the clothes that were already folded from the closet. You drew your legs in and hugged them as you continued to see him finish packing the first of his suitcases.
As Joshua turned to continue with his task, it was then when you noticed his back, red with the marks you left with your fingernails, some of the scratches looked thicker than others. “Oh my god, I marked you up so bad,” you giggled shamefully, bringing a hand to cover your face.
Joshua gave you a confused look, but then he understood. “Is it that bad?” he walked over to the full body mirror you had on one corner of the bedroom, turning to peek to his marked up back.
His eyes fell on you, sitting cross-legged on the bed, one hand covering your face in complete shame. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled.
“It’s not bad, baby,” he decided, turning around to take a few steps toward the foot of the bed where you still sat.
He planted a knee on the edge of the bed, followed by his hands at the same time you laid back, moving your legs for him to slot his body between them.
“I kind of like it,” he said, pressing his lips on the tip of your nose. “I like it when you act all possessive over me,” he smirked. “And I remembered that you have a thing for pain during sex.”
You let out a muffled sigh. “Josh! I don’t think I do,” you countered, but your tone sounded so insecure that it had you smiling shamefully.
“Mn, you bratty little thing, did you like to inflict pain on me?” he purred, enjoying the flustered look on your face. He did not wait for your answer, because he already knew it. “If it makes you feel better, I liked it too.”
“Why don’t we do it more often?” you pried, sneaking a look at his eyes that had your tummy clenching in nervousness.
Joshua had to pause for a second to gather his thoughts. “It’s not the thing that I’m more inclined to do,” he said pensively, his eyelids hooded to look at your face. “And also, I still don’t know how far I can take you.”
“Well then we should try it one day and see,” you offered him a meek smile.
“If you want to, baby,” he whispered, planting a light kiss on the tip of your nose. “Let’s add it to the list.”
Okay, you breathed, noticing the heavy-lidded eyes starting to look drowsy, even his speech had started to become slow and slurry. “Let’s go to bed?” you offered.
Joshua nodded his head slowly. “Let’s go to bed,” he accepted.
You moved on the bed until you reached the fluffy pillows. Scurrying beneath the covers you patiently waited for your boyfriend to occupy his space in your bed. You watched him get beneath the bed sheets beside you, a soft smile drawing on his face when you scooted to him at once.
You had four hours until he had to go to the airport. You saw his phone screen lit up, showing the picture he had of you as his wallpaper. He made no note of your eyes shifting from his phone to his face, he was deep in thought.
“Nervous?” you whispered.
He nodded again, much as if it were sinking within him that these were his last hours of normalcy before he was launched back into the wild-paced life that is being a rockstar.
“You’re going to do great, baby,” you said with a reassuring tone. “I’ll be here cheering you on, watching you.”
A warm feeling poured over his heart. “Once I learn when I have a break, I’ll come see you,” he promised, the feeling in his heart making his tone quiver. “Or I’ll fly you in wherever I’m at.”
Joshua hated how repetitive he sounded. He said this right before he left for his first tour. And you wondered, inevitably, if this time would be different.
“Take things easy,” you mumbled, your speech had started to sound languid too, dragging the words. “I don’t want you to stress yourself over things you can’t control, Joshua. And those you can, take them one at a time.”
Your boyfriend had to pause and let your words take form inside his mind. When he knew what you meant, he nodded. “I’m trying,” he said faintly. He knew you meant well. He did. But he could not help but feel a deep wave of shame wash over him. “I’m trying to get better at this.”
Your eyes dropped. “I know, babe, that’s not what I meant,” you tried to justify, but it was too late. “I–I just mean–I don’t want you to stress yourself too much.” 
He pushed the feeling deep down and nodded. “I won’t, baby. Don’t worry,” he breathed out the words. He shifted under the covers and onto his back. “Come over here,” he motioned you to his chest, and you lied your head on his heart.
You felt his hand searched for yours, and you instinctively held his fingers. He brought your hand to his lips, kissing the tips of your fingers one by one to then kiss your knuckles.
You raised your head a little, planting a kiss on his cheek. “I love you,” you mumbled, drawing his gaze from the darkness to yours.
“I love you,” he mumbled back, pressing your lips with a featherlight kiss. “So much,” he emphasized.
It broke your heart to hold back your true feelings about him leaving. Joshua already looked sad. As though he were mere minutes to leave, not hours. You lied back on his chest, his heartbeat strumming under your ear, bringing you to a quick sleep without you even knowing.
Joshua did not want to leave either. And that thought he carried onto his dreams.
His sleep was interrupted abruptly. A tight feeling trying to choke him was what drove him to snap his eyes open. As his mind gained some lucidity, the bits and pieces of his dream stung his eyes, the tight feeling coiling in his chest giving way to a broken sob.
“Joshua?” you raised your head right away, bringing a hand to touch his cheek. “What’s wrong? Babe?”
It took him some time to realize that he could not move, fear set in instantly, but he held onto the touch of your hands, and the sound of your voice calling his name. First, he blinked the tears away, letting them go unwillingly but his eyes found you, then his hands.
“Joshua, answer me,” he heard you plead, the worry in your tone palpable.
“I’m okay,” he rasped, gulping hard before reassuring, more to himself than to you: “I’m okay.”
“Tell me what’s going on,” you said, not buying his words.
Joshua frowned before he could even understand what you were demanding. He closed his eyes briefly, his eyelids trembled over the tears that threatened to brim in. Fragments of what he saw last flooded his mind and he shook his head, remembering nothing.
“I think it was just a bad dream, baby,” he reassured. But the broken feeling in his chest persisted.
Your thumb caressed his cheek. “You can talk to me,” you mumbled, and when his eyes found your face again, he saw the worry he had heard in your tone.
“I don’t remember anything,” he swore, and he saw your eyes dim. “Let’s go back to sleep.”
You nodded, placing your head back on his chest. Your hand lowered from his cheek, caressing his bare chest.
Joshua heard you release a sigh, and then your body eased back on top of him. The caress of your hand ceased slowly, and then he knew that you had fallen asleep again.
It would not be long before he came back. He would go away from some weeks, then he would come back and leave again; he would have opportunities to come back home to you. To sleeping next to you. Being with you.
But the prospect of not having this frightened him. Joshua had not only fallen in love with you, but with the tiny, quiet life he had by your side. He just had to learn to find the balance between this life he was so in love with and the life he had worked so hard to achieve.
Joshua woke up again to the sound of his alarm, jolting at the frantic stammering of his heart, his fist instinct was to reach for his phone and shut the beeping alarm off.
His arms encircled you again, it seemed as though you had not changed positions, your head was still lying on his chest. You inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of his skin, humming sweetly as his hand found a way beneath your t-shirt, caressing your back.
Not a word was spoken. But there was an unmistakable feeling lingering in the air that you both tried to push away. Joshua met your cheek with his hand, at the same time that you craned your neck to find his lips with your own.
You brushed his hair back with your hand, a low moan coiling in the back of your throat when he wrapped you with one arm, effortlessly pulling your body on top so your front was fully flushed with his.
His hand moved from your cheek to meet the curve of your waist, sliding down to grip your hips from both sides while you moved your knees on each of his sides, straddling him. Your hands cupped his beautiful face, deepening the slow and sloppy kiss.
Both of you hummed at the same time, Joshua’s low, raspy tone only caused you to sit harder on his lower tummy. His hands helped you move down on him, now pressing your crotch to his, swallowing a moan as your tongue outlined his lower lip.
“Josh, we don’t have time for this,” you whispered, a tiny giggle making your words quiver. “We’ll be late.”
“I don’t care,” he responded gruffly, his hand was already searching for your panties, pushing them aside with one finger as you lifted your hips.
Your hand pushed his boxers down, grabbing his cock by the thick shaft. You rolled your hand once, pumping him a couple of times before easing yourself down on him. A strangled moan came out of you once you bottomed out on him.
“Alright?” he whispered, hearing your groan, and recognizing that it was not entirely from pleasure.
“It’s okay,” you replied, bending over to rest your forehead on his. “I’m just a bit sore from last night, that’s all.”
“We can stop,” he offered, his hands tightening their grip on your hips.
You shook your head. “Just give me a minute,” you mumbled shakily.
Joshua nodded slightly. “Kiss me,” he whispered, moving his hand from your hip to your cheek, bringing your lips to his own.
He moaned as your walls tensed and loosened around his cock, your warmth covering him down to his hilt as your arousal started to drip down. Just to feel him hard and buried deep inside you turned you on so badly you kissed him harder, making him moan.
“You don’t have to move,” he rasped when he felt your hips swaying up and down. “We can stay like this.”
“I want to feel you,” you responded quietly, rolling your hips with a fuller motion. You joined your lips with his, slowly deepening the kiss.
Joshua moaned, letting himself be swallowed by your warmth and love, trying to memorize to heart what it feels like being yours. To be loved by you. He closed his eyes tightly, breathing out the euphoric feeling gripping him wholly.
You pulled back for air, your lips making a soft smacking noise when you broke the kiss. “I love you, Joshua,” you breathed, burying your fingers in his mane of dark hair.
“I love you too,” he responded, his voice thickening with emotion. “You can’t imagine how much.”
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Even though it was early in the morning, the airport was busy. As you climbed out of the car, you noticed Joshua’s anxiety kicking in. The posture of his body changed, and his gaze seemed to darken, and it was not only because of the hairs of his fringe tangling with his eyelashes. It was the way he looked around, probably making sure that the coast was clear.
Joshua did this lately. After he made sure that no one had known of his whereabouts, he extended a hand for you to hold. And when you did, he laced his long fingers with yours, pulling you closer as though he did not want you to get caught in the sea of people.
“Do you see Hannie?” he asked quietly beside you, adjusting the mask covering his mouth and squaring his shoulders to shift the backpack hanging on his shoulders.
You shook your head no. In fact, you had not started looking for him until your boyfriend suggested the idea for you.
Finding Jeonghan was quick. And easy. “There,” you squeezed Joshua’s hand with yours and nodded to the man perched on a massage chair.
Jeonghan’s head was lolling to one side languidly, his chest and shoulders shaking as the massage chair worked on his back. Joshua spotted the man as soon as you pointed and changed courses to meet up to him.
“Hey,” Joshua gently budged his shoulder, freeing the handle of his suitcase to do so.
Jeonghan opened his eyes, raising his head to peer under his baseball cap. “Oh, Joshuji,” he giggled awkwardly when his voice vibrated too. “There you are, you two. You’re late.”
“Yeah, you don’t say,” Joshua mumbled dismissively. “Let’s go, Hannie,” he urged the man, budging him another time but firmer, chuckling as he did so.
“Can’t you wait until this thing finishes?” he nagged, but then surrendered quickly when Joshua used his hand again to slap his shoulder. “Ah! Fine, okay,” he sighed, rising to his feet in front of you. “Hi, baby,” he muttered warmly.
“Hi, Jeongjeong,” you smiled at him, seeing his face made your tummy flutter uneasily. His eyes found yours, right before he planted a peck on your lips. His hand brushed your arm gently before he placed one peck on the tip of your nose.
The fluttering feeling intensified, making your breathing ragged. Your eyes shifted to your surroundings, thinking that people would find it weird that you were kissing one man while holding the hand of another man.
But you found out that no one was paying attention to you.
“Come on,” Joshua squeezed your hand gently.
“Okay,” Jeonghan conceded, following you when Joshua pulled you to his direction as he strode to do check his bags. Where you stayed back with Jeonghan as you both waited for Joshua.
“You’re okay, princess?” Jeonghan asked quietly, standing with his arms crossed and closely behind you.
You turned to see his eyes, partly covered by his cap. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you replied flatly, but your lie was made obvious by the way you quickly yanked your gaze from his face. “You know,” you sighed. “I don’t want to say goodbye.”
“Well, it’ll just be a few weeks,” he said in a consoling tone. “And we are going to visit him, we’ll watch him play for the biggest venues, it’ll be fine.”
You searched his eyes one more time. The confidence and reassurance he offered you never failed to do their work.
And he also never failed to read you perfectly well. “It’s not that what’s got you anxious, is it?” he mumbled with a lower tone.
You swallowed your words.
“What happened to trusting him?” he mused, the slightest of smirks playing on his lips. “When did that fly out the window?”
“I’m just overthinking,” you brushed off, sending a glance towards your boyfriend and felt guilty. “I didn’t like doing long distance the first time he went away.”
Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “Again, baby. It’ll be just a few weeks,” he leaned his head to his shoulder, looking at you with gentle eyes. “Don’t be afraid. Let’s just trust him, okay?”
Joshua was walking back to you and Jeonghan, you knew by the look on his face that he needed to go. “The boys are at the gates already,” he mentioned, sighing with heavy reluctance, and looked to you. “I have to go now.”
You nodded, but you could not stop the remorse gripping your heart. “Yeah, okay,” you forced out.
Joshua scanned the features of your face briefly before turning to Jeonghan. They exchanged a meaningful look, making you wish for the nth time to tap into the wavelength they jealously kept to themselves. But you kept your eyes on them as Joshua extended a hand for Jeonghan to clasp firmly.
Joshua pulled him into a hug. “Ah, okay,” Jeonghan muttered with an air of awkwardness, being caught by surprise. “I’ll miss you too, Joshuji,” he coughed up a chuckle.
“Take care, Jeonghannie,” Joshua brought up his hand to pat on his best friend’s head, and something told you this used to be a normal exchange between them.
“Yeah, you too,” Jeonghan darted a look to your face. “Keep in touch, yeah? Don’t be a stranger.”
It was then that you felt some semblance of reassurance. You could feel your own distractions dissipating as soon as you saw the two men you love hugging each other. Joshua was trying to change, so you had to let go of your fears too.
“Course,” Joshua muttered as he stepped back, a weary look in his eyes as these searched you one more time.
You reached out to him just as his arms wrapped you in, once your chest was tightly pressed against his, you let out a tiny sob.
“No, baby, don’t cry, please,” he muttered, turning his face so he could press a kiss on the crown of your head.
You took a big gulp of air to calm your sobs. “I’ll miss you, Josh,” you told him, tightening your arms around his torso.
“I’ll miss you too, baby,” he replied with a strained voice. As soon as he heard your sobs, the sharp feeling returned to grip his heart. “I’ll call you. Every day.”
“Please,” you whispered shakily, moving your face to meet his.
The feeling coiled around his heart tighter when he saw your teary eyes, but you kept yourself steady and strong as you locked eyes with him. Your plea to him was clear, and he nodded to you.
“I promise,” he whispered back, leaning down to press his lips in your forehead.
You grabbed his face with your hands, giving him a quick kiss. “I love you,” you mumbled meekly.
Joshua sighed, smiling at the shyness you displayed. “Kiss me properly,” he giggled into your mouth before slotting his lips between yours.
A warm tingling feeling invaded you, lingering beneath your hot cheeks. The kiss deepened, and even if you were aware of Jeonghan’s eyes on both you and Joshua, you let yourself ease into the kiss, moving your lips on his in a seamless dance.
“I love you,” he mumbled with a sweet smile, leaning to press a kiss on the tip of your nose.
And with that, Joshua released you from his embrace, patting Jeonghan’s shoulder right before turning to walk towards the gates, where he joined the mass of people and eventually disappeared.
Joshua was gone again.
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The ride back home was a strong reminiscent of the first time Joshua left on tour.
The sun was rising, the wet pavement was shimmering with the sunlight and from the rain that washed overnight. The windows of the car were covered with a light layer of mist, you rubbed your hands together, trying to warm them up a little.
You lifted one finger and drew a smiley face on the car window.
“Oi,” Jeonghan jolted you awake. “No drawing on the windows!” he berated you playfully.
You added some rays around the face, turning it into a smiley sun.
“Ah, you little…” he giggled, sliding a hand on your thigh. “So, have you decided what you want for breakfast?”
You shook your head, gaze falling on Jeonghan’s hand parked on your thigh. “I just want to go home.”
“Okay, home it is then,” he mumbled sweetly.
You paused for a second. “I do want blueberry muffins, though.”
“Ah, alright,” he giggled, patting your thigh gently. “Let’s go get muffins, baby.”
You knew that Jeonghan had commenced his plan to distract you from the emptiness of going back to an empty apartment. When you got there, and saw the table cluttered with the stuff from the dinner of the night before, it was not as painful as you thought it would be.
Jeonghan kept quiet at first, helping you remove the cups of wine and taking them to the sink. The glances he sent to check on you continued until he decided you were alright, that your silence was not because you felt sad, and although you did, it was merely because you were going to miss Joshua.
“Do you want coffee?” Jeonghan, his soft voice breaking through the barriers of your mind.
“I’d love that,” you replied, offering him a reassuring smile.
You followed him to the kitchen, putting the rest of the plates in the sink. “Leave that there,” Jeonghan muttered as you reached for the scrub. “I’ll do the dishes.”
“You don’t have to, Hannie,” you said, noticing that he was trying to accommodate to your gloomy mood and do nice things for you.
“But I want to,” he shrugged, but then you saw a light smirk lifting the corners of his pretty lips. “You do the breakfast, though. It’s your turn,” he said, finishing with a broader smile.
“Pff, okay,” you huffed, a smile appearing on your face.
Jeonghan’s eyes lit up, outlining the features of your face swiftly. “And then maybe we could watch a movie,” he offered, trying to hold your gaze for as long as he could. “But then I have to go to work.”
You raised your eyes to his. And he noticed the question written in your face.
“Wanna come with?”
You nodded with your head silently.
“Okay, then,” he breathed in, pressing the button on the coffee maker on. Then he busied himself with doing the dishes, swiftly looking your way as you prepared two omelettes.
A shy smile crept on your face, being scrutinized by his sweet brown eyes just made you feel uneasy. Jeonghan noticed, moving to stand behind you so you would not feel his gaze on you, but then he did matters worse. His arms encircled your waist, hugging you from behind, his chest pressed to your back.
“What?” he asked when you lowered your head, smiling when he pressed a kiss on your shoulder.
“Nothing,” you mumbled, squirming slightly when his breath fanned your nape. “You make me nervous.”
“Why?” he whispered, he looked at your eyes, then your lips.
“I like you,” you replied in kind. You thought it was obvious.
The way his eyes lit up made your stomach flutter with butterflies. “I like you more, princess,” he said, his low tone quivering.
Your cheeks tingled, making you focus back on the stove and served two plates almost in a methodical way. “Do you think it’s strange?” you pried. “That I want to be with two people at once?”
“You know I don’t think so,” he replied matter-of-factly. “If the real question is, do I think people would find it strange, then yes.”
You coughed up a chuckle. “That’s helpful,” you scoffed, but you could not ignore that it had deflated you a little.
“But they’re not us,” you felt him shrug behind you. “What matters is what happens between Joshua, you and me, right?”
“What do you think?”
Jeonghan pondered for a second. He stopped hugging you and took the plates from the counter, turning to set them on the table. "Sit," he nodded to the chair before turning back to grab the two cups of coffee.
You sat down as Jeonghan set a cup down on the table for you and then himself. He then dropped himself into the seat next to you, a hand flipping the visor of baseball cap.
The tips of his ears poked out; his hair tucked behind them. You instinctively reached out to push some lose hairs behind his ear, drawing his heavy lashed eyes to yours.
A small smile appeared on his face as he caught your hand, pressing his lips to the pads of your fingers. Your stomach dropped in nervousness.
“So?”
“I don’t think it’s weird that you want to be with Joshua and me at the same time,” he said, sinking his fork into the omelette. As he chewed on his food, he lifted his gaze to the ceiling, appearing to be formulating his sentence: “I think we haven’t talked about the… more complicated aspects of dating two people at the same time. At least not the three of us.”
“Oh, so you have. You and Joshua?” you raised your eyebrows.
He nodded. “I asked him if he was sure about all of this,” his lips pouted as he chewed.
“What did he say?” you asked slowly.
“Eat,” he motioned to your untouched food, noticing that you were so caught up with the conversation that you forgot to eat your omelette. “I asked why he agreed to this, since he’s the most jealous guy I’ve ever known,” he shrugged, pausing with the piece of omelette in front of his mouth. “He says he doesn’t know why, but he wants this. You know?”
You nodded, chewing on your food.
“But I think we need to have this conversation again, the three of us when he comes back,” he continued, much as if his thoughts had organized neatly in his head. “Because I’m new to this, sometimes I feel like I’m catching up to the two of you.”
“I’m new to this too,” you frowned.
“I mean that I’m sort of… joining the two of you. Joshua and you already have an established relationship,” his eyes flitted around the room. From the two large noise amps that sat on the corner of the living room, to the table beside the dining table covered in photo frames of shots of you and Joshua. His eyes glanced at the shoe rack by the front door, filled with your and Joshua’s shoes before resting on you once more. “I just got to the party.”
You smiled at the way he conceptualized the polycule you have arranged. You set your elbow on the table, resting your head on your fist. “Well, we have time to bring you up to speed,” you smirked at him.
That seemed to catch his attention. His eyebrow quirked up. “Mm, I like to hear that,” he smirked back at you. He looked at your other hand resting on the table and did not hesitate to take it in his, his fingers playing with yours. “When do we start?”
“Today,” you giggled when you did not skip a beat to give him your answer. “You need to get ready because you're going to speed through this, old man.”
Jeonghan laughed, the sound of his chuckles warming your heart. “Oh yeah?” he arched an eyebrow. “What are we going to speed through today?”
“I don’t know what the steps are,” you admitted. “Joshua and I kind of flew through the steps to having conventional a relationship.”
“And I just got here to make it even more unconventional?” he added, smirking playfully.
“Or to make it more fun,” you quipped but then you shook your head. “I don’t know. You could take me out on a fancy dinner. Give me a reason to dress up.”
“Is that step number one?” he asked, enjoying your playful back and forth.
“Oh, no, you’re in like step number five already,” you quipped with a light chuckle.
“Ah, yeah?” he raised his eyebrows. “When did I climb the other four steps?”
You held up a hand and showed him your pointer finger, signaling a number one. “We hold hands,” you held up another finger, signaling number two. “We’ve kissed, multiple times. Three, we’ve slept together, four we’ve had sex–,”
“Multiple times,” he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you’re right. What’s next?”
You shrugged. “You tell me,” taking a big gulp from your cup of coffee.
“I’d like you to meet my friends,” he said, giving you a meaningful look.
Jeonghan gave a lot of importance to his friendships. You knew that even before you met him, since Joshua told you about him, about him being his greatest confidant. So, meeting his friends meant a lot to him.
Your ears perked up at this. “Oh, your friends from work?” you asked, and he nodded with his head meekly. “Let’s do it. I’d love that.”
“Nice,” he smiled with satisfaction. “Step number five.”
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“You’re gonna grow bored,” he commented off-handedly as he held the door open for you.
“That’s why I brought a book with me,” you replied with a sing-song tone. “I don’t really know what you do for your job, so I probably will be paying attention to you.”
“That’s not…” he sighed and dropped his gaze to the ground, smiling shyly. He took your hand, looking at your fingers as you laced them with his.
You laughed in nervousness at your own bad attempts at flirting.
Jeonghan lead you through the establishment. You had been here before, but everything you remembered about the place was a blur. That time you were distraught, your mind was cluttered with thoughts about your big argument with Joshua, and your feelings for Jeonghan.
The interior of the place was beautiful, it struck you along with its quietness. As you followed Jeonghan through its cold halls, you marvelled at the walls decorated with large posters of their most successful plays.
“This way,” Jeonghan whispered, not really noticing that you saw his name plastered on one of the posters. He opened a door to you, showing you to the room that extended bellow you in rows of seats, and large steps that lead to the big stage. “Come on.”
The stage was not vacant, as you initially had expected. A group of people sat in a circle, and some were practicing a choreography in the background, a couple of men pushing a large stage prop to one corner.
It was so packed in fact that no one noticed you and Jeonghan coming in. “Wait here,” he mumbled, showing you to one seat in the front row.
You watched as Jeonghan paced towards the stage, rolling the sleeves of his hoodie up to his elbows. Something encircling his wrist caught your eye, just as he grabbed it to toy with it. It was your scrunchie, and it had been so long since you had seen it that it brought a smile to your face.
You sat down on the seat, closely following Jeonghan. He put himself to work at once, he was handed a tablet and people approached him, you saw him nod and shake his head, then he pointed at the stage lights.
He nodded to the person he was speaking to and seemingly came to an agreement. Then he turned, looking at the tablet in his hands as he approached your seat in the front row.
“Bored yet?” he asked, seating himself beside you.
“The opposite,” you grinned. “What are you doing?”
He lowered the tablet on his thigh. “Just doing a general revision before this rehearsal. We’re closer to putting this show together. These are the final days before the opening show,” he motioned to the table sitting on his lap. “And here I can see which are the scenes we’re going to rehearse, and I know what to oversee.”
You moved your head up and down, slowly. “Interesting,” you noted. “And what scene are we rehearsing today?”
Jeonghan leaned to your side, looking at the screen. “At the gates of Emerald city,” he recited the title scene with a pleased tone. “So, lightings, costume changes, the song, and choreography. Easy.”
You raised your eyebrows at him. “Easy, eh?” you mumbled.
He sucked in a breath through his teeth pensively. “I just have to make sure that everything’s going smoothly, you know?” he smirked. “Imagine I’m the teacher and the class are showing me their homework.”
You laughed, and that brought a big smile to his face. “And that’s all you do?”
“I get the playwright, the writers, the cast, the crew, and the budget,” he listed with a straight face, but you saw the cunning in his eyes. “I call the shots, baby.”
