#hollywood au . performer au

[qoppybirdie]

kaz the masquerading dance hall floozy

[laundrybiscuits]

Eddie’s doing some dumb trick with a couple of wooden spoons, clever hands making them move through the air in improbable ways, and Steve’s about to bite his whisk in half. 

He’d thought for sure that Eddie would be going home the first week; Edward Munson, 29, bartender/musician from Brighton with mismatched tattoos and wild hair, seemed like exactly the kind of pretentious asshole who would flame out early with some ill-advised hipster experimentation. If Steve (28, social worker from Indiana, USA) had been a complete asshole, he’d have said that Eddie didn’t have the fundamentals. That he was all sizzle, no steak. 

It’s a good thing Steve’s not a complete asshole, because Eddie’s been blowing the technicals out of the water so consistently it’s actually pretty fucking embarrassing. His signatures and showstoppers are making a very respectable showing too, except for the time he tried to incorporate some fresh pandan extract and fucked up the liquid ratio, leaving him with a dripping mess that Mary’d declined to even try. 

Afterwards, Steve had seen him leaning against a tree and struggling to light a cigarette. Steve went over for no particular reason, flicking on his lighter and holding it out like a peace offering. Eddie looked at him warily, but bent over the offered flame. 

“Can’t believe I made it through this one,” Eddie said after a moment, white smoke curling out of his mouth.

“Yeah, I feel like that every week.” Steve leaned against the tree next to Eddie. It was a big tree, the kind that’s probably been growing in this field since before England was even England. 

“Nah, but—c’mon, you know what I mean.”

“You had some bad luck with your showstopper. Happens to the best of us, man. Your signature hand pies looked sick as hell.” Steve’s own hand pies had turned out pretty well, so he was feeling generous. It had only been the third week; plenty of time for Steve to snag Star Baker, though even by that point, Steve had been getting the creeping feeling that he was being a little too American about the whole thing. Everyone else seemed to think competitiveness was some kind of deadly sin. It was—actually kind of nice, to get the same kind of nerves he’d always gotten before high school basketball games, but know that he wasn’t really fighting against anyone except himself in the tent.

Anyway, the very next week, Eddie had done some kind of kickass gothic castle with a shiny chocolate dragon and gotten Star Baker for the second time. Steve had clapped him on the back, appropriately manly. Eddie had pulled Steve into a real hug, arms tight around Steve’s shoulders and his whole lean body pressed up close and warm. It had only lasted a moment, and then Eddie had bounded over to Mel and Sue, both of whom he’s been thoroughly charming since the get-go. 

Steve thinks that when this season—or, uh, series—airs, no matter where Eddie places, the entire country is going to be just as charmed. Eddie’s going to get whatever kind of cookbook deal or streaming show he wants. Sponsors will take one look at that handsome face and charismatic grin, and a whole world of possibilities is going to open up for Eddie. 

Steve’s not in it for any of that, of course. He’s here kind of by accident, because Robin pushed him to apply, and it’s a goddamn miracle he’s been holding his own. Hell, it’s a miracle he’s in this country at all. When Robin had started looking at the Cambridge MPhil program in linguistics, she’d said wouldn’t it be great if and he’d snorted, yeah right, like I could ever get whatever job I’d need to move to another freaking country, but then—well. Things had happened the way they’d happened, and now Robin’s almost finished with her degree and Steve is taking time off from the London charity he works at in order to be on Bake Off. 

He’s told all this to the cameras, plus the stuff about how baking started as a way for him to connect with the kids he used to babysit in Indiana, blah blah blah. He thinks it’s probably too boring for them to air, but he gets that they have to try to get a story anyway. 

Eddie Munson, on the other hand, is probably going to be featured in all the series promos. Steve is rabidly curious about what Eddie’s story is, but he hasn’t worked up the nerve to just ask. It should be the easiest thing in the world. They’ve got kind of a camaraderie going, the two of them; a bit of a bromance, as Mel’s put it more than once. 

It’s true they get along pretty well, and the cameras have been picking up on it: on the way Eddie’ll wander over to Steve’s bench like a stray cat whenever they get some downtime, how they wind up horsing around sometimes, working off leftover adrenaline from the frantic rush of caramelization or whatever. There’s the time Eddie had hopped up on a stool to deliver some kind of speech from Macbeth, of all things, and overbalanced right onto Steve, who had barely managed to keep them both from careening into a stand mixer. Sue had patted Eddie on the shoulder and said, “Well, boys, that’ll be going in the episode for sure.”

They both get along with the other contestants just fine, of course, but they’re two guys of about the same age with no wife and kids waiting at home. It’s only natural that they’re gravitating together, becoming something like friends, Steve figures. It’s pretty great that he’s getting at least one real friend out of this whole thing.

It would be even greater if Steve could stop thinking about Eddie’s hands in decidedly non-friendly ways. With all the paperwork he’s signed, he can’t even complain to Robin about how Eddie looks with his sleeves pushed up to show off the tattoos on his forearms, kneading dough and grunting a little under his breath with effort. Steve had almost forgotten to pre-heat his oven that day. 

Two benches away, Eddie fumbles the spoons he’s been juggling with a clatter, and he bursts out laughing, glancing over at Steve like Steve’s in on the joke. Steve grins back, heart twanging painfully in his chest, and thinks: well, fuck. Guess this is happening.

[cryscendo]

kurt hummel in every performance

3x09 - Extraordinary Merry Christmas

Let It Snow - Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel

“Hello! Well, I guess we're all in the spirit of the season by now. Let me apologize for not introducing myself sooner. I'm Kurt Hummel, one of your hosts this evening. And this is my, um… best friend and holiday roommate, Blaine Anderson.”

[asexualandalwaysshipping]

Will Graham would’ve made a helluva method actor

[meowmeowriley]

Ghoap Actor AU but 'Ghost' is the stage name used by a a mysterious man who takes "faceless" rolls. Rolls that require pounds of makeup, tons of prosthetics, huge armor suits and feats of puppeteering. No one knows what he looks like, or his real name, and he likes it that way.

Sorry, it got kinda long lol, ficlet after the cut.

Johnny is a new face but damn is he winning hearts quickly. He loves fantasy and sci-fy rolls, and for him getting cast as the heart throb muscle-bound hero is as easy as smiling. A smile which sweeps any and all off their feet, straightness be damned.

Working next to The Ghost is as much a dream come true as it is fucking terrifying. His list of rolls is as long as Johnny is tall, the man is a legend.

Said legend stalks into the catering tent in full makeup, extras scattering because the man is honestly pretty intimidating. Ridges and bumps, red skin and horns, all work to completely dehumanize his features and frighten away any potential lunch buddies. After grabbing his food he stalks back out wordlessly.

They hadn't shot any scenes together yet, but the schedule called for the two of them to be working together nearly every hour of the next week, and John was determined to make a good impression. He grabbed his own food and swiped some fancy wrapped chocolates, perhaps to share and make friends, and scampered out after Ghost.

The man was seated alone, at a table under a tree. He'd popped his fake fangs out and sat them on his tray, and was digging into his sandwich. Red hands tipped in wicked red claws expertly avoided spearing and shredding his food.

Johnny plopped down across from him.

"Cannae be comfortable, wearin' all 'o that all day." Best to get the whole 'being Scottish' thing out if the way immediately, he often had to hid his accent for rolls and this was no exception. Opening his mouth and speaking naturally always garnered a huge reaction, generally glee, from his co-stars. Though, if Ghost was surprised by it, he made no comment.

"Been doin' it for years, 'm used to it." John found himself the one surprised, he hadn't expected the man's voice to be so lovely. Nor had he expected the man to be a fuckin' brit. Clearly he'd also been masking his accent. Shame, Hollywood always loved an evil Brit.

Delighted by this new discovery, Johnny launched into introducing himself, gushing about the rolls he'd seen Ghost in and how he'd loved his performances. Ghost didn't respond much, but slitted pupils with gold and red irises never left him, and even through the makeup a small smile played at the corner of his bright red lips.

Ghost didn't participate much, throwing out a hum or a nod, an occasional quip, but Johnny quickly realized the man was simply quiet, as every time he stopped he'd receive a few words, a gentle nudge to keep going. All was well until Johnny finished his meal and started in on his chocolates.

He'd held one out to Ghost, who took it, and wordlessly sat it on his tray, mirth dancing in his eyes, amplified to a mildly animalistic predatory level by his contacts.

Johnny had rolled with it, assuming the man was just happy about the sweet, and popped his own in his mouth. Only to spit it back out immediately after crunching down.

"Ach, that is VILE, the fuck is wrong with this chocolate?" Johnny stuffed his fingers into his mouth, attempting to scrape the bits that had secured themselves in and between his teeth.

A deep rumbling belly laugh enveloped him, the sound coated his body, every last inch of him, and locked it into place. Fingers still stuffed into his mouth and crouched over like a golem, Johnny watched wide eyed as Ghost leaned back, shoulders heaving and a clawed hand over his brow as he laughed uncontrollably at John's plight. "It's not chocolate," the man gasped out, "it's bloody hand soap!"

Johnny groaned and spat out his fingers as well as a few bubbles. He'd grabbed them from beside the hand washing station, but hadn't thought anything of it. Why the fuck were they wrapped all fancy like?!

Ghost stood, and clapped a hand on Johnny's shoulder. "I look forward to working with you, Johnny." He sighed between fits of laughter. He grinned and popped his fangs back in. "Keep up, Soap."

Johnny turned and watched Ghost stalk back into the catering tent to return his tray, silicone tail swishing side to side, really lending itself to Ghost's jolly demeanor as he left, still chuckling. Johnny felt his face flush, knew he must be as red as Ghost's makeup, in embarrassment, knowing he was gonna be stuck with a ridiculous nickname, but also from realizing he was still bent over and staring at Ghost's ass. Was his ass really that nice, or were those heels, designed to look like hooves, just working absolute wonders?

Thus began Soap's insane crush on a man he knew nothing about, not even how he looked.

[lisired]

supermodel

pairing: photographer!haechan x (f) model!reader

genre/warnings: smut, angst, hollywood!au, photographer!haechan, model!reader, descriptions of vomiting, fluff, unsolicited comments, mentions of alcohol use (not while expectant)

summary: Five years ago, you left your hometown and ex to recreate your identity in California. Now, you're a staple of the fashion industry and on the front cover of magazines everywhere. Your hard work has paid off, but when you realize that you might be pregnant, you have to decide whether you want to be a full-time model or a full-time mother.

word count: 23k

a/n: at last, here she is! thank you for your patience, i know it was a long wait. this is a sequel to love jones. as always, feedback is appreciated!

Smiling from ear to ear, the giddy butterflies in the pit of your stomach just wouldn’t leave. Given that they’d been there for five years, it was safe to assume they never would. 

Five years of romance. To celebrate, you and your boyfriend decided on cooking your own dinner at home. Your boyfriend was not an attentive cook (a couple of distracted incidents and he was strictly prohibited and sidelined from food preparation duties) which made the night both fun and a nightmare. 

When Haechan asked you for dinner suggestions, you were very adamant that you wanted lobster. Which surprised him, given that you’d been to a handful of seafood restaurants and you never expressed a taste for lobster, though he reckoned you wanted to be fancy for your five-year anniversary. 

“Baby,” you whined. “Is it just me, or is it really hot in here?”

“It’s hot because you’re here,” Haechan flirted in a heartbeat. Some things never changed. 

You rolled your eyes, whining, “Seriously. Aren’t you about to burn up? I feel like I’m going to die.”

“Only thing I feel like I might die of is hypothermia. If anything, it’s kinda cold to me, baby.”

You frowned, finding that questionably odd. You had already taken off his insulating leather jacket, left in nothing but a tank top, and you didn’t want to remove any other layers in fear of getting lobster juice all over yourself. Maybe it was a metabolism thing. 

Haechan pointed to your wine glass with his own. “Aren’t you going to drink that? You always want wine.”

Glancing down, you noticed your filled wine glass that you had hardly touched. Even when you were out celebrating with your agent and a couple of other staff, you declined the offer for wine. Your agent was shocked. She knew you loved to get wine drunk. “Not really in the mood.”

If your boyfriend thought that something was out of the ordinary, he didn’t say anything. 

After a while, you started to forget about your suspicious behavior. Time quickly lost its meaning as you chatted with Haechan, running your mouths like the two people who never shut up that you were. To this day you still perfectly matched each other’s energy. Five years down, a lifetime left to go. 

You were twenty-six now, Haechan twenty-eight. Though your grandmother liked to joke that you were catching up to her, sometimes you didn’t feel like you were pushing thirty. Notably when you were with Haechan. His ability to make you feel like a teenager in love needed to be studied.  

In those five years, not only had you developed your relationship with the love of your life, but you also made your name known within the industry. Of course, your success wasn’t without a couple of setbacks and near career-ending allegations, but you somehow came out on top in the end. 

Haechan also had a lucrative career. From being hired to take pictures of lowkey performers on tour to becoming a chief photographer with his own studio that worked with wealthy media moguls, he had obviously come extremely far. And he was only getting more popular amongst affluent patrons. 

All in the span of five years. You never would have guessed. Five years ago, you lived in a condo downtown. Now, you lived in a comfortable house with Haechan and you couldn’t be happier. 

Out of nowhere, you started to feel as if you were going to be sick. You stood from the table, muttering “bathroom” when your boyfriend tossed you a baffled look. 

Haechan let you be. He figured you just had to pee. You were doing that more often for whatever reason. 

Though you tried to be indifferent about the sudden involuntary motions in your stomach, you were quick to make a beeline for the bathroom in fear of vomiting all over the floor. 

You headed straight for the toilet and kneeled on the floor, bracing your hands on the seat while you retched and dry-heaved into the bowl. Your mouth felt almost painfully dry afterwards and all you could taste was the scorching feeling of bile. 

This was absolutely ridiculous and you didn’t understand what was happening to you. Though you weren’t particularly a fan of lobster, you could usually handle seafood. Maybe having Haechan help you cook wasn’t the smartest idea. 

Speak of the devil, he called from the other side of the door, “Baby, you good in there?”

“Uh, no,” you muttered just loud enough for his ears. 

Haechan’s voice sounded alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

Wincing at the sight of greenish-yellow vomit, you flushed the toilet and stood to vigorously wash your hands. “I kinda threw up.”

“What? Was it something you ate? Baby, I love your cooking, but I’ve been trying to tell you that all that butter is not good for your stomach.”

“I really don’t think that’s the problem,” you droned irritably. 

Haechan joked, “What - are you pregnant or something?”

Something about those words made you freeze right in the middle of drying your hands with paper towels. Pregnant, you realized. It was all coming back to you. Haechan fucked you raw not too long ago. And you couldn’t remember the last time you had a period. 

Silence was never a good thing for either of you and the worry was evident in Haechan’s voice. “Baby, you’re not actually pregnant. Right?”

Your eyes were wide as you exclaimed, “I don’t know!”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” you said shakily. 

The door opened, Haechan revealing himself. He was quick to notice the panic on your face and grabbed your hand in his, crooning, “Baby, talk to me. What’s going on?”

You inhaled a deep breath through your nose, exhaling one large puff of air. “Okay, remember I had my IUD removed?”

Haechan’s brows furrowed. “Uh huh.”

“And then I went off the pill because they were giving me migraines,” you added frantically. 

“Yeah, so we started using condoms.”

“Right,” you said, nodding your head. “But that one time we ran out…”

Haechan continued, “And you begged me to fuck you anyway?”

“That’s not the point,” you hissed. “The point is we had sex without a condom, I don’t remember having a period, and now I’m puking everywhere.”

“Well, if two plus two equals four…,” Haechan trailed. 

You snapped, “Can you be serious for once?”

Haechan grabbed your wrist, kissing the back of your hand tenderly to console you. “I am being serious. I think we should buy a pregnancy test or ten. Just to be certain.”

You reminded, “It’s late. All the pharmacies are closed.”

“Then, we go first thing tomorrow,” was Haechan’s solution. 

His touches were enough to ease your mind for a little. You nodded in acceptance, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes. This was a frightening moment and you were glad that you weren’t alone. 

As soon as the following day, you and Haechan were on your way to a local pharmacy on his motorbike. His red motorbike, might you add. Though the sleek black one was directly involved in a number of good memories, one too many stunts had maimed her. You surprised him with another one for his birthday last year and he fell in love without a second thought. 

The pharmacy was busy at this hour. Though Haechan’s suggestion of getting ten pregnancy tests was somewhat dramatic, you did make sure to grab a couple packs of two. It was better to be safe than sorry, after all. 

You rushed to the bathroom the second you were back home, telling Haechan you would be back after a moment to tell him the results. You were clear that he waited outside the door. Your brain amassed hectic thought after hectic thought and it was driving you crazy. 

Over the next couple of minutes, you sat antsily on the toilet lid and waited. According to the instructions on the box, your fate would be decided in as little as a few minutes. If you waited too long, your results could display inaccuracies. 

You were just so scared. If you were pregnant, that could change everything. Your nerves were worked and you could feel the stress in your shoulders as much as you tried to feign a semblance of order. 

When the three minutes were up, you braced yourself with one big breath and found the courage to check the lines. 

You sucked in a breath. Not a single one was negative. 

“Oh my god,” you gasped. 

“What’s wrong?” Haechan asked frantically, leaning against the door. This was just as nerve-racking for him as it was for you. 

“They’re positive,” you exclaimed. “All four of them!”

That was Haechan’s cue to open the door, immediately grabbing a hold of you. You looked like your weight would drop to the floor any second now. “Okay, babe. Breathe,” he whispered. 

You braced your hands on the counter. “I can’t. This is too much.”

“Sit,” Haechan said, holding you steadily in his arms. Like hell he would let you go in a time like this. 

You sat on the fluffy toilet lid again, your head spinning. Nothing could describe how light your limbs felt in that moment. Or your head. 

“There’s a one percent chance they’re wrong,” Haechan told you in reminder. 

You shook your head. “Really? You think all four of them are wrong?”

Haechan took your tone in stride. “That’s not what I said. What I meant is I think you should contact your doctor. We can’t be too sure.”

Well, you couldn’t argue with that logic. It was the obvious thing to do. The second you calmed down enough to speak without shaky breath you called your health care provider and scheduled an appointment with your physician. 

In a couple of days, you met with your primary physician, Haechan insisting that he wanted to be there. You made no argument. This baby was his just as much as it was yours and he made it a point to remind you that he wanted to be a part of every second. 

For half an hour, the nurse's kind words in between constant beeps as she asked you for medical information was all you heard while your thoughts waged war. Even the faint chatter from the small TV mounted in the corner of the room didn’t register. 

Footsteps jolted you out of your thoughts for a moment and you were a little more at ease when your doctor finally entered the patient room. There was a fleeting, kind greeting and she recounted your concerns as you’d briefed them over the phone just to be sure she was correct. 

It was the most tense moment of your life. Had you not been holding Haechan’s fingers with one hand and bracing the chair with the other, you would have been chewing your nails. 

After a couple of non-invasive tests, a suspenseful few minutes, and a transvaginal prenatal ultrasound, it was concluded that you were seven weeks pregnant. The whole room was reeling. Your doctor told you that she would have to run a few scans to ensure that you weren’t exposed to a high-risk pregnancy, but you could decide within two weeks if you wanted to terminate through medication. 

Not only were you seven weeks pregnant, but seven weeks pregnant with dizygotic twins. Non-identical, your doctor explained. If you preferred, you could come back in three weeks to determine the sex. 

“Twins,” you rasped. “Two babies. Wow.”

Sitting in your car, you gripped the seatbelt with your life. Haechan insisted that you take your car instead of his bike considering that you were more than likely pregnant, and since he didn’t know the risks associated with pregnant mothers on a motorbike, he decided it was better to play it safe. 

Though your doctor revealed that minimum travel within the first few months of your pregnancy was generally not a threat unless you were going a lengthy distance. Much to your boyfriend’s happiness.  

It was quiet while you two sat in the parking lot, save for the Mark Lee song playing faintly on the radio. He was grammy-nominated now. 

There was a long pause before you could speak. Haechan was the same, looking paler than usual. You almost couldn’t breathe. Your head was still stuck in that neutral-toned hospital room and the scent of antiseptics still wafted through your nostrils. 

The whole parking lot was upside down as you fretted, “I’m pregnant. Oh my god. Wow. I’m pregnant!”

“Hey,” Haechan started, reaching over the center console and grabbing your hands in his. There was another pause before he continued speaking. “We’re pregnant.”

Your eyes flickered. Then, you burst into laughter. That was the last thing you expected him to say. 

Haechan was grinning, glad that he could make you laugh even if it was just for a moment. Your doctor was clear that stress was very harmful for the kids. “I’m serious!”

“Okay,” you replied. Though you were still giggling. “We’re pregnant.”

“You better know.”

You sighed, leaning against the door window. The ultrasound displayed not one, but two tiny embryos currently sharing your uterus. And they were only growing. 

Handing the ultrasound to Haechan, you let it all sink in, starting, “When I was twenty-one, pregnancy was the last thing on my agenda. Jae wanted to slow down, but I didn’t want to stop. I was just getting started. I mean, I still am, it’s only been five years.”

Haechan flinched at the mention of your ex. It was rare that you brought him up in conversation. For good reason. “And you’ve still accomplished so much.”

“Yeah, but I wanna accomplish more. If I have a baby, I have to take a break from the grind to be a mother. And god forbid I let somebody else raise my kids,” you grumbled. 

Haechan quickly saw what the problem was. “Okay, baby, stop. This isn’t the end. You’re pregnant, but that doesn’t mean you become my housewife and die. I wouldn’t ever try to put the brakes on you.”

“I know, but…”

“Listen,” he said. “We can always make more babies another time. Your life isn’t over.”

You huffed, “I have, like, four years before that ship sails and it’s in god’s hands.”

“Anything could happen in four years.”

You heaved another breath. “True,” you replied. Even two years from now you could decide that you wanted to settle down. 

It just felt like there was so much at stake. You were a model, for fuck’s sake. Very much a celebrity. Not only did you love your job and having two babies mean you would have less time to devote to yourself, but everyone would be watching them the same way they watched you. 

When you went out, there was guaranteed to be a camera not far behind. You couldn’t even get lunch with a friend without being borderline stalked wherever you went. Masks and disguises barely helped.

Anybody that was a friend of yours was a friend of the media. Your whole life was on the internet and there was always a magnifying glass being held close to your face. Every second of your life you were being examined and judged by people who didn’t even know you. Expectations were a constant weight on your shoulders. 

“If I have these kids, I don’t want them to grow up in the eyes of the media,” you started sternly. “I subject myself to judgment and scrutiny every day I step out of my house. Babies don’t deserve that.”

Haechan bobbed his head in agreement. “Then, I watch them. And if I’m busy, then we get a babysitter.”

You huffed, “And trust a stranger with our child?”

The look of horror on Haechan’s face immediately declined that offer. “I’ve got family here. We can pay my cousin or something. Look, baby, we’ll figure this out. Together.”

You squeezed his hand, stifling tears. There was so much weight on your heart. It was almost suffocating until you remembered that you weren’t alone.

For the next couple of weeks, you mulled the decision over. You didn’t tell anyone that you were pregnant - not even your grandmother or Haechan’s parents, who referred to themselves as your in-laws, even though you and Haechan weren’t married. 

That thought tickled something in your brain. Marriage, you hypothesized. And a family. Deep down inside, it was something you always wanted, but you never knew when. You always figured the day would come where you would just know. 

That day had come. 

It isn’t the end of the world, you consoled, having had time to be reasonable with yourself. You were far enough in your career where it wouldn’t weaken your income if you took some time to be lowkey. Haechan, the brainiac that he was, even suggested you endorse baby products. 

Everything felt so earth-shattering to you that you’d been confused into thinking weighing your options meant you only had one choice. Your mind was quick to wander, wondering if that was a symptom of carrying a developing baby. 

You breathed easier when it finally hit you that you didn’t have to choose between the career you loved and starting a family with the man you loved. Because you wanted both and you would have both. Even if it was in moderate amounts. 

At ten weeks, you were back in the doctor’s office to determine the sex of your babies. Haechan was hoping for boys while you were hoping for girls. Imagine your shock when Doctor Stakes congratulated you on carrying a boy and girl. 

By the end of the first trimester, you decided that you would be keeping the babies and your career. Haechan was both over the moon and a little anxious knowing that he would be a first-time father. Neither of you knew what you were doing and that made it as scary as it was exciting. 

Still, nobody knew. Outside of your symptoms, it wasn’t too obvious. Your baby bump wasn’t very big yet. 

“No smoking, no drinking, no hot tubs or saunas, moderate caffeine intake, no raw seafood,” you grumbled, recalling Doctor Stakes’ very detailed explanations of what was and was not healthy during your pregnancy. 

“Well,” Haechan started, plopping down on your shared mattress. “She did say we could still have lots of sex.”

You immediately rolled your eyes. “I believe her exact words were sex will not hurt our babies as long as my pregnancy is without health complications and I don’t start to experience bleeding, high blood pressure, and premature contractions.”

Haechan gently grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap, retorting, “You look fine to me. How do you feel?”

“Good,” you sighed, getting comfortable on his thighs. “Different, but not bad different. Good.”

Haechan leaned into your ear and purred, “Which translates into good for lots of sex.”

You playfully hit him, pretending to be irritated. You knew he was only kidding. Kind of. 

Doctor Stakes was straightforward but thorough in her explanations, walking you through the route of pregnancy with more than a couple of recommendations prioritizing the best potential health of you and your unborn babies. She said that sex was perfectly fine during the first five through six months. Something about your babies being cushioned by your abdomen and amniotic sac fluid.

Whatever the hell that is, you remembered thinking. She also suggested you enroll in a parenting class just so that you knew what to expect. It was not rare for first-time parents to take them and they were apparently super helpful. 

It seemed strict, but you knew it was best for your children’s development, especially in the early stages. Though you would miss the freedom of your old life. “I kind of miss alcohol just because I can’t have it.”

“I’m not giving you any,” Haechan said, voice stern. 

You snorted. “I wasn’t asking. I’m not an idiot. It’s just… this is my life now. It’s gonna be hard.”

Kissing your cheek tenderly, Haechan replied, “Well, if you can’t drink, I won’t drink either.”

That surprised you and you wanted to know if he was joking or not. “Seriously?”

“Duh,” Haechan said. “Like I said, we’re pregnant. Anything you can’t have, shit, I can’t have it either. I guess we’re both abstaining.”

“You don’t have to,” you whispered, though you liked the idea of him doing it anyway. It made your heart flutter. 

Haechan shrugged. “Yeah, but I would feel like a dickhead for enjoying things that I know you can’t have right in your face. Besides, my liver is probably screaming ‘thank god.’”

You snickered, bringing your lips to his. That turned you on. You couldn’t even explain it. There was just something so hot and attractive about the words leaving his mouth and you decided you wanted him. 

Letting your eyes flutter closed, you quickly tangled yourself in thoughts of him and him only; like a stimulant that only got more lethal with every hit. Sometimes it did feel that way. Like pleasure of this magnitude was too mind-numbing to be free. 

Innocent touches became gestures of desperation. Haechan kissed you like he couldn’t get enough, hands zipping to your tender breasts while you looped your arms around his neck. He somehow only got better at kissing. You didn’t even know how that could happen. 

Almost like you brought out the best in each other. 

“Fuck,” you groaned, eyes snapping open. 

Haechan instantly noticed and was quick to halt his actions in case he was causing you discomfort. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s just my boobs… They’re a little sore.”

Haechan chirped, “Nothing I can’t take care of.”

You giggled when he carefully lowered your weight onto the bed, lifting your shirt above your head and quickly getting rid of your bra. A moan left you when he caught a nipple in his mouth, gently kneading the other one in his hand. 

There was something so addictive about the feeling of your boyfriend’s warm mouth on your body. You couldn’t help but exhale and moan, just comforted by the fact that he was supplying you warmth. His hands wandered, too, always soft and tender. Whatever moisturizer he was using was doing god’s work. 

“Babe,” you sighed out. Both your mind and body were relaxed and that was exactly what you needed, all things considered. 

His tongue passed over your erect nipples, feeling them harden at his touch. Your boyfriend’s goal was to make you feel completely worshiped and he was doing a great job, for lack of a better word. Given that you were the one responsible for carrying and birthing two babies, he concluded that god could only be a woman. 

But you were getting way too worked up and it was driving you to the edge. “Baby,” you called. “I want more.”

There was an erotic wet sound when Haechan pulled away from your boobs. “Are you sure? I was just kidding about the whole sex thing earlier.”

“No you weren’t.”

“No I wasn’t.”

You snorted. Classic Haechan. 

Haechan quickly sobered again, whispering, “But I still wanna make sure this is what you want.”

You appreciated his concern, but the longer you waited, the quicker the heat pulsed between your legs and you couldn’t shake it anymore. “Haechan, I literally could not be more sure when I say I need your cock inside me.”

King of playing it cool that he was, Haechan pretended that those words weren’t like throwing gasoline on a field of already blazing thoughts. At least until he got inside you. Then, he had no thoughts. Brain empty. And he couldn’t help but bare his soul to you. 

Pussy made him talk. There was absolutely nothing that he could hide when he was balls deep inside you. 

Haechan shifted between your thighs, thanking god that you decided to wear a skirt today. His patience was wearing thin by the second and knowing how much you wanted him only strengthened his need. 

You could only feel your heart thumping and his body heat wafting over you. Other things seemed so much smaller and irrelevant than they were. 

Your panties came off with a yank and your glistening folds had Haechan’s undivided attention. “Shit, you’re so wet. I didn’t even do anything,” he said marvelously. 

“Shut up,” you huffed, though it wasn’t sincere. Little things about him being committed to being a father turned you on. He didn’t understand how scary it was to be alone. 

Haechan chuckled. “As you wish.”

You knew it wouldn’t be too long before he opened his mouth again and you weren’t complaining. 

Overcome with want and the need to do something, you lifted yourself up and crawled towards Haechan to help him undress his pants down his legs. Haechan let you do as much, but the second his bare cock was out, he was gently pushing you back down.

You pouted, lips tucking out. “I wanna do something.”

When you were comfortably on your back, Haechan started to rub his cock. “No,” he said, borderline teasing. “You can lay here and let me take care of you.”

His cock had your attention, your eyes fixed to how hard he was. “Okay.”

Haechan parted your legs again, gentler than typical. “On the plus side,” he started, holding his dick between your thighs. “I can’t get you pregnant if you’re already pregnant.”

You quipped, “That’s actually not impossible. Something called superfetation. I heard about it a couple of months ago after searching on Google for too long. It’s super rare, though. Don’t worry.”

“I am about to superfetate this pussy,” Haechan groaned, obnoxious.

“You’re turning me off.”

Haechan laughed. 

After a moment of coating himself in your wetness and hearing your soft moans, Haechan decided he couldn’t take it anymore and slowly penetrated you. His jaw unhitched, more than a couple of sounds escaping him. 

You weren’t any better. He just made you feel so full. You liked when he made it seem like it was only the two of you and you existed for each other. 

Haechan was painfully hard inside you and desperate to move, though not before he said without room for argument, “Tell me if you want me to stop or if it hurts.”

You simply just nodded. There was nothing you wouldn’t do if it got him to fuck your brains out. 

Then, Haechan started to move. His hands were on your hips, serving as an anchor so that he wouldn’t lose himself completely as he drowned in your wet pussy. In a similar manner, you braced your hands on his shoulders, holding onto him for dear life. 

You were gazing at Haechan with one fatal combination of love and lust. They couldn’t be separated. Not after all the things that had been done and all the words that had been said. All you knew was that you had bared your body to him in the same way you’d bared your heart. 

“Baby, don’t stop,” you sighed, eyes fluttering shut. “Don’t stop.” There was a pressure building inside the walls wedged between your legs and it only came out when he was steadily rocking his hips into you. 

The whole room suddenly seemed a thousand degrees hotter and Haechan couldn’t breathe, exhaling loudly with labored breath. He couldn’t take that your pussy was so warm and tight, grumbling, “Fuck,” in between moans, smacking his hips into yours uncontrollably. 

For a half second, you made eye contact with Haechan, just before he was sucking at the pulse on your collarbone and you couldn’t help but cry out his name, his chest creating friction against yours just enough to not be uncomfortable. 

Haechan willed himself not to tighten his grip at the arc of your hips for the sheer reason that he didn’t want to hurt you. Not only did he not want to hurt you any more than you asked for, but the reminder that his children were growing inside your belly made him treat you like you were fragile. 

He wanted to ask you to marry him, but he was terrified that it was way too soon. This pregnancy wasn’t even planned. You would probably have a heart attack if he asked for your hand in marriage. He was no stranger to being chided for moving too quickly, though it was just his nature. 

Little did he know, you loved that about him. He could come off too strong sometimes, but beneath his fast jumps to get started was a zealous boy with big hopes for the future. 

“I love you,” Haechan whispered, lips brushing against your skin. 

Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his again. “I love you. You’re my everything.”

“You’re my everything and then some,” Haechan flirted. 

“You’re my everything and everything in between.”

Haechan started, “You’re my everything and…”

All it took was a kiss to the lips to effectively shut him up, grabbing his head and steering him closer to you. Like you weren’t already skin to skin. You sucked his tongue in your mouth, moaning at how his cock hit your sweet spot. 

You were just so consumed by him - entirely. Though you knew that there was no closer the two of you could be, you’d be damned if you didn’t try. 

Haechan’s hands wandered up to grab a handful of your breasts, gently squeezing the soft skin in his palms. He couldn’t get enough of the way you panted and sighed at his touch. There was no need for oxygen when he had you and he kissed you breathlessly until he thought he was going to die. 

Haechan exhaled with his mouth hanging open, “You cheated.” His lips were perfectly swollen, the sight winning a smile out of you. 

You giggled. 

With how your walls were kneading and gushing around his cock, Haechan knew that he wouldn’t last. His mouth watered at the thought of coming inside you since it had been so long ago. That one time just short of two months ago excluded, obviously. Though he hadn’t meant for it to happen. 

But first and foremost Haechan wanted to get you off and he steered a hand between your legs, thumbing your clit. You squirmed instantly, sensitive. 

Little moans of his name kept escaping from your lips. “Haechan, I’m going to come if you keep doing that,” you warned, though rocked your hips into his to match his pace. The pleasure was different from before and the intimacy was even more intense. 

Haechan chuckled breathlessly, staving off his orgasm for as long as he could. “That’s the point, baby.” 

There was a resoundingly wet squelch as Haechan continued to bulldoze his cock into your cunt, breezing through the air. Your hands flew to your face as you covered yourself, embarrassed, but he pulled them away just as quick. “Don’t hide.”

“Don’t you hear that? I’m embarrassed,” you blurted. 

Haechan shook his head, peering down at you with misty eyes, and growled, “Sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

You were breathless. Haechan silenced you by capturing your lips in one incapacitating kiss and you swore your heart stopped beating for a second.

He made it too easy to forget. Forget the all-consuming worries of eventual childbirth. The threat of kissing everything you’d ever known and wanted goodbye. And the fear of raising a child that might end up making the same mistakes as you. 

No words left your mouth as you parted your lips in a silent scream, trembling with the pressure of orgasm. You were a total disaster - you couldn’t stop moving, shaking and grinding yourself onto him even as your orgasm aggressively passed. 

Your orgasm ripped the soul out of you without leaving anything behind in a merciless act of overkill and you only slacked onto the mattress when it felt completely over. You heaved for breath, almost like you would never breathe again. You had never felt anything so vigorously. Every thought vacated your brain. 

Haechan was obviously not far behind - if the frequent pitched moans you were milking out of him were any indication - and you were borderline begging him to fill you again. This was a different strain of desperation than the kind that got you pregnant. This was more lethal. 

Your walls were pulsing around him and Haechan couldn’t take it, hissing your name when he came with a sharp cry. His hips didn’t still until he rode out his high, both of you moaning in a delighted sync when his cum dripped. 

“Fuck,” Haechan sighed, finally noticing how fast his heart was pounding against his chest. 

You started, “That was…”

“Intense,” Haechan finished. 

You nodded in agreement. Though it was enjoyable nonetheless. 

The two of you just sat there and wallowed in the afterhighs of sex for a bit. You were too exhausted to move and Haechan didn’t want to leave you alone. He spooned you in his arms for a total of fifteen minutes while the two of you chatted incessantly until you decided you finally had mustered enough strength. 

Time was a blur when Haechan helped you to your feet - not that you needed it yet - and led you to the bathroom where he proceeded to run the shower for both of you. After playfully washing each other’s backs, you went back to the bedroom clad in nothing but towels. 

For once, it was comfortably silent when you slipped back into bed. Then, to your surprise, Haechan started to cry. You gasped, “You’re crying!”

Hot tears stung Haechan’s eyes. Few things brought him to literal tears. He was just so over-thrilled to be the father of your babies. “Yeah.”

You cradled his face in your hands, kissing his lips. “We’re making two babies. We’re going to be parents. For the next eighteen years, they’re going to be our most paramount priority.”

Haechan knew that. You weren’t the only one that was going to be taking a step back from the grind, at least until you both grew a little more familiar with the parenting life. His decreased hours were non-negotiable and it helped that he was one of the co-owners. 

Not only was he going to be a father, but he needed to take time to be an even more devoted partner to you. Both of you were responsible for these children and the very last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you were carrying the weight by yourself.

Wiping the tears out of his blurry eyes, Haechan said, “I can’t believe you let a guy like me get you pregnant.”

You furrowed your brows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That I’m not exactly the type of dude people look at and go ‘he’s going to make an incredible father.’”

You liked that Haechan was being vulnerable with you. He started doing it more often ever since he realized that his indifference could drive you away. His feelings were deeper than he tended to lead on. When it came to you, he was an open book. 

“You’re going to make an incredible father. There. I said it,” you whispered. 

Haechan smiled, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. That was all he needed to hear. 

At sixteen weeks, your baby bump still wasn’t protruding even though you were definitely carrying twins. Doctor Stakes reassured you that everybody’s journey was different and your pregnant belly very well might not pop up until the end of the second trimester. 

And since you hadn’t announced that you were pregnant (you were conflicted), you working was still fully expected. Nobody asked questions. You considered yourself pretty damn slick. 

That was, until your agent knocked on your trailer while the crew were breaking. She was a down-to-earth, middle-aged woman named Patricia. 

“Hey,” you greeted, letting her inside. “Something wrong?”

Shutting the trailer door with a thud (this particular company tended to have faulty trailer doors), Mrs. Patricia shook her head gently. “Not particularly. I was curious about something and I wanted to speak with you woman to woman.”

That had your undivided attention. You set down the water bottle you’d been gulping back and prompted, “Yes?”

Mrs. Patricia started, “Excuse me if I’m overstepping, but… are you expecting?”

You blinked. “Is it obvious?”

“It’s in your nose.”

Your hand went up to your nose and you exclaimed, “What’s wrong with my nose?”

She gave you a look that sternly told you to lower your voice and replied levelly, “There is nothing wrong with your nose, but it is swollen.”

You had no idea what she was talking about and it was evident on your face. 

Mrs. Patricia explained, “Fluid retention. I had a swollen nose and hands during my pregnancy with my twenty-year-old, but it went away after my postpartum period.”

“Oh,” you replied quietly. 

“Congratulations, by the way. I think you would benefit from following up on the symptoms of pregnancy, just so that you know what to expect,” she suggested. “Again, I don’t mean to overstep.”

Though your mind was at a billion different places, you forced a smile and said, “No, it’s okay - thank you!”

But the second you came home, you were a different person. 

“Babe,” you called out, setting your keys in the tray near the door. Haechan told you that he would be home by now and you saw his motorbike parked in the garage. “Babe!”

Given the distance, his voice was faint, but you heard a faraway, “I’m coming!”

You stood there and patiently removed your shoes while you waited. There were now a handful of other things weighing on your mind and you didn’t know how to handle it by yourself. 

Haechan zipped downstairs, pleased to see you at the end of a long day. His hair was a beautiful mess at the top of his head and you could only guess he had been playing video games with Jaemin and Mark. 

Not that you were concerned about any of that right now. 

“Hey, baby. How was your day?” Haechan asked, coming up to you to trap you in a bear hug. Like he did everyday. 

But you weren’t at all in the mood for any of it, ignoring his question completely. “Is my nose swollen?”

That obviously wasn’t what Haechan thought you were going to say. “Huh?”

“You heard me.”

Haechan drew back, realizing you were in one of your moods again. Doctor Stakes mentioned that you were prone to mood swings and he would just have to deal with it in the gentlest way he could. “I mean, I didn’t wanna say anything, but it’s a little...”

“Oh my fucking god,” you exclaimed, stepping around him and bolting for the kitchen. 

Haechan was hot on your heels. “Babe, wait up!”

You threw open the snack pantry door, scanning them for your favorite chips, before remembering that you finished the bag last night. “Fuck, I forgot to order from the store!”

The words were right on his tongue, though Haechan knew better than to tell you to calm down. He was no stranger to your temper. His voice was level, calm. “We can always order more.”

Fresh tears dampened your face, burning while they blurred your vision. Reality was a mean little bitch with a hard punch. “Damn the chips! I can’t believe this.”

Haechan assumed it was a model thing. They were strict about your appearance and you always had to look a certain way. It was part of the reason why he never saw your career as an option for himself, though he wasn’t going to snitch about your junk food indulgence. 

Tentatively reaching out for you, Haechan kissed your face and cooed, “Hey, baby, listen to my voice. Your body is going to change. The doc said that’s completely normal. It’s nothing to lose your shit over.”

“It’s everything to lose my shit over!” you wailed. “I’m not mad about my fucking nose - I’m mad because I know nothing about bringing a baby into this world and I’m going to be a shit mother!”

“Don’t you dare say that,” Haechan told you, stern but still tranquil. You wholeheartedly envied it. 

“It’s true,” you huffed, sinking against the refrigerator. “My nose is swollen. I literally didn’t even know that was a thing! If I don’t know minor fucking details, how am I going to know how to parent?”

While you knew your agent had no foul intentions by commenting about your nose and there wasn’t a single mean bone in her body, you wished she would have kept it to herself. You couldn’t stop thinking about how you didn’t have this under control. This baby-making shit was not your strong suit. 

Other than the sex itself, although that was the last thing on your mind right now. 

It was completely unexpected for Haechan’s voice to drop the way it did. You had never seen him so serious. “We can take classes. Doctor Stakes recommended them, you know.”

You grumbled, “Why didn’t Doctor Stakes tell me that I was going to get a new nose?”

“She did, actually. Something about…”

“Fluid retention, I know. My agent told me,” you replied snappily. You were finally calming down, though hardly. Pregnancy came with its fair share of frustrations. Though it was also accompanied by the lack of energy to express them all. 

Haechan helped you off the ground, clearing your face of any tears with his thumb. “Is she the one that commented on your nose?”

You shrugged your shoulders but answered, “Yeah.”

“I think your agent should mind her bitter, decrepit business,” Haechan spat, though his tone was completely noncommittal. 

You snorted. “She’s not bad, Haechan.”

“I don’t care. It’s bad manners.”

You couldn’t argue with that. But it was nothing worth getting a new manager over and if anything you would just talk to her about boundaries. The only reason she was even on set was because you wanted her there. 

“The point is,” Haechan started, grabbing your hands and locking your fingers in his. “Every problem has a fix. I don’t know shit about this, either. You think I’ve been a father before? Must I remind you that you’re the only girl I’ve ever came inside of?”

You folded your arms. “And the only one you ever will.”

Haechan snickered, bobbing his head. You were lightening up and he could breathe a little easier. “Yes. And the only one I ever will.”

You let out a shaky breath. Though you still felt like ripping your hair out, you no longer felt the need to scream. Your lungs had had enough for one night. “Fine.”

“We’ll take classes together. I already managed my hours, so I’ve got time. You should tell the people you work for that you’re pregnant,” Haechan suggested.

You nodded. His constant touches killed your doubts again. Ultimately, they were no match against the love of your life. “How are you so nonchalant about this?”

Haechan shrugged like he had absolutely zero clue. “Old habits die hard, I guess?” He was internally panicking, but excellent at hiding it. Always had been. 

You hummed. Maybe it wasn’t the worst thing ever. 

“And by the way, you’re beautiful. Swollen nose or not,” Haechan said. “I think it’s cute.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Cute?”

“Yeah. Fits your face.” 

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to put up with a hysterical pregnant lady,” you droned. 

Haechan didn’t try to deny it. Instead, he decided to lighten the mood, chirping, “Well, that’s what I get for being silly and not wrapping my willy.”

You forced your lips into a line, fighting a laugh. “That’s so stupid.”

“No glove, no love,” Haechan persisted, eager to get a laugh out of you. He wanted to see your shoulders shake and your nose do that cute thing it always did when you laughed at his jokes.

You playfully exclaimed, “Quit it!”

“You can’t go wrong if you shield your dong.”

That was the last blow your self-restraint could take and you finally burst out laughing like he wanted you to. 

Haechan was sporting a triumphant smile. He was always glad to put a smile on your face. Even (especially) for the most idioticly absurd of reasons. 

Your outburst eventually fizzled out and you thought back on something he said a couple of minutes ago, musing aloud, “Speaking of telling people that I’m pregnant, we haven’t told the clique.”

Haechan nodded. “I haven’t even told my parents. They’re gonna be so mad we waited almost twenty weeks. My mom’s been nagging me about when she can expect grandkids.”

“We should have a party. Get the gang in town and host a gathering at your parents’ house or something,” you proposed. 

Haechan’s brows furrowed. “Like a gender reveal party?”

You winced. “Goodness, no. Just, like, I don’t know. A pregnancy reveal party. But they can guess if they want.”

That wasn’t the best idea. Mark and Ryujin would probably have opposite guesses and flip the table over. Grabbing your wrist to press a kiss to the back of your hand, Haechan said, “Well, you know Mark’s been in Canada for the past two months and Winter is everywhere, but I’ll see what we can do.”

You didn’t want to get your hopes up - nowadays it was rare for all of you to be in town at the same time - but that had you excited. You couldn’t wait to share the good news. “I had another idea, too,” you whispered softly. 

Haechan led you to the living room so that you could sit down and asked, “What’s that?” 

Once you were off your feet, you played coy and confessed, “We should have a photoshoot at your studio when my bump gets big. Just me, you, and the two babies in my belly. A grand reveal to the entire world that I’m officially a mother.”

“Sold,” Haechan hummed in approval.

You couldn’t stop smiling. A part of you couldn’t wait for it to happen. Doctor Stakes mentioned that it could feel like your stomach grew out of nowhere. 

Within the next couple of days, you communicated with your consultants and the management at your agency and notified them of your pregnancy. You divulged that you were sixteen weeks along and fully intended to be a mother to your children. 

And in no uncertain terms. Given the flexibility of your schedules and hectic hours, they agreed that it was only fair you took off as much as you took on. You were offered six months, which you accepted thankfully, and were told to inform them when you would be starting two weeks in advance. 

When you delivered the news to Haechan, he couldn’t contain his excitement. Everyday the ongoing reminder of your looming childbirth settled in. His kids were developing inside your womb. He was going to be a father. You were going to raise two kids together in your shared home and every time he realized, he fell more and more in love with the thought. 

Only a few weeks later you were at his parents’ house watching Haechan and his father set up from the kitchen. Though you wanted to at least help with the baking, his mother was unshakeable in her ways and rigidly told you to sit and not move. 

She wanted her grandkids delivered in the best possible health. His parents were enthusiastic to discover that you were pregnant, though not without slight scolding. But they weren’t against a celebration. 

“I knew it. You know, a mother always knows,” his mother had told you while her son and his father were in the living room. 

You heard a knock at the front door a couple of hours later and separated from Haechan who was making out with you while his parents weren’t looking to greet your friends. The first person you heard was Mark. 

“What up,” Mark exclaimed when he strolled inside like he owned the place. 

Ryujin wasn’t far behind, obviously, but behind her was her boyfriend, Sunwoo. Every now and then, you were reminded that the guy actually existed, although he had come home from Chicago years ago. 

You gave them each kind hugs. “Hi, guys. Long time, no see.”

Ryujin spat, “Mark gets a Grammy nom that he didn’t even win and acts like he’s too cool for us now.”

“God forbid a man gets busy and goes to his home country,” Mark droned in stride. “Besides, I’ll get it next year.”

You nodded in approval. That was the spirit. 

“It’s good to see you, man,” Haechan said, pulling Mark in for a brief hug after doing the same with Sunwoo and Ryujin. 

Mark patted him on the back. “Same, dude. It’s good to have all of us together again.”

Sunwoo picked up some candies that were collecting dust in a bowl on the coffee table. “Are these peanut butter?”

“Yup,” you retorted. 

He quickly sat it back down.

Ryujin explained dryly, “He’s allergic.”

Pinching Haechan’s arm, you gave him a stern look, knowing he was on the verge of a snicker. 

You remembered something and mentioned to Mark, “Oh, by the way, I’ve been hearing your new single on the radio. It’s really good.”

There was a faint blush across Mark’s cheeks. “Thanks,” he chirped. 

“I did the cover art,” Ryujin added. 

Mark whined, “Why can’t you ever let me have my moment?”

You chuckled. It was good to have them all back. Other than Sunwoo, you were pretty updated on what they all had going on and though it drove them out of the city sometimes, you were endlessly happy for them. Mark was obviously the next big thing and was busy making global hits, touring the seven seas. 

On the other hand, Ryujin worked from home more often than not, typically only leaving California to go on vacation. She did art commissions notably for wealthy patrons and pitched in with Mark’s creative team whenever needed. 

Chaewon was also frequently home, owning a hair and nail salon here and all. You and Winter definitely took pictures and credited her in your Instagrams stories. Speaking of Winter, she was everywhere, much like you. More than once, you collaborated in a photoshoot or went to Paris Fashion Week together. 

Which left Jaemin. He was much more lowkey. After giving his master's degree last year, he finally started to work as a mechanical engineer. You couldn’t believe how smart he was, having skipped a grade and all. 

The others showed up a little later. Your stomach was turning with a mixture of nerves and excitement. You couldn’t wait to get the news off of your chest. You smiled when Haechan looped an arm around your waist, almost like he could sense your whirlwind of feelings. 

Some dancing and singing at the top of your lungs later and your worries were promptly forgotten. Chaewon, Winter, and Ryujin danced with you while the boys were laughing in their own circle. The whole room was entirely too chaotic and Haechan’s parents escorted themselves out minutes ago. 

Now it was time for the kids to really party. 

Mark, under the impression that this party was just a small get-together for friends who didn’t get to see each other often, glanced at you and asked, “Okay, rum, tequila, or vodka?”

You winced. “Oh, no. I can’t.”

Mark gaped. “What? I’m on tour for a few months and now you don’t drink?”

“Yeah, um, about that,” you said, gesturing for Haechan to cut down the music. “I have something to tell you guys.”

“You’re taking care of your acne? You’re breaking out more than usual,” Mark blurted without malice. 

Haechan cocked him a glare, deadpanning, “You know, Mark, it amazes me how you can always be so close yet so far away.”

Everyone was gazing at you with baffled looks. Then, you set your hand on your stomach, and it clicked. Mark gasped, “Don’t tell me…”

“I’m pregnant,” you announced, giggling when Haechan curled his arms around your waist as he hugged you from behind. 

He was quick to correct, “We’re pregnant.”

“Yes,” you said with a chuckle. “We’re pregnant.”

The nerves were back with a vengeance. You knew they were all going to have distinct reactions and the anticipation was killing you. You thought they might have chided you for being stupid. 

As it turned out, there was a chorus of excited noises and “congratulations” that you could hardly make out. Everybody was trying to speak over each other and you had to add, “Okay, one at a time. Please.”

Chaewon wasn’t shocked, almost like she expected it to happen, but had her hands on her hips in her typical fashion. “I’m your best friend and you didn’t tell me you were pregnant?”

You winced. “Sorry.” Expected backlash, you thought. 

“It’s okay,” she said, shoving Haechan out of the way to pull you in for a hug. Much to his annoyance. “I’m so happy for you.”

You chuckled at the sound of Haechan huffing from beside you. “Thanks.”

Mark was next. There were literal twinkles in his eyes. “I’m going to be an uncle?”

“Absolutely. Your niece and nephew are going to love you,” you retorted happily. 

Winter gasped, “You’re having twins?”

You bobbed your head. “Yes. One girl, one boy. We both wanted different things so I guess that was the universe’s way of being a diplomat.”

Winter snorted in amusement. She could already guess what your preferences were. “Oh, wow. Congratulations. Jaemin and I definitely aren’t having kids, so I’m cool with being the rich auntie.”

“Mm, three rich aunties. They’re going to be so lucky,” you dragged. 

Haechan droned, “And extremely spoiled.”

You giggled.

Sunwoo and Ryujin walked up to you. Ryujin was staring at you in adoration. “Have you painted the nursery? If not, can I please help?”

That was an absolute no-brainer. “We haven’t done a lot of things. We need as much help as we can get.”

Sunwoo glanced between you and Haechan and said, “Congratulations.”

“Thanks, man,” Haechan said, holding out his hand. 

Sunwoo firmly shook your boyfriend’s hand. Then, he looked to Ryujin, parting his lips to speak, and she snapped with a shake of her head, “Nope. Never.”

Sunwoo frowned. 

You giggled. It didn’t take a genius to understand he was about to ask her about having kids someday. 

Jaemin looked like he couldn’t believe his ears. Though, he had to admit it made sense. You and Haechan just couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. “You’re pregnant?”

“Very.” 

“Wow,” he replied, shaking his head in disbelief. “And I thought we had enough Haechan walking around.”

“Dude, I’ll kick your ass,” Haechan hissed. 

Jaemin threw up his hands in a gesture of innocence. “Kick my ass after the party’s over.”

Winter wandered over again, a drink in her hand, and quipped, “You know, this whole time I thought you were going to get Haechan pregnant.”

That got a giggle out of you. “No worries. I’m gonna peg him tonight.”

Haechan was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. 

While you went to go find Chaewon and whisper something in her that made a smile crawl its way onto her lips, Haechan and Jaemin excused themselves from the room for a minute. 

The garage was hot and stuffy, a stark contrast from the ventilated and free energy of the party, but it was the perfect place to have a private conversation ideally without any unwanted listeners. 

Haechan mounted one of his dad’s old bikes (his father was still an avid bike fan no matter how long it had been since he rode one). He wasn’t going anywhere, but he needed a distraction. 

Holding a beer, Jaemin nudged his best friend and asked, “You don’t want a drink?”

“No, I can’t,” Haechan replied, voice distant.

Suit yourself, Jaemin thought. Then, thinking back to something you said, he teased, “Guess she was serious about that pegging shit, huh?”

Haechan snapped, “Do I ask you how you’re fucking Winter?”

Jaemin made a face before downing what was left of his beer. “Good point, my friend.”

Haechan was obviously in his head, which meant nothing good. As always. He wasn’t unhappy - the opposite, rather - but this was one of those days where everything felt unreal. 

If there was anything he knew, it was that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. His little voice in his head snapped, Damn eighteen fucking years. You were his until he died. 

The silence was getting off-putting, thus Jaemin started, “So, a baby.”

“Yeah,” Haechan answered blankly. It was almost like he wasn’t ever there. His surroundings be damned. 

Jaemin was officially miffed. “You wanted to come out here to talk to me about something, man. Open up, brother. What’s on your mind?”

Haechan shook his head. He was in desperate need of direction. He huffed, “I don’t know, bro. I’ve never felt shit like this before.”

That piqued Jaemin’s attention. All he could think of was how badly his brother in everything but blood needed a drink or a cigarette, though he correctly assumed he was abstaining for your sake. “Like what?”

“That’s the thing. I can’t explain it. I mean, I put a baby in her,” Haechan started, conflicted. “Two babies. You know that we wavered a long time before she decided that she wanted to keep them?”

“Well, I do now.”

Haechan’s features were tensed in his typical pensive gaze. “I support her regardless of what her decision would have been, and I made sure she knew that, but I was secretly hoping that she wanted to keep it. Because I realized what I wanted.”

Jaemin prompted, “What do you want?”

“Everything. I wanna do the whole nine. I wanna start a family with her. I wanna pick up the kids after school. Make the three of them breakfast in the morning. I wanna spend every second of my life next to her. When I die, I want to be buried next to her grave.”

Jaemin tilted his head with suspicion. “Haechan, do you wanna marry her?”

“Yeah. I wanna marry her,” Haechan answered. He was finally confirming it - aloud. “Is it too soon?”

“That’s not for me to decide,” Jaemin said kindly. 

Haechan sighed. 

Jaemin gave him a pat to the shoulder and added, “Hey, bro. The worst she can say is ‘no.’”

There was a war-waging storm inside of Haechan. He was prepared to kiss the ground that you walked on. “She’s the mother of my babies…,” he trailed. 

Though Haechan tried to blink his tears away, his emotions and love for his family was too goddamn strong. His heart beated for the three of you. This paternal responsibility added a brand new meaning to his life. A different purpose. 

Jaemin noticed his best friend’s tears and immediately opened his arms. “Dude, come here.”

Haechan marched over and let Jaemin sweep him into a borderline aggressive hug. There was thunder in his heart and he could feel it shaking everything he’d ever known. This kind of euphoria was foreign to him, but he never wanted it to stop. 

When he pulled back, Haechan wiped his face and muttered, “Don’t tell them I cried.”

Jaemin snickered, patting his friend on the back. “Don’t worry, man. I got you for life. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Haechan blew out a shaky breath. “By the way, my girlfriend and I talked, and we decided that we want you to be the godfather.”

Jaemin pointed to himself with his finger. “Me? Why not Mark? What do I know about god?”

Haechan snickered. “Think of it as being the highest ranking uncle.”

“I like that. Uncle Jaemin. It’s got a nice ring to it,” Jaemin replied, nodding with approval. 

“What about Dad?”

Jaemin grimaced. “That’s not funny. I have nightmares about that.”

Haechan laughed. 

As soon as that was over, Haechan and Jaemin slipped back into the party so naturally it was almost as if nothing ever happened. He found you sipping on an iced tea in an attempt to quench your thirst. 

You cocked a brow at him. “Everything okay?”

Haechan bobbed his head. Then, he stole your glass out of your hands and took a sip, much to your annoyance. “Yeah. Why?”

“Just asking,” you replied, snatching your drink back. 

Tempted to giggle, Haechan held it back when a thought crossed his mind. “I’m not having second thoughts.”

“I know.” You also knew his secret, familiarized with the little gleam in his stare, though you decided against mentioning it. 

Haechan grinned, taking your available hand in his, and asked, “Wanna dance?”

“I was wondering when you would ask,” you retorted, setting down your glass and leading him to the center of the floor. 

Heat fluttered in your chest when you felt Haechan get closer to you. With his hands at your hips and yours at his shoulders the two of you started to sway around the floor, earning a number of exhilarated noises from your friends in the room. 

But it still felt like it was just you two, like it did all those years ago when you realized for the first time that there was something so different about him. For lack of a better word, he was just so mesmerizing. You remembered wanting to know everything there was about him. 