You snorted but drew from his confidence to say: “Alright, chief. Let’s see what you got.”
Jeonghan’s eyes flashed back to you, then to your lips. “Ready when you are,” he mumbled, continuing to lean to you when–
“Director-nim!” a snappy voice called from below one end of the stage. You followed the sound of the voice. The young man was flashing Jeonghan an annoyed look.
“What?” Jeonghan responded, his tone dropping to one you rarely heard on him.
“Yoon Jeonghan! Stop flirting and come here!”
“This guy,” he said under his breath as he stood up. “I’ll be right back,” he told you as he approached the group where the young man was showing him a daring smile.
The phone you stuck between your thighs started vibrating, pulling you out of your focus. Joshua’s name displayed on the screen, along with a photo of him that you took on one of your dates.
“Hi, handsome,” you responded to his call, a smile spreading on your face almost at once.
“Hi, beautiful,” his sweet voice came to your ear a second after. “I just landed.”
“How was your flight? You sound tired,” you noted.
“I didn’t get much sleep on the flight. But we’re on the way to the hotel and hopefully I can sleep before I begin with the promotional activities,” his tone dropped slightly, then he paused pensively before: “I can’t wait till I’m back home. I miss you already.”
A spasm in your chest made you choke out. “I miss you too, babe,” you replied, sneaking a look to Jeonghan walking back to you.
“I’ll call you when I’m at the hotel,” Joshua said. “I have to go.”
“Okay,” you mumbled. “Love you.”
“I love you too, baby.”
Jeonghan sat down beside you again, a knowing look on his face as he motioned a question with one movement of his head. “Everything okay?”
You tucked your phone between your thighs again. “Yeah. Everything’s okay. Josh just landed,” you sighed and looked back at him. “You?”
Jeonghan nodded when he saw your assurance. “These brats were trying to grab my attention,” he said with a hint of annoyance, which was quickly replaced with a cheeky smile. “They want to know who you are.”
“Oh, are they your friends?” you asked, sending a quick glance to the small group of performers gathered to one side of the stage. You caught the eye of one of the men. And you recognized him right away.
Jeonghan leaned back on the seat, crossing one leg as he nodded. “My friends first. Then I tried to get them into castings, and when I got my company settled they were there every step of the way.”
“They seem… fun,” you frowned, paying attention to the commotion that was starting to take place in the small group of Jeonghan’s friends. “I know one of them.”
“Who, Seokmin?” he guessed right away.
“Yeah, he was–,”
“Joshua’s flatmate, yeah. I introduced them,” he smirked.
“And you think it’s okay to introduce them to me like this?” you asked sheepishly.
“Well, we don’t have to give any explanation,” he shrugged. “But I do see how this could be uncomfortable for you.”
“I just don’t want people close to Joshua to think that I’m cheating on him,” you whispered, dropping your gaze to your hands.
Jeonghan stilled. “Yeah, I didn’t think of that,” he sighed with a hint of disappointment. “Maybe we could do this another way.”
Your heart deflated at once. “I still want to meet them.”
He pondered about it for a second. “I don’t want people to think you cheated on Joshua either,” he agreed, pursing his lips. “Tell you what, let’s wait for another opportunity. With a lot more privacy.”
You looked around the theatre room, catching several pairs of curious eyes on both you and Jeonghan. “Yeah, you’re right.”
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After being with him all day in what truly felt like a regular day you would spend with a partner, Jeonghan took you to dinner with him, and went for a stroll, talking about everything and nothing while holding hands.
It had been a nice time, but more pressing matters distracted you: work. You needed to work since the last few days your focus was on enjoying Joshua’s last days at home.
“Are you… staying the night?” you asked as the car turned down the street you lived in.
Jeonghan had one hand on the steering wheel, and the other was clasped with yours. “No, baby, not tonight,” he decided after two long seconds.
“Can I ask why?” you asked with caution.
“I have to do some work early tomorrow. Plus, I don’t have clothes, or a toothbrush,” he replied with a shrug.
You looked at your hands laced together. “You can bring some of your things, so you can stay someday… if you want.”
You hated how tiny and vulnerable you sounded. But you did not want to spend the night alone.
But Jeonghan did not notice, his focus was on pulling to the curb right in front of your building. “I’ll bring some in, baby,” he replied aloofly.
“Okay,” you replied begrudgingly.
But you did not make a motion to exit the car yet, your seatbelt was still put on, your hand still in his. Jeonghan smiled, noticing your reluctance. “Come here,” he breathed, leaning towards you, a pair of fingers slipping beneath your jaw to kiss your lips tenderly. “See you tomorrow?”
“See you tomorrow, Hannie,” you replied with a sweet smile like his.    
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Midnight Haze Rocks the World: New Album Breaks Streaming Records in 24 Hours
Read the headline on your monitor screen. A picture of the three members of Midnight Haze appeared on top of the article published that morning. It was the third day since Joshua left for his first tour with his band Midnight Haze. And as expected, the internet flooded with overwhelming love for their phenomenal skyrocketing to success.
As such, a lot of eyes were posed on Joshua. A deluge of articles and videos were coming out every day, about his personal life, about his artistic process to write his lyrics, and speculations about his lovers.
Joshua was right. There was a huge part of Midnight Haze’s following that suspected he had a partner. And there was an even larger part that suspected that he was no more than a womanizer.
To some extent, it was painful to read some of the things you found online. And as much as you wanted to avoid it, you could not. So you did what you knew best: bury yourself in work.
Midnight Haze Sold-Out World Tour Breaks Box Office Records
It had been ten days since Joshua left.
His texts came less often. Same as his phone calls. Whenever he did call or text, he said he was busy, stressed. But he was trying to keep in touch with you. And that was all that mattered.
Midnight Haze’s Joshua Hong and Mysterious Woman Spark Romance Rumors at Exclusive Event
It was fourteen days since Joshua left. It was becoming more difficult to ignore the headlines and rumours created around him to draw in attention from the public and his fans. Although he seemed more consumed by the fast-paced nature of his job, he still called everyday.
Deciding you had your fill of nonsense you found online, you rested your head in your arm, sighing deeply in exhaustion.
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“Baby, wake up,” Jeonghan’s soothing voice pulled you from your dreams.
You lifted your head abruptly, drawing in a breath. “I’m up,” you blurted sluggishly. “What’s up?”
Jeonghan giggled as you rubbed your eyes. You were in your studio, sitting on your armchair. There was drool smeared on your cheek, as you came to find out when you rubbed your face.
“You fell asleep,” Jeonghan pointed, giving you a kind smile. “Let’s go to bed.”
“When did you get here?” you slurred out. The room had darkened, the only source of light coming from your double monitor idle screens.
“Just got here,” he said, and you had started to notice the hint of concern in his voice. “Go to bed, so you can sleep better.”
You turned to your screen to look at the time. You had been asleep like this for nearly four hours. “Oh no,” you gasped. “I slept for too long. I must keep working.”
“Why?” he asked slowly. “You’re clearly tired, baby. Sleep some more and come back when you feel more refreshed.”
“Mmn,” you pondered his request for a second. You ran your sleeve over the tiny puddle of drool on your desk and looked at him.
Jeonghan was standing beside you, looking at you as if you were a baby in your crib. “You missed here,” he whispered, bringing the tip of his finger to the corner of your lips.
You slapped your hand to your lips, wiping the drool that was there.
He giggled. “Come on, princess, let’s go to bed,” he egged, motioning to the door to the bedroom.
You shook your head. “I want tea,” you pushed yourself from the chair.
“Tsk,” he sighed heavily, but he followed you down the hall, nonetheless.
“I don’t want to hear it,” you mumbled groggily, knowing what was coming.
“You’re overworking yourself again, Princess,” he reprimanded.
“Here we go,” you said in a sing-song tone.
“Just rest for a day!” he suggested with earnest. “You’ll feel better, and probably will get more work done.”
“I can’t rest, the deadline to submitting the first draft is nearer,” you protested as you got to the kitchen, getting to the electric kettle, filling it with water and turning it on. “And I’m nowhere near done this draft.”
“There is nothing wrong with taking a break for one day,” Jeonghan tilted his head to one side, his brown eyes following you. “Just take a break for once.”
You locked eyes with him, now considering his request.
“For me,” he added, the corners of his lips tightening, trying not to break into a smile.
“Pfft,” you scoffed loudly when he finally gave in, laughing merrily at his own cheesy addition. “See, I was considering it, until you said that,” you pointed.
“Please?” he said, bringing a halt to his laughs and his features took on a more serious look. “Just for tonight.”
“Okay. Just for tonight,” you conceded, heart fluttering uneasily when he smiled in victory. “Tea?” you raised your eyebrows.
“Sure,” he muttered, nodding with his head once. He had crossed his arms on his chest, his eyes trained on you as you moved in the kitchen. “Did you stay up writing last night?” he pried.
“And the night before that,” you sighed, handing him a mug of tea with milk. “It’s just not going well.”
“Can I ask why?” he leaned back on the kitchen counter.
“It’s just a writer’s block,” you shrugged, but both of you knew that was not true.
“What is the problem?” he asked again, his tone was gentle, it gave you that cozy sense of familiarity he never failed to give you.
“I just can’t…” you started faintly, toying with the teaspoon. “I’m out of ideas. I planned the whole book, the whole trilogy, but I just can’t string them together. I’m paying too much attention to tiny details, and I can’t get my creativity flowing.”
Jeonghan pursed his lips. “It seems like you have the problem narrowed down.”
“Yeah,” you said dejectedly. “I just can’t solve it.”
“Well, stepping back can help,” he shrugged, flashing you a knowing look. “Maybe you need to… reframe your initial ideas.”
It was reasonable that Jeonghan had experience with this. His line of work is very similar to yours, in some way. Even if he did not always write the plays he directs, he knew what a creative block was.
You rolled your eyes to the ceiling, humming pensively as you tried to retrieve your answer. “I wanted this book to be like a bridge gapping the first and the third book but, now it just feels like I’ve written myself into a corner.”
“Don’t say that,” he protested, leaving his mug aside. “I get that you’re stressed and the deadline and all that,” a hand reached out to grab yours, gently pulling you towards him. “But you’re talented and smart enough to get out of any corner you find yourself in.”
His arm circled on your lower back, and your hand fell on his chest. It brought a smile to your face to hear his words. “Thank you, Jeonghan,” you said. “You’re right. I just focused on the smallest details, now I feel jaded.”
He nodded in understanding. “I know how that feels,” he said, his kind voice lowering a little. “Listen, why don’t we just relax for now? Continue tomorrow, take it one step at a time, see where that gets you.”
You nodded, sighing deeply. “Alright.”
Jeonghan smiled cutely at you, making tiny dimples appear on his chin. “You got this, baby,” he mumbled.
“Thank you, Jeonghan,” you whispered, meekly pushing yourself on your tiptoes to reach his lips with a kiss.
“Don’t thank me,” he breathed, his other hand came up to cup the back of your head, his fingers tangling with your hair. He slotted his lips between yours, and you tasted the sweetness of green tea mixed with sugar in his kiss.
“Mmn,” your hands found his face. Jeonghan’s kisses were always tender, and delicate. Almost as if kissing the petals of a rose. Even during make-out sessions, just as this moment was turning into, he kept his lips gentle on yours.
But he pulled away too quickly, sucking in a breath between his teeth. Dropping his head back, he stared at the ceiling. Jeonghan had been doing this for the past few days: stopping himself before the kissing went too far.
“What’s wrong?” you mumbled.
He shook his head silently, and then he lowered his eyes to meet yours. “Let’s go to bed,” he suggested, taking your hand again.
“Okay,” you whispered, a coy smile appearing on your face.
“Knock it off,” he snapped, but he started smiling too.
“I didn’t do anything!” you giggled as he took you to the bedroom. “What’s with that serious face? I thought you were onto something.”
“Careful, princess,” he cautioned, but you heard the hint of playfulness in his tone.
“Or what?” you smirked as you sat down on your bed and kept your eyes on him as he emptied the pockets of his black sweats on the nightstand. His phone, the keys to his car and apartment, and a green vape pen.
“Or nothing,” he huffed, motioning at the bed. “Are you going to lie down?”
“Yeah, I just…” you saw him lie down on the mattress; legs spread wide open. You sighed.  “I’ll change into pjs,” you announced, a smirk painted on your face as you rose to your feet, stripping your cozy pullover with one movement and then your pants.
“Tsk,” he clicked his tongue and reached for his vape pen, tucking it between his rosy lips. Even as you turned your back to him, you knew his eyes were on your semi-naked body. You sent him a glance to confirm your suspicions were true and smiled.
“Don’t smoke in my bedroom,” you chastised him, but your tone was made insecure by his eyes staring at you.
“I’m not smoking,” he mumbled faintly, and his statement was true. He had not drawn from his vape pen yet, but he kept it tucked between his lips.
You finished smoothing Joshua’s oversized t-shirt over your frame and walked to the bed. Jeonghan watched you crawl to where he occupied the mattress, which was your side of the bed.
“What does it taste like?” you wondered, tilting your head in curiosity.
Jeonghan said nothing, he just handed you his vape pen, matching your curiosity with his eyes. And you took it, you tried to mimic his movements you always saw him do by tucking the tip between your lips. A faint smirk appeared on his face when you sent him a glance and sucked in a breath from the vape pen.
You started coughing at once. The light smoke invaded your throat and coating it with an overly sweet taste, making it impossible to get an actual experience of what Jeonghan was so addicted to. He chuckled as your coughing died.
“It’s slowly, baby,” he instructed, taking the vape pen from your hand gently and motioned your eyes to him. “Like taking a small sip from a straw.”
He took a draw from the vape pen slowly, his throat bobbing as he seemingly swallowed the smoke, and then exhaled it through his mouth and nose.
“Try it.”
You sent him a reluctant look, but took the pen to your mouth, nonetheless. Slowly, you sucked in a breath once again, getting a taste of the green apple flavor that reminded you of Jeonghan. Then you quickly blew the light smoke with your lips.
“That was disappointing,” you mumbled. 
“What did you expect?” he chuckled.
“This is what you’re so addicted to?” you raised your eyebrows, giving the pen back to him.
“No,” he rolled his eyes. “I was that or tobacco. And I just need to keep my hands and mouth busy. This helps,” he signaled to the vape pen.
“Hands and mouth busy, eh?” you smirked.
“Shut up,” he hissed, but a wide smile took over the features of his face.
“Make me,” you whispered, zeroing your eyes on him in a tantalizing way.
Jeonghan paused, the only sign that he was not expecting you say that was a single twitch of an eyebrow. He took a long draw, an even longer one, that went on for seconds, filling his chest out with smoke.
“Come here,” he said, not letting go of even a ghost of smoke through his lips. He extended one arm, his hand cupping your cheek, holding your face inches away from his. “Open your mouth.”
You instinctively parted your lips, just as he exhaled the smoke he had been holding in his chest, pouring it into your mouth. It felt cold, it tasted like green apples, it filled your senses with the taste of him as you exhaled.
Jeonghan sealed your lips with a kiss so soft it had you asking for more. You moaned, a hand coming to hold his face to help you kiss him harder, enticingly. “Princess,” he grunted through your continued attacks with your lips. “You need to rest.”
You pulled away from his lips, looking at him in utter disbelief. “Okay,” you frowned.
Rejected, you lied down on the opposite side of the bed to Jeonghan, turning over so your back was to him. Your heart deflated with pangs of pain at each beat, your mind riddled with questions as to why he was keeping you at arm’s length.
You jolted in surprise when Jeonghan’s arm encircled your waist, nuzzling his face in your hair. Just as he did the last time he slept in your bed.
“Are we just cuddling?” you sulked.
“Yep. Just cuddling,” he mumbled, scooting his body to yours so he could perfectly spoon you.
“Why?” you whispered, closing your eyes to push down the tears trying to sting them. You felt ridiculous.
“You need to rest,” he repeated with a calming tone.
“Jeonghan,” you turned over to see his face. “Did I do something wrong?”
He frowned. “No,” he shook his head. “Why do you say that?”
“You haven’t been… as physical as usual,” you mumbled out with caution. “I’m beginning to think that I’m doing something wrong.”
Jeonghan blinked, an alarmed look settling in the features of his face. “I just wanted to take my time with you,” he said, gentleness coating his words. Once he saw your features relax, he continued: “We started with the wrong foot. I wanted you to get to know me outside of the sexual aspect, you know?”
“But I do know you outside of the sexual aspect,” you blurted. “You’re my best friend.”
As soon as the words left your mouth, you wished to take them back. 
“That’s not…” Jeonghan sighed with a frustrated air. “When you mentioned the steps to a relationship, I thought we could take it slow, and let you know me intimately.”
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, yanking your gaze from his face.
“No, I’m sorry,” he replied in the same fashion. “I never wanted to make you feel rejected.”
You noticed for the first time, how struggling it was for him to speak out his inner thoughts. He was an excellent communicator sometimes, but it was different when it came to his feelings.
“It’s okay,” you reassured, now enclosing the space between you on the bed, so you could entangle your body with his. “But I’m confused. I do know you intimately.”
He shook his head lightly. “You mean as your friend,” he said wearily. “I mean as a boyfriend.”
Your heart stopped, and the moment between you too. In all the past few weeks you have been with Jeonghan, in all the considerations you were trying to bring into the relationship, you somehow thought that was a given.
“Wait,” he blurted, closed his eyes tightly and then: “I want to ask you formally.”
You blinked at him, a smile slowly curving your lips. “It’s okay,” you repeated. “I’d like that, Jeongjeong.”
“You would?” he smirked. “I’m sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve done serious relationships. And I’m old. So, I don’t know what’s in anymore.”
“You’re not old,” you said slowly. “And I don’t know what’s in either, so… Chances are that whatever you have in mind is something I like.”
“Okay,” he sighed, looking more relaxed, but then he pressed his lips into a tight line. “Just so you know, it was never within my intentions to make you feel like I don’t want you.”
“It’s okay,” you reassured with a light smile. “It was just confusing to me why you didn’t want to be physical anymore.”
Jeonghan let out a low chuckle. “Princess, believe me, there’s nothing more I want right now,” he rolled his eyes in shame. “Especially when you undress yourself in front of me, doing those sounds when I kiss you.”
You had to laugh at his face in complete frustration. “Well, if you had said something about it, I wouldn’t have teased you so much,” you pouted.
“Ah, really?” he snickered. “Really, princess? I don’t believe that for a second,” he emphasized.
“Why, don’t I get the benefit of the doubt?”
“Not when you’re both mine and Joshua’s partner, mm-mmn,” he negated with his head on the pillow.
“What is that supposed to mean?” you asked, though pointlessly. 
“You’re a tease,” he said with an obvious tone. “You know what will work on me because it works on him.”  
“Mmph,” you hummed thoughtfully. “You know I don’t see it like that.”
But it did sound familiar to something Joshua said a couple of months ago. It was something that you had started to find very real: Jeonghan and Joshua were so similar to the point it could be eerie. And it did not seem impressive to Joshua that Jeonghan would find you attractive, because he also did.
“Let’s go to sleep,” he said after taking a look at your face.
“Okay,” you conceded, turning over again to be cuddled by his body.
Some moments later, you could still hear him breathing normally. His movements were kept at minimum, but you knew he was still awake. He shifted slightly behind you, you heard the rustle of the bedsheets, when he moved his head on your pillow.
You just closed your eyes, trying to fall asleep but his body behind you was too distracting, your feet bumped into his, the warmth pooling inside your tummy making you smile.
Jeonghan shifted again on the bed, encircling his arm around your waist languidly, now his body fully pressed against yours. You could understand the reason why he struggled to find a position to rest with your body close to his.
“Are you okay?” you breathed.
He blinked, darting a look to your face. “Yeah, I’m just…” he sighed, smiling shyly at you. “You’re very warm.”
“You don’t like it?” you frowned. “We don’t have to cuddle, we could–,”
“I do like it,” he cut in. “That’s not the problem.”
“Then what is?” you mumbled, giggling softly at his indecision.
When you went to bed, you had forgotten to close the blinds completely, a faint light coming from the windows painted his face in a pale white color. You could see his eyes properly as he contemplated his answer.
“I don’t think I can wait much longer,” he mumbled, laughing sheepishly at his own demise. “I thought I could, but I guess I’m not so strong when it comes to you.”
Jeonghan had his arm folded and tucked under his head, so that way his eyes lowered to find your face as you turned over, your back pressed against the mattress.
“Well, you’ve been edging me and yourself for nearly two weeks now,” you said, smiling at him as he laughed harder. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I want to be a good boyfriend to you,” he pursed his lip into a pout. But his hand parked on your tummy over your t-shirt.
Your heart stammered in your chest frantically, making your blood rush to your face. “You are a good boyfriend, Jeonghan,” you mumbled, flashing him a cheeky smile. “You can be a good boyfriend and have sex with me.”  
“I–,” he broke into an airy laugh, squeezing his eyes in utter shyness. “Don’t tempt me, princess. You’re tired and haven’t slept well.”
“Mmn, okay,” you said, but you could see it in his eyes: Jeonghan wanted you. His rosy lips parted slightly, his heavy-lidded eyes reading your face. “Come here, baby,” you whispered, sneaking a hand on his nape to pull him to your face.
Jeonghan reciprocated the need of your lips without skipping a second. The strangled sound that coiled in his throat only egged you on, your hands slid from his nape to graze his scalp with the tips of your fingers.
“Call me that again,” he breathed gruffly into your mouth as he repositioned his body on top of yours.
You paused, looking at his face that was now hovering on top of yours. “Baby,” you hummed, an ecstatic shudder shaking you when he saw the fascination flash in his eyes. “Kiss me… please.”
Jeonghan leaned down but stopped before he could reach your lips, a smile broke the features of his face. “You’re going to be the death of me. You know that, right?”
The tip of his nose bumped with yours playfully taunting you before he slotted his pretty lips with yours. You felt the weight of the pillows shifting when he placed his forearms on the sides of your head, caging you in. Blindly, you parted your legs for him just as he slotted himself between them.
He kept kissing you, he never stopped. The softness to which he was kissing you made you drunk, wanting more. “Hannie…” you whispered, turning your head as his lips kissed the apple of your cheek, trailing down to the line of your jaw.
“Tell me what you want,” he mumbled faintly, his breath fanning a spot below your earlobe.
You recounted in your head every sexual experience you have had with Jeonghan so far. Narrowing down what had made you so dissatisfied the last time you had sex with him was easy: there was a lack of connection with him. One that you craved deeply.
“I want you–,” you gasped when his lips reached your collarbone, as he pushed back his body, his hands retreated from your sides, finding the hem of your oversized t-shirt. His hands were cold upon sliding on your tummy. “I don’t care how, just do anything you like.”
A flash of déjà vu hit you hard. Jeonghan lifted his head from the curve of your neck, his long dark hair obscuring his eyes. “Anything?” he asked, tilting his head to one side slowly. “There must be something you need, princess.”
“I don’t know,” you smiled at him sheepishly.
Jeonghan leaned forward, his fingers trapping your chin. “I’ll do anything you tell me to,” he purred right before capturing your lips with his for a shallow kiss. “You call the shots, baby.”
Your breath hitched; his hand came to cup your cheek. “Keep going, please,” you muttered, though it was not necessary, his lips were still on yours, giving you soft pecks.
Jeonghan gave you no verbal reply, but he kept kissing you anyway, each kiss tenderer than the one before. It made you dizzy, the softness that he put with every touch.
“Jeonghan,” you put a hand on the center of his chest, bringing a stop to his sweet kisses at once. His dark eyes locked with yours, giving you the confidence you needed. “Can you be rough with me?”
Upon hearing your request, he stilled completely. “How rough?” he asked, much as if he did not give a second thought to your words, nor pause to ask why. He knew this was what you needed.  
“Just do it,” you asked, your tone waning over the nervousness that kicked right in. “I promise I won’t break.”
“I know you won’t,” he smirked, diving for another shallow kiss, laughing softly at the low grunt you gave him in protest.
Then he kissed you again. Harder this time, showing you how much he had been holding back. Before his touch had been delicate and tender. But now, his kiss was forceful, passionate. He crushed your lips, making you muffle out a moan in his hot mouth. 
“Want me to fuck your brains out, baby?” he rasped, backing away to take a look at your face. The lascivious glint in his eyes was unmistakable, and so eerily familiar.
“Yes, please,” you mewled, your hands snaked from his chest to clutch at his neck.
Jeonghan sighed in your mouth. “You needy little thing. You really are made for us.”
“I am,” you replied in a frenzy, returning each needy kiss he planted in your mouth.
A hand pushed your t-shirt up to your chest, uncovering your tits to him. “Do you know how fucking much I love these?” he rasped, sending you a look before dipping his head to litter your skin with kisses.
His lips attached to one of your nipples, his tongue toying with your pebbled bud, to then suckle at it with a smacking noise. “Fuck-k, baby,” you mewled, your fingers tangling with his long dark hair, giving it a soft tug.
“Mmn,” he searched for one of your hands on his head, grabbing it and driving it to the mattress. No touching, he wordlessly commanded, locking his fingers with yours.
“Sorry,” you whispered. “God, fuck,” you squirmed helplessly, the back of his tongue teased your nipple, swirling around it and suckling at it hungrily.
His free hand fumbled your other breast, his fingers pinching and tugging your hardened nipple as his mouth continued to work on the other, making it sensitive. He detached his mouth with a wet sound, his eyes marvelled at your body for a second as he released your hand.