Bliss made you close your eyes and make a wish to the stars, hoping for an eternity with the man you loved and the life you made together as partners. 

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Sunwoo excuse himself from this fascinatingly beautiful moment to accept a phone call. Not that you minded. You were entranced in that moment and everything else had little consequence. Your heart was dancing inside your chest and on the floor. 

Haechan pressed a kiss to your brow, looking at you with total undeniable affection. His eyes were sparkling again though not with tears - with adoration. This man would steal the moon for you and then proceed to wish on every star for a thousand more moons to gift you. 

Only if he knew that there was an impending danger he should’ve wished away. 

Sunwoo entered the room again and walked towards the two of you, which made you both stop and curiously gaze at him before he said, “It’s for you.”

You were baffled. “Who is it?”

“Jeno.”

Haechan’s face paled. 

Without thinking, you took the phone and pressed it to your ear, then said less than amicably, “Hello?”

Jeno’s voice was quick to fill your ears, an air of surprise to his tone when he spoke your name. “Hey. Don’t hang up, please.”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t,” you hissed. 

The room was silent while you talked. The music was cut again and everybody’s eyes were fixed to you, watching this phone call unfold with interest. Nobody dared to say a word, but the disdainful feelings were pretty much obvious. The anger in Haechan’s eyes almost matched the ire in yours. 

“Because I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” you repeated. “That’s all you have to say?”

Jeno sighed from wherever the hell he was. “Listen, I want to talk, but I don’t want to have this conversation over the phone. I was thinking maybe we could meet up somewhere.”

“Just a second,” you replied, handing Sunwoo back his phone while you dragged Haechan over to a corner. 

Judging from the mere force of your actions, you were clearly upset and it didn’t take a genius to point that out. Haechan was ready to pummel this guy to the ground for your sake. “What happened? What did he say?”

“He wants to meet up. I guess he wants to apologize,” you whispered.

Haechan exclaimed, “What?”

You put your finger to his lip. “He said that he was sorry.”

Frustration made Haechan cross his arms with a mean-looking scowl on his lips as he huffed, “And you want to entertain this fool?”

You shrugged. You were obviously angry and feigning indifference, covered head to toe in unadulterated rage, but there was something in you that wanted to give Jeno the benefit of the doubt. “Call it curiosity. But I’m not going out pregnant. I’m not ready for the world to know yet.”

“Okay, so I go.”

You had already thought of that, pondering all your options in a five-minute time span, but quickly responded, “Yeah, but I kind of wanna be there when shit goes down. How about we invite him over?”

Haechan was seething. “You want to invite him over to the house where we’re going to raise our son and daughter?”

“We need a bigger house anyways,” you answered flatly, exhaling a breath. 

“Bigger than ours?”

“Bigger than ours.”

Haechan frowned for a moment, though after a moment or two of contemplation, he relented. “Fine. But I want to do all the negotiating.”

You bobbed your head. “Fair.”

Haechan politely asked Sunwoo for his phone again, then switched on a dime when he spoke sharply, “Hello?”

Neither of you could see the way Jeno’s eyes flickered with shock. “Haechan.”

Haechan snapped, “Don’t give me that shit, man. Did you change your number?”

Jeno faltered with confusion. “No?”

“Good. I’m going to text you our address. You’re going to be at our front door step tomorrow afternoon at two o’clock sharp or else you’ll be turned away at the door. And you better tell me something I want to hear or I’m kicking your ass.”

There was a lull of silence as Jeno processed those words. 

Haechan immediately added, “Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Goodbye,” Haechan said, promptly hanging up the phone and returning it to its owner. 

Mark was not shockingly the first to speak. “That was… intense.”

You shrugged. “I thought it was hot.”

“Of course, you did,” Mark teased. 

Haechan shook his head. It felt like the more the days passed, the more there was on his mind. 

Regardless of unfortunate events, you refused to allow them to ruin the celebration. Assertively, you demanded that somebody put the music back on and encouraged your boyfriend to bust a move. Socializing and having fun was the quickest way to make him forget the unforgettable. 

Even though you were less expressive in your contempt, it obviously put you at unease as well and you were also in fine need of an effective distraction. A drink would have been nice for knocking back inhibition, but you’d resigned yourself to the fact that you had months before that was a viable solution. 

Plus something that you learned as you bordered closer onto your thirties was the significance of letting loose without the need for recreational use. There was something more special about bonding sober. 

Priorities shifted. Like how you were steadily beginning to value your personal life over your career and image. When you were in your early twenties, everything felt more life-and-death than it was. Now, the most pivotal moment of your life would be successfully giving birth. 

Later that night, those were the thoughts battling in your mind until noon that day. It seemed like every day you were making changes in your day-to-day routines to accommodate your new life. Changes that you were so certain at one point would feel like the end. 

You knew now it wasn’t anywhere close to the end. If anything, it was a new beginning and a transition to a new stage of your life. You were standing at the threshold of parenthood. 

That wasn’t to say you were going to remain indoors for the rest of your life until you wilted and succumbed to eventual fate. Or become a housewife and die, as Haechan had humorously put it. Granted, you realized how vital it was to be a little more laid-back and would undoubtedly shelter your children, but you were already fantasizing about sending the kids to the grandparents for a fun night out. 

You wondered if Jeno had changed. All things considered. He was older, too, and closer to Haechan’s age than he was yours. Though five years didn’t seem like too long ago, you had seen a quantity of things occur in that time. 

And you weren’t just talking career-wise, though that technically helped your case. You were in no way a stranger to the upward spiral of Jeno’s career. Like you, he had a successful career in the fashion industry, walking down runways and posing for big shot photographers. 

On more than one occasion, you’d been invited to events at the same time, though you had considered yourself lucky to not have any face-to-face encounters with him and simultaneously practiced your professional skills if it inevitably were to happen. 

Maybe it was for the better. A way to prepare you for the hell that was today. Still, you couldn’t deny being anxious as you lounged on your couch. 

Checking your watch and noting that it was a minute before two, you exhaled, “What if he just doesn’t show up?”

Not a moment later, the doorbell rang. Oh, you thought to yourself. He’s always been punctual. 

“You have your answer,” Haechan droned. 

You took three stabilizing breaths when you watched Haechan leave the room to answer the front door. Maybe you should have let him take care of this. No, chided the voice in your head. This is both of your history. He shouldn’t go through this alone. 

Especially not when he was evidently opposed to it and only agreed because it was what you wanted. 

There was a disturbance in your brain when you saw Haechan round the corner and return with Jeno. This guy had essentially been off of your radar for so long that it was jarring to be confronted with the fact that he wasn’t a figment of your imagination. 

Jeno spoke your name. “Hi.”

You waved. As of this second, you didn’t have anything to say to him. 

“You can sit,” Haechan said when he sat next to you on the loveseat. He sounded bored. 

Jeno perched on the chair across from you, fumbling with his hands. You didn’t know Jeno for as long as Haechan had, but you still had never seen him anxious. 

You scanned your memory for any recollection of him being anything other than cocky and confident and ultimately turned up empty. His raging ego and dilated pride was his vice and had cost him more than you’d ever known.

Impatiently, Haechan prompted, “Well, are you here to twiddle your thumbs or…”

Normally, you would pinch his thigh for rude comments, but today he had a free pass. 

Jeno lifted his head to meet both of your eyes when he finally started, “I’ve spent six months trying to practice what I would say if I ever got the chance to apologize.”

Both you and Haechan had your arms folded, stubborn. Save for the unignorable vexation, your faces were borderline inscrutable. He picked the wrong duo to fuck over. The two of you were unrelenting. 

Jeno let out a little sigh and promptly continued, “I say six months, because it took me four years and a half to understand just how badly I fucked up. At first, it didn’t bother me that I lost seven friends on the same day. I was arrogant. I thought I didn’t need friends.”

You almost laughed. Almost. That much was obvious. 

“And I had that mindset for a long, long time. There’s just something about when you’re super young and you feel like you have the whole world at your feet. Obviously, the popularity didn’t help. When I started to become famous, people wanted to hang out with me.”

“Yeah, that tends to happen,” you quipped smartly. “They see you’re the next big thing and they hold onto you because that’s what you’re there for. To be their one-way ticket to stardom. Then, when they get what they wanted, you’ve exhausted your purpose.”

“Yeah.” Jeno bobbed his head in agreement. 

Haechan was not here to have a conversation about the brutal reality of being a superstar in the industry and his jaw clenched. “What made you realize that you fucked up?”

“What she said,” Jeno replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is a shallow job. Nobody was really my friend. I was either just their ride to fame or an accessory to make them look good. I realized how much I missed not only you two, but the whole gang, because you were the only people who cared about me beyond the surface.”

Haechan sighed. 

Jeno’s voice got quieter. Not emotional, but dangerously close. “In our clique, it didn’t matter if you were on track to being a celebrity or just some guy. You know?”

“Yeah. I know.”

You frowned. 

Haechan added, “So, you get lonely and decide you need us?”

“I know how that sounds, but…,” Jeno trailed. “But I’m sorry. I’m sorry for taking you for granted. I’m sorry for competing with you instead of being your friend.”

Haechan’s lips were in a hard line. 

Jeno flitted his gaze towards you. “I’m sorry for using you. It was beyond fucked up.”

“To be fair, I was using you, too.”

Jeno bounced his leg against the ground, attempting to thwart his nerves. At the back of his mind, there were many unspoken thoughts. “Yeah, but you didn’t leave a woman in the street by herself. I still haven’t forgiven myself for that. If something happened to you, it would have been all my fault.”

Just the thought triggered something spiteful inside you. “I’m glad you realize that.”

Knowing you better than anybody, Haechan could sense the fire smoldering inside of you, slipping his fingers through yours and squeezing. “This has been… whatever, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’re stressing my baby mother out.”

Jeno spluttered, “Baby?”

“Yeah. A baby.”

Jeno’s eyes flickered in shock. “Wow, um. That’s amazing. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” you replied, tone completely noncommittal. “We’ll think about it.”

You watched Jeno bob his head and reply with a quiet “thank you” as your boyfriend stood to see him out. With how your brain was practically like a wildfire, it felt like the epitome of madness. 

Haechan came back only a couple of moments later sporting a sour glower. 

You relaxed when he sat next to you. You didn’t realize that you’d been so stiff. “Well, what do you think?”

“I don’t know,” Haechan lied without realizing, because his skepticism wouldn’t allow him to admit his true feelings. 

Well, you knew exactly what you were thinking. “He seems genuine. I don’t think he has an ulterior motive. I mean, he’s doing great, he doesn’t need us.”

Haechan prompted, “But?”

You heaved a breath. Sometimes you hated that Haechan knew you so well. Better yet, he understood you perfectly. 

“But I don’t forget as easily as I forgive,” you said quietly, drifting endlessly in your thoughts like spacetime. 

Haechan huffed, “Me, neither.”

Without many uncomfortable amounts of stressful thoughts, your life went on. The world kept spinning no matter what you were going through and it did you no good to subject yourself to strain while you were carrying twins. Your doctor was clear that the risks associated with pregnancy grew with more than one child. 

Your body was undergoing so much change that you didn’t even step outside because you didn’t want the world to know that you were pregnant until you announced it yourself. Given that it was your first pregnancy, you wanted it to be unforgettable. 

The baby bump felt like it happened overnight. You couldn’t stop gawking at yourself in the mirror, in disbelief that there was something coming to life inside of you. They were starting to move around, too. You cried when you noticed the fluttering in your belly, almost like butterflies. 

Every day you were counting down the seconds until the photoshoot until in a blink, the day had finally come. Haechan, the gentleman that you had fallen in love with, had everything set up at his studio and was rigid with the staff, though nonetheless polite. You were beaming. Not many opportunities arose for you to see him work behind the scenes and it was heartwarming to see him be so attuned to your needs. 

It was one of the most fun and rewarding shoots you’d ever done in your life. And it would be the most noteworthy. The vibe was nothing less than ethereal and it was full of kisses and laughter. Haechan’s hands and lips on your belly. Holding your hand while you looked into each other’s eyes with the utmost adoration. 

Holding the physical pictures between your own fingers, you sobbed. You were very emotional these days and half expected Haechan to poke fun at you, but he never did. He was the same way, passionate about the undying love he had for you and your unborn children. 

There were a couple of pictures that you didn’t release to the public. Those were just for you and your loved ones. They were more vulnerable, sentimental pictures where you and Haechan couldn’t but stare at each other with a tearful gaze. 

The moment of truth, came the little voice in the back of your head while your finger wavered over the share button. Half of you wanted to hand your phone over to your PR team, but it was important to you that you were the one to disclose. 

You took a shaky breath just before pressing the button and tossed your phone to the side. What was said online wasn’t any of your concern. You didn’t want to know. 

Outlets rushed to cough up the news. Your social media accounts were bursting with likes from people all over the globe. People you were friends with in the industry didn’t hesitate to call and congratulate you on the pleasant surprise. This wasn’t a secret anymore. Now that it was out there, it was everybody’s business. 

When the deed was done, you chose to focus on yourself and the life surrounding you in every capacity rather than what was out of your hands, and made peace with the fact that public opinion was inevitable. What you could control, on the other hand, was how exposed you were to stranger’s thoughts. 

The next few weeks were filled with yoga and child development textbooks. Haechan was taking pictures weekly to document your belly growth. He had already decided that he was going to start a photo album specifically for your children while they grew older. 

You told him that you couldn’t think of a more beautiful idea. 

One Friday came and brought a handful of errands along with itself. You were undoubtedly pregnant now, but not so much that you couldn’t complete tasks by yourself, though Haechan thought that that was debatable. He thought it was ridiculous that anyone expected you to do anything and upheld that you deserved princess treatment. 

But you had a medical opinion that said staying active during pregnancy was beneficial for you and the babies, and Haechan resigned himself to defeat. 

Apparently, the universe wasn’t in your favor, because your car started to have complications. First, the sunroof vehemently refused to open. Then, like a total drama queen, your car decided that she didn’t want to start. 

The most exasperated breath escaped your mouth. You didn’t know the first thing about getting a stubborn vehicle to start and you knew Haechan didn’t either. Besides, not only did you not want to disturb him while he was working, but you were equally stubborn and wanted to prove that you were capable of handling yourself. 

Out of options, you had a really, really bad idea. 

Something unfamiliar stirred in your gut when you pressed your phone to ear, hearing it ring. Anxiety. Or maybe it was something else. Something unidentifiable. 

Jeno sounded a little startled when he spoke, as if he thought you called him by accident. “Hello?”

“Hi, Jeno,” you said less than enthusiastically, rubbing your forearm. “I’ve got a serious favor to ask.”

Though you couldn’t see, Jeno perked up at those words. He was completely desperate. “Yeah, sure. Anything. What’s up?”

Providing a little humor, you replied, “Assuming that you actually know how to work on cars and that wasn’t a lie to impress me, my car kind of won’t start and trying to guilt trip her into functioning doesn’t seem to be effective.”

Jeno snorted. “Did you check the battery?”

You almost started to panic. “No. Was I supposed to?”

“Uh, how about this. If you want, I can come check it out,” Jeno suggested, then immediately regretted the decision. He didn’t want to try and insert himself into your lives too quickly. “But only if you want me to.”

That wasn’t the best idea, considering your boyfriend was intent to hate Jeno’s guts and would not approve of him standing in his garage alone with his baby mother, but your options were already few, so you replied, “That’s fine. You know where I am.”

“I’m on the way,” Jeno said. You could hear him shuffling around in the background. 

“Okay. See you soon.”

You hung up without giving him a chance to respond and released an uncertain breath. Don’t make me regret this. 

Waiting with bated breath and folded arms, your gaze upturned some thirty minutes later when you heard a blue Mercedes Benz turning into your driveway. 

And then Jeno started to walk over to you. 

“Hey, sorry I couldn’t make it sooner. Traffic is crazy today,” Jeno said when he stopped just shy of your toes.

You waved him off. “You’re good. Thirty minutes isn’t bad for California traffic. Thanks for coming over.”

“No problem,” Jeno replied. He didn’t waste much time on small talk, getting straight to what you called him over for. “Let’s see what’s wrong with this bad boy.”

“Her name is Mariposa,” you corrected, but your tone wasn’t malicious. 

Jeno threw his hands up. “Where’s my manners? I should’ve asked. Sorry if I offended you, Mariposa.”

You snickered. “Don’t apologize to her. She’s caused enough trouble today.”

Jeno chuckled. 

While you kept yourself occupied in the corner, not wanting to disturb Jeno as he tried to figure out why your car was acting like a bitch, his brain was totally divided. Half was focused on thoroughly examining your car, while the other was hooked on the fact you remembered something he told you five years ago at dinner. 

Jeno was pondering, hoping. Maybe you just had a good memory, especially when it was convenient, but he hoped that someday, there would be room for him again in your lives. 

Even if he had to spend years proving that he was worthy. 

Jeno separated himself from the lifted hood of your car, dusting his hands off. Your eyes were stuck on him with gut-eating anticipation. “Looks like your alternator is weakening. Smells like burned wires and the serpentine belt smells like smoke. Your engine’s probably leaking.”

“English, please.”

“Your alternator’s not alternating and your shit’s fucked,” Jeno replied, blunt. 

“Oh.” That certainly wasn’t what you wanted to hear.

“Don’t worry. The good news is that it’s nothing that can’t be fixed,” Jeno reassured, pushing the lid back down. “The bad news is that I don’t have the tools to work on it for you.”

You ran a hand through your hair. “Guess I should call a mechanic.”

Jeno bobbed his head. “That would be a good start.”

You were anxious to ask, but did it anyway, “If it’s not too much trouble, would you mind hanging around? One look at my neighborhood and the obvious fact that I don’t know a damn thing about cars, and anyone would try to scam me out of more money than I need to spend.”

“Yeah, of course,” Jeno replied, dipping his hands in his pockets. “But, uh… won’t Haechan mind?”

You snorted. That was an understatement. “Oh, definitely, but his vehicle knowledge starts with one wheel and rides with two. I don’t think he has a say in this.”

Jeno snickered. 

The mechanic came half an hour later and you let Jeno handle the bulk of the talking, only chiming in when the guy asked specific questions like how long you’d been experiencing complications with your car.  

Between the mechanic peeking under the hood and Jeno pointing out to him your car’s tenaciousness, you understood enough of their exchange to know that fixing her would take a solid two hours. Unfortunately, this guy was stretched thin, meaning he would have to tow it back to his shop and have you pick it up tomorrow. 

“This day cannot get any worse,” you grumbled underneath your breath. 

Jeno was frustrated for you and it wasn’t even his car acting a damn fool. After he seemed to hesitate a little, he asked, “Will Haechan be back soon?”

“Nope. He had most of his hours cut, but apparently there was a really huge crisis at his job. It’s going to be another hour or two.”

“Dammit,” Jeno groaned. “Well, if you want me to, I wouldn’t mind driving. You seem really stressed and that’s not healthy for the babies. I mean, obviously you know that, but...”

His nervousness was not lost on you and you resisted a chuckle, interjecting, “Jeno, I would really appreciate the help.”

“Okay, cool,” Jeno said, whipping his keys out of his pockets and tossing them in the air. “Where to?”

Gently helping you get into his car, Jeno made sure that you were safe and comfortable before he took the driver’s seat and braced his hands on the wheel. He was certain that your lover would have his head on a stick for driving you around without his knowledge, but he had a moral obligation not to leave pregnant ladies under tension. 

Besides, he had to prove his loyalty somehow. It didn’t matter how much Jeno insisted that he’d changed. Neither you or Haechan would be convinced until there were no doubts.

Your head was against the door, temporarily appreciating the air conditioning until you just couldn’t take the silence, asking, “So, how’s life? Last time we spoke, you were talking about people being shallow.”

Jeno nodded his head quietly. “I’ve been scared of meeting new people. I have a few friends. Other than that, I have my family and girlfriend.”

Your brows furrowed. That was new. “Girlfriend? Congratulations. I didn’t know.”

“Thank you,” Jeno replied, heat rapidly flushing his cheeks. “She’s the one that encouraged me to apologize. Even if you guys still hated me in the end, she said it would be good to get it off my chest.”

That was interesting. Nobody saw the day coming where Jeno of all people would choose commitment. “Is she in the industry?”

“No, she’s actually a banker,” Jeno replied, chuckling. 

“Really? How did your paths cross?” 

“It’s a long story,” Jeno said, but you could see his eyes sparkling with happiness. He must’ve really liked her. 

Pointing to the road in front of you, staring at the red light glaring back at you both, you shrugged your shoulders. “We’ve got a long day.” 

For the duration of the total ride, in between stops, you chatted with Jeno to pass the time. It wasn’t the easiest thing to relax around each other, each for your own reasons, but you managed. And truth be told, it wasn’t all too bad. 

Your chronic cynicism was the only thing standing in the way of your forgiveness. But Jeno had no apparent reason to drive you around and assist you with errands if it wasn’t simply out of the kindness of his heart. There was nothing that you could give him that he didn’t already have. Except maybe loyal companionship, but he’d already made it clear that he wasn’t lonely. 

Only hours later did Jeno finally pull back into your driveway. Most of your errands just required having to speak with people, but noting that you were probably out of your favorite snacks again, you opted to head to a couple of stores. You also figured you would need some chocolate when it was time to placate Haechan after he realized you’d been with his worst enemy all day. 

When you were home, Jeno refused to let you carry a single item. With your bags in his hand, he opened your front door and dropped your bags off in the kitchen. 

The sound of his front door opening was all too familiar and it was no surprise that Haechan rushed downstairs, having returned only maybe half an hour before you, and chirped, “Baby, you’re home!”

You wrapped your arms around him. Haechan gently hugged you back, careful not to harm you. His warmth was appreciated, but remembering you had a little surprise, you pulled back. “Don’t get mad.”

Haechan gave you a look. “Why would I get mad?”

Surprisingly on cue, Jeno returned from the kitchen, trailing, “I put the food in the...” 

Jeno and Haechan locked glances as it was like a deer crossing paths with a mountain lion. Though you could feel Haechan tense, rather than his hold slackening, it tightened. You could see the anger flickering onto his face within a blink. “What is he doing in our house?”

“I just said don’t get mad,” you groaned, winding a hand through your hair. You cocked your head towards Jeno and said to him, “Jeno, thank you for helping me out today. I owe you one.”

“No, you don’t. I’m endlessly indebted to you,” Jeno quipped, sticking his hands in his pockets. 

“Damn right,” Haechan murmured under his breath. 

Nudging him in the side, you ignored Haechan’s whine of pain. “Well, get home safe. Thank you again.”

“No problem. Have a good night,” Jeno said, seeing himself out. 

“Get home safe?” Haechan repeated when Jeno disappeared. 

You heaved a little breath and asked, “Do you want him to die or something?”

“Well…”

“Stop,” you hissed, breaking out of his arms and moving to a chair. “He really helped me out today. My car broke down and he came to check it out. Then, when the mechanic took my car, he volunteered to help me with my errands.”

Haechan followed behind you, confused. “What? Why is this my first time hearing about this?”

“Because you had a work emergency and it wasn’t worth interrupting you over. I can handle stuff by myself, you know.”

“I know you can, but…,”

“But you’d rather me call you than the guy that fucked you over, yeah, I know,” you huffed. 

“You just finished my sentence.”

Your brows furrowed, wondering how that was in any way significant. “So?”

“So, this is going in the completely wrong direction,” Haechan said, cooling off for your sake. The last thing you needed was stress or a petulant baby daddy. “Let’s calm down and go upstairs.”

You opened your mouth to say something, anything to oppose him, but closed them when you realized you’d fallen short of things to say. “Fine.”

Haechan helped you to the bedroom. The stairs were definitely a problem lately, courtesy of the additional pressure on your uterus. You had to be extra careful coming up them now. 

When you were sitting on your bed, Haechan quietly came beside you. You released a tiny breath, not pleased or disgruntled, but of the will to leave whatever just happened downstairs. It was to be expected. 

After a minute of silence, Haechan finally said, “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. “Don’t be.”

“No, I should be. You know I never want to make you feel like I think that you can’t do anything yourself. But I need you to know that I’m still there for you to lean on when you need me.”

Thankful that he was lying down, you lowered yourself to rest your head on his chest. Your lips were tugged into a faint smile. “Do you remember our first date?”

Haechan cocked brow. “The real one, or the unofficial first date?”

I still think the unofficial date was the real one, but whatever. Obviously, you would never say that aloud, because then it would spark the debate over what your actual first date was. You ignored his question and continued, “You said that you would never try to control me, because you’re a grown man and I’m a grown woman.”

“Have I?”

You answered bluntly, “No, you haven’t. That was five years ago, you know. I’m pregnant with our baby and even if I hate this next part, I have to depend on you a little more now.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I should make a sign-in sheet for everybody that enters your life,” Haechan said.

“Two things can be true at once.” 

Haechan said nothing, because there was nothing that needed to be said. You were so similar. That was why your relationship worked. Both of you needed time to yourselves, but the fact you were having a baby together forced you to readjust. 

It wasn’t just about what you or Haechan needed anymore. Your two babies would be entering the world any day now and they took precedence in your lives now. There would be difficult choices and there would be compromises. For both of you. 

You found his fingers, blindly lacing your fingers through them. “I don’t forgive him, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Oh.”

You continued, “I think I probably will, eventually, but not yet. Not right now.”

“You said that I would rather you call me than the guy that fucked me over,” Haechan rewinded, squeezing your hand. 

You made a face. “Yeah, I did, but I was irritated and I cut you off. It’s a bad habit that I still haven’t let go of. And it will probably happen again.”

Haechan snorted. “You weren’t wrong, but at the same time, I think I might forgive him too. Not right now, obviously, but eventually. Like you said.”

“Why?” You were confused. You saw how Haechan’s demeanor switched on a dime when he noticed Jeno was in his house. 

“Because he helped you. And anyone that treats you respectfully without an ulterior motive is alright in my book.”

There was movement in your belly and it wasn’t the babies for once. It was the butterflies. 

Haechan draped his other arm over you, smiling gently as his hand touched your belly. “By the way, is this a good time to mention that I have something to tell you?”

Your face tensed with curiosity. “You’ve already put it out there. Might as well cough it up.”

“Okay, well…,” Haechan started. His confidence seemed to be dissipating. “I was thinking that we should go on a babymoon before the kids get here.”

A single brow lifted from your face. “What?”

“Like a honeymoon, but it’s not a honeymoon. It’s a babymoon,” Haechan explained vaguely, sitting up in a way that meant he was serious. 

“Okay, but wouldn’t we go on a babymoon after we had the baby?”

Haechan gave you a look. “Baby, do you really think that we're going to have that kind of time after the babies are born?”

When he put it like that, the concept made a little more sense. “Fair point. Where would we go though?”

Haechan shrugged. “I was thinking Florida, but of course I’m open to suggestions. This is an us thing.”

“Florida’s good with me,” you said without complaint. 

“Then, Florida it is.”

Only two days later, you were on a plane to Florida with ample snacks and water. Haechan didn’t like to waste any time and you didn’t understand the point in waiting either. The clock was ticking and you were already in the third trimester. 

Sure, it was a last-minute vacation, but you checked in with your doctors and after a few evaluations, they had little problem with you traveling through air for a couple of weeks. 

Florida, specifically Miami, was ripe with obnoxiously hot weather in spite of the faded summer. December was similar in California, cheerful and sunny with occasional rain showers. Given that you were raised in the north, it was an exciting change of pace. 

Which was why you were glaring at Haechan in disappointment when you watched him pull three sets of familiar black leather from his suitcase. Your arms were crossed. “Did you really need to pack three different leather jackets?”

“Yes, absolutely,” he said without hesitating. “Come on, babe, you love seeing me in black leather. It’s what made you fall for me.”

You mercilessly quipped, “Actually, I’m pretty sure that’s what made me turn you away.”

“Whatever,” Haechan retorted, pulling another leather jacket from his suitcase. 

All you could do was shake your head. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear the same leather jacket twice.”

Haechan chuckled. “Now that’s an exaggeration. Besides, I need to have plenty to pass down to our kids. They’re gonna have to look extra cool when we go biking together. I can’t be seen with anything less.”

Your heart draped over your racing heart. “Haechan, you cannot take our kids on a motorcycle.”

“Of course not. Not with you knowing about it.”

Your heart was skipping. You were absolutely going to need to have a conversation with his mother. He’s definitely his father’s son. 

“I was kidding. It was a joke,” Haechan said playfully, but the mischievousness in his countenance was obvious. 

You rolled your eyes. “Sure it was.”

Whether it was or wasn’t, Haechan would never tell you. You would just have to cling to hope that he wouldn’t do something like that without your knowledge. Though you trusted him endlessly, the little snicker coming from his parted lips made you a little unsure. 

Then, the vacation started, and you tried to keep your mind from drifting towards the aftermath of pregnancy. Well, as much as you could with the added pressure weighing down your every footstep. Haechan didn’t want to leave you out of his sight for the next two weeks lest something happened to you.

Though you weren’t due for another five weeks, he wasn’t taking any chances. He waited close by when he surprised you with a prenatal massage and always kept your phones charged in case of emergencies. 

He’s going to be a wonderful father, spoke the smitten voice in your head in rhythm with your soaring heartbeat. He was vigilant, careful. You knew with total confidence that your children would be in the greatest of hands. 

Still, in spite of your mutual worries, neither of you would allow them to stand in the way of your fun. He wandered around the beach with you, sticking your toes in hot sand and taking a dip in the water.