“Behave,” he conditioned before leaning down again to tease your other nipple with his mouth.
First his lips tugged at it, to then graze at it with his teeth, making a sharp hiss come out from you. You lowered your gaze, finding his. Jeonghan smiled at you, pulling his tongue out to tease your nipple, swirling around it.
You sighed out the pleasure burning within you, sinking in the pillows as your skin prickled. “Please… more,” you mewled, your hands clawing on the bedsheets. “Keep going, Hannie, please.”
The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, but the motion of his tipped tongue did not stop. His hands cupped your tits, making them bulge, and he lowered his face onto your chest. The low grunt that he muffled in your tits told you that he was enjoying sucking at your nipples just as much as you.
You closed your eyes, focusing on the pleasure building in the pit of your tummy, your muscles clenched in response when he sucked harsher, then changed to toy with your nipple with swift motions.
“Ha-hannie,” you called shakily. “I think I’m gonna come.”
For a moment, you thought Jeonghan had not heard you. He made no move, no sound to acknowledge your words. He just kept going: sucking, licking, pinching your sensitive nipples. Drool dripped down on your bumpy skin, the wet sounds Jeonghan made, paired with the low groans he gave you whenever you moaned. 
“Oh god… I’m coming,” you choked out, hands clenching around the bedsheets. Your orgasm flooded within you, it was quick and sweet, and even though the feeling was short, it had you panting. And wanting more.
Jeonghan hummed with satisfaction, leaving a kiss on each of your nipples before meeting your eyes. “Was that a first?”
You recognized where his game was going at once. “Yeah,” you sighed with a meek smile. “It felt good. I needed that.”
“Mn, princess, you’re such a needy mess,” he said gruffly, his hand caressing your bumpy skin over your tummy. “Is that why you can’t write, baby? Too much in your head?”
“Think so,” you replied coyly.
Jeonghan sat back on his heels, contemplating you for a second under the pale light coming from the window. “These need to come off,” he toyed with the band of your wet panties with his lithe fingers.
He hooked his fingers around the hem of your panties, pulling them down your legs with your help, lifting your hips for him.
“No, not that. Keep that on,” he instructed when he caught sight of your hands trying to get rid of your t-shirt.
Then he stretched one arm, reaching for something on the nightstand. Your heart stammered when he grabbed his phone. “Are you ready for this?” he asked, sending you a glance.
“Yeah,” you replied.
The flash of the camera hit your eyes, making you squint at it. But you quickly adapted, seeing Jeonghan’s fascinated face behind his phone as he directed it to your naked body. He caught on video everything he liked to see: your face, your tits smeared in his spit, and your pussy.
“You got so wet, baby,” he mumbled, making a trail with the tips of his fingers from your bellybutton to your mound, caressing it. “Baby needs to be fucked everyday, or she can’t function properly. Right, princess?”
The white light returned to your face, you nodded. “J-jeonghan!”
His fingers continued trailing down, finding your pussy lips spread open. “So fucking wet,” he sighed in awe, dipping one finger in your pooling entrance. “You got like this just by playing with your tits a little…”
Another finger joined in, pushing inside your throbbing walls as the phone captured it in video.
“Jeonghan,” you protested. “Please, just fuck me.”
“Stay still, baby,” his voice was low whenever he gave you a command, and that way you knew not to challenge him again. “I’ll give you what you want if you promise to be good.”
You sighed in frustration. “I promise,” you hated the way your voice sounded.
That seemed to please him. The flash of the camera went off, Jeonghan tossed his phone on the bed near your body, pulling his fingers out of your pussy.
The loss of stimulation had you protesting with a lewd whine. “So impatient,” he tutted. Then he nodded his head at you. “Knees up.”  
His hand pushed on the back of your leg, making your chest compress a little right before he dipped his head to your needy pussy, his tongue swiping a line between your folds. Your muscles tightened under the overwhelming sensation of his tongue licking your arousal, drinking you in.
“Fuck,” you gritted, your hands flew to grab your own legs to keep yourself in place for him.
You heard a muffled laugh, his breath fanning your wet pussy causing you to shiver. The tip of his nose bumped against your clit as his tongue sank inside you, then retreated, only to dive in again, his face pressed flush against you, fucking you with his tongue.
A strangled gasp escaped you, his tongue left your pussy and was quickly replaced by his fingers, slipping them in until he was knuckle deep inside you. But his tongue slid to your clit, teasing it with swift jabs, getting it to swell by teasing it with his lips, tugging and suckling at it.
“Oh, g-god,” your body shook on the bed sheets, your eyes squeezed shut so tight you started to see colors.
The low hum he gave you was paired with one deep intake of breath on his part, breathing you in practically, his mouth unrelenting on your pussy. His fingers kept dragging inside and out of your throbbing walls, delighting himself with moans each time you clenched around him.
“Fuck, Hannie,” you mewled, pushing your head back onto your pillow. “Don’t stop, baby, please…”
Jeonghan pushed his face onto your cunt harder, groaning against you as his fingers thrusted inside you harshly, curving inside your walls and finding that spot effortlessly. Your mouth fell open, pelvis tilting towards his face. All focus, was narrowed to his mouth making out with your pussy, his fingers teasing that spot inside your walls.
“I’m there,” you sighed out. “Jeonghan, I’m coming,” you let out a long cry of pleasure, body shaking on your bed.
Your orgasm washed down your spine, burning inside you. His fingers kept thrusting inside you, his mouth helping you ride your high without stopping for a second to breathe. Just as you were coming down, he detached his mouth from your throbbing pussy, but his fingers did not.
“Jeonghan?” you panted.
His fingers kept teasing that spot inside you, the force from his hand on your cunt had started to make a single vein pop out along his forearm. “Can you give me one more, baby?” he asked, his free hand reaching for the phone he had discarded earlier.
“I… yeah,” you decided, holding your legs to your chest with your hands.
The camera flashed your eyes again. “Good girl,” he whispered, capturing the mess that you were in. It occurred to you that Jeonghan did not want you to remove the t-shirt you were wearing… he wanted to fuck you in it for Joshua to see.
He pointed the camera at his hand pumping in and out of your puffy cunt, the wet sounds coming from it sounded loud and almost dirty. His fingers picked up the pace, now teasing relentlessly inside you, making you gasp and jolt at each harsh jab.
“J-jeonghan!” you cried out.
“Careful, we can’t make too much noise, remember?” he smirked at you.
“I-if you keep going, I’m gonna… I’m gonna–,” you choked out, arching your back on the mattress as the hot liquid spurting from you landed onto his hand and the bed.
Jeonghan smiled, his fascinated eyes flitting from the screen of the phone capturing the mess you were making, to your body writhing on the wet sheets. “Tsk, messy girl,” you heard him say between the loud wet noises and your own breathless moans.
To see him smile sent you onto another wild frenzy. You moaned as his fingers left your throbbing pussy, his other hand tossing his phone heedlessly. Then, Jeonghan grabbed his t-shirt, peeling it off his torso with one swift motion.
“Remind me to put a towel under you next time,” he smirked, using his own t-shirt to wipe your arousal and his own spit from his chin, then his hands.
You sighed, embarrassment heating your face, but you could not deny that you liked this. And Jeonghan saw right through you. He leaned over to you, capturing your lips in a kiss, he smelled of you, and you could taste yourself in his mouth. The act was so dirty it had him swallowing your moans, your pussy clenching around nothing.
“Jeonghan… I want you to fuck me, please,” you whined when he pulled his head back.
“Do you think you deserve it?” he asked, his voice was low and slightly raspy.
“Yeah?” you smiled coyly.
“Why shouldn’t I edge you a little bit more?” he grabbed your legs, wrapping them around his waist, as he pressed his chest against yours, grinding his hips against yours.
The bulge of his hard cock pressed against your cunt. “Jeonghan,” you gasped when he ground against you harder, teasing you. “You’ve been edging me for days now.”
“You said I could do anything I wanted to you,” he smirked, his hand grabbing your jaw before pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. “
“But I want you now,” you mumbled wantonly.
“Don’t argue with me,” he retorted, the glint in his eyes giving away the playfulness behind his actions.
“Stop teasing me, Jeonghan,” you whispered, your hands holding onto his back as he kept rubbing his hard dick against you, smearing your wetness all over his boxers. “Please, I need you, baby,” you whined pathetically.
He dived for another hungry kiss. “God, you’re so fucking needy,” he protested, but his tone made him sound just as pathetic.
“Don’t mock me, Jeonghan,” you bit back. You should not have done that.
The slap came to your face in the blink of an eye, it was swift and painful, but the wave of both excitement and arousal barreled down your spine, making you gasp. Your widened eyes found his face, gaping at him as your cheek tingled.
“I told you not to argue with me,” Jeonghan laughed, and the sound of his laughter sent a wave of shame that burned in your face.  
A low moan escaped you when his hard cock rubbed against your swollen clit. “Jeonghan, please fuck me. Fuck me now,” you pleaded with a whiny tone, ignoring how pathetic you sounded, or felt.  
“That’s it, baby. Beg for me,” he purred, nibbling at your lower lip right before kissing you. His tongue caressed the roof of your mouth, making you whimper at the sensation.
Then you understood what he was doing, he pushed his boxers down, freeing his pretty cock. He grabbed it with one hand, one thumb pressing down his tip, directing it to your pussy. And just when you thought he was finally going to fuck you, he decided to do something else.
“I don’t hear you begging,” he said, fucking his cock between your pussy lips, making his tone waver. A low grunt escaped his lips, and you responded with your own.
“Please,” you breathed.
“Please, what.”
“Fuck me,” you mumbled, regretting the minute you asked him to be mean with you. But you could not lie to yourself, you liked this. You liked seeing his cock glistening wet with your arousal.
“I am fucking you,” he chuckled airily, pushing his hips against you so his tip nudged your entrance, but slipped between your folds.
“I need you inside me, Jeonghan,” you whimpered as his shaft rubbed against your clit. “N-need your cock inside me, please.”
“That’s better,” he sighed, retracting his hips to then sheathe himself inside you with one full thrust. He lowered the upper half of his body to yours, repositioning his arms above your head.
“F-fuck, Jeonghan…” you gritted as his cock filled your walls. You sighed in pleasure, finding his face with your hands to pull him in a kiss.
You saw something flash across the features of his face, making him groan as his lips met yours. “God,” he gasped. “I love how you squeeze around me, baby.”
“Y-yeah?” you breathed pathetically.
“Mmn, yeah. Your pretty little c-cunt feels like magic,” he shuddered in pleasure, grunting in your mouth before kissing you again.
“It’s yours, Hannie,” you replied dazedly.
“I know,” he grinned, his hand finding the back of your knee, pushing it to your side to hold you open for him. “You’re such a needy slut for us, right?”
A wave of arousal tore through you. “Yes,” you breathed. “I am.”
Jeonghan noticed your demeanor, your eyes glazing and mouth parting in utter pleasure. “Wait,” he stilled. “Turn over for me, baby,” Jeonghan pulled his body, sitting back on his heels as you reluctantly turned facedown on the bed. “Ass up.”
Then on your side, Jeonghan handed you his phone, the front camera was already recording. You grabbed it and searched for somewhere to place it, deciding for to put it against the lamp on your bedside table. You saw yourself on the screen and Jeonghan on his knees behind you.
Through the screen you saw Jeonghan sneaking a hand between your body and his, then felt the tip of his cock searching for your entrance. A strangled moan came out of you as he sheathed himself in, a hand pushing your lower back down for you to tilt your pelvis for him.
“God,” he groaned, his head lolling back, grabbing your hips with his hands as he fucked you slowly.
You were too entranced by watching his face through the recording to focus on his cock massaging your walls.
“You feel so fucking good, princess,” he swallowed a moan, making his throat bob. 
“Y-you too, Hannie,” you responded faintly, lowering your face back onto the bed covers to see him through the screen of his phone.
“No, no. I want Joshua to see your face,” Jeonghan rasped, grabbing you by the hair, pulling your head upward with little to no heed for you.
The sheer thought of Joshua seeing this made you clench around Jeonghan’s cock. He moaned in response too, his fingers digging into your skin, squeezing your ass firmly as his other hand kept pulling your hair.
“Jeonghan,” you called breathily, the hard thrusting had you panting already. The rails of your bed banged against the wall with the pacing of his thrusts. “Harder. Fuck me harder.”
Jeonghan laughed, ignoring you completely. He pulled your hair firmly, making sure the camera captured your teary eyes. “Jeonghan, please.”
“Alright, alright,” he conceded, placing his hands on the middle of your spine, pushing your chest onto the mattress. “You asked for it.”
You could no longer see yourself on the video, your face was mushed against the covers, giving you space to cry out as Jeonghan started pounding on you. The brutal pace of his thrusts knocked the air out of you, the sound of skin slapping against each other was the only thing you could hear above your muffled cries.
“Jeonghan!” you forced out, your sweet release flooding inside your body. “Oh, god, Hannie…”
“That’s it, baby,” he rasped. “God. Keep squeezing me like that,” his hands clenched on your ass, switching the motion to his hands, fucking you on his cock instead of moving his hips. “Fuck,” he gritted with a sigh. “Yeah, just like that…”
You gathered yourself, breathing in slowly as you lifted your head. In the screen of his phone, you saw him looking at your body, moving your hips to meet with his languidly.
“Hand me the phone, baby,” he made a motion with his head.
You reached for his phone in your nightstand and passed it to him, turning your head to see what he was doing. He was now pointing the camera lens to your ass, and you knew that he was capturing your messy cunt, filled with his cum as he kept pushing his cock inside you.
He was panting when he tossed the phone one final time. “Are you okay?” he asked breathlessly. “Want more?”
You shook your head. “I’m sensitive,” you admitted. And you were so tired that all you wanted now was to rest in the pleasure he had given you.
Jeonghan nodded, caressing your ass gently before pulling out of you. “Lie down, baby,” he muttered as you just eased onto the bed with a tired sigh. “I’ll bring you something to clean up, hold on.”
The bed shifted around you when he climbed off the bed and exited the bedroom. You closed your eyes, breathing out in pure bliss, enjoying how languid your body was after being pleasured over and over.
You heard him come in. “Turn over for me, princess,” he mumbled with a sweet voice. He had a towel in his hand, soaked in warm water. “What do you need?”
“Sleep,” you slurred out. 
Jeonghan nodded. “Do you have clean blankets?”
“In the closet,” you said, pointing to the double doors in the bedroom.
Jeonghan got a bundle of blankets, spreading them over your naked body to then slip beneath them and next to you. As you searched for his body to hold him, you realized that he had not slept naked with you before.
“Thank you, Jeonghan,” you hummed happily, wrapping your arms around his torso.
“For what, baby?”
“For taking care of me,” you mumbled, your heart swelling with warmth and love. “And for fucking my brains out.”
Jeonghan chuckled, his hand brushing your hair slowly. “Anything for you.” 
“Do you think we’ll get another noise complaint after this?” you asked sluggishly.
“If they come to the door, I’ll deal with it,” he said decidedly. “Sleep for now.”
You lifted your head to give him a kiss. “Goodnight, baby.”
Jeonghan gave you a sweet smile. “Goodnight, princess.”
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“We have a date tonight,” Jeonghan announced the morning after.
“We do?” you asked. “You know, I’d appreciate it if you invite me out with more time in advance.”
“I forgot to tell you last night… you kept me busy,” Jeonghan rasped sleepily, his arm wrapped your back, his fingers trailing gently down your spine.
“So it’s my fault,” you laughed.
“We’ve talked about this,” he slurred out, but a lazy smile spread on his lips. “Everything is your fault.”
“Maybe last night was my fault,” you conceded playfully, lifting your head from his chest. “Where is the date?”
“Mmn, I don’t know, I have to ask,” he mumbled, his eyes were closed but you noticed his heavy lashes shaking slightly.
“Ask?” you inquired.
“It’s a double date,” he explained, peeling one eye open.
“Oh,” you gasped. “With whom?”
“My best friends,” he said with ease, but you knew how this important was to him.
“You have a lot of best friends, baby,” you chuckled.
“Mmn, yeah, you’re right,” he said, his voice was still lazy, but he had gained more lucidity. “These are friends I met in school, while I was getting my degree.”
“Exciting,” you smiled at the way the features of his face were lax in the serenity of his sleep.
“What?” he noticed, his lips pouting slightly as he asked: “What, why are you looking at me like that?”
“I like your face, handsome,” you mumbled sweetly, running the tip of your finger down the bridge of his nose.
Jeonghan looked confused for a second. “I like your face too, beautiful,” he whispered.
The effect his words had on you made you freeze in place. You leaned to plant a small kiss on his lips, which he reciprocated with a low hum.
But then you were turning around, reaching for your phone on your bedside table to check if you had any updates from Joshua. He had replied to your last few texts, telling you excitingly that he had a date for you to visit him soon. And that he could not wait to see you again.
“That reminds me,” Jeonghan sighed, reaching for his own phone on the bedside of your side of the bed.
The videos. As soon as he unlocked his phone, the sounds from the night before flooded your ears: your whiny moans, the sounds of skin slapping together. Jeonghan wrapped one arm around your waist as you leaned your head on his shoulder and watched the videos you recorded together.
You hid your face flush on his shoulder when you saw a few seconds of one of the videos, making your insides twist in utter shame. “Oh god,” you groaned.
Jeonghan rested his hand on the back of your head. “What?” he asked, shifting his face to take a look at yours.
“It’s so…” you made a motion to the video playing on the screen, grimacing at the lewd sound of your moans.
“Hot?” Jeonghan lowered the phone after hitting Send with his thumb, sharing the videos to your boyfriend with nothing else to say in the message, no preamble whatsoever.
“Can I see?” you mumbled, extending your palm.
“Sure,” he deposited his phone in your hand without hesitation.
The videos were saved in a secret folder that he shared only with Joshua, you realized. “You were quick,” you said. He must have created the folder after recording he fucked you in a changing room.
“I don’t want them to fall on the wrong hands, princess,” he muttered, lazily drawing in a breath before yawning.
“Mmn,” you swiped your finger through the set of videos. You saw your face in so many of the frames captured. “Can I have access to this too?”
“Of course, baby,” he giggled sweetly. “I should’ve asked, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you mumbled, aimlessly fidgeting with Jeonghan’s phone. You went back to the main folder where he kept all of the photos he took.
Jeonghan did not stop you, so you dived in the rows of snapped memories. Most of the photos were of himself with his friends, photos you helped him take, photos with you… Joshua.
The tip of your finger chose a photo, almost as if it had a mind of its own. “Where is this from?” you asked.
Jeonghan had chocolate brown hair in the photo, his head leaned on Joshua’s shoulder. The smile plastered on his face was sweet, two fingers in a peace sign held to the camera. Whereas Joshua had a pale bond hair, also smiling and holding a peace sign.
“That was… I think it was one of the first times I saw one of his shows,” he said, coughing a laugh. “He was a complete mess. He wasn’t the confident sexy rockstar you know now.”
“Mmph,” you smirked. “So you think he’s sexy?”
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The restaurant was located on top of a hotel building. The tables were beautifully flanked by water gardens, lamps hanging from the open ceiling, illuminating everything with a warm orange glow.
“They’re usually late,” Jeonghan explained. But this was not said with his nonchalant and characteristic way. He anxiously looked around the tables with a pout on his face.
The air was damp, urging you to fan yourself with your hand in slow, lazy motions. Jeonghan wore a white shirt, unbuttoned all the way through, a white tank top underneath it. His long dark hair tucked behind his cute ears, he chewed on his lip.
“Are you nervous?”
His fleeting gaze fixed on your face. “A little,” he admitted, giving you a meek smile.
“Should I worry?” you raised your eyebrows.
“No, baby, not at all,” he slipped a hand under the table, finding your thigh to five it a squeeze.
“Okay,” you sighed, returning the smile he had given you.
Then you saw a familiar face, something helped by the fact that you had scrolled through Jeonghan’s photos on his phone. It was a friend of both Joshua and Jeonghan’s, but apparently so, Jeonghan had met this person long before Joshua did.
“They’re here,” he announced with a shaky mutter, standing up as the couple approached the table.
Then, with the nervousness that you had never seen in him before, he introduced you to his friends by name, sending you a glance. He probably saw the nervousness mirrored in your eyes, but somehow his confidence was restored upon mentioning that you are his girlfriend.
The man that was introduced to you as Choi Seungcheol blinked from your face to Jeonghan’s one time only. There was something exchanged there, but it was quite obvious that the man was not understanding this. The thought of this going badly set your nerves on fire.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” his girlfriend stepped in quickly, reading the situation too. 
“Baby, why don’t you go with Cheol’s girl to see the water gardens?” Jeonghan cut in, giving you a knowing look.
You paused before nodding with evident reluctance, stepping away from the table, leaving both men to have a moment alone.
“What the fuck?” Seungcheol whispered, looking around the tables to avoid dragging attention in. So he sat down.
Jeonghan returned to his seat too. “What?” he shrugged, pulling out his vape pen from his pocket.
“Why do you have the same girlfriend as Joshua?” as soon as the words left his mouth, Seungcheol grimaced.
“Because she is Joshua’s girlfriend,” Jeonghan replied with faux nonchalance, drawing a long stroke from his vape pen.
“Gimme that,” his friend gritted, yanking the vape pen from Jeonghan’s grip. “Jeonghan, I’m being serious,” he regained some control before asking: “Is she your girlfriend?”
Jeonghan exhaled slowly, trying to keep his heartbeat steady. “Yes, she really is my girlfriend,” he replied. “We’re both dating her.”
Seungcheol blinked, looking at his girlfriend in the distance walking alongside you. You both are looking quite friendly with each other, laughing, and chatting. “So, when you told me that you found someone, you meant…”
Jeonghan hated this, he hated to be open and vulnerable about his feelings. But this was Seungcheol. Jeonghan could not hide from him, and he did not want to.  “We’re all in a relationship, us three… It’s complicated,” he choked up a little, rolling his eyes to the sky. “I love her.”
For a moment, both men were lost in thought.
“Are you happy?” Seungcheol asked.
“I am,” he forced out. That was a lie; Jeonghan was not fully happy. There were somethings he still needed to figure out with you, with Joshua. But in that evening, he felt happy.
“That’s all I need to know,” Seungcheol sighed, pushing his hair back with one hand.
“Good,” Jeonghan agreed. “Can I have that back?”
Seungcheol rolled his eyes, giving the vape pen back. “You know, you’ve always been really weird, you and Joshua.”
This made Jeonghan tilt his head to one side “Weird how?”
Seungcheol shrugged. “I noticed it before but never said anything. When we get together, talking, or playing a game… something always made me think about it. It’s like you two share one mind. It’s creepy.”
“Pffft,” Jeonghan broke into a chuckle. “Alright.”
“What? You move at the same time, you finish each other’s sentences! It’s weird!” Seungcheol protested with a pout.
“Let’s order something to drink,” Jeonghan dismissed, raising one hand to motion for you to return to the table.
As soon as you sat down, you searched his face as he grabbed your hand again. You sent him a questioning look, subtly asking if everything was okay. Jeonghan laced his fingers with yours, giving you a reassuring squeeze with his hand.
And at that, the evening went on. Meeting his friends gave you another insight into his personality, and you were glad to find out that his friends were accepting of you. Soon, you felt a bit embarrassed for being so nervous before, as you realized that Seungcheol and his girlfriend were really understanding.
“Would you share a bottle of red wine with me?” you asked, reading the menu.
“I don’t know a thing about wines. But I trust you,” Jeonghan mumbled beside you. He chewed on his lip, absentmindedly mouthing the words his eyes were going over on the menu.
“You’re okay?” you asked discreetly beside him, darting a glance to the couple sitting across the table.
“Why do you ask?” he replied as quietly, shifting his gaze from the menu.
“You look worried,” you pointed, sending another swift glance. “Something happened?”
“Nah,” he discarded the idea at once. “I’m just thinking what to order, baby,” he said reassuringly, grabbing your hand to nibble at your knuckles with his lips.
“Let me order for you,” you offered, sweetening your voice involuntarily. “Something that goes with wine.”
His eyes triangulated to your own and your lips. “Alright, beautiful,” he smirked. “Impress me.”  
You gave him a badly coordinated wink. “I got you, handsome,” you said, laughing at yourself.
He shouldn’t lie to you, he reprimanded himself with a stab to his heart.
“Oh, shoot,” you muttered under your breath, getting your phone from your handbag. Jeonghan knew who it was before he even thought to glance at the screen. “I’ll be right back. Order, these,” you pointed with your finger at the menu, pressing the phone to your ear.
“O-okay,” he stuttered, watching you leave the table to take Joshua’s call.
Jeonghan hid his reaction behind the menu, but he knew Seungcheol was looking. The man was resting his chin on his hand, and Jeonghan wished that he just spoke what his eyes were trying to say. It would have been better that way, instead of suffering the weight of his dark gaze. 
But he ordered the bottle of wine and pasta that you pointed to before leaving.
The order arrived just as you were returning to your seat. Jeonghan made no question, no comment about Joshua’s call, like he usually did. But instead, he just grabbed your hand, giving it a comfortable squeeze before raising his wine glass and giving it a generous gulp.
Jeonghan made a face.
“What, you didn’t like it?” you asked, taking the glass of wine to your lips.
“It was just a big gulp,” he said with shame in his eyes.
“Small sippy sips,” you indicated, lifting a finger in a knowing expression.
Jeonghan laughed. “Sippy sips,” he repeated, giving you a nod before raising his glass at you. “You’re cute.”
You touched his glass with your own. “Try it again.”
Jeonghan took another sip cautiously, letting the rich taste of wine linger on his tongue as he savoured it. “It’s fine,” he decided, nodding approvingly.
“It’ll taste better with the food,” you pointed at his plate with your fork.
You ignored the two pairs of eyes watching your interaction with Jeonghan, smiling at him as he experimentally took a bite from his plate of pasta, chewing graciously and washing the flavours with the red wine.
“I like this,” he said contently, giving you a loving smile.
“See, I told you,” you replied in kind.
As the minutes passed, Jeonghan began to loosen up. His shoulders slacked, leaning back in his chair as he downed the first glass of wine and pouring himself another without you noticing. The warm glow of the lights above showed the light dewy layer of sweat on his forehead.
“Are you hot?” you asked innocently, setting your empty glass on the table, leaning towards him.
“You are hot,” he replied, breaking into a hearty chuckle.
“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes. “Not here.”
Choi Seungcheol lifted his head, frowning lightly at the pronounced sound of Jeonghan’s laughter, but made no comment. Jeonghan’s lucidity had started to wane, and only a keen eye like Seungcheol’s would notice.
“Let him have fun,” his girlfriend advised him, giving him a gentle nudge with her elbow.
Seungcheol nodded, visibly discarding his worry away with a light shaking of his head. “So… how did you two meet?”
Everyone on the table noticed that the question was good in nature, harmless, but indirectly putting you in a tight spot.
“Joshua introduced us,” you explained, ignoring the groan from the other two displeased parties. “He wanted me to meet his best friend.”
“How does it work?” Seungcheol asked, ignoring the more aggressive jab of his girlfriend’s elbow. “Sorry, I have to ask. I need to know.”
“It’s okay,” you assured. “I realize how this is confusing; it was for me too. But we just work it out. Make sure that it’s all fair for everyone in the relationship. It’s still all new but I’m glad we made this choice.”
Jeonghan placed a hand on your thigh in a subtle gesture of thanks. You eyed him, noticing the light glow in his face, the rosy cheeks, and lips.
“It seems like a difficult choice to make. How did you arrive at it?” now Seungcheol’s girlfriend asked, equally as curious. And you only understood it as them caring out for their friend.
“We had a threesome,” Jeonghan blurted, a bemused smile plastered on his face.
You realized too late, that as the night had worn on, Jeonghan’s demeanor had changed, from being rigid and nervous to being less coherent, and more reckless.
“You’re drunk,” Seungcheol sighed, dropping his forehead onto his palm at Jeonghan’s chuckles. He had been blunt in order to stop them from asking more questions.
“How much did you drink?” you asked him, taking in his flushed face, his glazy and unfocused eyes.
“I don’t know. A whole bottle, maybe,” he admitted with a slurry speech, a light frown on his sweaty face. “I’ll be right back.”
He grinned sheepishly as he excused himself from the table, walking disjointedly to the bathroom.
“I’ll take you home,” Seungcheol told you, motioning to a waiter to bring the bill.
“No, it’s okay,” you shook your head. “I’m okay, I can take his car.”
Seungcheol stilled, cocking one eyebrow at you. “He lets you drive his car,” he pouted sulkily, looking at his girlfriend. “He doesn’t even let me go near the wheel.”
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“Come on,” you struggled to get the tall man through the hallway of his apartment, nearly dragging him into the marbled floors until you reached the master bathroom. You giggled nervously when his shoulder bumped against the doorframe, making him groan in pain.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he mumbled some seconds after, making you think that the alcohol had set deeper in him during the ride to his home.  
“Help me, Hannie,” you giggled at his clumsiness.
“Don’t you laugh, I’m drunk!” he pouted, his eyebrows pushed inwards in a cute frown.
“Sorry,” you sighed with a smile. “You’re a big baby,” you explained, groaning as you helped him sit down on the rim of the bathtub, you swiftly turned the shower on and kicked your heels to one corner of the big bathroom. Jeonghan languidly raised his head to follow your movements, tilting his head back to look up to see your face. “Let me take these off, okay?”
He blinked slowly, taking some seconds in to process your words, biting his lower lip, he nodded.
“Don’t get any ideas,” you whispered, but could not help to also mask your smirk as you worked to get his white shirt off.
Jeonghan smiled, giggling goofily. “Caught me,” he muttered, raising one hand to clutch your wrist, looking now at your arms working to get his clothes off. “You’re very beautiful.”
“Tha-thank you Jeonghan,” you awkwardly replied. “You're beautiful, too.”
That made him chuckle again, slowly, but it was a joyless laugh. “That’s not what you said earlier,” he muttered, raising his arms as you peeled the white tank top off his torso.
“Did I said something earlier?” you asked with genuine curiosity, making a gesture with your hands, motioning him to get to his feet, which he obediently did, but with paused movements.
“Don’t play coy with me,” he tilted his head to one side, his half-lidded eyes now lowered to find your face.
“I’m not,” you blinked, but noticing it was just playful and drunken banter, you continued to undress him. “I–I’m taking your pants off, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, his head bouncing and then he smiled shyly, bristling when your cold fingers slid on his belly, unhooking the waistband of his pants to push them down. “God, I’m so drunk. This is not how I pictured this night going. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” you shook your head dismissively. “Are you okay though? Can you step in the shower?”
Jeonghan nodded, wordlessly moving to stand under the shower stream. He let his head hang forward lazily as he seemed to come back to life under the lukewarm water.
“Is the temperature right?” you asked, leaning against the wall, enjoying the sight of him standing upright, and tilt his head back, letting the water shower on his face fully.
His hands pushed his damp hair back, feet stumbling clumsily as he seemed to lose his balance for a second.
“Be careful,” you mumbled, quickly shuffling on your feet to ready yourself to lend him a hand if needed.
“I'm okay, I'm okay,” he tried to reassure you, but your brow did not relax. “I’d be better if you hop in here with me.”
“Jeonghan,” you said chastising.
“Alright, alright,” he chuckled, nodding his head as he washed his face nearly methodically. When he was done, he looked around and said: “Can you pass me that towel?”
You should have known better, from the moment he did not seem to be shutting the tap off, you should have just waited but you dumbly grabbed the folded towel and handed it out to him.
Jeonghan was swift, grabbing you by your arm and pulling you in with such a strength that you nearly stumbled over his body.
“Jeonghan!” you squealed, awkwardly steading yourself before you made him stumble too.
But he seemed to be fine, laughing like a kid playing in the rain, his hands grabbed you firmly by your waist, pulling you to him so you were now pressed to his body.
“That’s better,” he whispered, making you stop in your attempt to step out of the shower and raised your eyes to him.
“You’re crazy,” you half scolded but could not continue suppressing your smile. “I don’t have a change of clothes,” you mumbled, being swiftly swept away by the beauty of the man in front of you.
Now you remembered. You had called him handsome. You called him in the same way you did to Joshua routinely and although he noticed your clear mishap, he liked it.  
“I can lend you something,” he replied, his voice was barely a mumble. “Will you stay here? With me? Please.”
You quickly understood what he was doing, playing the same cards you did on him when you wanted him to stay the night at yours. You smiled at him knowingly and he quickly returned your smile, although his was relaxed.
“Of course,” you whispered, eyelids fluttering repeatedly when Jeonghan swayed your body in a drunken motion, the shower stream washing over you, dampening your hair and dress.
“Good,” he mouthed, pressing a lazy kiss on your mouth. Then his hands moved from your waist to remove the pin from your head, releasing your hair.
“Jeonghan,” you called when he pressed desperate kisses on your lips, trailing down to your chin and then your neck, breathing heavily as if tired. “Hannie, let’s get you to bed.”
“Mmn, yeah, okay,” he sighed, but he did not stop kissing your neck, lips pressing quick kisses. But then in a movement, he lost his balance once again, his body stumbling over, pushing your back against the wall. “Oh, shit, shit. I’m sorry,” his hands held onto the wall to regain some balance.
“Let’s go,” you insisted, blindly finding the tap with one hand to shut it off.
You managed to slip the straps of your dress off, removing the soaked material from your body and stepped off the shower, grabbing the nearest towel from the hanger and wrapped your body, handing the bathrobe to the very drunk Jeonghan who just followed you with his gaze.
“You look troubled,” he mentioned, much as if he could not stop his mouth. “Am I overstepping?”
“No,” you immediately blurted. “No, Hannie, I’m just worried about you.”
“Don’t be,” he muttered, squaring his shoulders as he adjusted the knot of his bathrobe. “I can do this, I’m fine.”
Then he turned to leave the bathroom with a slow pace in his footsteps. “Jeonghan, wait,” you chuckled at his determination.
You followed him out of the bathroom, across his walk-in closet and to his bedroom. Where you were mildly surprised by the minimalism of the space occupied by a lonely king size bed. It was neatly made, the white covers folded by the hem, pillows fluffed.
Then you realized, Jeonghan had not spent a night at his place in a while. He had been spending night after night at yours, just sleeping and leaving the next day for work.
Jeonghan stood by one of the sides of the bed, clumsily getting on it with his hands and knees crawling to slump down on the pillows with a pleased groan.
Hesitant, you approached the other side of the bed, sitting beside his body, thinking that he had already fallen asleep. But he lifted one hand, blindly searching for your body. He first found your hand resting on your lap, then he palmed your thigh, right before he moved his head to rest it there.
“I’m sorry, this wasn't in my plans for tonight,” he mumbled, his cheek was tightly pressed against your towel covered lap, making his words partially muffled.
“It’s okay, Hannie,” you sighed, bringing a hand to caress his wet hair. “I’m beginning to think that you like being babied.”
He chuckled, his body vibrating slightly on his bed. “Yeah, maybe I do,” he replied, moving his face against your body to nuzzle you slightly. “But not like this. I wanted you to have a nice dinner.”
“I had fun tonight,” you replied with a sweet tone, feeling crushed when Jeonghan pouted, turning his head to see you face to face. “I thought your friends were nice.”
“Did you really?”
“Yes, of course,” you smiled at him. “Let me take care of you, yeah?” you muttered, his dreamy eyes blinking confusedly at you. “I’ll dry your hair and get you dry clothes, okay?”
Jeonghan took a long second before nodding with his head in a stiff motion. “Okay,” he conceded.
Once you got him to wear some clothes you found in his closet, he slipped underneath the heavy white bed sheets and covers, motioning you over to his side. Jeonghan was quiet, the kind of quietness that no longer felt welcoming, nor comfortable.
You unwrapped the towel before sliding to his side under the covers, thinking that he was about to fall asleep. But he raised his gaze at you, and your stomach twisted violently when you understood that there was a reason why he had been behaving like this.
“I want to be more than your best friend,” he whispered groggily, struggling to stay awake. “I want to matter to you as much as Joshua does.”
“Jeonghan, that's not what I meant,” you breathed, chest deflating painfully upon finding what the root of his erratic mood was. “I trust you.”
Jeonghan decided that it was best to wait to hatch this conversation again once he was sober. You waited for his answer, but instead, he was surrendering himself to the fatigue that was accentuated by the alcohol.
“Hannie,” you called, but he made no motion. “Talk to me, please,” you whispered, shaking under the stress of thinking that you had hurt him with your actions.  
“It’s nothing, baby,” he whispered languidly. He should open up before he gets worse, he told himself. But Jeonghan was not a person who would confess his feelings first. His ability to think coherently was almost completely gone, and he feared to say something he might regret the next day.
“Are you sure?”
“Let’s talk tomorrow. When I’m sober,” his hand came to your cheek, whispering a sorry when you bristled upon his cold contact.
“Yeah, okay,” you mouthed, wriggling closer to him, where he received you with a kiss on the crown of your head.
But you could not fall asleep at the same time he did. You watched him breathing slowly, his heavy eyelashes tremble in deep slumber. You kept your movements at minimum, as quietly as you could, admiring his beauty without him knowing.
When you could finally fall asleep, you adjusted in his welcoming embrace, letting yourself ease into his warmth and leaving your worries for the following morning.
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Jeonghan groaned, waking up to a light, but throbbing headache. But you were buried beneath the bundles of white covers with him, peacefully asleep, your cheek squished by the hand you kept under it.
He remembered you tend to have a light-sleep when you wrapped your arms around his torso too. “Good morning, princess,” he whispered, sounding gruff.
Your arms tightened around him slightly before you moved your head back to lock eyes with him. You looked tired, but there was a calmness in your entire demeanor that Jeonghan knew that was not because of your recent sleep. It was something else.
His heart sank once again. Did he say something last night? What happened?
But you just pressed your lips against his, humming in delightfulness when he reciprocated the kiss. “I love you,” you whispered.
Shock, relief, joy. Elation. All coursed through him upon hearing you say those words. He knew just how much you had been overthinking, grappling with questions about fidelity, jealousy, hurt feelings and such. So, to hear you finally say it lifted a stone from his chest.
Jeonghan took one look to your face and smiled. “Well, look at that,” he whispered, teasing you. But he could not deny, he was over the moon pressing his smiling lips to yours repeatedly. “I love you too, princess.”
You smiled on his lips. “I'm in love with you,” you reaffirmed, almost as if it was relieving for you too to say it out loud.
Jeonghan laughed in your lips, shyly lifting a hand to cup your cheek. “I know,” he touched your forehead with his own. “I'm in love with you too. I have been for a while,” he whispered nervously.
“I know,” you giggled too. The truth was, whatever Jeonghan thought he felt, you felt it too.
“Mn, I know you do. You made me suffer a little,” he teased, his voice muffled by the closeness to which he kept his lips on yours, pressing them repeatedly.
“It wasn't on purpose, Jeonghan,” you replied with a remorseful tone, pausing the kisses to send you a saddened look.
“I'm joking, baby,” he cupped your cheek, moving his hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I wanted to wait for you to be ready.”
“Thank you,” you whispered shakily, denoting on how much this still affected you on an emotional level. “I'm sorry I kept you waiting.”
“I'd do it all over again,” he assured, his eyes reading your facial features slowly, committing to keep the glint in your eyes in his memory.
“I never wanted you to feel shunned,” you confessed, feeling emboldened by the honesty in his eyes, the softness to which he welcomed you in his arms. “I'm still thinking of how to make this relationship fair for everybody.”
“But this is fair,” his brow furrowed slightly, lips pouting slightly as he spoke. “I just wanted to feel reciprocated.”
“I know,” you nodded slightly, still looking at him in his eyes, which had something in his chest fluttering crazily. “I took my time to realize that.”
“It's okay. And it's all better now,” he whispered, leaning so his forehead touched yours once again. “I know this is hard for you.”
You nodded again, taking a deep breath. “Having two boyfriends is difficult,” you confessed.
“Yeah, I imagine. And it must be doubly difficult if both boyfriends are possessive, clingy, and obsessive, right?” he conceded with the smallest of smiles. “Maybe you should leave the thinking on how to make this fair for you to Joshua and I.”
“Mn, that would be nice,” you muttered, but you were quickly swept away by the softness of his lips, the way he hummed in delight as you kissed him repeatedly.
Jeonghan sighed deeply, nearly shuddering with the ecstatic feeling coursing through his veins. “I love you,” he whispered.
Both of his hands came to cup your face, squeezing your cheeks as he pressed more loving kisses on your lips. It made you smile the way his kisses took on a more hurried speed, as if he were trying to convey all his adoration before combusting.
“I love you, Jeonghan,” you replied when he stopped for air, deciding to keep his forehead resting against yours.
“I needed this,” he mumbled in between kisses. “Needed you.”
“I know, baby,” you admitted. “Me too.” 
Your hands searched for him while keeping your lips latched onto his. You found his torso, sneaking beneath his t-shirt. This time, Jeonghan did not protest against your touch, he let you touch his torso freely, roaming the skin of his back with your fingertips. You swallowed one of his moans, shuddering against you. 
“We never finished watching that show,” you muttered aloofly as you continued giving him open mouthed kisses, almost as if you found it impossible to part from his lips, and he very much welcomed it.
“What show?” he hummed, equally aloof, his hands were already on you. A groan tore his chest when his hands found your bare skin and he remembered that he held your naked body through the night.
“Love Island, I think is,” you giggled nervously when his hands pulled you to him just as he turned on the bed, lying flat on his back, with you on top of him.
“You think?” he asked, but none of you were interested on the topic of conversation, you and Jeonghan were all about to keep touching each other, unable to stop the warm, open kisses. “I thought we did.”
“Mmn,” you breathed out as you placed your knees on each of his sides on the bed. “They released another season,” you said right before diving on his lips for a longer, deeper kiss.
“Mn,” his hand cupped your chin, keeping you close with his pointer and thumb on you. “Wanna watch it, baby?” he asked, but his voice had dropped to a low, raspy murmur.
“Yeah,” you breathed out aloofly, then realizing how your voice sounded, you giggled.
“Right now?” he paused, his sweet brown eyes scanning the features of your face swiftly.
“Sounds like you have a better plan,” you quipped, running the tip of your finger down one of his cheeks, a soft smile spreading on your lips when you realized the lascivious need glinting in his eyes.
“I might have one,” he replied, a shyness in his face revealing itself in a smile and he finally giggle, making you do that too.
“Of course you do,” you quipped.  
“Come here,” he whispered, pulling you with his hand already on your chin for a kiss.
With that, Jeonghan came to his resolve. He was in love with you. And he was determined to make this work with you. No matter what.
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✮ author's note: hi hi hi hi there i really have nothing to say. i was thinking of explaining the dynamic between bunny and joshua, and her dynamic with jeonghan but i hope i did a good job of conveying that in this chapter so tell me what you guys think? hehe also, i want to thank you guys for showing me your love for this fic in the last chapter. i was losing purpose in writing and seeing you guys show this fic some love made me so happy. i thank you for staying and for being here on this journey with me. i love you all 🩵😭 anyways, toodles!! ✮ STAY TUNED FOR THE FIFTH CHAPTER!! ✮ JOIN MY TAGLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTERS | BUY ME A COFFEE? (●'◡'●) © RIGHTS RESERVED TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.
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junislqve · 4 months
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ᯓ seasons — ot7
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syn i used to hate it, until i found out it was your favorite thing. (1504 words)
pairs ot7 + reader | cw petnames — mlist navi
note synopsis was actually more of a prompt but err i hope you guys enjoy anyway >< also im writing this half asleep so im sorry if there are any mistakes !! everybody thank peng cause without her this wouldn’t even be here rn
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LEE HEESEUNG
“why don’t you warm me up?”
heeseung never liked winter. he hated the coldness and the gloom that came with it. ever since he was young, he’d stay cooped up in his room refusing to go out and play with the snow.
even as an adult, heeseung would be more silent during the season, chattering his teeth even though he wore about a dozen coats.
well that was until he knew you. you were the complete opposite. you loved the coldness and the festive feeling of winter. finding the beauty in the falling snowflakes.
ever since heeseung started dating you, your love for winter created a small fondness in him. he loves it when he gets to see your pretty smile and your nose red-tinted from the cold.
he loves it most when you both would take the train back after a day out and you would fall asleep on his shoulder, hands tucked on his to keep yourself warm.
PARK JONGSEONG
jay had never really been picky with anything. having being the cook back at home and even now cooking for you made him accustom to people’s likes.
one thing, however, that never had he enjoyed was caffeine. he hated the bitter aftertaste of it. the smell that always lingers.
but when you once bought him an americano back when you both were still friends, he downed the whole thing. making you laugh, he liked hearing your laugh, it was addicting. he saw how you were savoring the taste after every sip. thinking that if you liked it, it shouldn’t be that bad.
and now, every morning before you woke up, he’d add coffee-brewing to his routine. making both of you coffee before heading for work. but really, he just loved seeing you hum in delight after a sip, a small smile on your lips.
“you’re so good at this, babe” you say, complimenting his brewing skill.
“why don’t you give me a kiss for it then”
SIM JAEYUN
you loved musicals. from hamilton to phantom of the opera, you’ve always loved watching them if they played in theaters near you.
jake, however, would rather spend his time playing soccer or watching a movie at the comfort of his home. he didn’t find musicals interesting, refusing whenever his friends offered to go watch one together.
however, when you offered, he found himself sitting near front seats in a large theatre. completely invested in the story line. he took down internal notes in his head knowing you’d start talking about it the moment you both walked out the theatre, just so he could give his own perspective in case you asked.
he would listen to you talk all day if it meant having to watch musicals often. asking you to repeat things to see your smile grow. his eyes linger on you, observing the pretty smile you have and the excited glint in your eyes as you talked away.
“wait, can you explain again about what happened to her in the end?”
PARK SUNGHOON
possibly the biggest hater of mint chocolate chip ice cream, sunghoon would not get near it. if he had a choice, he’d rather choose something more simple like vanilla.
but all in all, sunghoon never really liked ice cream. he doesn’t understand the enjoyment people get whenever they’d crave it.
apparently all it took for him to finally try the flavor he most despised was for you to (barely) beg him to hang out with you. he was too flustered when you asked him what flavor he wanted and when you asked if he wanted the same order as you did, he just nodded. barely registering what you said.
he unfortunately did not realize this until he scooped up a spoonful of the ice cream and tasted the familiar, yet, unfavorable taste. however, after much thought and probably the sweet smile you were giving him, he concluded that it didn’t taste as bad as he thought it would.
after dating, sunghoon would often pick up ice cream for you two after a long week, eating it together while huddled up watching a movie in your living room.
the taste of it was always there, but he understood why you adored the flavor. it growing on him more than he’d expected, especially when you’re the one he’s eating it with.
KIM SUNOO
being alone creeps him out. he gets terrified if he was ever left home alone. that’s one of the reasons why he loved going out.
he finds it comforting being surrounded by people, chatting along with anyone and everyone, catching up with them.
before you were in his life, he felt like being alone further makes him feel unwanted. busying himself with anything if, in a case, he were to be left alone.
when you did come into his life, though, it was like you rearranged the meaning of being alone. you love the peace and quiet of being alone. the silence that seems to fill the room letting you breath for a moment.
technically, he still didn’t really like being alone. sometimes, he’d call you to his apartment to ‘be alone’ with you. none of you speaking any words to each other, just laying down and listening to each other’s breathing. so many words unsaid but the feelings able to be conveyed through gestures.
you’d taught him how to enjoy the quietness. he finds that when he’s alone he felt more calm and centered. still, as a person who loves talking, he would always prefer being with people.
but, you redefined the meaning of being alone and he loves you for it. he loves the way you look happy and at peace all the time, he loves it when you both be alone together.
YANG JUNGWON
“babe, can you get my socks pretty please?”
as a person who gets cold easily, you love bundling yourself up before sleeping. your necessities were your 2 blankets, a pillow for your side and socks.
jungwon always found it iffy to wear socks in bed. even if he were to buy new ones to wear only in his house, he still wouldn’t like the feeling of it.
that was until he was introduced to you by a mutual friend. when you two started talking, he found your many quirks adorable.
however, one that he only found out when you started dating, was that you loved wearing socks to sleep. his horror back then showed on his face when you asked him if he were okay.
overtime, you gradually convinced him. especially if it was winter and the coldness would go up by twice the usual weather. being used to your routine, he didn’t even realize he started wearing socks to bed until you pointed it out when he was sleeping over.
the realization he had was baffling, but as he accustomed to it he didn’t find it weird at all. he would start buying you both matching socks when he was out and was thinking of you.
NISHIMURA RIKI
“let’s get back to bed, love”
everyone knows riki is not a morning person. he hated waking up early more than anyone. it’s not weird to find him coming out of his room at 1 pm.
by 1pm, you’ve probably already went to a cafe, had breakfast, catches up with a friend, and had a 2-hour lecture.
when you got involved with riki, you tried your hardest to wake him up early. his friends had told you to give up many times saying they’ve tried over and over again.
but miraculously, on your 7th try, he woke up. although, grumbling, he started sitting up and asking what you were doing at his dorms.
the first time you tried you were just there to drop off some food to your big brother. but when you knocked and no one answered, you were about to leave. until one of his dorm mates opened the door to let you in.
they were all stood crowded in front of his room, shouting at him to wake up, but he never moved. still sound asleep after a whole debate session ensued in the dorms.
after your brother and his friends collectively decide to leave him alone instead of trying to wake him up, you put it upon yourself to try as well. little did you know, he’d heard all your wake up calls, just too afraid to face you, seeing his bedhead and all.
7th times the charm however, when he finally braved himself to wake up and reply to you, although his heart pounding abnormally when you smiled at him.
when you two started dating, he couldn’t not wake up before you. much more aware of his surroundings when he’s around you.
riki however is riki. if he were to wake up earlier, then you would also have to wake up later sometimes because of him. deciding to stay in for a bit longer when he asks to, surrounded by his warmth.
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© junislqve 2024. liking, commenting, and rebloging are appreciated.
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ataraxixia · 3 months
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𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
❦ 𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒. sunday had a change of wardrobe and you admire him ❧ tags. sunday x reader, spoilers for 'Farewell Penacony' quest- and all penacony quests tbh, stellaronhunter!sunday, small teasing, fluff, comfort and angst ❧ a/n. ik it's not confirmed that sunday will join the stellaron hunters (yet), but c'mon- we all wish that he will join them, also I don't like this so I'll probably redo this when I've got the energy / outfit reference: oversaltedcat on twt
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"Oh, wow- You look.. I dare to say even more handsome than before."