Sporting a two piece swimsuit, you felt somewhat self-conscious meandering just shy of the shore in front of so many people. Though you’d convinced yourself that you were doing a good job at hiding the truth, Haechan grabbed your hand and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” It was an obvious lie, because you replied way too quickly. 

Haechan’s steps slowed, cocking his head to look at you. “That’s a lie. You answered too fast. And you didn’t ask me why I asked.”

Your shoulders slumped in defeat. “It’s just… that I feel a little exposed.”

Even though that was vague as hell, Haechan knew exactly what you meant and he wouldn’t stand for it for even just a second. “Babe, you’re beautiful. That’ll never change, even if your body wil,” he said, stopping dead in his tracks. 

Your eyes stung with tears. You’d been outside lately, but never this exposed. Never this far into your pregnancy. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t feel like this.”

Haechan shook his head. “Don’t you dare apologize to me. You can feel however the fuck you want. Just remember that I love you regardless of what you look like. And your body’s only changing to cater to the life we’re about to bring into the world.”

That reminder was all you needed. As long as you had Haechan’s love and enough of your own to supply your children, everything else ceased to matter. 

For half a second, you thought about how tired he must’ve been of having to provide you reassurance, but you shooed the thought away. Everything Haechan did for you was because he cared. There were more than a handful of times where Haechan would randomly confess how gorgeous he thought you were and how much he loved you. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

Haechan set his arm at your backside. “You have nothing to thank me for. It’s the truth.”

“I know, but I don’t know how I would do any of this without you. You make everything easier. I feel like I can breathe as long as you’re with me.”

Haechan’s heart was unstill. He couldn’t imagine his life any other way. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he confessed, the sound of his voice featherlight. 

You wanted to test that theory. Mischievous, you squeezed his hand and leaned onto his shoulder, asking, “Would you rather go back to the room?”

What that meant was obvious to Haechan, but it still surprised him. Your sex drive wasn’t as active lately. And not only that, but he was too busy becoming a father to focus on his libido. “Would you be there?”

“I would do a lot more than that,” you retorted. 

Haechan pressed, “But would you want to?”

“Babe, if I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have asked.”

Haechan nodded. It’s not like you were ever afraid to tell him what you wanted. Or what you didn’t want, for that matter. Plus it had been a lifetime since the two of you had sex, and he couldn’t blame you for wanting to get it in before exhaustion became the only thing that drew you to bed. “Say less.”

The walk back to those canopy chairs was eager. Haechan wanted to return to the room as quickly as he could, but patiently remained at your side. 

After collecting your beach towels and rinsing off loose sand (as much as you could in public), you and Haechan walked side-to-side back to the hotel. The sight of your suite coming into view five minutes later made you release a shaky breath of relief.

You and Haechan locked lips almost the second you stood behind the door. Haechan couldn’t wait any longer; he was bursting. Ever since you introduced the idea some twenty minutes ago, all he could think about was putting his hands on you. 

His hands were quick, loosening the string behind your back. Some weeks had passed since he touched you like this. Maybe a month. Now he was remembering what it was like to be caught in your path. 

You separated yourself from him, exhaling, “Bed.”

Haechan grabbed you by the waist and guided you to the bed. When you were there, you climbed your own way up the mattress, with him following closely after. A hand crept into your bare chest and the other behind you, gently craning you onto your back.

Your lips connected again. Fire ascended over you, starting in your heart and stretching elsewhere. His lips were so pretty and kissable. Throwing your mouth against his and sucking on his tongue was something you simply never got bored of. You just couldn’t explain it. 

Haechan pulled back again a couple of moments later, staring at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “Better?” he asked, eyes sparkling with wonder.  

“Mm-hm,” you sighed contentedly, lacing your fingers through his beautiful head of hair.  

Haechan extended an arm down your calf, teasing the skin before cycling your legs into the air and ripping your panties almost right from underneath you. He so badly wanted to touch you everywhere, gnawing at his lip with an insatiable hunger. “I’ll never get tired of this,” Haechan said wantonly. “Tired of you.”

That was without question. You could feel his half-hard cock growing at the edge of your swollen thigh. Arousal shot through him like a firework and it would take little to nothing to get him excited.

Your heart throbbed in sync with your pussy and your leg, still in Haechan’s itching palms, tensed insatiably. There was nothing that turned you on like being wanted. 

Wishing he would take off those stupid swim trunks, a dangerous thought wrecked through your brain and you asked, “Can I do something this time?”

“Not a chance.”

You snapped, “And why not?”

“Because it’s my responsibility to take care of you. And right now, I just wanna make sure you get wet enough to take my dick,” Haechan replied. 

Your next best option was begging. “Please? I’ll get wet just from seeing your pretty face scrunch. Killing two birds with one stone.”

Haechan’s lips parted to turn you down, but he started to mull over your suggestion. Hope nipped at your heart, twinkling in your eyes. Blowjobs shouldn't've hurt the babies. And he knew you wouldn’t be able to lie on your back for very long anyway. “Fine. How do you wanna do this?”

You were beaming. With Haechan’s help, you kneeled on the mattress before crawling over to the edge of the bed. “I read something online. Let’s try you standing here while I lay on my side.”

Per your request, Haechan shifted to the edge of the bed, stepping out of his swim trunks where his dick was desperately poking around for attention. 

You leaned onto your left side, excitement making your heart beat quicker. And your pussy throb, but you were happily focused on someone else right now. “Feel free to use my mouth.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Haechan said, though he would try not to. 

Pressing your lips against his inner thighs, you brushed them over his skin, feeling his legs tense at your touch. So, so sensitive. You could only imagine what would happen when you sucked his cock into your mouth. 

You reached out to grab a fistful of his cock, just after spitting into the palm of your hand, and started to pump him slowly. More often than not, you started off tentatively; you liked to tease him. There was no point in getting him off if you couldn’t see the irritability and desperation on his handsome face. 

Haechan’s breath hitched. His cock was twitching. You seemed to always know what to do with your hands, in spite of the fact that you never let his cum too quickly. But you knew exactly how to wreck him. 

“You don’t have to tease, you know,” he said, voice a little distant like he wasn’t even there.

“I know,” you replied offhandedly. “But I want to.” And I know you pretend not to like it. 

Haechan huffed, but he was only half upset. Part of him liked when you had total, unmitigated control of his pleasure. 

You didn’t release your grip on his stiffened cock when you’d had your fill of teasing him until you sucked the tip into your warm mouth. There was a breath on Haechan’s end, light and shaky, and you couldn’t wait to replicate it. 

Your cheeks were hollowed. You were eager to take most of him down your throat, but were cautious about your pacing, given that it had been a minute since you sucked the soul out of Haechan. Even you were reluctant to give him head during the first trimester because of the morning sickness. 

“Fuck,” Haechan whined shakily. He was remembering what you said about using your mouth even though he hated that the idea appealed to him.

Haechan’s fingers gripped the sheets, opting not to touch you in case he went too far. His face was tense with pleasure and those featherlight moans were like music to your ears. You took more of him, hopeful to throat every inch, and looked into his hazy eyes to watch as it broke him just the way you knew it would. 

The heat was getting to be too much. His thoughts were racing by quicker than he could articulate them, all coming from his mouth being gentle sounds. But his head was saying, She’s going to be the death of me. And I’m okay with that. 

Then, he couldn’t hold back any longer, and started to thrust into your mouth. Though there wasn’t any warning and you only half expected it, you somehow willed yourself to relax. It was so goddamn hot. Pretending that it was your cunt his stiff cock was fucking got you even wetter. 

Even you were moaning and the vibrations shooting through his cock made the room whirl a little. And as if it couldn’t get any better, you pinched the skin of his thigh between your nails, plucking a lethal whine out of him. “That’s making me crazy, baby,” he exhaled, another groan escaping him when he met your stare.

You pressed your tongue flat against his shaft and Haechan swore he saw Michael Jackson looking down at him for a second. Please, was at the back of his throat, but he didn’t want to cum. Not right now. He wanted to cum when he was deep inside of you. 

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Stop,” he panted, blinking as if to clear the haze from his eyes. 

You grinded to a halt when you heard those words and noticed him no longer fucking your mouth, wiping saliva from your lips with the back of your hand. Your cheeks hurt, but it was worth it. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t wanna cum,” Haechan said, gravel. “Not unless I’m inside you. And even then, I might nut too quick.”

You waved off his concern and replied, “It’s okay if you do. I might tap out soon.”

“Duly noted. What’s the plan?”

You beckoned Haechan forward with your hand, watching him creep closer. When he bent down to your level, you whispered something in his ear. 

A few moments later, Haechan was behind you in the bed, your naked back flush against his bare chest. Your breaths were thick and rough while you became entrapped in his body’s warmth. Bending your knees, you counted down the seconds until he would be inside, holding your breath when he entered from behind you. 

And you released it when Haechan grunted at the squeeze of your vice-like cunt upon the first couple of thrusts. You were soaked, just like you said. Getting him off must’ve really done a number.  

His voice was so close to your ear, closer than you thought. “You know the drill, baby. Tell me if you can’t take it.”

You nodded. It was all you could do not to splinter then and there. 

Haechan was tentatively prodding, slow. He was careful not to do you any harm, because if he did, he’d never forgive himself. Luckily enough, what you were feeling was far from painful. With every inch he reluctantly pushed into you, your head was deeper into the clouds. 

There was nothing like being skin to skin with your lover, heart to heart. That was the better half of the appeal when it came to sex nowadays. Pleasure was seeked by the togetherness of intimacy, less than the emphasis of orgasm. 

But he certainly still knew how to get you there. 

“You always feel so good,” you moaned, stretching your hand to reach his forearm. This whole trip had been nothing short of romantic thus far. 

Something about your praise made all of the blood flow to Haechan’s dick, heavy and quick. “You ready for me?”

“Mm-hm. Move, baby,” you whispered, knowing he was testing the waters. “Just relax. You’re not going to break me, I promise.”

Haechan acknowledged your consent with the quietest of sounds, starting to pace himself in and out. His rhythm was steady, but none too rough. It was loving. 

It tickled when his lips grazed the back of your throat in a litter of kisses, breathless giggles escaping you. Wheeling your head, you turned to give him a peck on the mouth, watching the smile coax its way onto Haechan’s face. He has the prettiest smile ever. And I’ll do anything to protect it. 

Anything and everything. It was no secret that Haechan doubted himself sometimes. He rarely spoke to you about it, not wanting to lump his feelings on top of yours because he thought yours were more significant, given that you were the one bringing these children to life. But you wish he knew how incredible he was to you. 

Though you never failed to remind him. Even now, just looking into his eyes with total adoration, Haechan couldn’t understand. He wanted to see himself the way that you saw him. Thanks to your relentlessness, he was getting a little closer. 

Reaching out to touch his cheek, you whispered, “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone as much as I want you.”

“Fuck,” Haechan groaned, like those words alone would be the death of him. Which wasn’t too far from the truth. 

You playfully teased, “You always say the most romantic things.”

Haechan’s face flushed, but those explicatives were at the tip of his tongue. When he was deep inside you like this, his hands cupping your hips, it couldn’t be helped. “That’s funny. I was about to say the same thing,” he lied, losing himself with every sweet thrust.

Your lips parted in a laugh, but it was cut off by a moan. Between the sight and sound, Haechan couldn’t tell which was better. Watching you burst with rapture turned him on. Listening to you burst with rapture turned him on. You turned him on.

All you could feel was ecstasy. It had been said, but the whole world stopped when you were alone with Haechan and it didn’t affect you. When he was fucking all the stress out of your body, in spite of the heat scorching down your skin, you could somehow breathe. 

You faced away from him again, eyes fluttered closed. You were imagining him, even though he was right behind you. There was no space between your bodies and sometimes it was as if you were one person. Like you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. 

Which was ironic. Your first encounter wasn’t so long ago, even if it felt like a lifetime had passed since then. You still vividly recalled wanting nothing to do with him. 

Yet here you were. Carrying his baby, his offspring. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Haechan extended his hand over your lower stomach, reaching out to touch your clit. Your reaction was instant. You gasped, elevating to highs you never knew were in reach. Sex hit different knowing the extremes you were capable of when Haechan was giving himself to you completely. 

“I’m so close, baby,” Haechan warned. He could feel it approaching, but it didn’t matter to him if he didn’t cum either. 

That excited you. Your core throbbed and you purred, “Give it to me, baby boy. Cum inside of me.”

“Don’t say it like that,” Haechan told you, coming up on the edge. He rocked into you harder, wincing his eyes closed. 

You didn’t skip a beat. “Why? Too afraid you’re gonna bust a nut?”

When Haechan said nothing, you grinned to yourself. Then, his other hand came to your boobs, gently touching your nipples. You sighed out, breathless.

Now it was you unraveling. Like clockwork, your back started to arch away from him, your body too stimulated from his hands on your nipple and clit. It just felt so good - the whole room started to spin. 

Moving your hair out of the way, Haechan leaned even closer to you. If possible. You were obsessed with his mouth nipping at the shell of your ear. Voice at the back of your neck. “You’re gonna be a great mother. I can feel that you are,” he said, breath tickling your neck. 

You whimpered, listening to his gentle tone factored with the hot sound of sex thumping throughout the room. 

“Our kids are going to love you from the moment that they lie on your chest and get to see you. They’ll grow up lucky that they get to call you their mother, because even before they were born, you’ve done nothing but your best to care for and nurture them.”

“Haechan…,” you trailed. Your eyes watered. 

Haechan added, “And I’ll be there, proud as ever. Because if there’s any woman that’s fit to raise a baby, it’s you.”

Only seconds ago you didn’t think you would be able to go any longer, sensing yourself on the brink of tapping out, but that spiral ripped it out of you. You shuddered with climax, shifting away from his touch. The sweetest cry escaped you and you found his hand to anchor yourself through your orgasm.

That did it for Haechan in the end. He came just at a glimpse of you finishing on his cock, moaning your name darkly. Stifling his sounds into your shoulder. You milked his load out of him and Haechan swore it was mind-numbing to its core.

A moment passed before you each stilled. Sticky sweat connected your gleaming skin as you released open-mouthed exhales in an attempt to stabilize your breath. For a second, eyes fluttering, your brain was peacefully empty. 

Minutes later, you cocked your head and squeaked, “I’m going to the bathroom. Just rest. You don’t need to follow me.”

Haechan nodded, finally pulling out of you. Something about times like this made his heart swell and his skin swelter. Those moments of silence after. 

Wobbling inside the bathroom attached to your suite, you shut the door behind yourself, in spite of knowing Haechan would probably come in a minute or two. There was a gigantic smile on your face. Finding somebody that cared about you so much was a blessing. 

You meandered over to the toilet so that you could pee. Then, when you finished, you came to the sink to wash your hands of germs. The mirror in front of you was wide and tall. You stared at your reflection, letting out a contented little breath, and set your palms on your tummy. 

As to be expected, Haechan’s voice sounded from behind the door when you didn’t return a couple of moments after he heard you flush. “Baby, are you good? Can I come in?”

You quipped, “Haven’t you come inside of enough things?”

Haechan snickered, twisting the knob. Very funny. He was pleasantly surprised to see you slowly rubbing a hand over your pregnant belly, softly smiling even if you didn’t realize that you were.

Haechan came up to you. Your heart quickened when you sensed his warmth behind you, kissing your shoulder. “Was I too much?”

You shook your head. “It was amazing. I didn’t think I would make it that far.”

“What can I say? I’ve never not blown a woman’s mind,” Haechan joked, lips brushing the back of your neck. A litter of love bruises were there. 

You rolled your eyes. Then, you giggled. 

It was silent for a little while. Both of you were too in awe to speak. With your focus drawn entirely to your children, it was all too easy to become paralyzed with adoration. And they weren’t even born yet.

Haechan’s hand came around your hip, dropping below your ribs. You could feel him hesitating - his body tensed against your skin - but he ultimately said, “Not to be that guy, but I’m kind of glad you’re taking a step back.”

“Really?” You knew that. His happiness was never not clear to you. 

“Yeah, baby, I mean…,” he trailed, thinking. Longing. “Spending more time with you, bonding as a family has really changed me for the better, I think.”

I know what you mean, came your thoughts, but you just hummed. Haechan knew that you were listening. And you knew that he wanted to talk. Your fingers crept up his arm, reassuring. 

Haechan’s mind was racing. Blaring. “Becoming a father hasn’t just changed my life. It’s changed the way I look at life. Life is short, baby. The most beautiful moments of life are short, but they’re meaningful, because I have you. And I’ve got to make that count.”

You shook your head. “We’ve got to make that count.”

Haechan nodded, chuckling. “Yes, you’re exactly right. This is a group effort.”

Your eyes lifted to look at him in the mirror, and you finally realized your lips were curled. “You’re gonna be a good father, you know,” you said levelly. 

Haechan let his hands wander over your belly, running them gently over the flesh. There was a twinkle in his gaze and a beaming smile at his lips. “I can believe that now. And I owe all of the credit to you. I know what I want and who I am. You’ve made me see things from a different point of view.”

“Ironically, I feel the same way,” you said, finding some amusement in this moment of clarity. “It seems like only yesterday I was terrified of having a baby. I didn’t want things to change. The future was so scary.”

“And it’s not anymore?” Haechan asked.

“A little,” you confessed. “But knowing that I have you makes it easier. And knowing that our kids have someone like you, I can relax.”

“You know what they say. The best matches are people who bring out the best in each other.”

You bobbed your head. “Sometimes, I can’t tell if I grew because of you, or if I grew with you. But I think it’s both now. And now we get to do that for a lifetime.”

Yeah, I get that, Haechan thought. You don’t have a single clue, do you? Just how badly I wanna seal the deal, tie the knot. But I’ll take it one step at a time, because I know how you are. You’re slow and steady, baby. And I’m reckless and quick, but we make it work, because you know what you want. And so do I. 

“Yes,” Haechan sighed happily. “Yes, we do.”

A quick tear escaped your eye, but you wiped it away. You were overwhelmed in the best way. 

Haechan kissed your cheek, knowing all of your pleasures and your pains. And he kept them inside his heart in a vault. “I hope they have your eyes.”

Your brows furrowed in wonder. “I think our genes might be evenly distributed.”

“That is not how it works, baby.”

I know, but I want to have hope. It’s wishful thinking,” you replied, sighing. 

Haechan chuckled. “Either way, they’ll be beautiful. And they have a handsome father and breathtaking mother to thank.”

“That’s so vain,” you retorted. But you didn’t disagree. 

Haechan kneeled to the floor, sitting just shy of your stomach. His hands were still lovingly touching you. “Hi, son and daughter. It’s Daddy. I’m sure you’re sick of my voice by now, but that’s too bad. You have to deal with it for eighteen years.”

You shook your head, a stupid smile on your face. Your cheeks hurt. Somehow, you just couldn’t get enough of this boy. 

“Mommy says that Daddy is vain. Can you believe that? Me, of all people, vain. I mean, if you look as good as me one day, you will be, too,” Haechan said exaggeratedly.

“Babe, be careful what you tell our kids,” you chastised. 

“She’s scolding me now. Mommy can get scary when she’s angry, you know. You better not wind up on the receiving end of her wrath.”

You snorted. 

“Anyways, all I really wanted to say is that Mommy and Daddy love you very much. We can’t wait to see you,” Haechan whispered. Your heart burst when he pressed his lips to your belly.

You just knew that he was the one for you. 

The rest of the vacation - or babymoon as your babies’ daddy enthusiastically dubbed it - was a breeze. Before you knew it, you were on a flight back home. Beach air and rushing water was over. And California had never been more foreign. 

Back in your own home, you spent your hours reminiscing in between yoga sessions. You were grateful that Jaehyun suggested the babymoon. It was a much needed period of relaxation to distract you from the looming disaster of childbirth. 

And you were sitting just at its door. Because your pregnancy was considered high-risk and you were not inclined to have a c-section delivery, your doctor recommended labor induction. When you didn’t go into labor after twenty four hours, you started to feel unnerved. 

You had nightmares about what would happen if things went wrong sometimes. Your doctor and childbirth educator made sure that the risks were outlined and clear. One wrong move and you could lose your kids, not to mention that anything could happen to you. 

That was why Doctor Stakes wasn’t willing to risk natural birth. Having twins alone constituted a high-risk pregnancy and they were actively monitoring your babies positions to make sure they weren’t breech.

Haechan was restless, but he tried to keep it together for your sake. He called your name, hand in yours. “Baby, I can feel you tensing. Breathe,” he told you calmly. 

Your voice trembled, “I’m scared.”

“I know. I am, too, but I’m right here with you. We can overcome anything as long as we’re together.”

You bobbed your head and sucked in a breath. Had he not been there with you, it would’ve been a hell of a lot scarier. 

An eternity and a half seemed to pass before you finally went into labor. The contractions started at a distance and you likened them to the preparation trials you endured during the second trimester. Then, they were shorter apart, and the pain intensified so much it felt as if there was no air. 

At the first nick of pain, you immediately pressed for an epidural. Your childbirth already wasn’t natural. And if they thought you would be able to do this without medication, they completely overestimated you.

It took fifteen minutes for a nurse to administer the epidural and another fifteen for the effects to settle in. Haechan never let go of your hand unless he absolutely needed to and he was staring at you with a newfound respect. And his respect for you was already in the heavens. 

“This is crazy,” you wheezed, pulse quickened. 

“It is,” Haechan agreed. “But you can do this. You’re stronger than I ever have been.”

You tugged your lips into a smile. “I’ve been thinking about us. Instead of the risks and stuff.”

That was a pretty good idea. Haechan said, “Talk to me. Tell me about it.”

“We got a new house, like I said. The kids are roughly five years old. They’re helping you make omelets because you know that I like them. There’s a cat. We let them name it. And I’m completely oblivious to what’s going on.”

Haechan snickered. That sounded like his offspring and he hadn’t even met them yet. 

You added, “I thought about something else. There’s a private photoshoot. You’re the photographer, of course. The kids are in your leather jackets, but they’re oversized on them. The whole thing is so cute.”

Haechan kissed your cheek. His heart was thumping in his chest like a hammer and there was a sudden gush of warmth shooting through him. “I bet it is. I can see it playing out in my head right now. We should have a shoot like that one day. With all of us in black leather.”

You chuckled. It was tempting. 

There was so much action in the room. People were moving from place to place to ensure that your babies were delivered safely. Your midwife assured you that the process was moving smoothly. 

With that out in the open, you could breathe a little easier. Though you and Haechan still had no intention of separating from each other. The nurses would have to forcibly pry him away from you.

“It’s time to push,” came your midwife’s level voice. 

The nurses were helping you realize when you needed to push. The movements felt like a distant pressure in your lower back, courtesy of the epidural. None of what was happening to you seemed real and all left to ground you in reality was the knowledge that it was really happening. 

“This is happening,” you said shakily. “Oh my god. This is actually happening.”

Haechan uttered the dreaded words, “Babe, relax.”

“No! I’m never doing this again!” you snapped dramatically, overwhelmed with all the motion. “You need to get a vasectomy!”

Haechan took your outburst in stride. “I’ll do anything you want.”

“Fuck,” you exhaled, an invisible cool shiver running down your spine. 

The first push alone was exhausting. You started to feel lightheaded and as if you would faint from the pressure. There was a lull of relief when the nurse permitted you to take a break to regain strength. 

Tears stung your eyes. “I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can,” Haechan told you in a heartbeat. 

Your confidence in yourself started to dissipate, but with your faithful partner and a dedicated team of medical staff reassuring you through the process, you forced the negativity out of your head and focused on your children. 

“Another push,” your midwife urged. 

You took one big, stabilizing breath before it was ripped out of your lungs again. Your legs had gone completely numb. There was still a slight degree of discomfort in your back that heightened a little with every push, but you winced your eyes closed and rid the thoughts. 

“Breathe with me, baby,” Haechan said during the next break. 

With what little strength you had, you nodded your head and followed his breathing patterns. Your heart seemed more tired than the rest of you as you physically shook. The blood was rushing through you to a painful degree.  

You squeezed Haechan’s hand, which was what you had already been doing. His metacarpals were brave soldiers. “Tell me something.”

In typical Haechan fashion, he was cool as a cucumber. You would never guess that he was terrified for your life, but he pulled himself together. “Anything?”

“Yes. Anything.”

“When I was eleven, I wanted a leather jacket exactly like the black and red one Michael Jackson wore in Thriller,” he confessed. “Then, my mom got me one. And I hated it.”

Your brows furrowed. “Why?” 

“It was black and orange.”

You snickered. Now you were thinking about an angry little Haechan being a sulky and petulant mess. 

When it was time for the final shoves, you had just enough energy to will yourself to keep pushing. Your body was being put through the most gruesome test ever. But you kept the negativity to a minimum and thought only of your family for your own sanity. 

And then it was done. There were loud whimpers. Your baby girl was given to you first, followed by your son. You couldn’t remember a time when you were more occupied with emotion. 

Haechan gawked in awe. For a moment he couldn’t even believe that this wasn’t just a dream and fought off tears the best he could. You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop the tears blurring your vision. Your kids were here at last and they were the light of your life. 

The first hour was spent making plenty of skin-to-skin contact and bonding with your babies. Haechan was smiling so hard that his cheeks hurt. He was already obsessed with the tiny little humans he’d helped make and all of your mutual sacrifice seemed so worth it. 

There were many things that had to happen before you could leave the hospital, but two days later, you were at home resting. Sleep was all you wanted (even though your vocal children had other plans). Which, after the exhausting process you endured only days before, was well-deserved. 

One week passed since you were discarded from the hospital. After a period spent catching up on rest to the best of your ability, you started to accept visitors. Chaewon and Jaemin, the wonderful godparents that they were, assisted with fielding phone calls and text messages from curious loved ones. 

The mood in your home was different the day you and Haechan allowed visitors. Your bedroom was like a club and Haechan was serving as a bouncer, letting them in one-by-one in case you got overwhelmed. 

Chaewon had seen the babies a little earlier than the others. She was your best friend, after all. “They’re so cute,” she’d gushed. 

The babies in question were nested comfortably on your chest. They were also resting. There was a smile tugging at your lips, irresistible. Your heart was at peace. 

Ironically, Mark was the first to show up. Again. “Yo, yo, yo. Where’s my niece and nephew?”

“Shh. They’re sleeping,” Haechan scolded from the door. 

Mark’s eyes were wide, lips parted. “They must be sleepy, huh?”

You quipped, “Yeah. Apparently, wailing all night long is exhausting.”

“I was thinking they’d be tired of Haechan’s shit, but yeah, that checks out too,” Mark retorted. 

Haechan cursed under his breath. Then, he said aloud, “If I wasn’t a better man, I would pummel you to the ground.”

“A better man, my ass,” Mark taunted. His words were promptly followed by a gasp and he put his hands over his mouth. “I meant… my butt.”

You giggled. 

Mark switched on a dime. Concern washed over his face, tenderness in his eyes. “Dude, are you okay, though? Like, pregnancy is huge. It had to be eventful.”

“It was a lot of things,” you murmured, briefly bringing yourself back to that moment. You weren’t going to miss it too much, but it was beautiful. “I went through so many emotions. But I’m happy we’re all here.”

Mark bobbed his head. “Yeah, I am, too.”

When he exited the room, Winter promptly entered. And she gasped at the first sight of your babies, eyes dampening. “Oh my god!”

Her reaction made you snicker. “Yes, I know. They’re adorable.”

“Understatement of the year,” she drawled. “These are by far the cutest kids I’ve ever seen in my life.”

You grinned. “Thanks.”

Jaemin poked around the corner. Much like Chaewon, he had already seen your babies and spoken to them, cooing and babbling. “Somebody’s sleepy,” he retorted. 

You bobbed your head. “They should be.”

Jaemin didn’t miss a beat, “Guess they got sick of putting up with this guy.”

Haechan’s eyes narrowed and he hissed, “You’re late. Mark already made that joke.”

Winter giggled. You stifled one on your boyfriend’s behalf. 

There was a gap in between the next visits large enough for you to take a nap and you didn’t rouse until shortly before your fifth visitor. 

f

As if it wasn’t obvious, you ignored Jeno’s nervousness. He looked a little surprised, lips parted when he caught a glimpse of your kids from the door. After he made small talk with Haechan, he entered and said, “Wow.”

Your babies were awake now. And surprisingly calm. For now. “I know.”

Jeno cleared his throat. “They’re beautiful. Congratulations, both of you.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, staring adoringly at your kids. 

Jeno searched tirelessly for things to say. He didn’t want the wrong words to come out of his mouth, but you personally inviting him over shocked him. He asked, “How was labor?”

“Laborious,” you replied dryly. 

Jeno snorted. 

Haechan wasn’t shy to brag, “She was a champ. I’ve never been more proud.”

Your face was warm. And so was your heart. 

“I’m sure she was,” Jeno said, gleaming. 

You tilted your head. “Would you like to hold one of them?”

Jeno gawked. “Can I?”

You nodded. 

“Okay. Yeah, sure,” Jeno stammered out. 

Glancing down at your son, you cooed, “You wanna go to Uncle Jeno? Yeah?”

Shock flickered over Jeno’s face, as if he couldn’t believe the words leaving your mouth. With maternal cautiousness, you handed him your closest child, which happened to be your son. Jeno watched for his head without having to be instructed, holding your baby as if he would shatter. 

These babies were a part of you and Haechan, and Jeno swore that if there was anything you ever needed him to do for them, he wouldn’t hesitate to come running. 

“Hi,” Jeno greeted, smiling at your son. “You’re really lucky, you know. You have the best mom and dad on the whole planet.”

You smiled softly.

“Am I…,” Ryujin trailed, strolling down the hallway. Imagine her shock when she noticed Jeno standing there. “Late?”