"Surely you must be overreacting. I don't look that much different."
Right now, you were on another spaceship- which belonged to the infamous Stellaron Hunters- in another star system, complimenting your dear lover Sunday's new set of clothes, which Kafka had ordered to be specifically tailored for him.
the overall design was basically the same as before, yet, ultimately different as well. his blouse was white, covered by a long, dark vest adorned with golden accents and detachable sleeves on both arms. the brooch he usually wore on his left chest was replaced by another one, right on his collar, and instead of white gloves, his were now black.
you glanced down quick, seeing that the thigh-strap was still present- a piece that you always loved.
"never said you looked different." you muttered as you stood before him, evening out his collar and slightly grazing your fingertips against his neck. a small gasp was all he let out before composing himself with a deep breath. "You made it sound like it."
you took a few steps back to take a good look again, thanking the tailor who made the outfit in your mind before sitting beside him on the couch again, "I didn't," you said, "it was just a compliment."
he scoffed playfully, knowing he didn't have the energy to argument with you anyway.
sunday would have never thought that he, former Head of the Oak Family in Penacony, would end up as a new member of the Stellaron Hunters. Fallen from grace and saved from eternal damnation by one of the most infamous criminals known to the vast cosmos. Ironic, he thought the first time they all met, yet, he got used to their company quite fast.
He remembers waking up- not in the chair he was chained up before- but in a comfortable, cozy bed with you by his side. The headaches had subdued over the time being with rest and medication, but the memories of him and robin at the Penacony Grand Theatre have not faltered. The more he thought about it, the more guilty he felt. The last he'd seen of his sister was when she embraced him during the fall, right before they plummeted to the ground.
"why are you looking at me like that?"
"just admiring my boyfriend. can't I indulge in your new-found beauty?"
sunday ignored your playful comment as he stood up from the couch, patting down some wrinkles and adjusting his gloves until everything was smoothed out- he still cared for his looks being neat and clean, after all.
"there are.. actually more clothes from the tailor and I am in need of a judge..." he gave you his usual charming and cunning smile which you knew all too well before you jumped up from the couch as well, grabbing his arm and hugging it close to your chest.
"say no more, i'll be your judge." you beamed, "maybe the next outfit will make you even more handsome than the last."
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eslypyiris · 5 months
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What your favorite ship from Hazbin Hotel says about you
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★ Warning: This post was made as a joke, don't take it seriously. Any resemblance to reality is pure coincidence ★
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Chaggie: You think you are always right.
Chalastor: You used to be (or still are) that theatre kid.
Huskerdust: You're dealing with a lot of problems and don't know how to fix them.
Radiodust: You are old.
Vaggie/Angel Dust: You are VERY old.
Radiohusk: You like cute animal and angst fics.
Staticmoth: You think even villains deserve love.
Staticradio: You are here for the drama.
Radiorose: You want to date your best friend.
Radioapple: You want Charlie to have two dads (Also, you wanna be Charlie's sibling)
Adamsapple: You watched Good Omens.
Lucilith: You just want Lucifer to fix his family issues and be happy (Honestly, who doesn't?)
Cherrisnake: You think snakes are cool and/or cute.
Guitarspear: You think of yourself as a bad person, but actually the only thing you really want is to be loved and understood.
Emilute: You want either a tough partner or a soft partner. There's no in between.
Polyvees: You spend a lot of time on the internet.
Valdust: Police, it's this one!
Chaggily: You want Emily to fall.
Charmily: You are soft.
Zestmilla: You are goth.
RoyalFlush: You don't let yourself be fooled by appearances.
Staticspider: Your favorite season is winter because It's the perfect excuse to wrap yourself in a blanket and watch TV.
Radiomaid: You like anime.
Staticradioapple: You, my dear friend, are horny or a helpless romantic.
Brokerdoll: You're tired and you want things to go back to the way they used to be.
Staticapple: You've been having bad luck in love because you've been looking for that "special someone," but the day you stop looking for them will be the day you'll finally be loved.
Character x reader: You wish you were born in the hazbin hotel universe.
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(I think these are all the ships. If I forgot any, let me know🌸)
★ Part 2
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 10 months
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YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW GLAD I AM THAT YOUR WRITE FOR SPTO THANK YOUUUU
UGH okay, my craziness aside; could you try “I think I’m in love with you” with Matthew Patel? It doesn’t matter who says it, I jsut think it’d be adorable (I adore that funky theatre punk so so much <3)
Thank you so much and have a wonderful day/night!!
"Do it!"
"Come on, Lord Matthew!"
"We're getting impatient.."
"Maybe we'll go in and tell them ourselves-"
"Ladies, that's enough! I will tell them myself...i-in a minute. First, I need to rehearse what I'm going to say..I can't mess this up."
The demon hipster chicks could only stare at their master with blank expressions, knowing damn well that he was stalling the inevitable:
That being his confession to you.
You two go back as far as middle school, with you being the first friend he ever made who didn't mind his weirdness or mystical powers. Plus, you shared his admiration for the theater and dramatics when he started obsessing over those, becoming his number one supporter.
Until now, Matthew never thought he'd fall for you like he did Ramona. But he feared rejection, ridicule, or worse--the relationship being extremely short-lived and him never getting to experience a "true love's kiss".
Once was painful enough.
He couldn't go through that again.
Of course, his demon hipster chicks knew all about this and the months he's spent pining after you. As much as they didn't like you "stealing" away his attention...they realized you made their master genuinely happy.
And above everything else, they wanted him to be happy.
So they were thrilled when he summoned them, seeing that they were at the doorstep to your apartment and squealing upon noticing the giftbox he had for you.
Finally, he seemed ready to move on from Ramona.
Yet....he had spent ten solid minutes pacing along the floor and trying to hype himself up, his confidence totally shot, before he eventually stopped in front of your door again.
"Okay, I got it! Erm..."Roses are red, violets are--" no, that's stupid. It's too cliche! Everybody uses that!" Shaking his head, he tried to think of something else. ""Hey, would you like to be the Romeo to my Juliet--" ohh, what am I saying?! That's not romantic!! That would mean our relationship could end in tragedy...UGH!!"
"Don't overthink it, my lord." One of the demons whispered to him. "Just tell them how you feel."
"....it can't be that simple, can it?"
"....."
"..alright. I'll take your advice. I'm going for it." With a nervous swallow, he bowed his head and raised a hand to knock at the door-
Only for it to swing open, causing him to freeze in-place and look up to see you on the other side. He quickly hid both hands behind his back, hoping you didn't see the gift. "H-Hi.."
"Oh hey, Matty. Hey, girls." You smiled, looking past him and waving to the demons. But as your gaze shifted back to his, you wondered why he seemed extremely nervous. "Are you feeling okay?"
"..yeah. Just..wanted to see how you were doing." Pink was starting to dust his cheeks. "Did you uh...know I was going to come visit?"
"Um...yeah? You texted me earlier."
"......"
"And I saw you outside my window and figured you forgot the spare key."
"Shit..did I?" Matthew checked his coat pockets, feeling more embarrassed to know he forgot such a simple thing. All because he couldn't stop thinking about you. "I guess I did forget.......how about I go get it?"
You blinked in confusion. "Huh? But you're-"
"I'll be back, I swear-?!!"
The second he tried to run away, two of the demons grabbed a hold of his arms, dragging him into your apartment, while the other two guarded the door it in case he attempted another escape. He yelled in outrage, putting up a bit of struggle before they let go.
At this point, he was seething red, prepared to yell at them for their betrayal and the humiliation it brought upon him...
But they just winked and disappeared, the last one wishing him luck.
Of course.
"I can't believe it! The nerve of those-"
"What was that all about? You're acting kinda..odd, Matthew." Raising an eyebrow, you sat down on your sofa, having no clue why the man in front of you looked so flustered.
"I....have something I need to say." He decided to sit beside you, sighing heavily. "[Y/n], I think....I..I..."
"Yes?"
"...I-I think I'm in love with you!" Finally blurting it out, he closed his eyes and handed you the box, too afraid to see your expression. "I know it's sudden but..you've always been there for me. Ever since I found my passion for theater. Ever since Ramona dumped me...you were by my side. A-And I feel like I took that for granted. I thought I only wanted revenge against those who wronged me....but no. I want something better. I want love...and I want to be yours. So please...let me prove that I can be a good boyfriend and not evil!"
Part of him wanted to curl up and die as he continued babbling on and on about his feelings, thinking about the hundreds of other ways he could have done this.
He could flawlessly play the role of a love interest in a musical or play and move the audience to tears so effortlessly. But off-stage, he felt like a bumbling lovesick idiot who isn't making any sense to his crush..
There's no way you could love him back.
Not after seeing him like this.
Yet after feeling the box being removed from his hands, Matthew bravely opened his eyes, watching as you took out the black and red roses he put inside it. The thorns have been clipped off, allowing you to twirl the stems in your fingers for a moment or two.
Then you looked at him with the brightest of smiles, laughing softly. "Of course you'd give me roses, you dork. That's so....you." You set them aside before moving closer, taking his hands into yours. "I'm trusting you to uphold that promise."
His heart was soaring.
He must definitely be dreaming right now.
"S-So...it's a yes?"
You chuckled, nodding. "Yes. And...I promise to be with you for longer than a week."
That got him choked up. He couldn't say anything else in that moment, as his only response was pulling you into a tight hug and hiding his face in your neck.
Thank god he didn't ruin this.
You just smiled and held him close, relieved that he finally decided to try loving again. When he calmed down enough to look back up into your eyes, that's when you both decided to go for the kiss--just in case he had any more doubts in his mind.
And there were sparks galore.
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xxselenite · 2 months
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٠ ࣪⭑ Leave behind all of Cupid's arrows and quivers | Jacaerys x reader
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modern!Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!reader [no use of y/n] Word count: 2.1k words Summary: You've had feelings for your best friend Jace for a while now and he has agreed to help you rehearse your lines for your theatre play, but things take an unexpected turn. Warning: none, pure fluff. If anything, reader is down bad and a little insecure a/n: The title and the play quoted is Cyrano de Bergerac by Edmond Rostand. It's one of my favourite French plays and I absolutely encourage you to read it! This is also a very self-indulgent fic considering I've acted for eight years, don't mind me haha. English isn’t my first language so I apologise in advance for any possible grammatical and/or lexical mistake! feedback is welcome and appreciated <3 (images are taken from pinterest)
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Sitting on the edge of your bed where you could catch the most sunlight, you skimmed through the script of the play until you reached a page covered in highlights and spiderly handwriting. The notes went from deep character analysis to little jokes written here and there and smiley faces drawn by your castmates.
“Alright, act three, scene six!” You declared, handing the paper to Jace who was lying on your bed by your side, his eyes half-open. He let go of the plushies he was playing with to grab your notes. “This is the second most iconic scene of the play, though I don’t have that many lines, so it should be quick,” you added.
Jace sat up and squinted to decipher the annotations on the page, a smile appearing on his face as he read the stupid puns you had found.
“You’re being super professional,” he rolled his eyes.
You chuckled. “You’re being unfair? I joined the theatre club for funsies, I did not expect to land this role.” Your face twisted into a scowl. “Most of the things I write in there are useful though. I don’t want to act like a killjoy so others don’t think I’m annoying, but I still want to prove I was the right person to cast for Roxane.”
Jace lowered the script to look at you and passed his hand in his hair to put it back into place. “You do deserve that,” he told you with a gentle tone and you tried to repress the butterflies in your stomach his praise and soft gaze had created, cursing yourself internally. You had never wanted to develop feelings for your best friend in the first place, you knew it was a bad idea, but it was too late now. Love was there, deeply rooted in the daydreams in which he kissed you during the golden hour, when your bedroom was bathed in light.
Falling in love with Jace was as easy as breathing. Of course, he was handsome, but it was not just a shallow little crush. He was nice, and sweet, and funny. He cared about you and listened to you when you needed to. He gave you good advice but knew when you just needed comfort. He had been there for you when you were at your lowest and no one else was there. He had the cutest smile ever and gave the best hugs. The list went on and on, anything he did was just making you fall a little harder.
But this love, sweet as honey, was also as sticky and sickening. You indulged in the sweet moments when he hugged you or complimented you, but it also made you feel guilty and, well, desperate. You were convinced this love could only be one-sided – Jace was perfect, everyone at your high school liked him. And you were… you. You knew each other since you were kids, there was no way he would ever see you as something more than a friend. And you were relatively okay with this, you would rather keep being this close to him without anything more than risk losing it all.
Perhaps your turmoil of emotions appeared on your face, or it was just Jace’s ability to read you like an open book, but he frowned and asked you if you were okay. You immediately regained your composure to answer in a way you hoped was natural.
“Yes, I was just thinking it must be pretty boring for you to help me rehearse my lines. We don’t have to do the whole play today. We don’t even need to do the whole thing, I can finish on my own.”
“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t have said I’d help you if it bothered me. It’s fun actually, and you’re a great actress.”
You felt your cheeks heat up and cleared your throat.
“I try my best! Although this is one of the scenes that scares me a bit.”
“Why so?”
“Okay, so this scene is with the love triangle between Christian, Cyrano and Roxane. You know the story, Christian is handsome but a bit dumb, Cyrano is ugly but quick-witted and a great speaker, and they both want Roxane. Cyrano decides to aid his buddy Christian and hides and prompts Christian who talks to Roxane under her balcony.”
“A balcony scene, like in Romeo and Juliet?”
“Precisely. But at some point, Cyrano starts talking instead of Christian and makes a beautiful declaration to Roxane because this is at night and she can’t see him. As I said, Roxane has very few lines but you see her falling for who she thinks Christian is, and I have to make this very clear to the audience.”
It’s not going to be hard to pretend that with you… You thought to yourself, looking away from the boy.
Jace nodded thoughtfully, reading the first lines of the scene again.
“Alright, where am I supposed to stand?” He asked you, looking up again.
“I guess I could get up on my bed and you go in front of me, on the floor? This way I’ll be a bit above, like with a balcony?”
The boy followed your indications and helped you find your balance on your bed. You weren’t used to this angle and seeing his eyes from above made you melt. You knew that they were beautiful, blessed with thick eyelashes you were jealous of, but it was like you were discovering them for the first time.
Once you could stand comfortably, Jace started the scene, changing his voice and attitude for Cyrano and Christian. His way of acting both characters earned a chuckle from you.
“Am I doing this wrong?” He briefly interrupted, shooting you a worried glance.
“Not at all, you’re nailing it! You should have joined the company, it would have been fun.”
“I’m not sure it would have been a good idea if I made you break character.”
“I’m much more professional on a stage than in the privacy of my bedroom.”
“If you say so…” He smirked before continuing the scene, and you thought you’d do anything to frame this moment and keep it forever. The warm afternoon light, the slight breeze, the smell of your vanilla candle, everything about it was perfect, like out of a fairytale.
Your first line, “Who calls me?” came out a bit trembling when you met Jace’s intense gaze, and you forced yourself to look away, reminding yourself that Roxane could not see her interlocutor, let alone lose herself in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, you focused and the following lines went swiftly.
But as the scene progressed and Cyrano’s declarations got gradually passionate, it became harder and harder for you to put your feelings aside. You repeated yourself that it was all acting and that Jace was, unfortunately for you, a very talented actor. Everything, from the tone of his voice to the way he looked at you, made him look like an enamoured boy, and a specific line acted as the final nail in the coffin.
“I love you! I am mad! I am suffocating with love for you! Your name rings in my heart like a bell. When I think of you, I tremble, and the bell shakes and rings out your name! Everything you do I love! I remember every action of yours that I ever witnessed! I know that last year on the twelfth of May, you changed the way you wore your hair. I am so used to taking your hair for daylight itself that, just as one stares at the sun and sees a red blot on all things, when I turn away after looking at you, I see a radiant image imprinted on everything!”
You closed your eyes as he finished speaking and clenched your fists as you whispered your answer, opening your eyes again
“Yes, this is love.”
You knew Roxane was supposed to be in a sort of emotional turmoil at this moment and that your reaction, if a bit excessive, was not out of character, counting on that fact not to attract Jace’s attention. Yet, his gaze softened and he frowned a little to show his concern, but you nodded to tell him to keep going. This was another thing you cherished about your relationship with him; he could understand you without needing any word.
With a little hesitation, he continued the scene, but from this moment on, his eyes did not leave your frame on the edge of the bed, towering over him but looking so fragile. He walked a little closer to the edge of the bed, as if he was expecting you to faint and wanted to catch you.
You reached the climax of the scene a few minutes later. You knew it was coming from the beginning, the moment where Christian, high on enthusiasm to see Roxane fall in love, asks for a kiss. The kiss does not happen in the scene, Cyrano backtracks, but the demand creates an immediate tension in the scene. Yes, you knew it was coming. Nevertheless, when you Jace said “a kiss,” it felt like a punch in your guts. Your eyes flickered down to his lips, God knew what you would have given to kiss them just once, for a second.
Your brain was moving slowly, like it was underwater, and you couldn’t find your next line. No matter how hard you tried to remember it, your mind was blank, all you could do was stare at him in awe. When your eyes left his lips after what seemed to be an eternity, he was looking at you, his face a few centimetres away from yours. You could see every detail on his skin and smell the faint fragrance of his cologne.
You blinked, and when you opened your eyes again, his lips were on yours. They were soft, and warm, and a little hesitant. You returned the kiss without even realising it, lips parting and hands flat against his chest while his own hands found your hips and held you still to prevent you from falling from your bed.
Jace broke the kiss, too quickly in your opinion, but it had been enough to tie the wires in your brain even tighter and the only thing that you managed to blurt out was a pathetic: “This isn’t in the script.”
Your best friend chuckled, still holding you. His touch was gentle but it was enough to send shivers down your spine.
“I really hope the look on your face is surprise and not pure horror.” He said, and you sensed the nervousness behind his light-hearted tone. You hadn’t even realised your eyes were open wide. You shook your head and carefully grabbed Jace’s hands, keeping them between your two bodies.
“Why did you kiss me, Jace?” You made sure that your voice was soft and your question genuine, so that he couldn’t interpret it as a blame.
The boy seemed to be taken aback for a split second and looked for reassurance in your eyes, which he seemed to find as he licked his lips and answered.
“Cyrano’s words. They’re mine. I mean, they’re not exactly mine, they’re way more eloquent than I can be. But what they say matches what I feel. This whole scene, it’s… It’s acting, but it’s not. I mean it.” He started fidgeting with your fingers. “I’ve been feeling like this for a little while now I think, but I’ve never really admitted it to myself.”
“What changed then?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe the fact you joined the theatre club? You’re so radiant when you talk about it, let alone when you’re on stage. You- you shine like a star in the night, and I realised I loved you more than a friend, I was just too scared to do anything, because losing you would be worse.”
You let a nervous laugh escape your lips and Jace seemed startled by the crystalline sound.
“Oh Jace,” you sighed, “we are so ridiculous. I’ve been feeling the very same thing for months, and I was standing there letting the fear devour me.”
“Seriously?” The word slipped out of Jace’s mouth in a whisper which you barely caught and you nodded in the same discreet, almost secretive way.
You kept quiet for a little while, gazing into each other’s eyes. Outside, the birds were chirping in the garden. The rumble of the cars was echoing from the more active parts of the cities. The breeze was causing the curtains to flow at a low rhythm. And you two felt like the only people in the world.
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bvtbxtch · 1 year
Text
Angry Heart | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader (Part 1: Prom Night)
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Series Summary: Your best friend Chrissy Cunningham always got everything she ever wanted, even you new friend and crush Eddie Munson. When Chrissy does the unthinkable, Eddie is left to pick up the pieces alone... or is he?
Chapter Summary: You have finally started to find your own groove after accepting that Eddie and Chrissy were an item, and ultimately more into each other than you. But why do you still feel such a strong connection to Eddie? Why are you secretly wishing for their downfall? Everything comes to a head during your final high school play and the prom where a new friend makes Eddie rethink everything.
Pairings: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie Munson x Reader (eventually), reader and Chrissy are friends but have a fallout. Minimal usage of Y/N
Series warnings: MDNI 18 +, Smut, fluff and angst (everything all rolled into one beautiful shit show), mentions of drugs and alcohol being consumed, overall adult language and theme. By clicking the read more, you agree that you are over 18! Ageless and minor blogs who interact will be blocked.
Word Count: 9k (I got excited)
A/N: Holy hell! I never thought that this series would get so much love just from the prologue. I thought this was going to take me the next week or so to write, but I whipped this puppy out in 2 days. Thank you thank you thank you for all of the support. Again, your feedback, reblogs and replies are so appreciated!
Prologue
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
April 1986
Falling in love with Eddie Munson was easy. He made it so incredibly simple. The spring production rehearsals were in full swing and you got the lead role. It meant long hours in the theatre with your favorite metalhead, sharing snacks, laughing at inside jokes and telling deep dark secrets. You had started to spend equal amounts of time at the Hellfire table, making quick friends with Jeff and Gareth, you grew to love and protect the freshmen as your own as well. Even though you had no interest in playing DnD with them, Eddie always invited you to sit in on their campaigns. Chrissy and the other jocks started to distance themselves from you on the days you would decide to sit with them, but it started to bother you less as you made more meaningful connections with people who liked you for you. The last 5 months caught you off guard. Things seemed like they were normal, better than normal even; until you went home alone after school and remembered that Eddie had someone else keeping his bed warm. Chrissy was there. Your best friend stealing your other best friend away from you and nobody knew.
Things between you and Chrissy were tense only on one end. The blonde always greeted you in the hallway and passed you notes in class, blissfully unaware of the heartache her new romance had caused you. But when you were in a group, she seemed to unconsciously take value to others in the group. Eddie and Chrissy had started their relationship in private, and you were their sworn protector. Even when you didn’t necessarily want them, you got all the gory details of how Chrissy let Eddie feel her up for the first time, or how Eddie is a lot more well endowed than many had previously thought. It killed you on the inside, but throwing yourself into the spring show gave you a healthy distraction. Cheer kept you just close enough to Chrissy to keep up the feeling that things were not falling apart between the two of you, but you could focus on what you needed to do on the field. It felt good to put effort into new friends and reignite passions, even though the love the two of your best friends shared would always take up a small residence in the back of your mind. 
It was three weeks until prom. You were seriously considering not going, but you knew you would regret not going, so you decided that you would make an appearance, likely not a sober one, but you would show up. You waltzed past the posters in the cafeteria, and the ballot box being guarded by the student council, stationed around it like soldiers. You knew who would be winning each crown, there wasn’t even a point in voting for anyone else. You would be there to cheer Chrissy on for the third year in a row of winnings. Like clockwork, she would accept her crown, dance with whatever meathead got crowned king, and then help her fix her mascara that ran from her happy and “surprised” tears. You rolled your eyes thinking about it; but you were snapped out of your trance when you heard the blonde call your name. You reluctantly wave to her and the other ponytails looking expectantly at you and you start to cross the cafeteria. You are interrupted by a mop of light brown hair and a gleaming smile.
“Hey! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Gareth greets. You instantly relax as your new friend puts his arm over your shoulder and leads you to the Hellfire table. You look over Gareth’s shoulder to see the cheer table staring daggers at you. Chrissy looks disappointed, and the rest of the table looks mildly disgusted. Chrissy understood why you would hang out with the freaks but she still didn’t necessarily approve. Your image was important to her as you continued to be associated with her. You look at Chrissy apologetically, but happily turn and walk with Gareth. 
“It’s good to see you, Gareth” you smile up at him. 
“How are rehearsals going? You getting excited for the big show?” He remembered, and he seemed genuinely interested. 
“Yeah I guess so! I’m sort of ready for it to be over so we can push through exams and get out of here.”
You slide out your usual chair at the hellfire table, across from Gareth and beside Eddie at the head of the table. 
“I thought you were eating with Chrissy today?” Eddie questions. 
“Good to see you too, Ed…” you mumble. 
“No, it’s just… I wanted you to see if anyone had asked her to prom yet” Eddie leaned over and whispered to you. 
Gareth rolled his eyes. Eddie had recently let him in on his secret relationship with Chrissy, since he was missing or late to more and more hellfire meetings and had been mentally absent during their band practices. He needed someone else within the group to be able to cover for him when you couldn’t, and Eddie trusted Gareth with his life.
“Why the hell wouldn’t she be going with you?” you snorted. You knew that Eddie and Chrissy weren’t necessarily public, but you would never think that she would brush him off like that. 
“I don’t know… because I’m well… me” Eddie looked to the ground. You grabbed his hand and he instantly turned red. Your skin burned when you touched him. It felt like it had been so long since you had any physical contact which made you feel empty. Eddie was always one to give you a hug, or hold your hand or pick you up and carry you down to the theatre when you were running late. He was a tactile person and it took you until now to realize how much you really missed the way things were.
“Eddie Munson you listen to me, anyone would be lucky to go to prom with you” You turned pink as you reassured him. Gareth noticed and tried to hide his smirk underneath his hands. You kicked him under the table. You wish you were the lucky person that he would take, but you know that he would soon rather die than be seen with anyone else but Chrissy.
“ I don’t know” Eddie questions as he shyly pulls his hand away from yours. Both of you felt cold after the loss of contact. “I just really like her and I really want her to be with me, you know, not in secret… sometimes I think she’s ashamed of me.”
“Well, that’s her problem then, isn’t it?” Gareth snaps. He was so tired of watching Eddie stomp all over your heart when he knew that Chrissy was going to do the same to him eventually.
Both yours and Eddie's heads snapped to look at him. He was never one to question anything from Eddie, but he looked bothered. He stood up and left the table without a word. 
“What’s up with him?” You chide. Eddie shrugs and picks at his pretzels. 
“Hey, I was wondering if you could give Chrissy a note for me? I think I’m gonna ask her to go to prom with me today.”
“Ed, shouldn’t you just go up and talk to her? She’s your girlfriend for fucks sake.” You were getting sick of being put in the middle. Neither of them understood how much their romance crushed you. 
“Whatever, I thought you would wanna help me, seeing as you’re my best friend and all, but I’ll just humiliate myself then”. He shoved his chair backwards and with a huff, he stormed out of the cafeteria. Eddie was always one for theatrics. Usually it was entertaining, but this felt more like a toddler’s temper tantrum. You rolled your eyes and flipped him off as he left.
Eddie’s departure caught the eye of Chrissy. She looked at you quizzically and you gestured for her to follow him and rolled your eyes. She discreetly got up and trotted out the exit Eddie had just used. The back exit opened up to the field outside. You could see Eddie’s figure heading out to the bleachers - the place where you often went to to get out of O'Donnell's class, or smoke after a particularly stressful rehearsal. But it wasn’t sacred to you two anymore. It was their spot now. You could see Chrissy’s figure following behind him. You took the rest of Eddie’s pretzels and ate them with a huff.
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The final night of the play was here. Your last hurrah as the lead and the last show you may ever be a part of. Hawkins for sure does not have a thriving theatre community, so who knows what other opportunities you might have. You didn’t want this to be the last time though, it made your heart hurt and you wished this night would never end.  You had spent your time before curtain warming up with Eddie. He could tell you were nervous. 
“Sweetheart, I am telling you, you have nothing - and I mean nothing to worry about. You have been crushing this whole show run. All you have to do is go on stage and do your thing! And if anything bad happens, I tell the booth to blackout and I cut your mic!” he giggles. You didn’t find it as funny. You paced back and forth across the small stage, arms shaking and your breath hitching. None of your friends had been there to see your performance yet. You weren’t expecting many people, at least Chrissy, but she hadn’t said a word about your show or if she was coming. You pacing was driving Eddie wild. He hated seeing you so bothered.
“Y/N just relax” Eddie grabbed you by your shoulders and your whole body went stiff. Your breath caught in your chest and your heart sank to the floor. You could feel his breath on your face; you hadn’t been this close in a long time. Without being able to help yourself, your eyes flicker from his to his lips. All you would have to do is lean up and your mouth could be on his. His gaze lowered to your lips as well. You wanted to give in so badly, you wanted to kiss him, to feel like his again - but you couldn’t do that to your friend. You broke his contact and took a step back. Eddie cleared his throat and looked at you expectantly. 
“Did Chris say when she was coming to the show?” You ask, clearing your throat in an attempt to clear the thick, tense air. Eddie’s gaze went from soft and longing to hardened. Eddie looked to the floor and shifted his weight. 
“I-uh I don’t know… I haven’t talked to her in the past couple of days.” Your eyes doubled in size.
“What do you mean? What happened that day after lunch?” 
“I don’t want to talk about it” Eddie turned to stalk back behind the wings of the stage. You pulled his arm back and turned him towards you.
“Eddie, please. What happened?”
“She said she didn’t want to go to prom with me, okay? Are you happy now? Is that what you fucking wanted to hear?” His voice boomed through your skull. His eyes were glassed over, dangerously close to spilling tears, like yours have already started to do. He had never talked to you like that.
“Wha-what do you mean?”
“Oh don’t be so naive. You’re fucking happy that Chrissy doesn’t want to be seen with me. This is what you wanted the whole time, right?
“What the fuck are you talking about?” you whisper to him, tears free flowing. “Why the fuck are you coming at me now when you just wanted to kiss me? I know you felt that too and you can’t deny that to me” You yell at him with a shove. You were shaking. You wanted to pour your heart out to him now, tell him how angry you were and admit that maybe you were happy that things weren’t picture perfect for them. But it wasn’t worth it now. 
“You know what, Eddie? You both deserve each other. Have a great show” you turn away from him, panting. You felt like you were going to fall to the ground because your legs felt like jello. Eddie grabbed you by the shoulders. You both looked into each other's eyes, glassy with emotion. For the first time in what seems like forever, you could not tell what Eddie was thinking. His eyes clouded with conflict, with anger, but with something else you couldn’t quite decipher. His lips quivered and his cheeks were flushed. 
You felt like your head was going to explode. What was going on? You felt like all of your weight, your body and soul were all dependent on Eddie holding you up. In one swift movement he pulled you in and his lips were on yours. Your whole body tensed, your eyes remained on his face. It was so wrong. This wasn’t supposed to happen like this. But as much as your mind was screaming at you, his lips felt perfect on yours, like they were made to be there. Your heart was on fire and you felt like you might crumble into tiny pieces. But this is not how it was supposed to be.
You pull away and look at him. His eyes were beautiful. The glow of his chocolate irises were back. He looked at you like you were his world, but he looked guilty. 
You slapped him across the cheek. You turned around and you paced back to the dressing room, leaving Eddie there with a burning cheek and a hole in his own heart. He walked backstage.
“Fuck!” He yelled and punched the cinderblock wall, making his knuckles bleed. He trudged back up to the booth to prepare for the show, the feel of your lips on his lingered on his  like a tattoo.
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You took your final bows with heavy applause. Your heart felt warm and finally you felt like things were falling into place for you. The stage is where you belonged and where you felt the most like yourself. You had almost forgotten that you were standing in the very spot where Eddie Munson kissed you for the first time three hours prior. He shouldn’t have done that. You shook the memory out of your head. He didn’t matter right now, this was your time. You gestured up to the booth for their applause and there your gaze met Eddie’s. He was beaming, both dimples showing from the sides of his cheeks. For a moment, you saw your proud best friend. You saw the boy you made friends with in seventh grade art class and you saw the boy that came and knocked on your door to see if you wanted to go to the arcade with him. You beamed back at him, in hopes that he felt those same feelings as well. You eyes cast down to the audience and you searched for the other face you were so wishing to see. Chrissy was nowhere to be found. Instead, you saw another mop of shorter dusty brown curls and four other hellfire shirts to accompany him. Gareth whooped when you took your final bow. Your heart soared. You finally found your moment. 
The Hellfire club waited for you in the hallway outside of the auditorium. Jeff and Gareth each wielding bouquets of flowers to give you. The freshmen were buzzing about the performance. You ran to them and embraced them in a big group hug. You thought your face was going to break from how wide you were smiling. 
“Holy crap, Y/N! You were amazing!” Mike gushed.
“That actually made me regret not going to more plays here” Gareth laughed and handed you the bouquet in his hands.
“Thanks guys. I am so happy you’re here” You were so relieved to be telling the truth from the bottom of your heart. It seemed like forever since you could be totally honest with yourself.
“Dude, we wouldn’t have missed it” Jeff offered his bouquet to him and you gave both older boys kisses on the cheek. 
“Did I ever tell you guys that you’re the best?” You exclaimed, while you brought them in for another group hug. 
“I’m just gonna run and grab my things from the dressing room and then we should go grab something to eat! I am starved!” You turned and trotted towards the stage door. 
“Hey, Y/N wait!” Gareth ran up to your side
“What’s up?” Gareth shifted his weight and looked to the floor. 
“I want you to know that we - I think you’re great.”
“Thanks, Gareth” you wrapped your hand around his wrist and gave it a squeeze.
“You deserve better than you’re getting, sweetheart.” Your smile faltered.
“What do you-”
“You know what I mean, Y/N…” Gareth implored. You nod. 
“I know that I am not your first choice, but I was wondering if you wanted to go to prom together? I promise I am not in like love with you or anything, and I want to go with you as a friend, but I don’t want to see you go alone, or worse go with friends you don’t like or don’t show up at all because I think you could win pro-” You cut Gareth off by giving him a tight hug and when you pull away you give him a kiss to his cheek. Your eyes wet with gratitude.
“Gareth, I would love to go to prom with you” Gareth lets a long breath out and laughs.
“Okay, great. That’s really great… cool” You squeezed his shoulder and turned towards the door again.
“I’m gonna go grab my stuff and then we can talk more about plans over some food” You offered. 
“Okay cool! Awesome! And Y/N? We’re all really proud of you. You shone out there.”
Gareth retreats back to the group to wait for you. Eddie had now joined the group, his face looked hardened. Why did you just give Gareth a kiss on the cheek? He knew, like him, that you were a tactile person. You showed your appreciation in physical ways, but he had never seen you be so close to Gareth. It bothered him more that it should. “What was that about?” Eddie interrogated.
“Nothing man, I was just congratulating her.”
“Did she say anything about me?” Eddie pressed.
“...No? Why would she?” The rest of the group snickered at Gareth’s remarks. Eddie turned away. Not only was his mind racing, desperate to talk to you, but now he was embarrassed in front of his own group of friends. He couldn’t take being in the same room with you right now. He needed time to think.
“Alright, I’m going then.” Eddie stalked off to the double doors.
“Wait! You aren’t going to come out to celebratory dinner with us?” Dustin whined. 
“Not this time. I got shit to take care of” Eddie retorted. 
“Probably another hot secret date” Jeff poked at Gareth and they both laughed. 
Eddie grumbled as he turned and opened the door to the parking lot, a cigarette already out of his pocket and in his mouth. He needed to find Chrissy.
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It was 11:36pm. Chrissy had gotten home just an hour ago from an outing with Tiffany and Sarah. Her stomach was in knots, she was afraid her reputation was slipping. They had both made a comment about you sitting with the Hellfire club recently and she instantly went into defensive mode. She couldn’t handle them talking shit about you, her best friend and her boyfriend. The girls grilled Chrissy about why she had been being so nice towards the Hellfire seniors and started to put two and two together.
“Oh my god, did that Freak Munson put a spell on you or something when you went for that deal?” Sarah sneered.
“Holy shit! That would make sense as to why Y/N is spending so much time with him too. I heard she sucked his soul out of his-”
“Okay enough!” Chrissy boomed. She could feel her chest caving in. She hated hearing people talk about you that way, but she hated the idea of you and Eddie being together even more.
“He was really sweet and friendly to me when I went over to his trailer. He seems like a really nice guy. And Y/N is one of us, she wouldn’t do that with him.” Tiffany and Sarah sat with their mouths ajar, unwilling to believe that Chrissy would ever talk back to them like that. 
“Oookay, Chris. Didn’t know you were like, in love with him” Tiffany teased. 
“Ugh, as if. Let’s just drop it…” Chrissy mumbled.
She couldn’t sacrifice her already jeopardized reputation by being seen in the auditorium, where both you and Eddie would be. She wouldn’t be able to help herself around him. Her feelings towards the metalhead, although still conflicted, were growing stronger. She didn’t know how much longer she could hold out in keeping this a secret if she was going to actively be seen in public with him. 
She had plopped onto her perfectly made bed with a new Danielle Steele novel when she heard a knock at her window. She looked up and her face contorted into the most beautiful look of surprise to see her favorite curly haired metalhead at the window. He looked like he lost his lucky DnD dice. She opened the window quickly and stood out of the way to let him stumble into her room.
“Eddie? What’s wrong, darling?”
“Are your parents home?” he grabbed her waist and began to back her into her wall.
“Ummm no, they’re out” Chrissy breathed. Eddie pressed his lips to her neck, moved his right hand up her torso as his left hand flicked the lock on her door.
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You had tried to call Chrissy a few times after you had returned from the diner with the hellfire club. You were hurt and wanted to know where she had been. But most importantly, you wanted to tell her what happened between you and Eddie. Although you also felt your friendship slipping, this was something you couldn’t keep from her. You had showered your show hair and makeup off and had gotten yourself into comfortable pjs. The flowers the boys had got you sat neatly in a vase on your nightstand; they made you smile every time you looked at them. You had just closed your eyes and surrendered to sleep when your phone rang. You answered and you heard the cheery voice that you had been waiting for.
“Hey babe! How was the show?” So she did remember, but just decided not to show up.
“It was great Chris, but it would have been a lot better if you were actually there.” You tried not to sound angry, because in the long run, you really wanted her there. She hurt you more than made you mad. 
“Yeah, I’m really sorry, I had this thing that I couldn’t get out of with Tiffany and Sarah. I’m sorry, you know I’ll be at the next one” She offered.
“What if that was the last one, Chris? You know what, I would rather not do this over the phone… Can I come over?”
“Oh.” Her voice dropped. “Yeah, Okay.”
“I’ll be there in 10.”
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You knock on Chrissy’s door. Unlike her previous visitor, you knew you were always welcome at her house. She was quick to open the door. She looked perplexed, worried even. It wasn’t often that you saw her being anything but her shiny happy self. You knew something was very wrong. She knew too.
“Hi.” You offer
“Hi… come in” she opens the door wider to let you into her foyer. She holds her cardigan tight to her chest. You follow her up her stairs and into her bedroom. It felt so familiar but there was a tension that made this feel foreign. You sat yourself on the end of her bed while she perched herself on her vanity stool. Even though you were facing each other, you found it hard to make eye contact with each other.
“I need to tell you someth-”
“I feel like we need to-”
You both started talking at the same time and with an awkward chuckle, you stopped talking so she could speak.
“Eddie came over after the play” Chrissy whispered. You clenched your jaw. 
“Oh, I couldn’t tell from the numerous hickies on your neck, Chris.” you poked. She wrapped her cardigan around her small frame tighter and kept her stoic expression. 
“Eddie told me that you kissed him at the theatre” she said, her tone hard. You shook your head in disbelief.
“Is that what he really told you?” You pressed. She nodded her head, not being able to make eye contact with you. 
“Huh. So what if I told you that he kissed me? That we had a fight over the fact that you won’t be seen in public with him? That he accused me of being happy that my two best friends in the whole fucking world were destroying each other, all while they pretend that I don’t exist anymore and just keep shitting on each others’ feelings, leaving me in the middle of this whole mess?” you started to raise your voice. You couldn’t believe that Eddie would ever lie about what happened, and you really couldn’t believe that Chrissy would believe him. 
“That sounds like a real easy way to shift the blame, Y/N. You kissed my boyfriend” Chrissy snaps, tears threatening to spill.
“Bullshit, Chrissy! He kissed me! And I still don’t fucking know why! He kissed me, I pulled away, I slapped him in his stupid fucking face and I left.” You screamed. Your tears flowing freely. This had been the single most confusing night of your life. You thought that the two people you loved the most couldn’t betray you more than they already had.
“Well, that’s not the story that Eddie told me” She whispered.
“Yeah… it seems like Eddie told you that story all over your body, Chrissy” she gasped and lunged for her bedroom door. Your face twisted in disgust. He used you because he was mad at Chrissy, and the he used her to lessen the blow.
“Get out.” She sobbed. 
“You tell me to leave right now, you are telling me that you believe Eddie’s word over mine - fuck, not even Eddie’s, a stupid fucking boy over my word. Me. Your best friend. The one who has been there for you since forever.” The air was thick. Both of your eyes were red and chests heaving. 
“I do. I believe him.” Chrissy gasped.
You cackled as you stood up. You huffed out of her room and bound down her stairs. You opened and slammed her front door shut and climbed into your car. You sped out of her driveway and rounded the corner. When you got out of eyeshot from her house, you turned off your car, slammed your hands on your steering wheel and screamed at the top of your lungs. 
You wanted to go see Eddie. You wanted him to tell you that it would all be okay. You wanted him to wipe your tears away and you wanted him to hold you with the same passion he did at the theatre. You wanted him to kiss you and tell you that you were right and she was wrong; but you also knew that she would be calling him right now and she would be getting the comfort you so desperately needed. You turned your ignition and started back to your house. 
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The next weeks of school seemed to bleed together. You felt numb. You had no play, no Chrissy and no Eddie. Every other day, Gareth would meet you in the library to eat lunch with you. You were so thankful for his friendship. You didn’t have the heart to tell him what happened with Eddie and Chrissy; knowing that it would cause yet another rift within their tight group. He also thought that it was best to keep the fact that the two of you were going to prom together between the two of you to prevent the same thing; But, he knew that Chrissy had pushed you to the side. You had secretly thought that she was waiting for a reason to ditch you as a friend, seeing as you weren’t what Chrissy envisioned as a perfect person to put on her social resume. You knew that the cheer girls were starting to treat her differently because you were friends and you didn’t subscribe to the jock way of life. Gareth was there to listen through it all, and although your heart was broken, it was comforting to know that you still had a friend that was willing to help you put the pieces back together. You were grateful that one of the biggest nights of the year was going to be spent with him. 
May 1986 
Your preparations had begun as prom week came. You took Gareth shopping for a new shirt and tie.
“Are you sure I don’t need like, a tux or something?” he questioned.
“Do either of us look like we are fancy or rich enough to be tux people?” you joked.
“Fair enough.”
“You are going to look awesome in whatever we find!” you praised. Gareth beamed back at you.
You walked through starcourt mall arm in arm. The sting from the past couple of weeks had become a dull ache and you started to appreciate the little things again. You had been bold enough to take your seat at the hellfire table last Friday and although Eddie looked at you quizzically, he didn’t say anything. It seemed like there was a silent agreement between the two of you, that you were both going to put what happened at the show behind you. As much as you both wanted to though, neither of you could forget. You both remembered each time you looked into each other’s eyes. Your conversations had begun to pick up again, they were surface level and short, but you were happy for the small sense of normalcy. You wondered if Chrissy did tell Eddie about the conversation the two of you had. But in your growth you decided that you didn’t need to know that, and worrying over it was just going to cause you more stress than it was worth. 
As you and Gareth passed through the food court, a pair of chocolatey brown eyes fixed on your figure. Eddie had posted up at the mall with Steve Harrington, the former King of Hawkins High and adult friend to many of the Hellfire freshmen. 
“Dude, you gotta relax.” Steve warned. Eddie’s jaw had instantly tightened and his body had stiffened when he had seen you and Gareth walking through the mall. Why the hell were you out with him?
“Why is she here with him? Why is she holding him like that?” Eddie sneered.
“Is… Is Eddie Munson Jealous? I thought you were boning the hottest girl in school?” 
“Yeah boning. But we’re also dating and she doesn’t want anyone to know that”
“Shit, dude” Steve gulped.
“Yeah… Shit.” Eddie wished he had natural charm like Steve. Maybe it would make it easier for Chrissy to like him. He hated that he was questioning his whole person because of a stupid girl. But he really thought that he liked her. But how could she like him if she didn’t even want to be seen in public with him. Eddie ran his fingers through his hair, frustrated, overwhelmed and wanting to burn starcourt mall down if it meant that you wouldn’t be here with Gareth anymore.
You found Gareth a satin button up shirt and he stole a lavender bowtie that matched the color of your dress. You were finally laughing and joking faintly like you used to. It made Gareth’s heart soar. He cared greatly for you, but knew that your heart belonged to Eddie. It never stopped belonging to him, even if you told him repeatedly that you didn’t have feelings for the Hellfire leader. Even though he was hoping you weren’t going home with him on prom night, Gareth was more than happy to be taking you.
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Tonight was the night. Eddie was sure that everyone in his graduating class was stirring with anticipation and excitement for what was going to be the best night of their lives. Eddie wasn’t as optimistic. He had put on his best black jeans (the ones with no holes in them) and was sitting on his bed, lazily strumming his guitar with a lit joint hanging out of his mouth while he waited for his wet curls to come to life. He didn’t want to go anymore. Chrissy had ensured the fact that she was going with Jason Carver meant nothing but keeping up appearances and that she would save a dance with him once she was crowned prom queen. Eddie felt like a charity case and had been feeling so increasingly often lately, Chrissy only daring to talk to him through notes left in his locker, or going to their hiding spot during their class breaks. Eddie was sure that he wanted to be in love with her. But when he kissed Chrissy, it didn’t feel like it did when he kissed you. He was so confused. Your relationship was finally amicable again, and he had the girl that he had been chasing after for years. But he was scared to see you tonight because he was worried he was going to mess everything up. He could be in love with Chrissy, but it seemed like Chrissy might not love him back. But maybe you did. Eddie let out a loud groan and flopped back onto his bed. He finished his joint and put on his burgundy dress shirt and put his arms through his vest. He put on his freshly polished rings and toed on his reeboks. He reluctantly started his van and began his drive to Hawkins High.
Gareth picked you up at 7 o’clock sharp. You answered the door with a bright smile and his face lit up the dusk behind him.
“Wow, girl. You look amazing!” Gareth looked you up and down. Your lavender sleeves landed just off of your shoulders, highlighting the pearls that rested on your collar bone. Your tiered skirt flowed and shimmered beautifully with the light.
“Says you! I told you you didn’t need to get a tux!” you slap him on the shoulder. To your surprise Gareth had showed up in a full tuxedo, sporting the shirt and tie the two of you had picked out.
“Yeah I know but my mom was so excited that I was going that she went out and bought me one anyway” You both laughed as you turned to take your polaroid camera off of the entryway table. 
“Let's take a picture to commemorate the occasion” you tease. The two of you place your cheeks together and smile for the camera. The light flashes and you both giggle. You were so excited to be spending an evening with your friend. 
“Jeff gonna meet us there?”
“One step ahead of you!” You heard from Gareth’s truck. Jeff stuck his head out of the back and gave you a huge smile and a wave. You laughed as you closed the door behind the two of you. Tonight was going to be a good night.
Chrissy had stationed herself at Tiffany’s directly after school to prepare for what was going to be the best night of her life. Sarah had snuck a bottle of champagne from her mother’s wine cellar and by 6pm, Chrissy could feel her own pulse in her head. She felt beautiful, she looked beautiful, but even her baby pink slip dress could not hide the insecurity on her face. The stakes were high and all she wanted was everything to go the way she wanted. Her glossed lips sank another flute of champagne while they waited for Jason and his posse to show up in the limo.
When you arrived, the Hawkins gym was decorated with tinsel and adorned with snack and drink tables on the opposite side of the stage. Your stomach fluttered at the excitement of being at your senior prom with some of the people you loved the most. You grab some punch and you Gareth and Jeff sit. Your head was on a swivel looking for a beautiful blonde, or a mop of brown curls, but to no avail. You took a big sigh and shook out your hands. Tonight was going to be a good night, you repeated to yourself. No one was going to ruin this for you. 
“Wanna dance?” Gareth held his hand out to you. You gladly grabbed it and let him sweep you out to the dancefloor. He spun you and you laughed. Any thoughts of anyone else dissipated as you laughed and danced with your best friend.
Chrissy entered the gym in awe, teetering on her pumps, and brain fuzzy from the champagne. It was her night for a win and she knew that. She walked arm in arm with Jason, a smile plastered wide and eyes full of expectation. Her eyes faltered when she saw you smiling and laughing with your date, she didn’t remember his name. She longed to give you a hug and apologize. She wanted to dance and laugh with you, but she knew that now wasn’t the time. She needed to focus. Tonight was her night. 
Eddie trudged into the gym, head already aching from the synth pop being played out of the large speakers. He grabbed a small flask out of his back pocket and took a swig. He sauntered over to the punch bowl and grabbed a cup, eyes scanning for two women. He found neither. Who he did find was his hellfire clubmates sitting at a table on the outskirts of the gym. Eddie tramps to them.
“Who let the freshmen in here?”
“Your guess is as good as mine” Jeff offers as he shakes Eddie’s hand “Looking good Ed. I didn’t know you even knew what a dress shirt was”
“Ha ha… I feel like shit. How long do we have to be here for?” Eddie whines
“Dude no one is making you stay! So have some fun with your friends would you?” Dustin scolds. Eddie scowls as he sinks into a chair at the round table. He immediately senses your absence. He looks around inquisitively.
“Where’s Y/N?” He asks. Jeff nods towards you on the dancefloor and Eddie’s heart stops. You looked absolutely radiant. He felt his hands get clammy and his chest got tight. You looked so happy and carefree. He missed seeing you like this, his girl the way he remembers you the best. He smiles to himself when he hears you laugh.
“Gareth, stop spinning me, I'm gonna throw up!” 
His smile faded. Gareth? You were here with Gareth? He saw the mop head holding your hands and laughing with you. Suddenly, Eddie felt sick to his stomach. He could feel his pulse in his ears and he saw red. Jeff saw Eddie’s gaze harden.
“Eddie, don’t.” Jeff warns. “She’s having a really good time.”
Eddie didn’t respond. He took the flask out of his pocket and took a long swig. As he put it away, he stood up, vision locked on your dancing figures. Jeff sighed and put his head in his hands. Dustin and Mike looked at him confused. Jeff shook his head at them, implying that they didn’t want to know.
Eddie sauntered up to Gareth and grabbed his shoulder. Your smile faded as Gareth turned around to face Eddie.
“Hey, can we talk?” Eddie seethed through gritted teeth. Gareth looked at you apologetically.
“I’ll be right back okay?” He squeezed your hand and let Eddie guide him out of the gym. You were left in the middle of the dancefloor, too stunned to move or say anything. Dustin came to your side and asked if you wanted to sit back down with the club. You nodded, dazed, but followed after the two boys into the hallway instead.
Eddie pushed Gareth into the hallway and grabbed onto his lapels. You ducked around the corner so you were within earshot and close enough to help Gareth if he needed it.
“What the fuck are you doing Gareth?”