Jeno cleared his throat. “Ryujin.”

Ryujin’s arms folded. “Jeno.”

“You look good,” Jeno said, mouth suddenly dry. 

Ryujin was eyeing him, skeptical, as if she still didn’t trust him. But you could see the sadness in her stare. “You, too,” she replied quietly. 

Jeno gently placed your son back in your arms, making sure he was secure before he released his grip. 

“We forgive him, Ryujin,” Haechan said, even if it took months. 

Ryujin’s eyes flickered. Jeno stepped in front of her and glanced at the floor. If there was something he wanted to tell her, he lacked the courage. 

“Look me in the eyes.”

Jeno did it. He would do anything to make his mistakes up to the people he owed to. 

Ryujin wrapped her arms around him. Jeno stiffened for a second, not expecting that of all reactions, but gently hugged her back. While they were reconciling, you and Haechan glanced at each other. There was a telepathic exchange of thought between the two of you. 

Then, Ryujin pulled back, and whined, “Ugh, I just realized something. We’re uneven again.”

Haechan snorted in disbelief. Of course that was what she was worried about. 

“Not if you include the kids plus Haechan and I’s future cat,” you quipped smartly. 

Ryujin beamed in amusement. “I think I can work with that.”

Glancing down at your two lovely kids, the cutest of hats on their tiny little heads, you grinned and said, “Yeah, so do I.”

[hairmetal666]

au where Steve is a famous Disney kid and Eddie is a teenaged singer-songwriter. They get pushed together at events because they're close in age, but they just quietly dislike each other.

Steve's got a new show starting, a spinoff of the one that made him a household name. They hire a newcomer, Robin Buckley, to play his best friend and the two quickly become BFF in real life.

The show runs for two seasons but when it comes time to renegotiate contracts, neither star is interested. They're older now, ready to live life on their terms and not the company's, or in Steve's case, his parents.

As soon as the finale airs, Robin and Steve celebrate by going to a gay club. A few weeks later, an interview is released where Steve comes out as bi and talks about how his parents mistreated him; how they worked with the network to pressure him to be a perfect "all-American" kid even off screen.

Meanwhile, Eddie's an impossible level of famous. He's had number-one hits, won a Grammy, headlined an arena tour, achieved every dream he had for himself as a kid growing up in a trailer park in Indiana. He's not shocked by the news that Steve is leaving Hollywood, but he's flabbergasted that the guy isn't straight. When Eddie reads the interview, he gets this weird pang in his chest, almost like regret. But he never even liked Steve.

Steve isn't in the news again and Eddie doesn't think of him for a long time.

Steve goes to college. He loves it. Not because he's great in his classes, or anything, but because he's free to be himself for the first time. He makes friends and goes to parties and relaxes. He and Robin share an apartment.

After a few semesters, Steve decides to take a couple of theater classes, and is quickly cast in campus productions. In the vague anonymity of college theater he rediscovers his love of acting. No one has expectations of him, no one forces him to perform. He graduates and slowly starts appearing in small roles in Indie films, gathering critical acclaim. He feels good. Happy. Hopeful.

Eddie is blissfully unaware of Steve's career resurgence, experiencing his own musical highpoints, until the day where he's scrolling Twitter, sees a Variety headline that's getting a bunch of attention, "Steve Harrington in talks to star in Max Mayfield's first film." Eddie's livid.

"Maxine, what the fuck?" He growls when she answers his call.

They grew up together in the same Indiana trailer park. When she moved to Hollywood to start a career as a screenwriter, Eddie was by her side. And when her first script wound up on the Black List, his involvement on the soundtrack and original songs sealed her production deal.

She gives a long suffering sigh. "Munson," she grumbles. "I know you have a weird history with this guy, but I swear he's the right choice."

"He's a stuck up rich boy who's never been in trouble in his life."

"He's changed."

"Doubtful," Eddie sneers.

"Look. I'll set-up a meeting. Come hang out and you'll see what I mean." Before she hangs up she adds, "Call me Maxine again and I'll end you."

They invite Harrington to Eddie's recording studio. His hopes are not high for this meeting, so he's already a little thrown when Steve Harrington walks in, all grown up. He's in a crimson sweater, tight jeans, hair grown long so that it flops around his face in tousled waves that actually look genuine, windswept and golden. Eddie's eyes instinctively trace the scatter of moles on Harrington's face and neck, a pang of something hitting deep in his gut. Fuck, this dude is beautiful.

"Harrington," he greets, sticks out his hand. Eddie barely hears the answering, "Munson," because instead of a handshake, Harrington pulls Eddie in for a hug. Muscles bunch under the sleeves of the sweater, against Eddie's chest, and he's assaulted by the scent of cedar and sunshine and Steve. Eddie's not prepared for any of this.

They make small talk, Harrington sharing about going to college, falling in love with theater, Robin Buckley who he calls his soulmate. Eddie's head rings with how wrong he was about this guy; the pretty kid he grew up alongside who seemed to have the world in his hands. Max was right, he's perfect. Except.

"Let's get down to it, Harrington," Eddie says. Can't bring himself to call him Steve yet, feels that will somehow change everything and he's not ready. "I'll admit that Mayfield had the right idea about you, but can you sing? Play guitar? You have to perform my music, dude. That's not a small ask."

Harrington smirks, asks for a guitar. He gets it settled across his lap before he speaks. "I started taking piano lessons when I was 4. Voice and guitar at 7."

Eddie belatedly recalls that Harrington's parents were the worst kind of stage-parents, pushing their cute kid to perform even as he sobbed about wanting to play soccer with his friends instead of going to auditions. He has a moment of shame that he forgets as the other man begins to play. It's one of Eddie's biggest hits, a ballad about a teenaged broken heart from a kid whose name he can't even remember.

Harrington's hair flops in a swoop over his forehead, his fingers move across the strings with ease, skill. His voice is a rasp, close mimic to Eddie's own, but not quite deep enough. Goosebumps spread across Eddie's arms, his neck, and warmth pools low in his gut.

Steve finishes the song, looks up, cheeks glowing pink, honey eyes bright. Eddie's fucking gone for this guy. He wants so badly he might choke on it.

"Good?" Steve asks.

Eddie's embarrassed suddenly. Unsure. He tugs at his hair. "Yeah," he laughs. "Good."

He reaches out to take the guitar, the one Steve's already handing to him, and their hands brush. Eddie flushes. Their eyes meet and Steve smiles. Eddie's thoughts are consumed with the desire to kiss his plush pink mouth.

"You wanna get dinner? Just you and me?" Steve asks.

"Yeah, Steve," he laughs. "I'd love to."

🎬🎸🎬🎸

Fifteen Months Later

"Former Teen Heartthrobs Make Love Connection?"

Fans of musician Eddie Munson and former child star, Steve Harrington, were in for the surprise of their lives last night as the men arrived together for the premier of Harrington's new movie, Small Town Sins, written by up-and-coming screenwriter Max Mayfield, featuring original music by Munson. While Harrington's performance and the movie itself are garnering quite a bit of positive buzz, it's being overshadowed by gossip about Harrington and Munson's budding romance. They walked the red carpet together, pausing for photos as a duo, holding hands and flirting. When asked for confirmation of their relationship, Munson answered, 'we're bros,' before winking and pulling Harrington close.

There's a TikTok video embedded below the article, showing the men being interviewed on the red carpet. Their arms are loosely around each others' waists, and when their eyes meet they catch and hang for a beat.

"So, longtime fans of both of yours are going feral online right now because of the rumors that you two used to hate each other. Is there any truth to that?" An off-camera voice asks.

The men laugh. "We've always been great friends," Eddie answers.

"Eddie thought I was stuck up," Steve giggles.

"I did not." Eddie slaps at Steve, who gives him an affectionate smile.

"Liar," Steve answers.

Eddie leans into the camera like he's telling a secret. "Harrington here was afraid of me."

"Fuck off, I was not." They wrestle around for a couple of seconds.

Steve shrugs Eddie off, straightening his suit jacket. "Okay, maybe I was a little intimidated back then, but then this morning you found a pretty rock and cried about it."

Eddie shrieks, swatting at Steve until someone in a black suit and name tag shoos them down the red carpet.

Eddie walks off first, so he misses Steve withdrawing a hand from his pocket and saying, "Still have the rock, though." He flashes the red, grey, blue striped stone at the camera.

His gaze drifts away, landing somewhere in the distance, hazel eyes soft and heart-wrenchingly fond.

[amazzwon]

MY GO-TO SEVENTEEN FICS

────⟢.ᐟ Choi Seungcheol (Scoups)

╰ Rough

smut, 2k

╰ warm hearts

fluff, 0.5k

╰ his arms

smut, 0.4k

╰ sapiosexual

smut

╰ Good Luck, Fermata Tower

firewatch au, smut, angst, fluff, 13.9k

╰ always only you

14.2k, smut, childhood friends to lovers

╰ Shiver Me Timbers!

pirate captain!seungcheol x siren!reader, fantasy au, smut, 3.0k

╰ Dancing Queen

smut, fluff, slight angst, disco club owner!choi seungcheol, performer!reader

╰ passenger princess(es)

fluff, established relationship, 0.8k

────⟢.ᐟ Yoon Jeonghan

╰ First Makeout Session

suggestive, minors do not interact

╰ my heart is beating for two

fluff, daycare worker yn! x secretary jeonghan, 1k

╰ Blueberries

smut, yoga instructor!Jeonghan, 2k

╰ Hate is a strong word

smut, angst, fluff, e2l, coworker au, 15k

╰ How many chances are too many chances?

angst, fluff, fwb, f2l, 14k

╰ Titty-Shirt!

pervert!rollercoaster operator!jeonghan x bigtiddie!fem!reader, theme park au, coworkers to lovers, e2l, smut, fluff, 13.2k

╰ every summertime

16.1k, 70s au, playing hard to get, smut

────⟢.ᐟ Hong Jisoo (Joshua)

╰ City lights Series

smut, rocksinger!joshua, neighbours with benefits, angst, fluff, 75.4k

╰ NBA player

smut, 0.8k

╰ cranberry concoctions

bartender!joshua, smut, a little angst & a little fluff, 1920s prohibition au, speakeasy au, 4.6k

╰ leaning on the everlasting arms

childhood best friend! pastor's son!joshua x f reader, angst, smut, some fluff, bible college au, 10.3k

╰ Curse The Stars

Salesman!Joshua x Starlet Afab!Reader, Smut, fluff, strangers to lovers, fwb to lovers, 1970s Hollywood au, pwp, 8.4k

────⟢.ᐟ Moon Junhui (Jun)

╰ Christmas with his family

fluff, comfort, (slight) angst, 0.5k

╰ Do Re Mi

smut, fluff, 4k, wife!reader, husband!jun

────⟢.ᐟ Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi)

╰ charity f*ck

smut, virgin!hoshi x experienced!reader, fluff, 12.2k

╰ Leather

smut, 1.5k

╰ driving lessons for dummies

fluff, humor, smut, strangers to lovers au, college au, stoner!hoshi, 16k

────⟢.ᐟ Lee Jihoon (Woozi)

╰ Somewhere In The Middle

9.7k, romance, smut, best friends, fwb to lovers, hurt, comfort

────⟢.ᐟ Jeon Wonwoo

╰ [12:01 AM]

fluff, 0.2k

╰ First Snow

fluff, angst, smut, ceo!wonwoo, single mom!reader, 33k

╰ no such thing as too perfect

office au, established relationship, fluff, 2k

╰ wonwoo falling in love for the first time

fluff, 0.8k

╰ April Shower

12.0k, romance, meet cute, smut, love at first sight

╰ Mine, all mine

4k, boyfriend’s dad au, smut

────⟢.ᐟ Lee Seokmin (DK)

╰ Backstage series

romance, smut, theatre performer!seokmin, fake dating with benefits, 43.6k

╰ Teach Me

smut, humor, college au, 2.3k

╰ I ❤️ DILFS / GOOD GIRL

college au, brother's best friend au, smut, crack, angst, 15.9k

╰ Patterns

smut, eventual fluff, angst, 10k

────⟢.ᐟ Xu Minghao (The8)

╰ (Not Titled)

fluff, humour

╰ i should’ve never let you go

exes!au, angst, comfort, 2.5k

╰ Flashing lights

model!minghao x f!assistant!reader x actor!mingyu, smut, 30k

╰ the letter

slowburn, fluff, angst, childhood f2l, 26k

────⟢.ᐟ Kim Mingyu

╰ titty obsessed! mingyu

smut

╰ i’ll marry you with paper rings

smut, fluff, angst, 28.3k

╰ kisses to his moles

fluff, 0.8k

╰ Drunk Goggles (Heart Eyes)

fluff, suggestive, 1k

╰ [10:23 PM]

fluff, 170

────⟢.ᐟ Boo Seungkwan

╰ honey

wedding planner!reader, fluff, smut mdni, theatre performer! seungkwan, childhood crush to lovers, 10.2k.

────⟢.ᐟ Chwe Hansol (Vernon)

╰ Friends with Benefits

fwb setting, suggestive

╰ DO YOU DREAM OF ME?

soulmate au. slight college au , f2l, fluff, some angst. pining, 9.6k

╰ [16:23 PM]

fluff, childhood friends to ?, 0.3k

╰ Birch Trees & Fear Street

smut, fluff, 1.7k

╰ sweet kiss

fluff, strangers ish to lovers

╰ BEAUTIFUL

fluff, strangers to lovers

╰ Music festival

drabble, fluff

╰ operation: hot girl summer

smut, fluff, humor, summer romance au, best friends to lovers, 4k

────⟢.ᐟ Lee Chan (Dino)

╰ As It Was

Ghost!Chan, Human!Reader, Romance, Angst, Smut, Historical/Fantasy Themes, Reunited Lovers, 9.1k

╰ Goodbye, Fourth of July

college au, best friends to lovers, angst w a happy ending, smut

╰ Love Guard

Lifeguard!Lee Chan x Lifeguard! Fem Reader, 9.2k, Fluff, E2L (One sided)

╰ distraction, a fatal attraction

strangers to lovers, college au, fluff, 7k

╰ In Case You Didn’t Know

Fluff, romance, smut, a little angst, Brother’s best friend au, roommates au, 90s au, 28.8k

[yanderestarangel]

✩ 𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑!𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐗 𝐅𝐓𝐌 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 ✩

TW: smut, porn plot, sex without a condom, johnny cage porn star au!, ftm reader, compliments, degradation, oral sex -m!receives, fingering, male pronouns used, afab anatomy, aggressive sex, dom!johnny cage, sub!reader, not reviewed, vaginal sex.

You needed money and started making videos for onlyfans, some videos just masturbating, but your body and beauty caught the attention of some powerful people, including Johnny Cage's manager, who asked you to make a porn video with Johnny Cage himself, that the fee would be high and that you would gain even more subscribers for your OF.

So, you accepted.

You went to the film set, it was a luxurious apartment on the twentieth floor of a high-class building, you were nervous, soon seeing Johnny Cage, smiling sideways while waiting for the producers to leave after adjusting the camera and scenery, and just staying you, him in the room.

"-Fuck, you're even more beautiful in person pretty boy, are you ready for our little debut?..." -Johnny said, serving you a martini, so you would feel lighter.

You sit on the sofa next to him, the lights of the apartment/porn film set slightly warm your skin, while you refuse the martini offered by Johnny, after all, you were going to debut in porn, it wouldn't be a good idea to be slightly drunk, the smell of expensive men's perfume left Johnny while you became even more anxious about what was to come, you introduced yourself to him quickly, with politeness and as much calm as you could manage at the moment.

Johnny Cage smirked as he admired your beautiful appearance and the way you carried yourself. He took a step closer, closing the distance between you, his eyes scanning your body hungrily.

"-Well, (Y/N), it's a pleasure to meet you." -he said, his voice low and seductive, his hand instinctively reaching out to touch the fabric of your clothes.

"-I'm sure you'll do just fine. Just remember, we're here to make a captivating performance. We'll give them a show they won't forget."

He leaned in closer, his hot breath grazing your ear as he whispered: "-And who knows, maybe we'll have a little fun outside of the cameras too." Johnny hand trailed down your side, tracing the curves of your thigh.

The atmosphere in the room grew thicker with desire, as Johnny Cage's hungry gaze met yours. "-Are you ready for our little show (Y/N)?"

You agree, taking off your clothes, still with a shy feeling in your body, but the fabrics soon slid off, making you vulnerable in front of the cameras, and the Hollywood actor. Johnny Cage's eyes widened at the sight of your exposed body, his breath hitching in his throat, he couldn't tear his gaze away from your perfect curves, your skin calling to him.

"-(Y/N)..." -He said, his voice filled with a husky desire as he took a step closer to you. "-You have an exquisite body. You're absolutely stunning, my sweet pretty boy." -As he approached, his hands reached out to touch your bare skin, his fingers tracing along the curve of your waist and grazing your breast. His touch was confident, yet gentle, as if he was admiring a work of art.

"-I can promise you, that our scene together will be unforgettable. I'm going to make you moan, scream, and beg for more." -Cage breathed, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

His fingers trailed lower, teasingly brushing against your thigh before swelling closer to your wet pussy. Johnny eyes never left yours as he continued to speak.

"-And maybe, just maybe, after the cameras stop rolling, we can explore our desires even further, shall we begin, my sweet (Y/N)?" -With that, he pulled back slightly, his dark glasses reflecting the studio lights as he smirked suggestively.

Johnny Cage's touch was electrifying as his fingers delved into your wet pussy, the sensation sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, causing you to moan into his kisses. As the scene continued, Johnny's skilled fingers moved with purpose, teasing and pleasuring you to the brink of ecstasy. Each touch, each stroke ignited a fire within you, making you writhe and gasp for more.

The chemistry between the two of you was undeniable, your bodies entwined in an erotic dance that left both of you craving for more. Johnny's kisses trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of lust and need in their wake.

With a low growl, Johnny broke free from the kiss, his voice filled with primal desire. "-You're doing so well, (Y/N). I want to hear every moan and whimper, let the world know just how good I make you feel."

His fingers quickened their pace, driving you closer to the edge. Your glistened on his fingertips, proof of your pleasure. The room was filled with the sounds of your passionate cries, a symphony of desire.

Just as you were about to reach your climax, Johnny abruptly removed his fingers and stepped back. His eyes gleamed with anticipation, his voice dripping with arousal.

"-Save it, (Y/N). Save that release for me. There's so much more to come."

And with those words, he directed you to move to the next scene, leaving you aching and desperate for the release only he could provide.

Johnny quickly placed you on your knees in front of him, his cock was elevated in your face, making you part your lips in a gesture of lust and submission, nothing mattered at that moment, your core burned with excitement, you took him inside your mouth, his cock throbbed in response to his skilled ministrations, and a low rumble of pleasure escaped his lips.

"-That's it (Y/N), Take my cock like a good little slut. Show the world how much you want it." -He tangled his fingers in your hair, guiding your movements as he fucked your face with a rough urgency. His hips surged forward, filling her mouth completely. The room was filled with the wet, lewd sounds of his oral worship, a tantalizing symphony that echoed his power over you.

You eagerly complied, your lips wrapping around his hardening shaft. You took him as deep as you could, bobbing your head up and down, your tongue running along the underside of his length.

As he pulled his dick from your mouth, a trail of saliva connecting your lips to the throbbing member, Johnny took the opportunity to belittle and degrade you, exactly as the script called for, but also because he wanted to, your submission made his feel weak in the knees so much excitement.

"-You worthless bitch, you thought you could handle a celebrity like me? Please, you're nothing but a desperate cocksucker, begging for validation." -Johnny said in a growl, as he pushed his dick down your throat, making you roll your eyes and gasp in pleasure, he slapped your cheek lightly, the sting sending shivers of pleasure through your body. His commanding presence filled the set, catching your attention.

"-Look at you boy, on your knees, all wet and desperate, that's all you're good for, isn't it? A filthy little toy..." -Johnny spoke between hoarse moans, his hair short and combed. His hair was now slightly messy, with the front strand coming and going, disconnected from the others, shining in the light, his face was one of pure pleasure, as he pushed it to the limit of his mouth, leaving a trail of saliva and cock juices. As the scene reached its climax, Johnny's grip on his hair tightened, his voice husky with need.

"-You better suck me dry, (Y/N). Drain every drop from my pulsing cock. Do it now."

You took him deep into your throat, your relentless sucking and swirling tongue pushing him over the edge. He moaned, his body tensing as he spilled his hot cum down your throat.

"-You're doing so well my boy... such a good little slut, taking my cock like the obedient toy you are." -Johnny praised, his voice a sultry mix of pleasure and dominance.

With a final sigh, he pulled away, his chest heaving with the effort.

"-Good job, beautiful boy." -He spoke hoarsely, his lips curled into a satisfied smirk as he watched you gasp for air, his cock glistening with your saliva. The sight of your wet pussy, the embodiment of your desire, only fueled his own.

He brought his hand to your cheek, caressing it softly before delivering a sharp slap against your flushed skin. The sting sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, intensifying your arousal.

"-All eager and desperate, begging for more. And here I thought you were just a delicate pretty boy. But oh, how wrong I was."

Johnny pushed you gently onto the floor, your back against the cool surface as he towered over you. With a firm grip on your chin, he directed your gaze to his hard cock.

"-Look what you did to me your mouth was so delicious, sucking me like the desperate slut you are." -he hissed through clenched teeth. As he spoke, he stroked his cock, spreading the pre-cum over the glistening head. His voice was rough and demanding as he continued, your eyes boring into his.

"-You awakened something in me..." -He confessed, with a voice hoarse with desire, there was a twinkle in his eyes, something intimate, as if he were looking into the depths of his soul, as if he wanted to tell you something.

"-I want to see how much of a filthy whore you can be. I want to fuck you senseless and make you scream my name... Fuck (Y/N), look how wet you are, craving my touch..."

Johnny pulls your face hard again, he looked like an animal hungry for you, you looked like his prey at that moment.

"-And remember, bitch, this was all your choice. Your pretty little body was practically begging for my touch from the moment I laid eyes on you, now spread those legs and expose that pussy to me, I'm going to fuck you like the fucking dick-desperate boy you are." -Cage spoke loudly to you, but that made you wet even more, opening them for him to see, the light from the set warmed his body temperature even more, while the floor was soiled by the wetness of your pussy.

the sight of your wet, exposed entrance drove him to the brink of madness. Johnny could practically taste your arousal in the air and was eager to claim your.

"-Such a greedy little bitch, You're just a filthy idiot, ready to take anything I give you, a pretty face like yours is made for fucking, for getting dirty."

With one swift movement, Johnny positioned himself between your spread thighs, his cock pressing against your dripping entrance. Anticipation electrified the air as he teasingly rubbed the tip into your folds.

"-You're a naughty little boy with the most delicious pussy." -Without a hint of hesitation, he thrust his hips forward, entering you with a force that made you gasp and moan.

"-Fuck, you're so tight, so fucking perfect for me." -Johnny started with slow, teasing thrusts as he savored their beautiful, needy expressions beneath him. His hand came down over your exposed ass, leaving behind burning heat as he pounded you mercilessly. The mix of pleasure and pain took you to new heights, your body trembling under his touch, and he loved it, he was obsessed with you, how you reacted so well to his touch, how you wanted him.

As you swallowed him whole in your pussy, Johnny's voice became hoarse as fine beads of sweat fell from his skin onto his.

"-Fuck, your pussy feels amazing boy, so wet and tight around me. I've never experienced anything like it." -He spoke with a smirk, as he enjoyed the feeling of your smooth, velvety walls around his pulsing shaft, you could see his defined abdomen contract with each stronger thrust into your pussy, like Adam's inch elevated in his throat, rising and falling with each involuntary swallow of saliva that Johnny took.

"-You're such a filthy, needy little slut, you want my cum, don't you? You want to be filled with me, marked by me." -Johnny continued, as he kissed you with force and desperation, your tongues fought for control, as he continued to thrust deeper and harder into your pussy, the tip of his dick hitting your uterus countless times, making you scream his name, echoing off the walls of the film set.

"-You're nothing but a cum-hungry whore (Y/N), a pretty little face that hides all your desires, such a beautiful little boy exposing himself as a porn actor? Damn baby I was lucky to catch you on my debut in this world."

You see him stand up, taking you with him with ease, strong muscles flexing against Johnny's skin, heading towards the luxurious sofa in the living room, with a smug smile, he positioned you on top of his erect member, allowing the camera to capture every moment, he wrapped his arm around your neck, applying gentle but firm pressure, as Johnny thrust up into you, his other hand found its way to your clit, working the sensitive bundle of nerves relentlessly, with the intensity built, the room filled with the sounds of your combined moans, mingling with the click of the camera capturing your every movement.

"-Give it to me (Y/N), take my cock. Take it all, and when we're done, I'm going to make you mine in ways you've never imagined." -Cage's grip tightened around your waist as he felt the walls of your pussy clench around his throbbing member, the power dynamics between the two of you were intoxicating, the chemistry palpable as pleasure surged through your bodies.

"-Fuck, be my good boy, cum for me now. Show me how much you enjoy being my obedient slut."

Johnny's fingers dipped into your wetness, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he brought them to your lips.

"-Taste yourself, suck my fingers like it's my fucking dick (Y/N) be a good boy for me."

As you obediently sucked and licked his fingers, Johnny couldn't help but praise you. "-Such a good slut, You know how to please daddy, don't you?" -he murmured, his voice smug and satisfied.

Johnny continued to thrust into you, his movements growing more powerful and urgent, with every stroke, every moan of pleasure, he drove himself closer to the edge.

"-I'm almost there my boy, but first, I want to see that pretty face of yours coated in my cum. Are you ready for it, my sweet little boy?"

Johnny Cage's sighed in satisfaction as he watched you weakly stand, your body still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm. He wasted no time, quickly positioning himself between your spread legs, ready to claim your body once again.

"-You're such a filthy little slut, taking my load like the insatiable whore you are."

He thrust a few more times into your sensitive pussy, relishing in the way you moaned and whimpered under him. His words grew even dirtier: "-Absolutely stunning... the camera loves you, (Y/N), And so maybe I do."

As he pulled out, his cum spilled over your body, painting you in his dominance. Johnny hand greedily worked his length, ensuring that every last drop was released onto his skin.

"-That's right, my sweet little boy. Take every drop of my cum. Let it coat your belly, your breasts, your pretty little pussy. You're marked by me now." -Johnny said, sighing heavily, his muscular chest rising and falling, while he used his fingers to spread all his seed over your stomach and pussy, massaging the soft and sensitive edges of your hole, while the camera stopped recording, the director of a positive sign to you both, but Johnny doesn't move away from you, just bending down and whispering in your ear:

"-You were incredible, my little slut, but our fun doesn't end here. Oh no, we're just getting started."

[paradiseprincesss]

OMG OMG OMG. now i KNOW you aren’t taking requests. but im helping you out with your cillian story. reader is having an affair with cillian, they meet either on set or at an awards show and she’s whipped for him. but he just won’t leave his toxic wife. all to the song fantasize by ariana 🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️

fantasize - cillian murphy x reader

masterlist

notes: thank you to my pookie @ilovetoxicfictionalmen for helping me with the idea of this entire thing she served and she did not come to play i love her - okay so this is my first actual cillian fic and lowkey i was nervous to post it but slay? this is lowkey based off the ariana grande scandal lol and also completely based off fantasize by ariana grande (unreleased). also sorry if theres any mistakes i edited it but i got lazy like halfway through lmaoo

summary: cillian falls for a young, talented singer who finds out he's married, and she gives him an ultimatum; either get a divorce and then she'll give him a chance, or don't ever talk to her again because she's not that kind of girl. after nearly a year of not speaking, news breaks that he's divorced his wife - and suddenly, he shows up to her home in los angeles begging for her love because he can't seem to forget about her.

word count: 9.1k

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, cheating/affair, divorce, age gap (unspecified but reader is early 20's and cillian is 47), fingering, p in v, general smut obviously, pining (a tad bit), pathetic desperate cillian, cillian doesn't have kids in this au

"over here!"

"one more, just look here for a second, gorgeous!"

"are you going to be performing tonight?"

"when is the album dropping?"

the cameras flashed in your pretty face, and the reporters and paparazzi continued to yell out questions and take pictures of you as you walked down the carpet in a rush to get inside.

tonight was the oscars - it was a pretty big deal in hollywood, and as an a-list singer, you were invited to attend of course. yes, you were fresh onto the scene, so young you had barely finished high school by the time your name was being plastered in the tabloids, but now a few years later, you were a household name. your voice captured the hearts of many, and you were ever so grateful for your adoring fans.

after the release of your debut album, your fame skyrocketed. barely entering into your twenties, you already had multiple musical awards ranging from ama's to grammy's. there wasn't a person alive who didn't know your name. not only were you a talented singer who's voice hit octaves that could shatter glass, but you were a beauty icon.

with your iconic sense of style and that gorgeous face of yours, you weren't hard to miss. everything down to the last detail about you had many swooning, including some of the biggest names in hollywood. tonight, you wore a stunning, black, sultry gown custom made by vera wang herself, and matching black pumps that were from valentino. your stylist absolutely delivered on your hair and makeup so tonight - all eyes were on you.

you were rumoured to be performing at the oscars this year. the rumours had started to circulate a few weeks prior with fans getting all amped up about a possible performance from you. however, tonight you were just there to attend and look stunning on the carpet, as well as maybe catch up with some of your fellow celebrity friends. you weren't the type to step out onto every red carpet, so when you did, you made headlines.

as you stepped away from the flashing lights and the buzzing reporters, you finally made your way into the venue where the oscars were being held. this year, they had set things up a little differently than they usually did. most of the time, it was like a theatre of some kind. rows and rows of seating like you would see in the movie theatres, but this year, they switched it up. instead of the normal seating arrangements, they had cloth covered round tables with name plates.

your team got you seated at a table quite close to the front; the venue was already pretty much fully packed once you got inside, actors and singers alike were all mingling with each other. tonight, you were seated at a table with a few other young singers and talented individuals - billie eilish and olivia rodrigo being two of them.