“What are you talking about, Munson?” Gareth pushed Eddie off and he began to smooth out his jacket.
“Why are you here with her?”
“What, like you were going to ask her to go with you?” Gareth challenged. Eddie looked at him dumbfounded. “Look, Eddie. If you really cared about her, you would let her have a good time tonight. You’re too busy with Chrissy lately anyway so I don’t know why this is suddenly such a big deal…”
Eddie clenched his fists and stalked towards Gareth. You covered your mouth to prevent the two from hearing your gasp.
“That’s my girl… you’re here with my-”
“Oh shut the hell up, Munson! She’s not your girl! Your girl is here with Jason fucking Carver. The guy that has been tormenting us for fucking years! Get your head out of your ass and stop playing with Y/N. She isn’t yours.” Gareth yelled. Eddie wracked out a sob and turned away from his friend. Gareth’s stomach sank and he watched his friend unravel in the hallway.
“I didn’t ask her here romantically, Eddie.” Gareth offered. “I care about her a lot, but I know that she doesn’t like me. I know exactly who she wants to be here with.” Gareth bores into Eddie, only hoping that their conversation will knock some sense into him. You slip back into the gym and sit with the hellfire club, mind racing thinking about what you just heard.
“If you’ll excuse me, I am going to continue to keep having fun with my friend.” Gareth stepped closer to Eddie and clapped him on the shoulder. “Get your shit together, Munson, and then try and enjoy yourself for once.” With that, Eddie was left alone in the hallway. He pulled at the roots of his hair, and let a string of profanities leave his mouth. It was better than punching a wall like last time.
Gareth returned to the gym and sat next to you with a smile, reassuring you everything was fine. Gareth whispered in your ear, telling you he wasn’t going to let anyone ruin this night for you or him and that it was time to have fun and forget about everything happening outside of this night. You couldn’t agree more. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a thankful hug. He laughed as the two of you positioned yourselves towards the stage as the principal announced the prom king and queen would be crowned shortly.
Eddie slithered back into the gym, his arms crossed and a grimace glued on his face. He saw Chrissy and although his heart should have skipped a beat, it did nothing. She looked beautiful, gorgeous even. But she wasn’t you. But you made it clear, and Gareth made it clear. You weren’t his and you didn’t owe him anything. You deserved to have a good night and as much as he wanted to take you away and drive off with you, he knew that couldn’t happen. So he would settle for his dance in secret, and the potential for some action after Chrissy got her ten minutes of fame. 
As the microphone squealed and the gym quieted, Chrissy shifted in her chair restlessly. Her dress felt too tight, and Jason felt too close. She wanted the boy that made her feel the prettiest. She wanted the boy who would do anything for her to be beside her. She wanted to dance with the boy who told her that he adored her. Her eyes scanned around the gym and she saw him lingering against the back wall. She sent him a wave as she smiled brightly. He waved back but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. She thought she knew why he was so upset. He hated seeing her with Jason. She was starting to hate being here with Jason too. When Jason was called for prom King, he patted Chrissy on the thigh, gave her a kiss on the forehead and sauntered up to the stage to receive his crown. Chrissy felt like she was going to be sick. This was the single most important moment to her. Principal Higgins held a white envelope in his hands.
“And this year’s prom queen is…” He fumbled with the envelope.
You were rooting for Chrissy. You knew that you didn’t need to be, but there was part of you that was longing for your old friend back. Maybe her winning prom queen would bring her back from her orbit. 
“Chrissy Cunningham”
Chrissy opened her perfectly glossed lips into a gasp. She stood timidly and strutted to the stage to accept her crown and flowers. She flashed a beauty pageant smile and wave and sobbed a thank you to the gym. You could tell that she was definitely not sober. You worried for her, but this was also your night. She was Jason’s problem, not yours. It gave you a small bit of relief to see Eddie was not in a matching baby pink getup to the blonde’s. They didn’t come here together. You knew you shouldn’t be holding out hope, but the scene he caused on the dancefloor and now this, you couldn’t help but be a bit hopeful.
Once Chrissy and Jason took a bow as king and queen, the DJ had spun a slow song. Gareth offered you his hand again and you happily accepted it. Dancing with Gareth had been the most fun you have had in a while. You both went to the dancefloor and dramatically rocked each other back and forth. 
Chrissy left the stage and as Jason went to grab her to dance with her, she tossed her flowers to him and trudged across the gym in Eddie’s direction. Jason looked back to his posse confused, he followed Chrissy’s bouncy curls to the opposite end of the gym.
Eddie nursed his flask as dancers started to repopulate the space. He saw you get up with Gareth. He scoffed and took another swig of his flask. When his eyes returned to the mass of students, he saw a pair of bright blue eyes bounding towards him. He stood in shock, not knowing what Chrissy was doing. When she reached the wall he was leaning against, she stuck out a perfectly manicured hand to him, her face set with determination. She led him to the middle of the dance floor. 
“Chris, wh-what are you doing?” Eddie breathed
“Shut up, Munson. W-we are gonna d-dance:” she slurred. 
“We don’t have to-” She stopped him in the middle of the gym and wrapped her arms around his neck. He could see Jason fuming behind her and he smirked down at her. 
“You’re ready to stir the pot aren’t you, doll?” Eddie chuckled. 
“Yeah, I’m r-r-ready to start some, some shit b-because I-I love you, E-Eddie Munson.” Her blue eyes bore into him. Did he really just hear her properly? He felt like there was only one right thing to say.
“I, I love you too, Chrissy,” Eddie hesitated. Before he could wrap his head around what had happened, Chrissy pulled his head down to hers and planted a searing kiss on him. He quickly returned her offer and swiped his tongue over her lips. She deepened the kiss. Eddie felt like he was floating, but it didn’t feel like it was a good feeling. Chrissy tasted sour like wine and Eddie’s head pounded. But feeling this was better than feeling nothing. It was better than the emptiness he felt when he saw you being held by someone else. He kissed Chrissy like no one was watching, while in reality all of the gym had directed their gaze to the world's oddest couple they could imagine.
You swayed Gareth back and forth, laughing so hard your stomach hurt and your face felt like the smile was never going to leave. Once your laughs subsided, you pulled Gareth in closely and rested your head on his shoulder. You closed your eyes and hummed in content. 
“Thank you, Gareth. This has been such a great night”
“You’re welcome, Y/N. I am having so much fun with you” Gareth rubbed small circles into your waist as you turned slowly. You opened your eyes and you instantly stood up, your body tensing under Gareth’s touch.
“Hey, what’s wr-” Gareth turned to look behind him and saw the picture perfect way to ruin your night. Gareth stiffened and grabbed your hand. You didn’t want to look but you couldn’t avert your gaze. You felt like you were going to be sick. Gareth grabbed your hand and whispered in your ear.
“Let’s go get some fresh air, okay?” You nodded your head and let him lead you out of the gym.
As Eddie broke his kiss, the first thing he saw was you taking in their display. Then he saw you turn and leave the gym with Gareth’s hand in yours. Eddie grabbed Chrissy’s hand and kissed it and ran out of the gym after you. 
You refused to let the tears fall. You didn’t want to ruin your night with Gareth and you didn’t want to give Eddie and Chrissy the satisfaction. Why would he look at you the way he did, why would he say those things to Gareth? Why would he call you his girl? Gareth could tell you were trying to process, so he squeezed your hand to ground you and remind you he was here for you. 
“Y/N” you hear a familiar voice ring out. The voice you wanted to hear the most and the least. You turn to find Eddie standing in the middle of the empty hallway. Gareth gripped onto your hand tighter, a scowl setting on his face.
“What do you want, Eddie?” you manage to squeak out.
“I-I’m sorry” he huffed. “I’m so fucking sorry”
“For what, Eddie? For being defensive all night, telling Gareth that I’m your girl?” Gareth and Eddie both tensed. “For knowing that my heart fully belongs to you and you actively shitting on it? What is it?” You were angry. You deserved to be angry. This time, it was Eddie’s turn to cry. You walked towards him, cheeks growing hot. You came chest to chest with him when you heard the gym door fly open.
“E-Eddie, my love?” Chrissy giggled. She stopped when she saw the three of you in the hallway. “Oh no.” She murmured. 
“Chrissy, go back inside. I’ll be there in a minute.” Eddie ordered. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. Tears are now dangerously close to ruining your makeup.
“Hmmmm, no. I think I wanna st-stay for this Teddy” she cooed. She stumbled towards him and threw her weight on him. 
“Yeah, Teddy. She might want to stay for this.” you sneer. You could feel your blood heating up, your hand tightening on Gareth’s.”Why did you kiss me in the theatre?” You take a step back as Eddie opens his mouth to speak and closes it again. “Tell me it wasn’t because you were in love with me and I’ll walk away right fucking now.” you sniffle.
“He didn’t love you, babe. He only kissed you b-back  b-because he f-f-felt bad for you. That’s what he told me” Chrissy hiccupped. Eddie looked at you, his eyes now freely flowing.
“Y/N… Please” Eddie begs. You laugh at him.
“Is that the truth Eddie? Is that how you really feel? Or is that what you told Chrissy to feel better about the fact that you kissed me, and you didn’t want to stop?” You spit.”Or was it what you told her to get in her pants without any punishment?”
“Please don’t do that” Eddie whispered. You start to back away with Gareth. Eddie tries to peel Chrissy’s arms off of his torso.
“I’m leaving right now Eddie and you have a choice to make. You can come with me and that will be enough of an explanation.” You stood strong and dropped your hand that was holding Gareth’s. He whispered your name softly. You turn to him and smile tightly to let him know that it was okay. You turn back to Eddie who stands still.
“Eddie, lets gooooo.” Chrissy whines.She began to pull his arm back towards the gym. His feet feel like they weigh a thousand pounds. He looks to you, completely heartbroken as your gaze hardens at the drunk prom queen hanging around his body. You chuckle as he lets Chrissy pull his body back towards the gym.
“Great. We’re done.”
You hear Eddie release a broken Sob as you grab Gareth’s hand and walk through the double doors.
Chrissy finally drags him back towards the bustling music and plastic tinsel of the gym. He felt like he could throw up. How could he just let you walk away?
Gareth opens his truck door open for you and helps you get seated in the passenger seat. He stands in between you and his truck door. He kissed your forehead and began to run his hand up and down your arm.
“Do you wanna go home, sweetheart?”
“You know what, a milkshake sounds really fucking great right now” you smile. Gareth laughs and you eventually join him.
“Milkshakes coming right up.”
Taglist:
@mxcheese , @anislabonis-love , @zenathebeautiful , h-ness1944 , @nymphetkoo , @tlclick73 , @darknesseddiem , @nega-omega , @them-cute-boys , @eggo-segual , @browneyes528 , @ali-r3n , @micheledawn1975 @partydulce @eddies-puppet , @elvendria , @itsjustwous , @littlemisslovestoread , @kjcmama , @chloe-6123 , @navs-bhat , @loveforreading , @thegirlthatsfalling , @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e , @metalhead-succubus
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gyuarchives · 3 months
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wrong timing, right nor wrong person.(?) | a choi yeonjun oneshot. (good ending)
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sypnosis: this is the last time. you told yourself this is the last time that you would let yourself fall in the arms of love and catch feelings for a person. you don't even care if it was the right thing to do or not. but maybe, just maybe, your shot would hit the bullseye this time.
genre: happy ending (yay!), fluff, gn!reader
word count: 894 words
warning: none!
note: if you're seeing this before the original story, click here to read the intended ending (the bad ending)! there is no particular order of how you wanna read it but just to let you know that this is a different ending from the OG one! enjoy!
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"can i talk to you?"
"yeah sure! i still have some time left before my next class, what's up?"
you hate it. you hate this smile on his face that makes you feel like the whole world will be okay and that there is nothing to worry about, but your mind was filled to the brim with worries, concerns and your heart was screaming for you not to do this; however your mind said that you should, because you wouldn't have another passing chance like this again.
"no like, in private."
he looked around the lecture theatre as the other students were taking their leave after the boring class ended a few minutes ago, only the nerdy, studious ones stayed back, but none that you would even care about.
it felt like he did not want to budge from the spot he was standing between the seats, so there wasn't much choice but to do it then and there.
you took a deep breath, and dived right into the deep end.
"yeonjun, i know we have been friends for so long, and school has been so much fun with you around. classes were more tolerable, lunch breaks were so full of shit-talking about groupmates and professors.. there was never a dull moment since we worked on that project together and got closer. you came around quick every time i needed help, and you never fail to cheer me up on days when i couldn't move a muscle to smile. you really make me feel much better about life."
at this point you weren't halfway through your confession, and you were already choking up on words as your vision starts to get bleary. yeonjun looked like he knew which direction this was going. you exhaled strongly through your nose for an inch of relief.
"all those moments made me feel somewhat...attracted to you. and i couldn't ignore those feelings. every day i get to school, the only thing i would look forward to was seeing your face in classes we shared.. p-point is, i like you. so much. and i know our final year is already ending, but i feel like i need to get this off my chest before the end, or else i will never lay it to rest. and i don't really care if you don't feel the same, this was mainly for me. okay?"
you stopped talking and finally looked up from the ground to watch his face unfold into a look so mellowed, yet shocked. he couldn't even fathom his words right, and you could see his brain turning to match your words into coherent sentences that he could register.
he rubbed his mouth anxiously, a subconscious self-soothing gesture as he tried to process your confession. he didn't know how to take your words in, but he knew he has to say something anyway.
"hey yn look-"
"if you are going to reject me or say that you're seeing someone please save i-"
"i-i like you too."
your mind stopped working. for the first time today, you looked into his eyes in search of some genuineness. is he being for real?
"r-really? did- did you just say.. that??" you stumbled on your words not believing the first time he said that.
"yes.. yes i did, yn."
he smiled at you sweetly, eyes formed into crescent moons, letting you know that it is sincere. yeonjun gently pulled your arm and you let yourself drift closer to his body, hugging him in the process. he wrapped his arm around you as he caressed your hair lovingly.
"well...this is nice."
you giggled after making a sudden comment, hearing his heartbeat strong and rhythmic on his chest, reminding you of how glad he was to finally let you know what he has been feeling for a couple of weeks now; all those moments of stealing glances during lectures, babbling to the other 4 of his best friends of how he feels towards you everyday (and slightly annoying them with how often he talks about you and the rest having no such game), wandering around beaches and parks alone to properly think about the situation, if it was really a genuine crush or just a passing feeling he will get over.
you weren't any different either. it was hell for a few months ever since you realised you developed feelings for your project mate and you couldn't look at him the same after the discovery. you didn't go about a day without asking your friends if it was the right choice in crushing on him and them supporting you in the decision, but you couldn't help but question if he's already taken on the down low, or he was just being very kind to you and that is just his personality to everyone else. it is safe to say that none of those are true now.
you heard his giggles reverberate through his chest that made you smile much wider, encouraging you to be glad that the last time you gave love a chance was the first time you struck jackpot.
"let's go on a date right now then."
"now?! jjun, i literally look so ugly right now.."
"hey noo don't say that! you look cute. no one else will see you but me, so let's go try that new cafe down the street yeah?"
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a/n: hope you enjoyed the good ending :3 feel like ive been writing alot of bad endings these days so i figured hey maybe i should write a nice one so yall wouldnt leave this app heartbroken </3
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Pas de Deux
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For @glitterypirateduck's May 2024 Ghost challenge (item #100)!
I don't write Ghost, but I love Duck too much to pass it up. <3
You invited your brother, Kyle, to come and watch your performance as Odette in Swan Lake. He makes it to the theatre, but he brings his friends. That's when you fall head over heels for Simon Riley.
You’d begged your brother to come to your final performance. You needed him there, needed to feel him in the crowd, even if you couldn’t see him out there. Kyle promised he would be there, and as you went through your pre-show routine, you hoped he would be true to his word. 
You knew it was difficult for him to get away from work. You’d left him with four tickets, asking him to invite his mates, if that would make it easier. You remember seeing his soft smile as he fanned out the bright gold tickets, inwardly laughing at you for not understanding the contrast between your world and his as he commented,
“These blokes aren’t really keen on ballets, Duck.”
He’d always called you by that stupid nickname. Well, the longer version had been his favorite as a teenage boy: the Ugly Duckling. But, it was fine. You’d called him Vile instead of Kyle most of his life, so you felt like it was an even score. 
“It’s important to me,” you’d insisted. 
“I know,” he nodded, conceding, “I’ll try.”
So, as the lights were warming up and you were applying your third layer of powder, praying for a smooth night, your heart stretched itself out, begging not to be broken, the whining strings of the cellos and violins in the pit below your feet made the sounds that your heartstrings were feeling — too quiet, too off-key. 
“Hey, babe,” one of your fellow dancers hissed at you from behind the backstage door, “Why didn’t you tell us you had a hot brother with a bunch of hot friends?”
“What?” You asked, confused, shaken out of your mental focus.
Then, over her shoulder, you saw Kyle’s face. He beamed at you, giving you a little wave. You leapt up from the floor where you were stretching, not yet in full costume, wrapping yourself in a warm wool sweater, rushing to greet him.
“You came!” You smiled up at him, wrapping him in a big hug. He hugged you back, full of his immense strength. You stood back to get a better look at him. He was all dressed up, and you couldn’t believe it. Someone behind him cleared their throat, getting your attention. 
“Oh, right. Duck, these are my mates,” he pointed them out one by one, “Johnny MacTavish, John Price, and Simon Riley.”
When he pointed to the last one, you felt your breath catch in your throat. It felt as if he was the one who caught it. He was a tower of a man, and his broad, muscular shoulders dwarfed his big friends, making the dancers who were rushing by him back and forth to the stage seem so small. Unlike the other two, his face didn’t light up in a warm smile. His bright eyes simply took you in, drinking you like a long draught, swallowing every piece of you. He studied your makeup, your neck and your shoulders, all the way down your legs, scanning you like he would be given an exam. 
“Nice to meet you. Thank you so much for coming, seriously. I’ve been trying to get Kyle to show up for months.”
The stocky man with the beard smiled back at you warmly, 
“We love a good ballet, don’t we, lads?”
You didn’t miss the way his elbow jutted out to stab Simon in the ribs, prompting him to speak. 
When he did, his voice was quiet, and although he had a thick Manc accent, his tone was controlled, measured, even, 
“Aye. Big fans.”
“Oh, well,” you couldn’t stop staring at Simon, so you pinned your eyes to the floor instead, “I hope you enjoy it.”
“Drinks after, yeah?” Kyle said, rubbing your arm supportively.
You nodded, watching them head back to the main auditorium. 
A few friends, dancers and stagehands alike, rushed up to you as they left, gushing about how attractive they all were. 
“Who was that bloody blond giant? Dressed in all black. He was lookin’ at you like he was hungry.”
“I want the Scot with the mohawk. I’m not takin’ no for an answer, girlie. Oh, my God. Did you see his kilt?”
“Your brother is so damn fit! What the fuck, babes?”
“I liked the scruffy one the best. Bet that beard feels good between —”
“Okay! It’s almost showtime. Let’s circle up,” you escaped from the prop room, scurrying back onto the main stage, trying to get your head back in the game. 
You went through your warmups with your dancers, and you let your costumers fit you into your opening dress. You needed to think about your work, but you couldn’t get Simon’s sharp gaze out of your mind. He did, in fact, look hungry, and the way his eyes raked over you made you feel every bit like a hot meal. 
As the music began, your mind went blank, blissfully quiet and clear. Your muscle memory took over, and you powered through the motions, enjoying the feeling of your blood rushing through your veins. You trusted yourself to get you through the first act, hitting all of your marks and expecting nothing less than perfection. 
It wasn’t until you put on the black mask for Odile’s dance with the prince that you began to lose your concentration. There was a wildness that took over you when you played the black swan, a ferocity that your studio director gushed about to the press and to anyone else who cared to listen. 
“She’s like an animal! It’s to die for. You must come and see her on stage. It will change this ballet forever!” 
You weren’t sure you appreciated being referred to as an animal, but you had to admit that there was something beastial about your transformation. The mask made you feel like you were a new person. It gave you the ability to become someone else, something else. You were sexual and aggressive, dominant and fearsome. It was just what Odile needed, and you delivered. 
Except, when you put the mask on tonight, you caught a glimpse of him from backstage. He was sitting in the box that you had bought for your brother, and one of the spotlights’ films had lit his cheek. It was a soft light, but it was enough. As you took your first steps on stage, you couldn’t help but look up towards him, and the flash of hunger in his eyes was still there. So, you decided to give him your animalistic side. 
You’d never danced the way you danced that night. The crowd was roaring, and your costar whispered to you,
“Go off, queen. What’s gotten into you?”
“I don’t know,” you whispered back, lying through your teeth. 
By the time you left the stage, daring to look back over your shoulder, Simon hadn’t taken his eyes off of you for one moment, and his nostrils flared, breathing deeply, trying to calm himself from your display. 
Before you knew it, the curtains closed, and you were bowing, dodging thrown roses and teddy bears, elegantly taking your leave. Your body was dripping sweat, and you rushed over to your bag, scarfing down some power gels and cracking open a nutrition bar, hurrying to bring your body back to normal after its ordeal. You’d be expected to pose for some VIP photos in just a few minutes, so you touched up your makeup, but there was only so much you could do. 
“My star!” Your director burst through the back door, “Beautiful! You were incredible tonight. Bring your masks. I have some people who want to meet you.”
You nodded, scooping up your masks and giving your bag to one of the other dancers to take back to the barre room. 
You schmoozed for a bit, but something itched at the back of your mind. You felt like you were being watched. Then, just while you were taking a photo with someone’s eager six-year-old, you spotted him. Simon stood behind Kyle, staring at you without shame while the other men laughed and joked with a gaggle of dancers. They had swarmed them, fluttering about, insisting to be invited for drinks, and Kyle was eating it up. You didn’t care, though. There was only one thing you wanted — aside from a hot bath and your comfy bed — and that was to enjoy those things with Simon Riley, if he agreed. 
“Excuse me, Madame Savoie. I’m exhausted, and my brother is in town. May I take my leave for the night?”
“Of course!” Your director beamed at you, “After that performance, you can take whatever you want.”
She laughed. Her rich friends laughed. You didn’t, but you managed a smile. 
You made your way through the crowd over to Kyle and broke the news, 
“Kyle, I’m not going to make it to the pub. I’m beat. I think I’ll just walk home.”
“You can’t walk home by yourself, Duckie. You live in bloody Soho.”
“I’ll be alright. I’ll just —”
“I’ll take her,” that Manc accent oozed its way through the din, and almost everyone turned to look at Simon as he offered his services. 
Kyle made a face at you, his arms wrapped around two dancers, one on each side, and he shrugged, 
“Alright, Duck. Tomorrow for breakfast, though. No excuses.” 
You watched as your brother untangled his right arm from one of your swans, and stuck out his hand for Simon to shake. You saw Simon pause, making clear eye contact with your brother, and extending his wide, pale hand. 
You weren’t exactly sure what weird sort of ritual you were witnessing, but it seemed like the two men had an entire conversation in just that short span. Then, Simon’s attention was turned fully back to you. 
“C’mon, then. I just need to get my bag.”
He didn’t say anything, but he did hold the door for you, and his huge stature did help part the crowd like some sort of biblical sea, making sure you had easy access to the exits. 
The barre room was a bright, white open space, and the wooden floors popped and creaked as you walked across them. 
Your impromptu bodyguard followed close behind, but he paused near the door when he was presented with the huge room.
“I’d hate to meet that ballerina,” he chuckled. 
You turned around, confused by his comment, 
“Which one?”
“The one who hit her head on the ceiling to make them build it this bloody high.”
You looked up to where he was pointing, laughing at his odd joke,
“It’s for the piano,” you explained. 
“That’s even scarier,” he grimaced, staring up at the high ceiling as if pianos would start falling from it. 
You laughed harder, then, imagining a flying baby grand. 
“No! No,” you caught your breath, “The sound. It helps us hear the music.”
“Ahh,” he nodded knowingly, conceding to you, “I see. That makes me feel safer.”
You knelt down and started to pack your back, changing your shoes and slipping out of your outer costume, laying the pieces out like you had been trained to do.
“So, which one do you like better?”
“Hm?” You looked up at him, and he bent his knees to squat down in front of you, plucking your white swan mask out of your bag and touching the fine silk bow with his thumb. 
“Which swan?” He asked, his eyes staring at you carefully. You got the sense that your answer really mattered to him.
“Well,” you said carefully, “Every girl wants to be Odette. She’s the star. It’s her story. And she gets to fall in love with a prince. But… once you play Odile, I think you realize that there’s… well, there’s something to be said for falling in love with yourself, too.”
You smiled, grabbing your black mask by the nose and holding it up to your eyes, glaring at him to make your point. 
“Same person on the inside, though,” he commented, looking down at the white mask in his hand. 
You stood up, and you grabbed his hand to help him up, 
“C’mere. I’ll show you.”
“You’re not going to find a tutu that fits me, love.”
“No tutus for you, I promise. Just… stand here. Like that. Put your hand out like this. Good.”
Once he was in position, you grabbed the white mask from him and tied it around your face, willing your sore body back into position. 
“This is Odette,” you said, making your hands and feet flutter to life. You spun into his hand, letting him feel the weightlessness of your body as you moved against him, the soft silken rustle of your leotard against his huge, callused hand. Eventually, you came to rest facing away from him, your thigh brushing his hip in a long, extended arabesque. His hand never moved from your waist, and you leaned into it, letting him balance you, his palm warm against your belly through the thin fabric. 
“And this…” you replaced the white mask with the black one, changing yourself for him, metamorphosing right before his eyes, “...is Odile.”
This time, you challenged him, making him feel your muscles and bones with each spin, pushing against him like a threat. You could feel his uncertainty, but he naturally steeled himself, grabbing you with more power, trying to harness your energy. But, you knew he couldn’t. He didn’t know what do to. All he could do was stand there and feel you as you moved against him, aggressive and virulent. 
As Odile, your final arabesque pressed into him lustfully, translating that fiery rage, your thigh slammed flush with his body, your hips forcing his hand to grip you to keep you from pushing him backwards. 
Then, you stepped away, removing the mask and doing a little bow for effect. 
“I see,” he murmured, seemingly unphased. But, even though he tried to hide it, his slight adjustment in his black dress pants did not slip by you. He stalked closer to you, closing the space that you had opened. His thumb came up to rub your cheek, right at the edge of the black mask, “Does the mask help?”
You dropped your volume to match his, still catching your breath a bit from the turns, 
“Yeah, it reminds me that I can be someone I’m not.”
“Or maybe you can finally be someone you are,” his thumb traced your smooth skin down to your mouth where your lipstick stains and cracked powder were surely a right mess. But, he didn’t care. He pressed the pad of his finger to your bottom lip anyway, moving so carefully and deliberately you felt like you were under his spell. 
“Maybe.” 
“Hm,” he said noncommittally, backing away from you, releasing you from his invisible hold. 
You finished packing, and you made your way into the dark night with him, walking quickly to get out of the spitting rain. He kept his arm around you, wrapping you in his warmth, shielding you from passersby. 
Your mind was racing. You had taken this stranger home with you, no questions asked. It was a risk that you just didn’t take. When was the last time you even had a bloke in your flat, much less one that you desperately wanted to snog? At least you had cleaned yesterday. It was too small of a place not to pick up at least a little bit each day. There was no room for you to be messy. 
“This is me,” you jingled your keys and pointed up to the tall, modern apartment building, gleaming in glass and steel amidst the historical Soho houses and businesses. 
Every floor was the same. It was all modern and white, almost sterile. You felt like you lived in a museum. 
“Mm, posh,” he commented, a little disgruntled. 
“Free,” you rolled your eyes, “The ballet company houses all of us here.”
“Why can’t my free accommodations ever look this good?”
You cracked open the door to your flat and let him inside. Your cat, Mustard, immediately began her figure-eight dance between his legs, her favorite hello to every person who dared enter her domain. 
“What do your accommodations usually look like, then?” You asked, pouring out some kibble for the cat and hanging your bag on its hook.
“Usually a tent, sometimes a cave. They even gave us a house once, no windows in it, but hey. You win some, you lose some.”
“I worry about Kyle, you know. You lads don’t have an easy job.”
“He’ll be alright. He’s a good one.”
“I know,” you smiled softly, staring up into Simon’s eyes, then you remembered your manners, “Can I get you a drink?”
“No, I’m alright,” he smiled back, turning his head to look around your flat. 
You gave him the short tour,
“Bathroom’s in there, and here’s my bedroom slash office slash den… Only enough room for the bed, really. I’m not here very much.”
“And…” He spoke slowly, carefully, no joviality in his tone this time, “Is it alright that I’m here, love?”
He eyed you cautiously, moving toward you, towering over your small frame, his hulking shoulders curling in on you, casting dark shadows across your vision, keeping you from the light. 
You peered up at him, ignoring his question,
“Do you want to shower with me? I’d fucking murder someone for a hot shower.”
“Yeah,” he said softly, bending forward so that he could press his soft lips to your mouth, kissing you as gently as you’d ever been kissed. But, you could tell, just by the way he moved his jaw, letting his tongue lazily trace your bottom lip, there was so much more fervor under his skin, waiting to be unleashed. Right now, he was Odette, on his best behavior. 
But, you wanted to see his Black Swan. Where was the beast that you knew must lurk within?
He pulled away from you, smiling a bit, and you giggled softly, dragging him along by his wrist, ducking into your spacious bathroom. It was the one thing you loved about this place. There was no living room to speak of, but damn if the bathroom wasn’t perfect. The huge glass shower was enough for a party of four, and the dual shower heads made you feel like some sort of royalty. You couldn’t wait to let your muscles soak under the cascade. Maybe tall, blond and handsome could put those strong hands of his to work and rub you down. 
You stood in the mirror together, looking at each other, and you started to undress. He twisted a finger under the collar of your sweater until he could feel your skin. Then, he slipped it off of your shoulder. You dropped your arm, letting it slide to the floor. Then, as slowly as he could, you watched as he writhed his finger under your leotard’s strap, pulling it down your arm. When it got to be too taut, you helped him, removing your arms and rolling the soft nylon down your aching body. 
Your wig was still on, but you weren’t about to wear it to bed, so you took it off in front of him, running your fingers through your short curls, letting your close-cut fingernails scratch your scalp.
Now, as you stood in the low light of your bathroom mirror, you were naked in front of him, standing with your back to him, covering your breasts in the mirror. Simon bent his head down so he could kiss your neck, and you felt him wrap a big hand around the nape of your neck, holding you in place. His kisses felt hot, and they were deeper than before, more hungry, pressing into you with more power. 
You sighed, enjoying his mouth as it worked on you, but well-aware of just how caked on the sweat and the makeup were after a show, making excuses for yourself,
“I’m sweaty,” you whispered.
“I know,” he smiled, sticking out his fat, pink tongue and licking his way up to your ear, just to make his point. 
He wrapped his arms around you, retreating for a moment, looking at you in the mirror. Then, when he saw you covering yourself, he gently pushed your arms away, making you reveal your bare breasts to him. 
“So fuckin’ pretty,” he praised you, kissing your scalp chastely. 
You turned your back to the looking glass to face him, and you tangled your fingers between the buttons of his dress shirt. You weren’t in any hurry to peel him apart, but as you did, you saw more and more evidence of his hard life. His enormous muscles were inked with old tattoos, war scenes etched into his creamy flesh in black and gray. But, carved across his skin were tens of deep, jagged scars, standing as proof of the cruelty he’d endured. 
You let your mouth fall to his chest, kissing him indiscriminately, licking when you wanted to, nibbling when you wanted to, giving in to your hedonism fully. 
He untucked his shirt for you, peeling it off of his shoulders, and you watched as his muscles rippled and bent around his bones, stretching under his will. You worked on his belt, and he watched you take him apart, both of your heads craned down, staring at your hands as you freed him from his trousers. The zipper fell smoothly, and all that was left were his boxer briefs, underneath which hung a very girthy cock. 
You touched him through the fabric, and he let out a shuddering sigh of relief. 
“You’re a big man, Mr. Riley,” you teased, playing with his head through the thin fabric, meeting his gaze and finding him fully unraveled. His eyes were hooded and lustful, and it made you wonder how he liked to be touched so you could keep him like this, under your spell.
He tucked his thumbs in his pants and pulled them down, bare with you, and he held your body flush to his in a warm hug. You could feel his cock trapped between you, wet and warm on your belly, and his big hands came down to grab two handfuls of your ass, prying you apart so that the cold air of the room would hit your pussy and tell you how wet you were, enjoying the feel of your meat between his fingers. 
“Good thing you’ve got a bloody big shower, love. Might actually be able to stand under the tap, me. Can’t believe it.”
You watched him step into the large glass box and turn on the stream, the heat making him sigh. You joined him, jealous of the feeling, and let your own shower head beat your muscles into submission. 
You hissed in pain and he heard it, snapping his attention to you like a dog with a bone.
“What is it?”
“Sore. End of the week is hard.”
He poured some of your soap into his hand, way too much, but you didn’t correct him, and he commented as he bathed you,
“I read about it before we came, you know. Read about the story. About what you have to do to be the star. Hard work, that.”
“There are harder things,” You said in a low voice, tracing a particularly suspicious-looking wound in the shape of a bullet on his right hip.  
“Not many. Turn around,” he commanded. You were pleasantly surprised how much you liked it when he took control. 
Here, in the warm nest of the shower, you gave him your weakness and let him take care of you. He massaged your shoulders and your back unprompted, rubbing slick suds all over your skin, and he washed your hair. You moisturized on your own, letting him smell all of your tonics and potions, washing your face as he fondled your ass again, enjoying you fully. 
You felt like time had stopped. 
You washed him, letting your hands roam, caring for him as he had cared for you, and when you were both clean, you couldn’t help but linger on each other a bit. He reached between your legs and explored you for a moment, swiping his huge finger through your curls. When he found your warmth, so different from the steam of the shower, and a different wetness, too, he sighed. 
“Is it alright if I stay the night?” He asked. 
It surprised you. You assumed that getting naked and showering in front of a man who would be immediately boxed up and shipped back to Khandor on the next flight out would have stayed without asking. He would have assumed that his presence was his invitation. 
You nodded, 
“Please stay, Simon.”
He touched your breast, plucking at your nipple softly, seeming like he was uncertain despite your answer. You pried,
“Are you worried about Kyle? Did he say something —”
“No,” Simon smiled, “He knows you’re a big girl. It’s just been awhile… for me.”
“If you want to go…” You let your hands spread wide across his chest, purposely avoiding his cock, not wanting to sway him in a covinous way. 
He shook his head,
“No. I just want you to be sure. I can’t… We leave again, and I can’t make promises.”
“No promises. I know what you do. I know who you are because I know who Kyle is. You aren’t misleading me here, Simon. But, if you don’t take me to bed, I might lose my bloody mind.”
The smile that spread across his face then was a true one. It couldn’t hide. It squeezed his cheeks up into his eyes and wrinkled their edges like a paper fan. His full lips pulled tight across those white teeth, his incisors long like fangs and just as sharp. And he blushed, that pale skin giving away his feelings to you. 
He kissed your forehead and turned off the taps, retrieving two towels and bundling you in one, on your way back to bed, you snatched your lotion and started to put it on in a half-assed way, hurrying for his benefit. 
“Hey, stealin’ my duties?”
Simon plucked the lotion out of your head and nodded to the bed. You lay down for him, waiting for what he had in store. He pumped the lotion into his hand, less this time, you noticed, and began at your thighs. His wide palms rubbed and massaged you until he had covered you, paying attention to your hands and feet, before commanding you again:
“Flip over, love.”
You gladly did, sighing and moaning shamelessly as he rubbed lotion all over your back and legs. When he got to your round, plump ass, he took more of his time. 
“Watchin’ you move up there on that stage, tryin’ to seduce the bloody prince, fuck… it made me feel like you were dancing for me. The way you move… your body… I’ve never seen anythin’ like it.”
“I was,” you confessed. 
“What?” He stopped massaging you, putting the lotion on your table and crawling into the bed with you. 
You waited until you were under the covers with your head firmly planted on his chest before admitting it to him, 
“I was dancing for you tonight. When I saw you with my brother… you were all I could think about. I could see you in the box, when I was Odile, and I wanted you to look at me.”
“I couldn’t stop looking at you.”
You weren’t sure who kissed who, but you were now trapped within each other, sucking at each others’ mouths, moaning and writhing in each others’ arms. Snogging like you were dying. 
His cock was already hard, but you felt its smooth, silky body pressing and throbbing against your belly as he held you close, hungry for your wet hole, eager to be the one to fill it. 
You let your hand fall between you, jerking him off, rubbing slick circles around his head until he had to break your kiss to cry out for you. You raised your leg over his hip and moved to put him inside you, but he shook his head and started chanting in short, breathless whispers,
“Wait, wait, wait…”
Then, he disappeared, leaving you at the top of the duvet alone, licking and sucking his way down your body until he reached your pussy. As he began to eat you, he also spread you apart. You’d never felt so exposed before, but he wanted to lick your petals, slurping them into his mouth like the lobes of a sweet orange, one by one devouring you in your sensitive state. 
Your hands scratched at his scalp, which he seemed to enjoy. You watched his eyes flutter with pleasure after a particularly vigorous passthrough. 
“Taste so fuckin’ good. Gimme that come, baby,” he growled, gently circling your entrance with two thick fingers before fitting them into you with a wet, slick sound. 
“Oh!” You called out, staring down at him as he planted his mouth over your clit, suckling at its swollen body, razing your nerves to ashes. 
It didn’t take long before he had you coming for him, and when he felt you tense up beneath his hands, that true smile was back. He sat up on his knees and helped you come back down, slowing his movements just enough to calm your breathing, but keeping you precariously balanced on the edge where he wanted you. 
“Turn over on your belly, love.”
For some reason, it made you feel incredibly vulnerable to have him behind you, and your body shivered from the tension. He noticed, and he lay himself over you, soothing you, whispering right into your ear,
“I’ve got you, love. You wanna stop, we’ll stop. No problem. That clear?”
You nodded your head, and he met your eyes, making damn sure. Then, satisfied, you heard him digging around in his discarded dress pants, the crinkle of the foil condom, and then the slick roll of the barrier slipping over his head. 
“Thank fuck for condoms,” he laughed, “Might give me a chance to last more than a few minutes in this pretty fuckin’ cunt.”
You laughed with him, shrugging,
“You come, we try again. I’m not bothered.”
“Mm,” he nuzzled your ear, laying his body over yours and letting you feel his weight. His cockhead was tickling your entrance, but he didn’t go any further, saying, “This must be my white swan I have beneath me. Sweet on me, huh?”
“Mmhm,” you nodded, reeling from the sensation of his tip rolling around your hole’s entrance, desperately grinding for more. 
“What would the black swan say to me, huh?”
You looked over your shoulder at him, meeting his eyes, and just like you had in the barre room, you showed him your other side. When he saw the flash in your eyes of your wildness, he knew he’d gotten his wish. You shoved your hips down, spearing yourself onto him before he was ready for you, making him gasp as your pussy slaked over the first few inches of his cock. 
“Give me your cock, Simon.”
He recovered, biting his lip and thrusting into you, stuffing himself inside of you deeper and deeper, 
“There she is. My girl…”
The power that he used to fuck you was beyond anything that any other man had dared give you. You didn’t know this was a possibility. Your whole body was trapped beneath him, being kissed and crushed and fucked into a wet, submissive mess. His arms were planted beside you, pinning you in, and honestly, you had never felt so safe. 
You could smell your coconut body wash on him, mixing with whatever it was that made him a man, musky and dark, a hint of his Camel Blues. You wanted to bathe in him, just as he had washed you with his hands. Instead of soap, you wanted it to be him, smearing himself all over you, caking you in his essence. 
“Fuck, you are so tight. Squeezin’ me. Fuck…”
He was off of you in a flash, and before you knew it, he’d flipped you over. He spread open your legs and played with you for a moment, trying to stop himself from coming. His cock was in his other hand like a vice, and you watched him struggle with no small sense of pride. 
You decided it was your turn to lead this dance, and you sat up, kissing him full on the mouth, letting your tongue loll against his, sensuous and warm. Then, you wrapped your knees around him and shoved him back toward the foot of the bed, riding him down. When you caught your balance, you reached behind you to feed him into your pussy again, pressing into him with your weight. 
“Wait! Oh, fuckin’ hell.”
Simon’s hands went to your hips and then immediately to cover his mouth, stopping himself from gasping from the sensation. You ignored him, bucking against his huge cock, discovering you could take him even deeper. As you began to grind against him, you let your hands play in your folds, vibrating your clit and driving yourself wild. Your other hand went to his balls, rolling them gently in your hands behind your back.
“Ungh… You are gonna make me come, love.”
As soon as you heard his confession, you released him from your hand and paused at the top of your thrust, hovering on his tip in midair, teasing him ruthlessly. 
“Oh… you —” Simon never finished his sentence because he grabbed you around your hips and dropped you back to the bed, prowling over you and huffing like a stuck bull. You were laughing in gasping breaths from the shock of his strength, and you almost missed the moment when he began to press his swollen rod back inside of you, spearing you mercilessly. 
You whimpered, wrapping your hands around his neck like a lifeline.
“Mmm,” he purred proudly, “She needs me, now. Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, letting him kiss you languidly with soft, pliant lips.
“Needs me like this, huh? Tell me.”
“I need you, Si—”
“Tell. Me.”
“I need you so bad! Please, please… fuck me like this. Fuck —”
He covered your mouth with his own and chased down your orgasm like a thief, watching as your eyes got wide, pulling away so he could hear you keen. 
“Yes, yes, yes…” He chanted in your face, not moving away for a second, unwilling to miss even one moment of it. 
“Simon…” You whined, feeling the shock of your release and the afterburn of your pleasure as it flooded through your core, messy and salacious. 
“Feel so good, baby,” he was barely speaking above a whisper, sounding like he was drunk, struggling to keep his rhythm.
“You gonna come in me?”
Hope and bliss flashed across his face, and he kissed you again, pressing his nose right beside your nose and muttering into your mouth, 
“Fuck yes, fuck, fuck, fuck…”
As he came, he held his breath, locked, frozen in time, his eyes wrenched shut and his mouth wide open in a silent scream. You held his head in your arms, keeping him close to you, keeping him safe like he had kept you.
When he finally took a breath, it was ragged and gravelly. He panted like a tired hound, sucking in air and leaning against you to recover. For a while, you just lay together, his big body draped over yours, healing in you, using your wet come as a salve. 
Then, he slipped away, leaving you bereft at the loss. 
He pulled you into his arms, making sure you were covered and warm in your bed, finding your eyes and kissing your cheek, wordlessly thanking you for what he had done to you.
“Do you want me to go?” He whispered, his eyes closed as if he couldn’t face the answer.
“Please, stay. Don’t leave me, Simon. Not yet.”
“C’mere,” he sighed, curling his body around yours, securing you in his arms, breathing with you until you both tumbled into a deep, dark sleep.
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liennka · 2 months
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Another tragedy in your pitiful collection of plays
Interview with the Vampire characters x gn reader
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Summary: you witness the tragedy that happened that day in the Theatre des vampires and tell your side of story to Molloy…(s2e7)
-> This one is pure angst and rage, I am open to any criticism (be nice pls) and I hope you like it :)
I just wanted to say that I am not the owner of this show, but I did make this story, so don't copy it without my knowledge, thank you.
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I've never been so scared. As if the whole world pressed against me, its weight crushing my chest, squeezing my heart. As if I was suffocating, my lungs empty, squeezing my windpipe. One look at the stage and my heart threatened to burst, yet I couldn't tear my eyes from their faces. Madeleine's blank gaze, her pale skin covered in blood darker than her lipstick. Claudia's resigned sneer, her mouth open, always ready to defend herself. Louis' furrowed brows, one eye slightly swollen. The smell of blood everywhere. Just another batch of strawberry syrup with dye for the people watching, even for me in other situations, but today it was the blood of my friends. Reeking of metal and bitterness, flowing straight from their hearts, poured onto the floor from their mutilated heels. 
I could not hear what they were saying. What made Claudia stand up and gasp with pain, what made Luis fall to the ground. No pre-written words from Santiago, no laughter from the people, no retelling of Lestat's life, no music.  My head was silent, only Armand's whispering, a voice that was familiar, a voice that lulled me to sleep. His powers that immobilized my body, his pity, his reassurances. My mind was clouded. Inside I was aware of what was happening, the fear and disgust, I wanted to scream, wanted to get out. But Armand did not. I could feel tears streaming down my face, but not my muscles… Then all the whispering stopped.  
"Banishment!" The crowd shouted in unison, in unprecedented desperation. The sound broke my hypnosis. What happened? I scanned the audience carefully, glancing at the man next to me. He sat behind the bars, giving the impression of a prisoner, but I knew very well that the only one holding him captive was himself. His inner self-degradation, his way of avoiding guilt. Why did Armand let me loose? What took his attention that even his love could not keep? Was it an unpredictable course of the play? Did the audience disappoint him?  He didn't move a hair, his eyes didn't flicker, his hands didn't clench. Still, someone had manipulated the crowd. If it wasn't him, then who? Lestat's ear was bleeding, his hand was shaking, and his eyes were red. It was him. Lestat. Armand wanted Luis dead.
"Is this what you wanted? Another tragedy in your pitiful collection of plays? Another reminder of your endless suffering?" I finally regained my voice and snapped at him, my hand gripping his arm. 
I've never been so mad.  As if the whole world was laughing, its ignorance signing the death penalty for these three vampires, the audience enjoying the show. As if they wore sunglasses while their skin burned. No, I was not mad at those fools in those seats, I was mad at the fool in my coupé, in a cage he designed himself. Watching a play he wrote himself.
"Louis!" Claudia yelled, clutching his shirt in despair, though there was nothing she could do to prevent it.
"You can still end it. This time you can say No", I begged Armand, I always begged. He just shook his head. "Not to the laws," he whispered. Luis's screams filled the backstage until it ceased altogether, stifled by the doors.
"Is this a revenge on Lestat? Is this a way to regain the power over your coven? Is this revenge on your coven?" I took a breath "This is not the way! For once, do not let others trample over you, swallow your wounded pride and let it go. This plan of yours will hurt all of us, not just them! This is a mistake!" my voice wavered, I was desperate. Out of the corner of my eye, Santiago was talking to the humans, warning them. So did I, warning Armand, pleading with him, threatening him.
"Stop," his cold tone pinned me to the ground again, literally.
"Let them live," I cried, unable to move.
"They broke the law, they committed a crime. You are being irrational" he looked into my eyes.
I knew they were criminals, but more importantly, they were my friends, two girls doomed from the moment they were born. If anyone deserved to live, it was these two.
"They don't deserve this, please!" The burgundy tears fell from my cheeks onto my white blouse, forever testifying my misery.
"'There's nothing I can do," he shrugged and turned towards the performance.
"Coward."
He did not react. The stage fell silent, all the actors retreating, pushing the two vampiresses forward, holding onto each other till their last breath. I do not know what their last words were, it belonged only to their ears.
The dark curtain began to draw . Claudia looked up for the last time, meeting my gaze and smiling. "I'm so sorry, Claudia," I sniffled, not accepting what was about to happen. "It's okay," I heard in my head, her voice rough but sweet. "'s not your fault." I choked on a sob. She was like Joan of Arc, ready to die, knowing she was right, knowing they had misjudged her, yet she did not give up on her ethics, kind till the end. She stopped smiling and glared at the whole room. "Follow the bouncing ball!" she mocked them, gently embracing Madeleine.
When the sun's rays hit them, Claudia shielded Madeleine with her body, but the newborn vampire did not know daylight, did not know the pain of a sunburn, because Claudia loved her, she never let her suffer like Louis and Lestat had let her. With a shriek, she fell to her knees, the ash from her body swirling through the air. Claudia's singing led Madeleine out of this world, and then herself. 
I've never felt such pain. As if the whole world ended, the lights went out, the music stopped. As if my heart had turned to stone, fallen out of my body, shattered into a million pieces. But the world didn't end, only their lives. The lights didn't go out, only their eyes, the music didn't stop, only their screams. They turned to dust, the dust we'll all turn to one day, human or not.  
I dropped on my hands and knees, nothing holding me down, but I stayed there anyway. My choked cries, muffled by the vampires watching, turned to wheezes and  wheezes turned to screams. I had never screamed that loud before, not on stage, not as a human, never. It was so loud my eardrums were bursting, I could feel my own blood on my tongue and my vision darkened. I heard the cracking of glass, the clattering of shards as they scattered across the floor, all the glass in the hall shattered. That was the power of  vampires. I hope Claudia saw it somewhere, and I hope I made everyone in the hall deaf. The last thing they would hear would be a cry of pain, haunting their conscience.
The people fell silent, waited, and then began clapping. They applauded death, they applauded violence, they applauded Armand's writing.  How humorous. He frowned at me. 
"Are you all right?" He asked. 
No, I wasn't all right. I wanted to gouge out his doe eyes, break every bone in his body, make him suffer, but I still cared about him. 
"How can you even ask?!" I growled at him, waving my hand at him. My fingernails left scars, sure, they would heal, but my words won't. "I hate you! You should have stayed a slave, not ruining people's lives!" I didn't mean that, did I? I don't know. I do know that Armand took it seriously. 
"That's enough." He grabbed my hand and then I didn't feel a thing. He shut me down, just like in the restaurant.
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“Thats how it happened mister Molloy” I sat in a cafe with the interviewer.
“And tell me, how did you know he directed the play?” he asked, recording my voice again.
"In the café. He stood up and headed for another drink, but ended up at the door, I think. I found it odd, so I followed him. Followed his gaze as Santiago entered." I glanced down at my hands, mindlessly fiddling with Claudia's green necklace.
"They took my friends by force and covered their heads with sacks. They were shouting, I was shouting too. I demanded an explanation from Armand, to stop the madness. Instead, he embraced me, pulled me close, and told me to stop fighting. That he was saving us, saving himself. I asked...and I remember it like it was yesterday:'So you've chosen...you've chosen to suffer again?' and he said, 'Yes'. He said he wrote a play that would make everything right again."
“He didn't lie to you about the play? He never told Luis, you know?” Molloy asked
"Honestly, I don't know. I think he always saw himself as my brother, he knew that I could not leave to live on my own. That I would stay by his side. That I would always forgive him" I smiled a little
“Did you?” he smirked
“No, not this time. I do think he can be redeemed, but never forgiven, not by me.” I looked into Molloy’s eyes. “So, if you see him again, tell him to find me, it's been 70 years and we have stuff to discuss”  
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