"you look amazing." billie said to you as soon as she noticed you, and olivia looked up from her phone with a smile. "you totally do, i love this dress on you!" olivia agreed sweetly.

"oh my gosh, look at you two, though!" you say, excitedly catching up with two of your closest friends in the business. the three of you continued chatting for a while amongst yourselves, and billie pointed to the table diagonally across from yours.

"dude, cillian murphy is sitting over there - holy shit." she laughs, and you and olivia peek over at the table billie gestured to.

there at a table sat the cast of oppenheimer, and even for someone as famous as yourself - you were starstruck at the sight of him. he was undeniably gorgeous...and definitely way too old for you. you were aware that cillian was a very private guy, never really stepping out into the public eye other than to act or do a quick interview every now and then, but seeing him in person had your head spinning. he was even better looking in person than any photos that you'd ever seen of him.

as you, billie, and olivia stared at the seasoned actors and actresses seated across from you, cillian glanced over - and all three of you looked away, feeling like silly, teenage school girls. "shit," you giggle, "that's embarrassing."

"awkward." billie laughed, and olivia laughed along with the two of you. the topic of conversation switched quickly, and the three of you continued to talk about everything under the sun. eventually, the lights started to dim and the room started to go quiet as the host stepped out on stage. you'd never been to the oscars before, only other award shows, so you were watching in awe as this was your first year attending.

throughout the award show, you stole little glances at cillian; he was mesmerizing, and his blue eyes were truly breathtaking. halfway through the award show, cillians name was announced and he accepted an oscar for his performance in oppenheimer. you applauded along with the rest of the crowd, and he did his little acceptance speech before joining the rest of the cast back at his table.

while he stood up there, you couldn't help but notice how perfect he was - not a flaw existed on this man. as you watched him with hearts in your eyes, you almost felt your heart leap out of your throat as the two of you made eye contact for just a second. however, he quickly returned his gaze to something else, almost looking flustered to have looked your way.

afterwards, cillian and the rest of the cast all did a little cheers to his award. they put their champagne glasses down and continued to watch the host on stage. whilst many talented actors and actresses went up to claim their oscars, your eyes were focused on something else - rather, someone else.

you couldn't help but keep looking over at the older man across from you; nobody in hollywood had truly captured your attention the way he did. love at first sight, perhaps. sure, your sweet personality and jaw-dropping beauty had many a-list men and women swooning, but you never felt inclined to date someone in the same industry as you - they usually had a reputation. there was always something wrong with them, whether they were substance addicts or a serial cheater; you didn't want to stick around and find out.

your heart rate spiked when those stunningly blue eyes you'd been staring at all evening suddenly locked with yours once more, and you looked away hastily, out of both sheer embarrassment and awkwardness from being caught staring. you immediately started to pay attention to the award show, not daring to glance back over at his table. after the host wrapped up the show, everyone got ready to head to the oscars afterparty.

you made your way to the venue with billie and olivia, along with some other young women your own age, and headed straight to the bar. you ordered a cosmopolitan, then another, and then one more. after socializing and drinking, you went to one of the many tables scattered across the room. sitting down, you sigh and sip on your third cosmo of the night.

"excuse me," an smooth, irish accent came from beside you, "d'you mind if i join you?"

looking up in awe, you see none other than cillian murphy himself - looking handsome as ever in his suit - standing with a glass of whiskey in his hands. you felt at a loss for words, but nodded and swallowed. "not at all." you say, gesturing for him to sit.

"i'm sorry," he laughs softly, "i had to come over and say hi. i'm actually a bit of a fan. i watched your performance at the grammy's a few months ago - you're incredibly talented. you have a beautiful voice."

as he tells you this, you felt your jaw drop. cillian murphy, the man himself, thought you were talented? you look at him with an adoring smile, and nod as you took everything that he said in. if you were being honest; you didn't think he even knew who you were.

"that means, like, so much coming from you. i saw oppenheimer and your portrayal of him was amazing. everything you do is...amazing." you gush, and he smiles bashfully. honestly - you found it quite endearing that he was even approaching you and talking to you like this; wasn't he well known for being so reserved and frankly, a little shy or even awkward?

"ah, i appreciate that." he smiles softly, "it's admirable how successful you are - especially for someone so young."

you bit your lip as he mentioned your youthfulness, feeling both mentally and physically weak in the presence of this man. you felt your head spinning; was this really happening right now?

you shrug, trying to play it off as cool as possible. "i appreciate that, truly." you say softly, looking at him with the same starstruck expression as before.

he was quiet for a good minute, taking in your every detail. you noticed his eyes lingered to the dip in your dresses neckline, before speaking again in his gorgeous irish accent.

"m'sorry, you must get this all the time, but you're absolutely stunning." he says casually.

you thought you'd misheard him at first when he said those words. this was cillian murphy of all people - and he was casually throwing out compliments to you. not to mention he was more than twice your age; it was almost morally wrong. almost, but it seemed that neither of you seemed to care about that. not that you really should, anyway.

"t-thank you! i think that, um, you're..." you stammer out, but trail off. you were three drinks in, a little past tipsy, and so utterly starstruck by him that you couldn't muster up the courage to tell him how attractive you found him.

he seemed to understand your nervousness, and gently, he placed one of his hands on your upper thigh with a soft laugh. "nerves?" he asks sympathetically, and you nod your head, laughing along with him. "it's your first time at the oscars, right?"

"yeah," you confess with a smile, "sometimes, i feel like i'm still not used to the whole 'celebrity' thing."

"understandable, you're s'young. it only makes sense." he tells you, once again reminding you of how young you were in comparison to him, whilst his hand was literally resting on your thigh. "if you want, we could go back to my hotel room to chat. you know, to ease your nerves if crowded rooms aren't your thing."

you almost had to stop yourself from fangirling out loud, and with a small nod and a soft smile, you take him up on his offer. "y-yeah, okay. sure."

you were almost certain that he wasn't taking you back to his hotel room for the sake of rescuing you from your social anxiety, but you let it slide. i mean, he's cillian murphy - you'd let just about anything he did slide.

he softly took your hand in his, walking you out to the exit with him, and a few people glanced over in surprise. you tried to pay them no mind, but you knew how it must've looked to others. cillian and you got into his car with his driver, and the both of you headed back to his hotel. once the two of you got to his room, he closed the door behind him and threw his suit jacket over the back of the couch.

you stood there a little awkwardly, mostly because you were so nervous, but also because you'd never been this close with a man so much older than you before. cillian made his way over to you, and softly put his hand on your waist, his thumb trailing little circles over the fabric of your dress.

"is this okay?" he asked softly, and you nodded.

"mhm." you answer, looking up into those striking blue eyes of his.

his other hand trails up your spine, and then to the back of your neck, running his hands through your hair gently. softly, he pulled you closer, closing the gap between the two of you. you were in shock; but you kissed back. it was electrifying. here you were, standing in cillian murphy's hotel room, kissing him. you thought that surely you were dreaming.

the two of you continued to share a few more kisses which then turned into making out, and suddenly you were laying back on his bed with him on top of you. he continued to kiss you deeply, hands roaming all over your body until something seemingly got stuck in a loose thread on your dress. as you both pulled away hesitantly, you noticed something on his hand gotten stuck on that loose thread - a ring.

and no, it wasn't just some regular old ring, and surely not one just to accessorize. the gold band shone on his ring finger, and you saw it for what it was - a wedding ring. you looked down at the ring, and then back at him. how could you have not seen it before?

it seemed in this moment, he knew he'd fucked up as he cleared his throat and started to stumble over his words.

"i-it's not-" he tried to explain, "i'm leaving her."

you looked at him in shock, and in the heat of the moment, you pushed him off of you with a scoff. "you're married?" you ask angrily, "are you fucking kidding me?"

"yes, but-" he tried to interject, but you weren't having it.

"that's disgusting," you spat, "have some respect, jesus christ."

you were already getting up from the bed, grabbing your purse from the kitchen counter as your designer heels clicked against the wooden floors. everything went south so quickly; from when you met to how you ended up in his bed, making out - it was all just one big blurry mess to you now. you didn't know he was married, and if you did, you never would have accepted his offer to come back to his hotel room - let alone let him put his hand on your thigh.

"wait, please-" he begged, following you as you collected your things, "i can explain."

"really?" you asked sarcastically, "you can explain how you're married, yet you decided to take a woman less than half your age to your hotel room?"

"yes," he exasperated, "i'm leaving her, i swear. we're getting a divorce."

you scoffed, this wasn't the first time you'd heard this excuse. hollywood men were sleazy. this was a known fact, and you'd lost count of the amount of men who had slid into your dms telling you that they were getting a divorce or leaving their woman for you. it's not like you ever replied or cared to give in, but still - you knew what they were like.

cillian knew what he was saying was wrong on so many levels - but he couldn't stop himself when it came to you. within seconds of seeing you, you drove him wild. you were a type of beauty he'd never seen before, someone you just feel instantly drawn to.

"well," you say, after a riviting moment of silence, "we'll see about that." you turned to grab the door handle with your purse thrown over your shoulder.

cillian suddenly reached out to grab your arm out of instinct, not willing nor ready to let you go just yet. "please," he sighed, "please - just give me a chance." he said, feeling extremely pathetic for begging like this.

you stayed silent and shot him a stern look, and he took this as his opportunity to continue whatever tangent he was already on. "i'm trying to divorce her as quick as i can but it's just so complicated" he explained, "you're just so gorgeous, fuck, and you're- you're everything i want- no, need."

you stayed quiet for another few seconds, once again trying to process what was coming out of this mans mouth.

"listen," you sigh, "i don't mess with married men, i'm not that kind of girl - but if you actually go through with that divorce - if you're genuinely serious about that, then maybe we can talk."

and with that, you pushed his arm off of you, stepping out of his hotel room and slamming the door behind you. as much as you wanted him to be yours - you knew it was wrong. you were meant to be on your own, not with a man who was married to another woman. what kind of woman would that make you if you were to let something happen between the two of you? you could never do anything like that. i mean, you would but, you were just too nice - and too hot.

you found his driver outside of the hotel, and you told him to drive you back to your hotel. that night, you took a steamy shower to try and clear your mind - but you couldn't shake the thought of him. usually, you paid no mind to any men, married or not, but if you were being honest; you couldn't stop fantasizing about cillian.

you couldn't help but think of him in all the wrong ways while you were laying in bed. you didn't even know why. that night, you had trouble falling asleep, your mind was far too occupied by fantasies of what it would be like to be his. this was only the beginning of such fantasies that would play out in your head for many months to come, but you didn't stop yourself from imagining them.

you'd fantasize about him all the time. if he was yours, you'd give him every part of you, nine to five and five to nine. your life hadn't been the same since you met him. sure, you hated it at first but soon, those little fantasies started to fuel you. you knew he was crazy about you, too. he'd even create little burner accounts to stalk your social media to see what you were doing - but you never wanted to give off the impression that you felt the same. at least, not yet you didn't.

it had been a hectic last few months with all the award shoes and red carpets that came after the oscars, but now you had some downtime. award season was over, and that meant you had more free time to stay out of the public eye and work on your second album, which you were excited to share. however, there was another small reason why you chose to stay out of the public eye.

photos of you and cillian, hands intertwined, had leaked to the media. apparently, the two of you in your inebriated states didn't notice some fans lingering around the area hoping to catch a glimpse of some celebrities. those people snapped some photos of the two of you, and then sold them to multiple media outlets.

the backlash was what you expected - sort of. the media had painted you to be the innocent one in this scandal, and rather cillian the one in the wrong. to be fair, that's what the truth was anyways, but you were glad that in this day and age, you had the internet backing you up and not ripping you to shreds. there were multiple articles talking about how "cillian murphy, 47, tried to take advantage" of you and how he was straying from his wife for "someone who was more than two decades younger."

you were pretty silent on social media for a while, and you only got around to updating and posting like you normally did just last week. the comments scared you as you weren't sure what people would have to say, but everyone was surprisingly supportive of you. there were minimal to no comments about the whole cillian murphy scandal, and things seemed to have died down just as quickly as they started.

now, a few months later after those pictures head leaked - cillian was still with his wife who he claimed he was "divorcing." you knew that it was most likely a front, but deep down; a part of you wished he had gone through with it, and even worse - you wished you had gone through with throwing caution to the wind and having your way with him that night. as wrong as it was, you felt your heart aching at the thought of him. sure, you were young and you didn't really know what love was, but you were pretty certain that this. was. it.

you wanted to know so badly why he was still with her, he was clearly not happy and had wandering eyes, so why was he still staying? it was a puzzle to you, and you felt yourself overthinking the simple question constantly, often letting it consume your daily thoughts. cillian wished he could tell you why, but he knew it would sound shallow. if he was being honest - he didn't love his wife. maybe at first when they got married when he was your age he did, but definitely not anymore.

their love had grown stale, and it's not like he really had a reason to stay faithful anymore besides his morals, but those morals didn't do him any good whenever he thought of you or better yet, saw pictures of you. him and his wife didn't share any kids together thankfully, and he often found himself zoning out every time they spent time with one another; his thoughts going to you instead. his wife had indeed seen the pictures of the two of you, but she was determined to let it go. apparently, the two of them were going to marriage counselling for it.

you scoffed at the idea when you read an article about it because you thought it was ridiculous. there was no point saving a man who didn't want to be saved, it would never work. but of course, you kept this all to yourself - you didn't want to give off the impression that you were okay with being the other woman because you weren't. shamelessly, you would constantly search his name up on social media or online to see any articles with updates about his marriage - and yeah, you were aware how bad that habit had gotten.

your fantasies were vivid, the memory of his hands trailing up and down your body on repeat in your mind all the time. the feeling of his lips pressed up against yours on that one, fateful night - you couldn't forget it. but that's the thing, as much as you wanted him and so desperately craved him - if he wouldn't leave her, you knew you couldn't force him to. you weren't going to wait forever, especially for a married man, and cillian knew that if he let you go, he'd come to regret it for the rest of his life.

his wife could tell. she knew that his mind was always going back to the thought of you - she could see it in the way he was acting towards her now, the way he touched her, the way he spoke to her - it almost seemed like he would try and pretend that she was you.

"honey, i don't know why you're so upset." cillian calmly explained to his wife, who was currently shouting at him in their shared home in dublin.

"you aren't even trying, cillian! it's like you don't care anymore - after over two decades of marriage you're just done?!" she screeched at him, and he rolled his eyes in frustration.

"oh, come on," he groaned, "don't be like that."

"oh, really? like i'm the one who had an affair with someone less than half my age." she sneered, and he knew that technically, she was right. she hadn't cheated on him, but he did cheat on her.

"were going to marriage counselling for it, i don't understand why you're so mad at me! i told you, we didn't even go past kissing." he huffed, and his wife was seconds away from losing it.

"how does that make it any better?" she yelled, "i know you still think about her, cillian. i went through your god damn phone! i saw the accounts you made to see what shes been posting. i know you wish that it was her in bed with you at night, sleeping by you. i saw the way you were looking at her in those pictures!"

cillian went silent at the bomb that his wife just dropped - and he couldn't even deny it anymore. of course he wished it was you in bed with him at night, and yes; if he had it his way, you'd be in her place instead. he imagined what a life with you could be like; the two of you living in a quiet, little suburban house with a few pets, and a beautiful garden - and you with a wedding ring on your finger, not his wife who he stopped loving years ago.

"you're thinking of her again, aren't you?" his wifes voice brought him out of his thoughts, and he looked at her as she had tears in her eyes.

"don't cry, please-"

"do you even love me anymore?" his wife sobbed quietly, interjecting. he sighed, staying silent, and she continued to speak to him through her tears. "i think it's best if you get it out in the open - maybe you hoped i wouldn't notice, but i've been married to you for over twenty years. i know you, cillian."

with a sigh, he looked down in shame. he couldn't bring himself to say anything, it seemed that his words got stuck in his throat at this very moment.

"your silence is enough of an answer," she said quietly, "but tell me cillian, you owe it to me after all you've put me through - do you love her?"

"i-i don't know i-" he stammered, knowing full well what the truth was; he did love you. he fell in love the moment he laid eyes on you. he fell in love with your youth, your radiance, your beauty, everything about you made this man weak. he'd barely known you for an hour and yet, he could confidently say that he loved you.

"you do know," his wife murmured, "you and i both know."

"well maybe i do," he whispered, "i can't change how i feel."

"twenty years, cillian! does that mean nothing to you?" she yelled, her rage apparent now.

"what do you want me to fucking say?" he spat back, knowing full well he was in the wrong here; but all his morals went out the window at this point, "i can't undo what i've done, and i'm sorry, okay? i'm sorry, but i also can't change the way i feel about her!"

"what's wrong with you? i don't even know who you are anymore!" she screamed at him, and now both of them were going back and forth, the argument escalating at an alarming rate.

"i don't care!" he shouted back, making his wife angrier.

"so, what now?" she screamed, "d'you want to get a divorce? is that what you want?"

"you know what? yes! in fact, i've wanted one since before i even met-"

"don't say her name." his wife spat, and that pushed cillian over the egde.

"i'm getting the divorce papers by the end of the week, and you're going to fucking sign them, i'll tell you that much." he seethed, and his wife started to throw whatever she could at him in a blind rage. as cillian ducked away from a dish being hurled at him, he decided to get one last dig in. "oh, by the way - i knew from the moment i met her, i'd much rather that she have my last name instead of you."

when you read the article titles and news headlines, you felt your heart drop.

"oppenheimer star cillian murphy and his wife have seemingly split - here's what we know."

you quickly wash down your glass of wine, and put your phone down in disbelief. you felt the guilt sink in slowly, and it made you want to cry; you couldn't help but feel like this was your fault. that you destroyed a marriage, and you had taken a man from another woman. you knew if that even if you weren't a hundred precent of the reason they divorced, you were at least a part of it. you were sure of that.

when you found out about his apparent divorce, you were shocked to say the least; you had finally come to terms with how he was probably never going to have the guts to leave her, and that was okay with you now. you didn't want to get dragged into a messy scandal, you were okay with letting him do what he wanted - he wasn't yours to keep, anyway.

up until now, he just didn't have the heart to leave her, as the media would think he'd only left her because he got the fame, and now he wanted some young, hollywood beauty. sure, it was partially true that he had left her for a younger woman that he so desperately wanted, but they didn't know how much he loved you. the media didn't know how badly he needed to have you.

and now that you were in the picture, those rumours would look like they were true - and it would be an absolute mess. the media would eat it up. so now, to force yourself to try and move on, you were talking to a bunch of other guys, but they just weren't him.

today, you were at another event where you were currently sitting at the bar, waiting for your favourite cocktail; a cosmopolitan after your second glass of wine. tonight, you needed it more than ever. this was a huge event, as you were one of the biggest stars attending, along with some other big names in hollywood. you heard about who else was going to be there, and cillian's name was included in that conversation. you felt stupid for thinking he wasn't going to be there, his fame had skyrocketed after oppenheimer - of course he'd be there.

tonight, you made waves as you walked the red carpet in your stunning, custom made gown by none other than donatella versace herself with the perfect mix of accessories and matching heels. you looked dolled up.

oh, and you also came with another man. that's right; you walked the carpet with your rumoured new boyfriend, evan peters.

when people saw the two of you step out onto the carpet together, they lost their minds. evan was quite a bit older than you, but still - he was a little over ten years younger than cillian. once the two of you were posing for pictures as the flashing lights consumed your vision, he wrapped his arm around your waist and kissed your cheek softly. the photographers were eating this up; and they were shouting your name left and right, along with various questions.

"over here, look over here!"

"how long have the two of you been together?"

"did you have an affair with cillian?"

"what happened with cillian murphy?"

"did you hear about cillians divorce?"

the questions were progressively getting more invasive, and the two of you stepped into the venue of the event, wanting a break from the cameras and flashing lights. evan headed to the bar with you, but excused himself for a moment.

of course, the moment you were alone, you saw cillian, along with some other cast members from oppenheimer, walk in. you recognize pretty much all of them right away, and you do your best to look unengaged and pretend that you didn't even notice him.

cillian saw you instantly, but before he could even say anything or go over to you - he saw your new man return to the bar, wrapping his arms around you from behind and placing a soft kiss on your cheek. in that moment, he thought he could actually feel his heart being ripped into two, but he kept his composure and smiled at his cast-mates happily.

"another drink already?" evan teased, a smile on his face, "everything alright?"

"mm, yeah. everything is fine." you say cheerfully, even though deep down your heart was hurting at the fact that the man now sitting in front of you wasn't the man that you were in love with. "i just get a little overwhelmed at these events, you know that."

"right, i'm sorry." he says softly, taking your hand into his. "you look gorgeous tonight, sweetie."

the way he complimented you and the environment you were in felt all too familiar, and flashbacks of your night with cillian came flooding back into your mind. you mentally shook them right out of your head for the night. you didn't want to hurt your own feelings again, so for the remainder of the night, you avoided him and stuck by evans side.

cillian on the other hand thought he was going crazy. did you see the news articles about his divorce? were you in love with someone else? did you even think about him?

the following weeks had gone by in a blur as you were currently promoting the anticipated release of your upcoming album, and things were going so well for you - but you felt empty inside. you thought you were losing it, driving yourself insane over a married (well, no longer) man who you'd kissed for a few minutes in a hotel room.

two weeks ago, you broke it off with evan. you were certain it wasn't going to work, he was such a sweet guy and you knew he deserved someone else because your heart didn't belong to him. it belonged to cillian as much as you didn't want it to.

what was it with you and this man?

after breaking it off with evan, you debated texting cillian. perhaps it was just bad timing and now that he was divorced, things could work. maybe you just needed a little time apart just so that you could make your way back to each other. as you picked up your phone to try and muster up a text, you opened your social media to see that tmz had a new article up:

"cillian murphy and estranged ex-wife seen out together in dublin - what does this mean for the former couple?"

and below, there were pictures of him and his ex-wife walking side by side on the streets of ireland, and a few pictures of them in a little cafe together, seemingly just talking - but this was enough to drive you up the wall. you were done; you were out the door, and he was out of chances.

bye.

if he couldn't make up his mind, you would make up yours. opening your text messages, you scroll down to his contact. it had been months since the whole oscars incident, and neither of you had ever talked after that - he didn't even reach out to you after his divorce. so, you figured that this was just a waste of time; maybe it was best to move on from the fantasies in your head.

and with that, you blocked his number and tried not to let your anxiety consume you. to be honest, you were sort of hoping that maybe things would've worked out between the two of you; it felt like it was meant to be - but now you weren't too convinced.

currently, cillian was cooped up inside of a hotel room down in los angeles and he knew that you'd most likely seen the pictures, everyone had at this point. he tried to message you for the first time since the hotel room fiasco, but as he tried to explain it to you, his texts kept going green - you'd blocked his number. he tried calling, but the line just went dead each time.

the pictures were taken so out of context, but how would you know that? you wouldn't. in reality, cillian had agreed to meet up with his ex-wife as they were supposed to talk about divorce settlements. that was all. the two of them walked around, enjoying the sun as they tried to talk about it civilly. his estranged, and now ex-wife, took the whole situation surprisingly well.

sighing, he grabbed his car keys and his jacket, and got into his car while speeding recklessly down the freeway; his heart beating exhilaratingly. as he sped down the freeways of los angeles, he took a moment to appreciate the beauty of it all. the palm trees and the pink sunset - it reminded him of you. vibrant and beautiful. so young, so reckless, and so carefree.

as you were winding down for bed, you heard the doorbell of your beachfront property being rang repeatedly. in a state of confusion, you make your way downstairs and started wandering towards the front door. who the hell would be on your doorstep ringing your bell at such an hour? swinging the door open, you find cillian standing there like a pathetic, love-drunk fool.

"are you fucking kidding me?" you deadpan, looking at him with an expression that said the same thing as your words. after nine months he decided to show up at your doorstep? how did he know where you lived?

"i know," he began, "i know i look insane but i'm- jesus, i'm fucking crazy about you."

you stare at him wide-eyed, as this was not what you were expecting to see this evening. "cillian," you sigh, "i saw the pictures-"

"i can explain," he interjects, his voice laced with desperation, "please."

there he was; standing outside your house in the middle of the night, begging for you because he couldn't let you go. begging after he'd left his wife of twenty years for you.

"fine, just come inside. i don't want any more leaked pictures online." you grumble, opening the door fully so he could come in.

once he got inside, you closed the door behind the both of you, walking to your living room together. this was the first time in months that you'd actually talked - and even though you tried to deny it, your heart was racing at just the sight of him stood there, desperate for you. as you sat across from him on your couch, you looked at him silently, letting him say what he needed to.

"i'm so sorry for the mess that i've created." he said quietly.

"you should be." you respond cooly, trying not to let his words effect you in any way. you knew better.

"i know the last nine months have been insane," he says, looking at you with remorse, "but i mean, you can't deny what we have. i've never felt this way about anyone - i wouldn't have divorced my wife if i didn't think this was something worth fighting for."

you rub your temples, "cillian," you groan, "you can't be saying shit like that."

"why not?" he retaliated, making you scoff. "you told me to reach out to you once i was divorced and you'd maybe give me a chance. i'm doing what you asked me to, baby please-"

"don't baby me," you scoff, "you didn't tell me from the beginning that you were married. let's say i do forgive you, and we do this for real - how can i trust you?"

"i-i don't know, but i'll do anything i can to make this work." he pleaded, "i haven't stopped thinking about you since the day i met you."

"jesus, you're crazy." you groan, and to that he agreed.

"yeah, i know," he agreed, "m'fucking crazy about you."

you threw your hands up in defeat as if to say "well?" and he just looked at you in awe, his salt and pepper hair complimenting his gorgeous blue eyes. he continued to stared at you. he certainly wasn't trying to hide hide how attracted to you he was.

"the pictures of you and your ex-wife..." you said quietly, looking away from him, "i can't trust you, cillian."

"we were just talking about settlements," he said, "you know better than anyone how the media is; they blow shit out of proportion and take everything out of context. i swear that's all it was."

"you can't just show up like this..." you trail off, a frustrated sigh leaving your lips.

"is this because of your new guy or somethin'?" he huffs, and you roll your eyes at him. "no," you explain, "i'm not even seeing him anymore, we broke it off weeks ago."

"oh," he says, his eyes lighting up, "well, that's good to know."

it was silent for a moment, the two of you sitting there in each other's company, both lost in thought.

"why?" you ask suddenly, the question lingering in the tension filled air.

cillian looks at you confused, "what?"

"why does it have to be like this?" you ask, feeling the weight of your emotions bring you down. "why does it all have to be so complicated? why did you have to make it so complicated?"

"if this is about my marriage-"

"of course it's about your marriage!" you exclaim, your emotions getting the better of you, "i've spent the last nine months driving myself insane over you - god, i don't even know why. i feel this overwhelming guilt because of your divorce and-"

you pause, getting choked up as every last feeling from the last nine months decided to reign it's terror on you in that very moment with cillian sitting right across from you on your couch. every ounce of guilt that was compiled up inside of you, every bit of anger and resentment, and every negative emotion poured out from the depths of your slightly broken heart.

with teary eyes, you finally look at him again. "i feel like i wrecked your marriage, and i-i don't want to be that type of woman."

"you didn't wreck anything." cillian says, moving close to you as he placed a hand on you, rubbing your back soothingly. "i was in the wrong - i should have told you the truth. i should have done a lot of things differently. if i could go back in time, i would."

"but you can't!" you say as the tears start flowing, covering your face with your hands.

"i can't, no," he agrees, "but i'll change, i'll do anything for you."

"are you insane?" you shout at him with tears pooling in your eyes, "i don't know why you-"

"because i fucking love you, that's why." he said suddenly, looking you dead in the eyes as you both went silent.

"i'm sorry?" you ask in shock, meeting his gaze.

"because," he sighs, "i've fallen in love with you."

"you barely know me-"

"but i want to," he insists, moving closer to you. "just one chance, please."

looking up into his gorgeous blue eyes once more, you felt yourself go weak. he chased you down for months, left his wife for you, showed up at your doorstep - what more could he do to prove he was all in for you? with a trembling breath, he reaches his hand to softly cup your face, wiping your tears away with his thumb. his eyes search yours for any trace of a mutual feeling, for any indication that you might've wanted him as badly as he wanted you.

as he was leaning in, the gap between his lips and yours was getting smaller and smaller by the second. despite everything that was said in the last ten minutes, you didn't stop him. you didn't back away because deep down, you knew you needed him as much as he needed you. the pull between the two of you was unexplainable.

softly, he kissed you for the first time in nine months, and instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck. as you tangled your hands in his greying hair, he pulled you closer by your waist. while his tongue was exploring your mouth, you boldly get on top of his lap. straddling him, you run your hands in his hair once more and deepen the kiss.

"tell me you feel the same way, i know you do." he whispered against your lips, pulling away just enough so that he could get the words out.

"i feel the same, cillian." you confess in a breathless whisper, and he starts to pepper kisses down your neck, trailing them along to your collarbone.

"thought about you every fuckin' night," he murmured against your skin, "m'gonna cherish you, my love."

"i fantasized about you all the time." you admit out loud, grinding your hips down onto him.

you could already feel how hard he was underneath you, and you bit your lip at the feeling of his clothed cock pressing up against your cunt.

"mm, yeah?" he groaned, "tell me, sweet girl."

his hands took hold of your waist, helping you grind down on his lap. "i thought about y-you..." you whimpered, feeling yourself soak through your panties already.

"well, don't get shy on me now." he said lowly, his hands reaching up to squeeze your breasts, rolling your clothed nipples between his fingers softly. since you weren't wearing a bra, he had easy access.

with a soft moan, you try your best to answer him as his bulge rubbed against your cunt and his fingers tweaked your nipples, causing you to lose all inhibitions. "t-thought about your cock stretching me open," you confess, "and- f-fuck, i thought about you bending me over, making me scream all night."

"how about i help you live out those fantasies of yours, hm?" he growled, pulling you into a sloppy kiss.

as you melted into the kiss, he reached his hand down and slipped them past the waistband of your pyjama pants. he pushed your panties to the slide and let his fingers swipe through your soaked folds, making you moan into the kiss. the feeling of his fingers just simply brushing against you was heavenly, and you knew you needed more.

"you're fucking soaked, baby." he groaned, biting your lip softly between his teeth.

in an instant, he was pushing you down onto your couch. you shimmied your way out of your pyjama pants with his help of course, and he also assisted in pulling your panties down, too. as he tossed them to the side, you felt your heart palpitate at what was about to happen.

he gently inserted his middle finger into you at a slow pace, your slick walls clenching down on him from sheer neediness.

"that's a good fucking girl," he praised softly, "feels good, baby?"

"m-mmhm," you moaned, looking up at him as he hovered over you.

with one hand, he continued to play with your tits, tweaking the nipple between his fingers and with the other hand, he was fingering you gently. the act was so intimate yet sinful at the same time, it had your head spinning. the way he kept eye contact was driving you insane as you looked into his icy blue eyes.

slowly, he inserted a second digit into your drooling hole, your back arching at the intrusion and slight stretch. you let out a quiet moan, and he started to curl his fingers, fucking you with them faster and faster.

"let me hear those pretty moans, sweetheart," he cooed, "i wanna watch you as you cum on my fingers."

"f-fuck, right there-!" you whined, arching your back even further.

as he fucked you on his fingers rapidly, you could feel the coil in your stomach about to snap. as your slick walls clenched down on cillian's fingers, you moaned his name out over and over, feeling yourself drenching his hand.

"fuck, you're so pretty." he complimented, watching your reaction as you came undone on his fingers for him.

after your chest was heaving and you were left a panting mess, he pulled his fingers out gently. he helped you slip your pyjama top off, and you assisted him in undoing his belt buckle.

as he pushed his pants down, his cock sprung out. your mouth watered at the sight of it, needing nothing more than for him to be balls deep inside of your aching, needy cunt right now. he got on top of you hastily, stroking himself a few times before he lined himself up with you.

he teasingly brushed his pale, pink tip through your sticky folds as his pre-cum leaked out, and you whined with desperation.

"i fantasized about stretching you open on my cock." he admitted suddenly, biting down on his plush lips. "i thought about how you'd look with it buried deep inside, begging me to let you cum."

his vulgar words went straight to your core, and you looked up at him with a rosy hue covering the apples of your cheeks.

"show me," you whimpered, "make me beg to cum on your cock."

it didn't take much convincing before he suddenly pushed into your warm hole, stretching you out beyond belief. you could feel him fill you fully, and you almost choked on air at the sensation of his cock actually splitting you open like he promised. even though your cunt was dripping, he was still met with some resistance just from how tight you were around him.

"jesus, baby," he groaned, "what a tight fucking pussy."

"uh-huh, y-you're so big-" you squeak, and he started to move in and out at a fast pace, barely giving you time to adjust.

as his cock filled you fully, you swore you could feel him bulging in your stomach. his fat, veiny cock was reaching places you didn't even think were possible to reach, and places that his fingers certainly couldn't. he continued to push deeper inside of you with harsh thrusts, knocking the wind out of you each time his cock brushed up against that spongy spot inside of you.

you closed your eyes as your slick started to drip down onto the couch. you'd never been so soaked in your life. he tapped your cheek a few times, causing your eyes to flutter open. softly, he cupped your face with one hand while the other held an unwavering grip on your leg, lifting it up over his shoulder so he could fuck you even deeper.

"look at me, sweetheart," he commanded softly, making you clench on his cock. "oh," he noticed, "you like it when i talk to you like that, huh?"

you indeed liked when he talked like that - scratch that, you fucking loved it. he could feel you squeeze his cock with your dripping cunt each time he just spoke, his voice bringing you closer and closer to the edge once more.

"cill, i-i...fuck!" you screamed as his cock brushed up against that sensitive spot inside of you, causing you to suddenly lose all ability to speak properly.

"hm, sweetheart?" he cooed lovingly, but continued ramming into you ruthlessly.

your pussy was soaked and stretched, and as you kept your eyes on his - you watched him in awe. the way his pink lips were slightly parted, his salt and pepper hair disheveled, and his brow furrowed. it was driving you into a permanent state of euphoria.

"i love you," you gasped between breathless moans and incoherent begging, "so much."

your pupils were blown, staring up at him with such intensity he thought he was going to break right then and there.

"fuck, sweetie," he groaned, "i love you, too."

"i-i'm gonna cum, r-right there-" you begged him, "please, can i?"

"cum on my cock, cum right fucking now." he almost growled, pounding your tight, sopping cunt mercilessly. his pace never wavered, and he continued to fuck you into euphoria, studying you as you tipped over the edge from his thrusts.

with a groan, he came with you. he filled you with everything he had, fucking his cum so deep into your cunt you could almost feel him bruise your cervix. after his cock spurted the last bits of his cum into you, he was a panting, love-drunk mess propped up above you.

you were just as fucked out, smiling at him dopily while his cock remained buried inside of your warm walls. cillian brought his hand back up to your face, brushing a strand or two out of your face before placing a gentle kiss on your swollen lips.

"my love," he whispered, voice saccharine, "you are everything to me. everything."

"i adore you." you say softly, letting a heavy breath out.

"we'll make this work, i know we will. i just can't live a life without you in it." he tells you.

the crowd cheered, giving you a standing ovation as you finished your performance. you smiled bashfully and yelled "thank you new york!" into the microphone as the final show of your tour ended, and you waved goodbye to the thousands of fans in the arena.

rushing backstage after your show, you run into cillians arms and he hugs you tightly. he places a soft kiss on your head as you smile up at him sweetly, and looks at you with a proud expression on his face.

"you were amazing, love," he says softly, pulling you into his side as the two of you walk into your dressing room, "m'so glad i could join you for the last half of your tour. love watching you perform, s'amazing."

"oh, cill," you smile bashfully, "shush, you're too sweet."

"my lovely wife," he sighed, kissing you softly, "i'm just so proud of everything you've done."

you sigh blissfully as he holds your hands in his, and you head back to the hotel your staying at before your flight tomorrow morning. as your head hits the pillow, you feel exhausted and like you haven't slept in ages. cillian wraps his arms around you, spooning you as you turn off the light.

"goodnight, mrs. murphy." he whispers softly, holding you in his arms.

now you didn't have to fantasize about what it was like to be his anymore - he was all yours now, and you were all his. last name and all.

my taglist (join here!): @seaamonster @nocturnest @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones @futurefamousdeadmusician

@jonathancraneslittlepet @abigailinterrupted @kpopgirlbtssvt @ll4n4 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen

@the-buddy-things @ellebelleshelby @wiseyouthinfluencer @minedofmoria @aprilsfrog05

@strangeobsessed

[missnxthingg]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 - 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Lando Norris x Actress!Reader (Enemies to Lovers & Fake Dating AU) 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 - Lando Norris really messed up on the first time meeting one of Hollywood’s newest and hottest stars, Y/N L/N. But when his reputation gets too bad, she might be the only one who can save his career from being completely doomed. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 - 4.6K | 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - Swearing, mentions of sex, angst 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 - Very very sorry for the delay! Life was a mess and I needed to get things in order. It's coming to an end 🥺 last one will be the last chapter, but let's enjoy while it lasts. Also, this one is for all of us Lando girlies who love to see him succeed in Interlagos!

series masterlist | main masterlist | main blog | taglist

𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 - 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐃𝐎 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓

The morning after the fight was a rollercoaster of emotions for Y/N. She woke up feeling cold, the covers kicked to the bottom of the bed, and no one lying next to her. By now, waking up next to Lando felt familiar and too comfortable for her liking. She had grown fond of having him pressed against her every morning, his arms draped around her waist and his nose buried in her neck. It felt weird to not have him next to her when she opened her eyes. And then she remembered why he wasn’t there.

She really wished she could go back to sleep and pretend the previous night hadn’t happened.

Y/N wrapped herself around the covers once again and groaned, feeling almost like a truck ran over her body the previous night. She could blame it on the only margarita she had the night before, but she knew she could only blame the fight she had with Lando. The memories of them confessing their feelings for each other was almost too painful. It was killing them; and maybe it was for the best to call off their “relationship”, if they could even call it that.

As most days in November in Brazil, it was bright and sunny outside, but Y/N was convinced it was for the best if she stayed in for the entire day. Maybe she could catch up on her watching list on Netflix, order junk food and cry her heart out while no one was watching. After all, she was only required to go outside tomorrow, when her PR team asked her to accompany Lando to the paddock during media day.

She managed to not cry just fine so far that morning, but the universe was making it really hard to keep it together. If the emotions weren’t enough, Y/N found out that day that she was nominated for an Emmy Award. It was all over social media, with everyone congratulating her and posting clips of her performance on her latest show. Her phone was blowing up with calls and texts, but she didn’t have the energy to celebrate it.

Suddenly, it all felt too lonely. Y/N had just acquired the biggest conquest of her career, one that she has dreamed of her entire life, and she had no one to celebrate it with. The person she wanted to celebrate with the most was nowhere to be seen. So she cried alone in that hotel room, because there was nothing more she could do. She should’ve been out there celebrating that conquest, but she was weeping for the loss of Lando Norris, of all people in the world.

He wasn’t having the best days himself. After she left, Lando couldn’t bring himself to fall asleep even if he wanted to. He could only think about Y/N leaving their room crying after saying she didn’t trust him; after telling it all went wrong because he could only think about himself. All the work he did to try getting to her heart gone to waste, only because he forgot to apologize. 

After a couple of hours after finally getting some sleep, Lando was woken up by knocks on his door. Max had come for him after he didn’t answer his phone for the entire morning. His best friend understood what happened almost immediately when he opened the door, his eyes blood shot from crying too much. Lando sighed before crying more, feeling completely powerless with the situation he was trapped in.

“I fucked up”, Lando admitted, completely defeated. “And fuck, I love her so much. But she’s gone”.

Max tried to cheer him up, attempting to get the pieces back together before he was required to be on track, talking to countless journalists about his job. Lando didn’t want to talk about anything with anyone at that moment, only to Y/N if he could. In the end, with all the suffering he was going through, she was the only person he wanted to talk with to make it better.

“It’s not her fault. It’s my fault. All me. I’m always the problem”, he thought, all day. Everybody knows that Lando can get himself down a self depreciation hole, but now he actually knows it was all entirely his fault. So it was a little harder to get him out of there.

He heard of her Emmy nomination later that day, while they were waiting for breakfast at a bakery. Lando felt a boast of energy in his body, feeling so proud of his girl’s achievement. But when he remembered she didn’t want him there to celebrate it with her, he felt sad once again. He had to retreat back to his hotel room, because it was too painful to pretend nothing had happened while he was outside. People were starting to recognize him, and they could all see the sadness painted all over his face. He couldn’t do it anymore.

The first time Y/N and Lando met again after the fight was on the Thursday morning, as they were waiting for a car to pick them up at the hotel to drive them to the track. He felt uneasy to be around her, not getting to exchange a single world to her. She had grown into his best friend over the past couple of months, him always wanting to share everything with her all the time. So when she avoided his eyes like the plague, it hurt him too much.

Still, he wasn’t one to give up so easily. Lando approached her as she was distracted and said what he was dying to say the entire day. “Congratulations on your Emmy nomination. I’m very proud of you”, he kept his voice low, almost as if he was afraid to say those words. Y/N was looking away from him, but her eyes met his once she heard the words. It was as if she was trying to figure out if it was a figure of her imagination or if he was really saying it to her.

He finally got to see how bad she was as well. Lando knew her like the palm of his hand by then, so he could see that she was suffering too. But he saw a little bit of the light come back to her eyes with his words. But as much as she wanted to throw her arms around him and give him the tightest hug, she knew she had to be tough. So she toughened up and gave him the coldest response. 

“Thank you”, she nodded, looking the other way the second after. If Y/N stared into his eyes for too long, she would give into him. Only a few words from him were enough to ignite the fire on her heart once again.

“I would like to talk to you eventually”, he said, still facing only the side of her face. Lando watched her close her eyes and hold her breath. She was trying to not cry again. “If you want to, of course”.

“Not now, Norris”, she walked away without even looking him in the face.

It was hard to pretend everything was fine as they walked together in Interlagos, especially with the whole media surrounding them and ready to fire questions if they noticed something wrong. Luckily, since there was no racing happening, Y/N got to stay buried inside the McLaren motorhome until it was time to go back to the hotel once again.

Everybody noticed something was wrong, especially with the look on Lando’s face. His mood was so down that even Zak Brown noticed it. And judging by how Y/N hid herself in the McLaren hospitality until the whole thing was over, he put two and two together. He tried talking to Norris, but Lando kept assuring everything was fine. No one in the team, specially those who knew the relationship was fake, knew what was going on. How did the lovey-dovey couple go from posting cute pictures on social media to no talking in a couple of days?

Impressively enough, the whole thing that happened between Lando and Y/N didn’t affect his performance at all. He secured P2 in sprint qualifying and maintained the position on the sprint race. And if that wasn’t enough, he got pole position for the main race on Sunday. Yet, he couldn’t feel happy about it enough. None of that seemed to matter, because he couldn’t feel joy at all without Y/N.

He could’ve finished in any position – he could’ve won, for that matter – and he would still feel nothing. It hurt too much to receive nothing but an empty “congratulations” and a lifeless hug, just for the cameras to capture. Lando wanted to punch a wall, and he wanted to punch himself for what he did.

Later that day, when he was back at his hotel room with Max, Lando couldn’t control his crying anymore. He had been excellent at not bursting into tears through the past few days, but it was getting too hard to bottle in the feelings, especially when Y/N’s hands felt cold on his as they walked with fingers laced in public. His best friend had to hug him in order to hold him up and not crumble to the floor.

“Come on, mate. You need to stop crying and go get some rest for tomorrow”, Max pleaded, now having Lando sit down in his bed. “I know this whole thing is hard, but I can’t stand to see you this sad when you should be celebrating the perfect weekend you’re having”.

“I think I lost the love of my life, Max. So of course I’m crying”, Lando wiped off his tears, but they kept streaming from his eyes. “I can’t feel happy without her. She’s everything to me, and knowing I fucked her up makes me feel so stupid. I’m so fucking stupid to not apologize to her.  I did everything, but forgot the most important part of it all”.

“Have you tried apologizing again?”, Max asked and Lando nodded.

“I said I wanted to talk to her whenever she was up to talking, but she ignored me”, Lando sighed, throwing his back against the bed. “I would do anything to go back in time and fix this”.

“You don’t need to go back in time to fix this”, Max said. “Look, mate, she has admitted having feelings for you, right? So find the right words, put your pride aside and get her back”.

“You don’t know her. She is as hard-headed as I am. No simple apologize will make her forget the dickhead that I am”, Lando said. “And maybe I really don’t deserve her. She needs someone who has never treated her less than the amazing person that she is”.

“Lan…”, Max tried talking again, but his friend needed to vent more than hearing more advices.

“I would do anything to see her happy again, you know? It’s even worse to know she’s suffering too, because I can never get out of my head that it’s my fault. And I could make her so happy if she gave me another chance. I just know it”.

“I’m not the one who’s supposed to be hearing those words. Talk to her, tell her everything bottle inside you. This time, remember what I said: find the right words. And if it doesn’t work out, well… you already have nothing. You have to at least try”.

Lando went to sleep that night with Max’s words in his head. Months ago, he vowed he would do anything to make Y/N trust him, and he’s yet to try everything in his sleeves. There’s still one more chance, and he would take all the chances he had to have Y/N back.

When Sunday morning came around, Y/N felt almost hungover with the exhaustion from that week. She dragged herself out of bed for the fifth time that week and put on a sundress to enjoy the nice and warm weather outside. Then after breakfast, she waited at the meeting place in the hotel to get to the paddock, ready to put on her best acting and pretend everything was alright. Today would be crucial, because all the eyes would be on her and Lando through the main event of the weekend.

Through the night, before he fell asleep, Lando thought of a thousand ways to get Y/N to talk to him. And if she was finally going to listen to him, he knew what to say. But all his plans were lost when he saw her standing at the hotel lobby, waiting for the car to take them to the track. He thought of a lot of ways to approach her, but he simply rushed into her encounter. And as if their eyes were magnets, she turned to look at him just a few seconds before the collision. Before she could protest, Lando had her engulfed by his body.

She was taken by surprise with the action, but she was even more surprised to how her body reacted to it. Y/N immediately melted into his touch and let her arms around his shoulder, feeling her chest burning into flames and feeling easy to have him so close. She buried her face in his neck and let all the tears she was holding in for days finally fall in relief.

“I’m so sorry about everything”, he whispered in her ear, holding her a little tighter. “I have so much to apologize to you and the right words to say everything, but so little time right now. I don’t want to go one more second without talking to you, because it's been too much for me. I miss you, Y/N”.

“Lando”, she leaned back and looked between his eyes. Y/N could see how this entire thing has impacted him as well, and it hurt to see him hurt too. So she softly ran one of her thumbs though his cheek and smiled, tired of fighting.

“Y/N”, he encouraged, still too nervous with her response. But he felt a little better to see the smile on her lips once again.

 “Go in that car and win this race. For me”, she held his face between her hands and squeezed it carefully, assuring him that they were okay, at least for now. Lando was so happy that he pulled her back to the hug.

“For you, anything”, he kissed her forehead, knowing a proper kiss would be too far. “I promise that after the race, I have so much to talk to you about”.

“Don’t worry about it now, okay?”, she searched for his hands and gave it a squeeze. “We’ll talk later”.

Lando couldn’t let go off Y/N after that. They still were very quiet around each other, but it was a relief to have her hands laced with his all the time. Even better to have his arms wrapped around her as they cuddled in his driver’s room during his break. And you can bet he felt amazing when she pressed a kiss to his cheek before helping put on his balaclava.

“Good luck, Lan”, she whispered in his ear as he pulled him for a hug. “I trust you”.

And with the words he has been waiting for months to hear, Lando went into his car with the boost of confidence he needed. So far, he hadn’t won a race in Formula 1, but he had been so close for a lot of weekends. Always P2, never the winner. But now he had the confidence who could make him pass anyone in front of him. He was going to win for Y/N, just because she asked him to. So when he crossed the chequered flag before any other driver, he felt his entire life flash right in front of his eyes. Every sweat and tears dropped for this moment, who had been a long time coming. All these years had finally paid off.

Once he parked the car, everything moved in slow motion for him. The mechanics pulling him in for a hug, and all the other drivers who came to congratulate him as well. It could be a scene taken out of a film, quite easily. And when Lando saw Y/N standing right next to Zak Brown behind the barricade, he could feel his heart at his mouth. She was drowning in proud tears, applauding him with all of her strength. So he didn’t care about anyone else who was calling his name; he simply approached her and gave her the biggest kiss they ever shared. 

It’s been only a couple of days since he had last kissed them, but Lando missed her lips as if it had been a year since he last did it. And with that, he felt a weight being lifted off his shoulders, knowing everything was finally alright. His reputation was saved, he had a race win, and he had his favourite girl right there with him. It couldn’t get better than that.

Lando chased her lips once she tried to break off the kiss, not wanting to let go off her yet. But she managed to separate them between giggles. “My P1. I’m so proud of you, Lan, congratulations!”

“I love you”, he mumbled against her lips. “I love you so fucking much”.

Y/N didn’t say it back right at that moment, because there’s still a lot that needed to be said between them before those three words. But she kissed him again, and it said it all. She didn't have to say she loves him because Lando knew it. Looking into her eyes, tasting her on his lips, he knew she felt the same. So he didn’t care about getting no response, because he knew it all in his heart.

“I’ll be back in the blink of an eye. I promise you”, Lando pressed another quick peck to her lips before proceeding with everything he’s required to after the race.

Lando stood on the tallest step of the podium and raised his trophy as high as he could. He splashed his champagne bottle to make a mess on everyone, spotting Y/N on the ground and spraying the liquid far enough to reach her downstairs. He was glowing, and anyone could see that. It showed through the pictures, the interviews, the small talks with people from his team. McLaren made sure the debrief was short so they could all go celebrating the moment that has been a long time coming.

He was ready to party, but there was one more thing left to do.

“You stink of champagne”, Y/N was giggling between his arms. He was spinning her around as they walked into his hotel room, finally having some time along after the race. Nothing could kill the big smile he had stamped on his face.

“Smell it. It’s Chanel”, he joked, pulling Y/N for another kiss. Lando had her pressed against the door once it was close, and it felt too good to have his breath taken away once again by her kisses. He wanted to touch her everywhere just to know she was really there, but once his hands darted under her dress, she stopped him there.

“Not now, Lan. We still have a lot to talk before all of this”, she broke off the kiss, and he agreed with a nod. Suddenly, he was nervous once again, knowing the talk they needed to have had the potential to fix or fuck everything. “Hey, where’s that big smile you were giving me before? I miss it”.

“It is terrified of losing you”, he admitted, making Y/N’s eyes soften for him. She rubbed her thumbs on his cheeks and pouted, making him open a small grin once again. “But you’re right, we need to talk”.

“We don’t need to do this right now, Lando”, she said as he pulled her to sit in bed. He cut her before she said anything else.

“But I want to”, he said, pulling her hands to entwine with his. “Listen, I don’t think any amount of words can fix what I did to you in the past, but I'm very, very sorry. For every bad thing I said about you and every time I mistreated you. Y/N, you never deserved to hear those words from anyone, and I'm sorry I took too long to realize that”.

Y/N nodded and waited quietly while listening to what he had to say. But she could tell that he was nervous, so she encouraged him by rubbing her thumbs on the back of his hand. Lando looked down and smiled at the gesture. It showed how much she cared about him, even though he keeps fucking her up.

“You jumped into this crazy idea just to help me in the blink of an eye, and I never showed you gratitude. Even when I didn’t deserve, you were kind, and you took care of me. And I kept breaking your heart over and over again”, he admitted. “And I regret all of that. I'm so sorry, and I promise you, I'll change”.

“You already have changed”, she ran her fingers through his curls and looked between his eyes. “I know you have, Lando, or else I wouldn't have opened up to you. I just couldn’t bring myself to believe that it was really happening. So I tried to shield myself as much as I could from falling in love with you”.

Lando nodded, a little sad to know that he hurt this relationship so much that she tried not to feel anything for him. But it was nice knowing she felt the same all along, even though they needed some healing.

“And I know you're not the idiot you used to be with me. I understand that you changed and, for you, I would do anything. I would do it all again if I had too”.

“I'm sorry for being so selfish. I was so busy thinking about myself that I forgot how much I had hurt you in the past. I forgot to apologize, and I thought that giving you flowers and kisses would be enough to mend a broken relationship from the start. I was willing to do anything to make you trust me that I forgot the most important part of it all”.

“You understand my point, right?”, she asked, and he agreed with his head. “You showed me that you’re someone worthy of loving, but I just couldn’t trust you at all, because you never showed regret. But now, looking you in the eye, I know that you truly are sorry”.

“I regret every bad word I ever said about you”, he assured. “I think I made my point very clear, but I want to assure you that this thing we have, with sex and the ‘enemies with benefits’, was never just that for me. I would always have that tingle in my heart whenever I was intimate with you and with all the little nice interactions we had, my ice heart started melting for you”.

“Trust me, I know the feeling”, she assured him between giggles. “I also have to apologize to you. The insults weren’t one-sided. And I know you might think it’s all your fault now, but we both know I was a bitch to you as well. So to start in the right place, I have to say, I’m sorry too”.

“Well… I deserved it”, he shrugged, hanging his head down, but Y/N softly brought it up by taking it between her hands.

“No, you didn’t, Lando. You filled me with compliments, and now it’s your turn to take them”, she said. “You also have the kindest heart in the world. You take care of people, and you’re always the energy in the room. You’ve taken care of me on times I needed, and you brought light into my days. You taught me the purest form of love. You make me laugh, and you make me feel like a princess whenever I feel like I'm a monster. You're a good person, Lando. So if anyone is a bitch to you, they better apologize”.

“I used to be so scare of love, but you make it so easy”, Lando looked at her with adoration in his eyes, feeling so great to have his face between her hands. “I love you so much”.

She smiled at him, knowing for sure that now it was safe to say it back. With her eyes filled with tears, she admitted: “I love you so much too, Norris”. 

Y/N pulled him for a sweet kiss, finally pouring all the feelings she had for him into her actions. And he savoured every single second of finally having his dream girl all to myself. Lando slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her even closer.

“I thought I had lost you”, he whispered against her lips, feeling his eyes welling up with tears of relief. He felt it all too hard in his chest. “I'm so glad you're here with me”.

“Yeah, I thought we were doomed”, she admitted too, lacing their fingers together and giving his hand a squeeze. “But love always finds a way”.

“For you, I'll hang the stars in the sky, only to bring them back down if you want them back”, he confessed, now pulling her face between his hands. “I hope we can finally stop with the PR thing, or the friends with benefits thing, or whatever other stupid label between us, and properly be a couple”.

She giggled with him and nodded in agreement. “I want it all with you, Lan. You and me, to the end of times”.

“Forever, my love”, he pulled her for a hug and pressed countless kisses to the top of her head. “Also, now that you’re finally talking to me, congratulations again on your Emmy nomination. I’ve never been so proud of you”, he poked her sides and she laughed with his actions.

“Thank you, love”, she kissed his nose, making him blush a little.

“I’ll never get enough of praising you for this. I was so happy when I heard the news. I knew you were extraordinary, and it was just a matter of time until they recognized it”, he affirmed. “I almost exploded for not getting to celebrate it with you”.

“To be fair, I celebrated it crying alone in my room”, she confessed between laughs. Lando's heart faltered at the confession and his smile dropped. Y/N deserved a proper celebration to this incredible achievement in her career.

“You're kidding, right? So we have three things to celebrate tonight”, he said, making Y/N frown in confusion.

 “What's the third thing to celebrate?”

“My grand prix win, your nomination and our love, now very much official”, he cracked a smile, making her laugh with his statement. Y/N just had to pull him for another hug and lots of cheek kisses.

“You’re so adorable”.

“Come on, let’s get ready. We have a party to go to”.

As she watched him waltz into the bathroom for a shower, all smiley and happy, Y/N felt her heart lighter again. Everything was exactly where she wished for it to be, and she could finally enjoy it all with him. Love is weird, and sometimes it blossoms in places you would never expect. But it’s good to know you’re loved back, especially by someone as amazing as Lando. In the end, love always makes it right.

⋘ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 // 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋙

⤳ 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 - @celestialams @lizaschronicles @kapsylia @igotnorrrizz @hiireadstuff @bishhhitsaurion @mrsmaybank13 @bborra @sltwins @riccdannyf1 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @ctrlyomomma @lan4cha16 @alltoomaples @ellen3101 @hellyesjaehyun @tastebaldwin @sweate-r-weathe-r @carmenita122 @m0cha-bunny @lqvesoph @itscrzy @fangirlvibez @poppyflower-22 @livelovesports @logischeroktopus @happy-jj @saturnbloom77 @cmleitora @formulaal @secretgal66 @taisferrari-blog @sunsshinesunny @eclipsedcherry @tems13 @readingbringsjoy @naanibubbletimmispeach @kenzeyeballs @alilcloudy @architect-2015 @tillyt04 @eringaitskill @honeyhatty12 @dreamercrowd @demig0d0fapollo @mxmtewnz @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @beyond-the-ashes @ijustgomessitupx @floraav @laiba26mindflay3r @books0fever @marialovesf1 @sltwins @ourteenagetragedy @katieschry1 @loveofmylife12 @diaa-20 @urfavsgf @chilisandmilk @elleeeee21 @likedbygaslyy @notturlover @c-losur3 @brizzy-xo @gorgrussell @ellasaddiction2 @morketheduck @kravitzwhore @darkacademicvibes @jenna123456789 @crispymcniall @minkyungseokie @theovalentine @arsyao @phantomxoxo @noobmaster6931 @ohlahlaa @c0rpsecore @rafegirly @darleneslane @annalisenelson @nataliambc @amorydsmt @slytherinholland

crossed means i can't tag you! dm me and maybe we can get it fixed

[my-castles-crumbling]

performer AU - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 266

He'd been sure they were just a fling.

That he was one of many. When they fell onto hotel beds in between concerts or found stolen time during high-end Hollywood parties, hidden in side rooms, hands grabbing for buttons and ghosting across bare skin, Remus just assumed Sirius was doing this with other people, too.

They'd never agreed to exclusivity. Discussed feelings or plans. They were all passion and whirlwind. So, Remus assumed that his stronger feelings were one-sided.

Until Sirius stood in front of the large crowd and spoke into the microphone, and grinned a bit nervously. "We've got a new one tonight, actually."

And as the crowd went wild, Remus stood at his spot side-stage and paused from tuning the guitar he was readying as part of his job as a stage tech. Because Sirius's stunning voice began to croon through the microphone, the melody weaving through James's guitar riffs.

And the lyrics? All about his love for the moon.

It wouldn't mean anything to most people, or it would mean something completely different. It sounded almost innocent, the way Sirius lamented during the chorus about a star wanting to reach out and touch the glow of the moon, only to tragically miss each and every time. The way he murmured, through the bridge, about unrequited feelings and something so pure and untouchable.

Except Remus knew.

Because just last week, as they both lay in bed, Remus's arms wrapped tightly around Sirius's bare chest, Sirius had whispered sleepily, "Goodnight, Moony."

And he'd whispered, so softly, he wasn't sure Sirius could hear, "Goodnight, my star."

[shuadotcom]

Curse The Stars | HJS (M)

🪩 Summary: Meeting someone at the disco to take home for the night is customary for you, especially in your line of work. But meeting this man on this night at this disco feels more like fate as Joshua becomes much more than just your routine one night stand.

🪩 Pairing: Salesman!Joshua x Starlet Afab!Reader

🪩 Genres + AUs: Smut, fluff, a little bitty bit of angst, strangers to lovers, fwb to lovers, 1970s Hollywood au, porn with a lil plot

🪩 Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI)

🪩 Words: 8.4k

🪩 Warnings: Profanity, mentions of alcohol/drinking, poorly written 70s themes and slang (I’m a 90s baby I did my best okay)

🪩 Smut Warnings: Dirty talk, oral (f & m receiving), face-fucking, praise, fingering, pussy slapping, spitting (it’s tame lol), marking, doggy, mating press, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstim, creampie, reader is called good girl once, breeding kink?, big dick!joshua as usual

🪩 Note: Here’s my fic for @svthub’s 70s;teen collab!

This fic was heavily inspired by Virgo’s Groove by Beyoncé. It’s my 2nd favorite song off of Renaissance and as soon as I heard it I knew I needed to write some horny little songfic. At the same time it came out I was rewatching some Home Run performances and Joshua in those stages drives me absolutely insaneeee and here we are 🤗 This was supposed to be much shorter but I got carried away and added a little more plot than intended oops.

Thank you to my amazing, sweet, lovely beta @horanghater. I promise I’ll stop asking you to beta for me last minute!!! 🫶🏽🫶🏽 And thank you to the talented and wonderful @playmetheclassics for always making the most gorgeous banners for me! 🥺 💛

“Hi there beautiful, can I trouble you for a dance?”

This isn’t the first time you’ve been approached - not tonight or any night when you find yourself out on the town. You’ve already had a handful of people propose a dance, but all of them were men that did nothing but stare at your tits or give off the finest of sleazebag energy.

This man though…this man is different. 

His round eyes stay locked on yours, an unassuming, even sweet, smile plastered onto his lips that makes the corners quirk upwards. The smile reaches those brown eyes that bat at you and render you speechless for a moment.

He’s pristinely styled, with perfectly slicked back white-blond hair, and wearing fancy attire like everyone else is;  this is a new disco, and only the people with money or connections are allowed in. A freshly pressed blue suit, a very fitting lavender turtleneck, and shiny chains that glisten under the bright lights overhead, all cling to his body in ways that make your eyes linger on him longer than you should.

When he notices you ogling him, his smile becomes more of a smirk, one full of charm, and on any other man, it might’ve been suspicious, but this man has an aura to him that doesn’t make you immediately put your guard up.

“Sure,” you finally say, putting your hand in his outstretched one. With a small wave to your friends who are all giggling behind you, you’re off to the dancefloor, the man’s much larger hand engulfing yours.

With “Last Dance” having just been released, it’s the only thing that’s been playing everywhere you go for the past few weekends and tonight is no different. It plays over the speakers while you and the handsome man dance together, your bodies seeming to know where the other is moving without even having to say anything. Any hesitation that you’d enjoy your time with him fades away as the song plays, both of you singing the lyrics along with Donna Summer as he spins you around. 

Typically after the first dance, you’d prepare to have your partner offer to buy you a drink in the hopes of letting the liquor loosen you up, or they’d even skip straight to the part where they’d offer to find a hotel room nearby for you to be alone. 

Once again, though, he is different. 

This handsome stranger simply asks if you want to keep dancing and you do. Song after song, you stay on the dancefloor under the bright, multi-colored lights, laughing and singing with him until you’re both finally in need of a rest.

“I’m Joshua,” he says loudly when there’s a slight, brief lull in the music. “Joshua Hong.”

“Y/n Y/l/n.” He smiles that sweet smile again and repeats your name back to you.

“Such a gorgeous name, but I would expect nothing less from someone so gorgeous.” The line is cheesy and you’ve heard it too many times, yet somehow, Joshua still manages to make your skin hot.

“I bet you say that to everyone you dance with!”

“Only the ones I really like.” The mischievous quirk of his lips has you rolling your eyes, but you still think it’s cute.

That’s when you decide that you want to be the one to speed the night along this time.

“Wanna get out of here? My place isn’t that far from here.”

Joshua seems surprised, though only momentarily, at your bluntness, but he nods, taking your hand in his again and letting you guide him through the crowd, catching your friends’ attention with a wave on the way out and going out into the crisp fall night.

“How’d you get here?” he asks once you’re out of the doors.

“One of my friends’ boyfriends dropped us off.” He makes a noise of acknowledgement and leads you both to the busy parking lot full of people standing around and laughing, the good times spilling out from inside the bustling building.

Joshua approaches a sleek, teal convertible Cadillac. When you reach the passenger side, he holds the door open for you, gesturing you inside with a bow and flourish of his hand.

“Out of sight! I shoulda known you’d have a fancy car.” With a whistle, you slide in and he gently shuts the door behind you. 

“And why is that?”

“Most actors your age do. I would know - I’m an actress. I’ve had many a fellow actor try and get me in his Caddy.”

Joshua gets in on his side, tilting his head in question. “You think I’m an actor?”

“You’re not?” He shakes his head. “Oh.”

“Why’d you assume that?” At being questioned you clam up, clearing your throat a few times. 

“Well, you’re just, you know.”

“No, I don’t know.”

“Ugh, because you’re crazy handsome, okay?! You have a face that should be on film, but don’t go getting a big head about it!” You can tell he’s going to do exactly that, the corners of his mouth raising in an infuriatingly attractive way.

“Well thank you, beautiful. Good to know you find me ‘crazy handsome’.”

“Don’t start! Now I have to wonder what it is you actually do.” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Are you a screenwriter? You seem like you have a lot going on upstairs.”

“Thank you, I think? But no way. I wouldn’t even know where to begin writing a movie.”

“Okay, then a singer?”

“I do enjoy music.” At your victorious look, Joshua shakes his head. “But nope, not a singer.”

“What about -”

“What about telling me how to get your place so we can leave the parking lot?” 

“Oops.” You had been so wrapped up in marveling at the fresh leather and knowing a little more about your partner for the night that you nearly forgot you’re still surrounded by the nightlife in the parking lot.

The drive to your apartment is only about ten minutes away. Between telling Joshua where to turn, you sing along to the radio. Now that you’re not being inundated with booming music, you get a chance to hear Joshua’s singing voice and it only serves to leave you breathless. 

His voice is so soft and sweet yet confident as he hits the notes effortlessly. Momentarily you falter, forgetting to warn him of the next turn simply because you’re too busy staring at him slack-jawed.

He has to call your name to bring your brain back from the Joshua-shaped hole it was slipping into just listening to him. You point out the final right turn to him, doing your best to ignore how much more handsome he is out of the bright disco lights with just the moonlight illuminating his immaculate features.

As soon as you step inside, he’s taking in your apartment, complementing your pad, your choice of furniture, and the paintings hanging on your walls. You, on the other hand, have only one thing on your mind. 

When you approach Joshua, stopping him mid-sentence with your lips as he’s asking you a question about your record collection, he’s surprised, but only momentarily as he kisses you back, warm hands cupping your face. 

Joshua fucks you stupid into your mattress that night. Making you cum over and over again with his dirty words and names and his big dick keeping you full and satisfied more than any other hookups from nights past.

When he finally lets you rest, body spent and listless, you all but pass out on his chest with him making no move to leave you alone for the night which is enough to have you dreaming about him when your tired eyes slip closed.

When you wake up the following day it’s to an empty bed and a note on your nightstand.

Sorry to leave you like this beautiful, but I’ve got work. 

I’d love to dance with you again. Call me xo

Joshua

His phone number stares back at you at the end of his note and you mull over the idea of calling him before putting the note in your nightstand drawer instead. You can’t say you’ve ever had a hookup earnestly leave their number, so you need to let the thought of calling him back ruminate.

By the next weekend, Joshua is still on your mind and you find out that you can say the same for him. You’re back at the disco with your friends, the one you met him at, and when you’re at the bar getting drinks, a familiar voice sounds in your ears.

“You know, I waited by the phone for you all week. I was pretty hurt when every time it rang you weren’t on the other line.”

You practically jump out of your skin when Joshua appears, a pout on his pretty lips as he hovers close to your side.

“I…I um,” you stammer. You hadn’t expected to see him again, especially not so soon.

“If you don’t wanna see me again-”

“I do!” The words tumble out, cutting him off and he snickers at your eagerness. “I mean, I do wanna see you again. Truth be told, I’ve never had someone leave me their number and honestly want me to call them. It’s usually just for show.” Anytime a number was scrawled on your arm or a business card was left and you called the day after, you were usually met with disinterest or a nonchalant promise to meet up again. They never kept their promises.

“I wouldn’t leave my number if I didn’t want you to use it. I swear.” Joshua’s smile is sincere. His eyes meet yours, pinning you in place, and soon neither of you are moving or speaking - only searching the other for the answer. Eyes are the window to the soul, and when you search Joshua’s all you can find is honesty and gentleness and you allow yourself to believe it.

“Okay. I’ll call you later this week?”

“I hope you do, but do I have to wait that long to spend time with you or do you wanna get under that disco ball with me?” 

The idea to buy a drink is forgotten when you take Joshua’s hand and get lost in him and the music all over again. 

That night ends up the same as before with you in his car being driven to your apartment.

Tonight, though, your destination is your couch, talking to one another, drinks in hand to keep the mood comfortable. Joshua is an incredible listener, nodding along in a way that you know he’s truly taking your words in, and asking you questions about yourself. He asks what got you into acting and where you’re from. He asks about your friends, your favorite restaurants, and your favorite things to do when you’re not working.

If you rack your brain, you can’t remember the last time you had a meaningful conversation with a partner. It’s…different, in a good way.

You find out that he was invited to the disco you met at by a friend of his named Taehyung, whose name you had heard in your circle before. Hollywood isn’t that big a place.

“So, I completely forgot to ask, what movies have you been in? Truth be told, I don't recognize your name or your face, and believe me, I'd remember if I saw such a stone-cold fox on the big screen.” His words are flirty, but he asks with genuine interest.

“Well, I’ve only been in a few films, but they’re probably not ones you’ve seen.”

“Try me.” After you name the five medium-sized, indie films you have a spot on the credits in, Joshua tries to nod along but you can tell how obvious it is that he hasn’t seen any of them.

“That’s okay. I wanna be the next Pam Grier or Cicely Tyson, but I’ve still got a long way to go.”

“Hey, I’m sure you will be. No - I know you will. I can tell you’re gonna be a real star.” There’s no hint of sarcasm behind what he says. He’s so sure of himself - of his words - and a warmth overtakes you, settling deep in your chest.

“Thank you.” Your words are bashful and he seems to notice, scooting across the mustard-colored fabric of your couch, closer to you.

“Anyway, what do you do other than make people all flustered just for fun?”

“I work with people,” Joshua answers with a chuckle, taking a sip of his drink.

“You work with people?”

“Yep, all types of people. Demanding people, nice people, some of the worst people I’ve ever met. You name it.”

“I work with people too, Joshua, and we already established you’re not an actor.”

“I could never be an actor. I don’t think I have it in me.”

“Okay, so what are you then?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you do?”

“For what?”

“For work, Joshua!” Throwing your hands in the air at his back and forth you nearly knock your drink over, but catch it in time, setting the glass on the oak coffee table, not noticing when you completely miss your coaster.

Joshua laughs, commenting on how cute you look frowning at him like this. “I’m a salesman.”

“Is that all? Jesus, stop being so weird and elusive. What do you sell? Houses? Some fancy, shiny cars or something?” 

His expression stays neutral, suddenly transfixed by the ice swirling in his cup.

“Joshua?”

He heaves a sigh and finally meets your eyes. 

“Washing machines,” his words come out in a rush. “Appliances in general, but I uh, I’ve sold the most washing machines in my department.” He takes a hearty sip of his drink, not meeting your stare.

“Okay? What’s the problem with that?” 

“I - you don’t care?”

“Why would I?”

Joshua chuckles, running a hand through his neatly styled platinum hair. “Whenever I’m on this side of town, the second someone finds out I’m not an actor or model or whatever they assume I am, usually they lose interest in me. I know we’ve only seen each other twice but I really like spending time with you. I was worried you’d tell me to get out or something.” 

The man whom you’ve only known for a week at best and who always looks so confident and self-assured is wringing his hands in front of you, an air of nervousness surrounding him. 

“Lucky for you, I’m not as shallow as the other folks in Hollywood and I don’t care what you do. Besides, spending time with you is the most fun I’ve had in a long time.” Joshua seems to search your face for any hint of doubt behind your words, but he finds none. 

He takes this as a cue to lean over and kiss you and you don’t think twice to kiss him back, melting into his lips and his hold.

Once again, Joshua fucks you within an inch of your life, staying over again, but this time he doesn’t have work until a little later so he sleeps in with you. After breakfast, he props you on your laminate counters and rocks your world, the remainder of your eggs and toast left cold on the side.

Joshua Hong is quickly proving to be someone you’re unable to let go of and you’re starting to believe that you don’t want to.

You and Joshua expertly fall into a groove. The next few months with him are the same; meeting at the disco on the weekends, sometimes he comes over during the week after you’ve been on the phone for a few hours, and he has sex with you on every surface of your apartment (even a few times in his Cadillac he had saved up for), then he sleeps over and goes home, only for you two to do it all over again. It becomes routine and is the very definition of your relationship with him for months.

Joshua is easy to be with and talk to and what you have works with him - you’re comfortable with him - more comfortable than you’ve ever been with a man. 

That’s why it’s so easy to fall in love with him.

You don’t notice it at first and you’re not sure when your enjoyment for being around him morphed into a need to see him or when you went from butterflies fluttering in your stomach when he complimented you to full-on fawning over him internally, but it snuck up on you and hit you like a bus.

The first time it dawns on you is when you’re both cuddled up on your couch, watching a new episode of The Jeffersons. George Jefferson makes a joke that you both find particularly funny, causing you both to erupt in a fit of laughter. You peek over at Joshua and you feel your heart skip a beat. His eyes are in the shape of crescent moons (which you’re realizing you always notice and it always makes you melt) and his radiant smile that makes his whole face light up is as infectious as always, and you can’t help but beam even more. His laugh, always so airy and melodic, rings through your apartment and you think to yourself how much you wish you could hear it every day for the rest of forever.

The next time your feelings make themselves known is when he’s over and he offers to cook you dinner, which you eagerly accept. 

It’s just a simple pasta dish, nothing too fancy, but seeing Joshua float around your kitchen in your frilly red apron does something to you. Every so often he’ll pause in singing along to the record playing in the living room to let you taste the sauce or the noodles, sometimes planting a kiss on your forehead or cheek before feeding you. Your heart (and your pussy) clenches at how attractive he looks and at the thought of seeing him like this more often. And by “more often”, your brain attempts to conjure up the question, “What if you lived together?”

You quickly shake the thought away, scolding yourself. You and Joshua have only been…whatever this is for a little over four months. The idea of living together is simply ridiculous.

It’s when four months roll into six, then eight, and nearly nine that you accept that your thoughts now belong to Joshua Hong and Joshua Hong only. When you start seeing him in the sunshine and away from the bright night lights, you feel the shift in your heart finalizing. In simple flared-bottom jeans and fitting shirts, Joshua is just as stunning and alluring as he is in his finest suits and quaffed hair. He can still make you laugh the same and you have the same meaningful conversations and he can still fuck you better than you’ve ever been fucked in your whole life. He’s the same slick guy that dances with you whenever you’re both feeling good and after nearly a year of knowing him, you finally accept that you’re in love with him.

The decision to tell him is one you have to make on your own.

“When are you going to stop messing around with the washing machine salesman?”

“Yeah, you need someone who will put you on the map! What about Hyungwon Chae? He’s been in a few flicks and he’s sooo handsome!”

“Yeah! Oh, or Jungkook Jeon?! His latest album is rumored to be wildly successful and I’ve heard it’ll be just as groovy as his last!”

The conversations with your friends around Joshua are always the same. It doesn’t matter how much detail you go into about the latest sweet thing he’s done for you or the latest concert he took you to or how good he is in bed (you keep that to yourself now since they never appreciate it), it’s always the same criticism. He’s not famous, he’s not rich - he’s just some “normal” guy to them and they can’t seem to fathom why on Earth you’re still seeing him.

They don’t seem to get that he’s so much more than a frequent hookup to you. At least - you want him to be. You can’t tell how he feels or if he wants more, but how will you ever know if you don’t tell him? 

Your heart hammers against your chest at the thought of telling him and having him turn you down. The worst he can do is say he wants to keep your time together the same: doing things that make it feel like you’re more than what you are. Even worse is that he can stop seeing you altogether. Even the whisper of that makes your head hurt and your stomach tangle in unfixable knots.

But then there’s that possibility that Joshua digs you as much as you dig him, if not more. That possibility is what burrows deep into your brain and gives you the confidence you need to tell him. 

Confidence or delusion - either way, it’s a chance you’ll take. 

As an actress, you have to remind yourself that life is full of risks. You wouldn’t have any of the flicks on your resume that you do if you didn’t go to those auditions, put yourself out there, and give it your all. That’s what you want to do with Joshua - it’s what you need to do. You don’t need so-called friends to tell you that.

You have to tell him. You have to know if he’s also too nervous to admit his feelings or if you’re being foolish and pining for nothing. He’s quite possibly the love of your life and you need to tell him.

You don’t see Joshua for two weeks after you realize how you feel about him. Between his extra shifts and a rush of auditions from your manager, life seems to keep you apart for much longer than you’d like. 

It’s when you finally have a night to yourself, away from the hustle and bustle that you get the time you’ve been yearning for.

You’re stepping out of the tub when you hear your phone ringing, the shrill sound breaching your quiet evening.

“I’m coming!” You call out to no one, slipping on your fluffy robe and slippers before shuffling through the apartment and to the kitchen. You make it just in time, picking up the pink phone dangling from the wall.

“Hello?” The tone you take on is slightly annoyed, hoping the caller knows you’re unhappy with the interruption.

“Hey, beautiful. Hope I’m not interrupting your night.” The smooth sound of Joshua’s voice melts you on the spot, expertly deflating your growing irritation as easily as popping a balloon.  You’re embarrassed to admit just how easily Joshua Hong can get you to abandon anything else that isn’t him. 

“Hey, Shua. No, I’m just at home tonight. I just got out of the tub.”

“Oh yeah? No big fancy parties with your fancy friends?” 

“Nope. It’s just me, all alone with no plans for the rest of the night.” Your fingers tangle in the phone cord, wrapping the springy wire around your hand.

“I see. That sounds pretty boring if you ask me,” he hums, quickly picking up what you’re putting down. “No one to talk to or spend time with.” 

“Hmm yeah, you’re right. Just me, myself, and I, all alone here,” your true intentions behind those words dripping from your flirty tone like honey. Not even five minutes ago that sounded like a perfect evening, but you already know why he’s calling, and spending the night with Joshua sounds like a much better option. 

“Such a shame for you to be home alone all night. Maybe you can get someone to keep you company?”

“I think I’ll have to. I just don’t know what to do with myself otherwise. Plus, I’m feeling awful lonely.”

“Well we wouldn’t want you to be lonely now would we?” Joshua is smirking into the phone, and you can so clearly envision his grin with mischief written all over his pretty face. He wants you to initiate tonight and he’ll go back and forth as long as you’ll let him. Typically you have no problem keeping up with his snark, but the sound of his voice alone has you craving him like some sex-crazed lunatic.

Which you suppose you are when it comes to Joshua.

“Baby,” you breathe out, deciding you’re yearning for him far too much to play this game tonight. “Please come over?” You make sure to add a sprinkling of a whine at the end of your request, punctuating the entirety of your words with a tiny moan. 

Joshua hums into the phone, pretending to think even though you both already know his answer.

“And how could I say no to you, hmm?” Joshua shuffles on the other end, his voice lowering an octave, but volume loud and clear to you. “I’m done work in a few. Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be over to see you. Think you can wait up for me, darling?”

“Always, Shua,” the implication behind his words has you buzzing with excitement, your own voice lowering in a hushed tone even though you’re home alone.

“See you soon, beautiful.”

As soon as the phone hangs up you rush into action, shuffling back to your bathroom to completely dry off and moisturize your skin. With styled hair and a spritz of Joshua’s favorite perfume on you, you slip into your favorite silk nightie, the one that dusts your ankles with the slit in the side that goes up to the middle of your thigh. You don the matching robe and put on one of your favorite records, mixing two drinks after you do so. 

Just as you’re about to sit down there’s a knock on your door. Your stomach does flips as you go to answer it. You hadn’t known when you wanted to tell Joshua that you want him as more than a friend he sleeps with every weekend, but this feels like the right time. Truth be told you don’t know when the right time even is, but the longer you wait the more it’ll gnaw at you and won’t leave you alone.

“Look at you,” Joshua wraps his arms around you as soon as you let him in, drawing you into his embrace. He places a kiss on your lips, lingering for a second before pulling away. You hate the way you want to chase his lips.

He follows you into the living room, sinking into the couch next to you and you hand him the drink you made. 

“It’s just an old-fashioned, nothing fancy.”

“An old-fashioned is pretty fancy to me. You didn’t have to make me anything, darling.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

Your words earn you another kiss, this time on your cheek and you get a new round of tingles across your body.

Joshua tells you about his day as you sit and drink together and the whole thing feels so painfully domestic. And you want it to be, so badly. Not that you want to stop acting - it’s been your dream as long as you can remember so you would never abandon it, but you want Joshua to be a part of this now and a small piece of you worries that he won’t want to. Hollywood isn’t for everyone and he’s voiced time after time how he could never see himself in showbiz or the business in general. But that’s fine with you. The time you’ve spent with Joshua far surpasses anyone else in the business you’ve ever given your time to anyway.

“Y/n?”

“Huh?”

“I lost you for a moment there. I didn’t mean to bore you with my department store tales,” Joshua chuckles, sipping his drink.

“No, you could never bore me! I was just thinking is all.”

“About?”

“You,” your answer is automatic and it’s the truth.

“Oh yeah?” You nod in response as Joshua tilts his head at you, eyes sparkling as he looks you over. “C’mon. Let’s boogie.” He puts his glass down and grabs your hand instead, leading you to the middle of your living room. 

Minnie Riperton serenades you as Joshua brings you closer, your bodies slotting together perfectly as you sway to the music. He hums along, his eyes closing as he dips you for show, both of you sharing a giggle as he brings you upright.

These are the moments that let you know that you’re in love with Joshua Hong. Everything he does, everything he says, it’s all with a tenderness and a care that you’ve never experienced, but it still makes you feel incredibly special.

The beginning chords of “Lovin' You” fill the room, as Joshua’s fingers dance across your waist.

“I love this song.” He begins humming along again, and this is the moment you’ve been waiting for, you think, sucking in a huge breath of air.

“And I love you,” the words fall from your mouth before you can think twice and you do your damndest to make yourself sound confident.

Joshua’s smile slips in an instant, his expression turning serious. “What?”

“I’m into you, Joshua. So much. I wanna be more than what we are.” He’s stopped swaying completely, neither of you moving. The only sound other than the song still playing is the sound of the blood rushing loudly through your ears.

“Y/n…”

Your heart is this close to shattering into a million pieces. “What, you don’t like me back?”

He must notice your forlorn expression, because he reaches for you again, gently touching your arm. “No, it’s not that I just…” 

“What is it then? Huh?”

Joshua heaves out a sigh, eyes closing before fixing you with a steady gaze. “I just sell washing machines, Y/n. I don’t have some bright future like you. I’m not getting a star on the Walk of Fame. I’ll get promoted to a store manager at best. I’m not like you.”

You blink at him, taking in his words. “That’s what you’re worried about?! Joshua, I don’t fucking care! I wouldn’t care if you worked at a factory or were a carpenter. Hell, I wouldn’t care if you were unemployed - I like you for you. No, I love you. I love you for your heart and your sense of humor and how sweet you are to me and how you actually, genuinely care about me and my interests and my dreams. I love you for every little thing about you, Joshua. Not for how much money you make or any of that.”

He’s silent, letting you pour your words out, your thoughts flowing from your mouth like a broken faucet. “Y/n…” he finally starts. The fear that he’ll turn you away just because he feels like he’s not enough grips you. Your ears tune into the song still playing and you do the first thing you can think of to get him to stop. You sing.

“Lovin' you I see your soul come shinin' through…”

He looks confused, almost unsure if you’ve truly begun to sing to him. “Y/n -”

“And every time that we oooooh. I'm more in love with you.”

“I’m-”

“La la la la la la la…do do do do do-“

Joshua closes the small gap between you two, his lips colliding with yours, putting a stop to your serenade before you can hit Minnie Riperton’s falsetto. You don’t object in the slightest, kissing him back with all your might.

“Did it work?” You mumble against his lips as you separate. “Did I get through to you? Are you staying?”

“I mean, you definitely made me lose track of what I was thinking of saying to you. I think I also know why you told me that one time that you’ve never considered being a singer.”

His teasing earns him a push against his chest, barely even moving under your force. “I pour my heart out to you in song and this is what I get?!”

He dodges the remainder of your playful hits and grasps your hands in his, his thumbs caressing your skin.

“Seriously, Y/n. I’m just a guy who works at Sears. Are you sure you want to do this? Are you sure you want me like that?” You can’t help but lift a hand and smooth out the crinkles on his forehead with your thumb, attempting to push the frown off of his perfect face.

“The only other time I’ve been this sure about something I wanted was when I knew I wanted to be an actress.” His eyes shine as you speak, searching for sincerity. “Do you want me like that?” 

“God, yes, I do. I have for months.” 

Relief washes over you, putting you at ease. “Then you can have me. In any and every way.”

Joshua doesn’t hesitate in the slightest. Soft lips meld into yours, your body molding against his as he holds you around the waist. His hands roam your body, his touch leaving searing warmth in its wake. He kisses you, sufficiently taking your breath away as he does. Your fingers card through his platinum locks, mussing the strands, but he pays it no mind as his lips trail from yours, down to your jaw and your neck. Joshua is nothing short of an expert when it comes to your body and the places you like to be touched and kissed.

When he reaches the most sensitive spot on your neck, the spot that makes your toes curl, he sucks, sinking his teeth into the soft skin. A sharp cry slips out of your mouth as he nibbles on the skin, sucking hard enough that there’ll surely be a mark there in the morning. 

His hands wrap around you, palming your ass through your nightie and bringing your body impossibly closer to him. His erection strains against his corduroy pants, hard and aching just for you. You heave a heavy sigh when he finally leaves the patch of skin he’s working at alone, only to move to another swatch of skin. Your knees almost give out and you have to grab onto his blazer to stay upright. 

Joshua’s hands roam over the silk and he continues to spend extra time on your most sensitive of areas before he decides he’s satisfied with the marks he’s decorated you with. He moves to kiss you again and with each slide of his lips against yours feeling more frantic by the second, so does his grip until his fingers catch on the knot of your robe, tugging it gently.

“Can I…?” he questions into your mouth.

“You never have to ask.” His lips curl into a smile against yours as he makes quick work of removing your robe and tossing it aside. He gently bunches up the fabric of your nightgown and eases it up and over your head, letting the fabric fall to the floor.

Now with no barrier between his wandering hands and your bare skin, Joshua’s hands move across you with purpose, one hand cradling your lower back and pushing you into him again. The other beelines for one of your breasts, his large hand scooping one up to knead at. He kisses you with so much hunger you can feel the need rolling off of him in waves and his hands that paw at you serve to make you even wetter.

He bucks his hips shallowly against you and your need for him reaches an all-time high. When you pull away, Joshua looks forlorn at losing your warmth, but when you drop to your knees in front of him, letting the brown shag underneath you dig into your skin, his expression morphs into one of excitement.

Hands work at his belt buckle, undoing it, then his pants, and you help him step out of the fabric along with his underwear. His cock, in all of its thick, throbbing glory feels as heavy as always in your hands when you pump him a few times, watching the precum bead at his tip. Wrapping your lips around the bulbous head, you suckle at it a few times, loving the way that Joshua starts breathing heavily above you, one of his hands coming up to settle on the back of your head.

You ease his length into your mouth bit by bit, enjoying the way the thickness stretches your lips and your throat as you take him in. You clench around nothing, already anticipating that same stretch in your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, just like that, darling,” Joshua grunts when you finally take him as far as you can fit him in your mouth, your hands wrapping around the rest of him. Your head bobs in tandem with your hands as you stroke him, letting him hit the back of your throat. 

Both of Joshua’s hands are on your head now, his fingers getting caught in your hair as he tugs a few times. You’ve had his dick down your throat enough times to know what he wants, so you go slack, letting him fuck your mouth, gagging each time he pushes your head to meet his thrusts.

Your eyes slip closed, letting him use your mouth to the pace he wants. Your core throbs almost painfully as you suck him off and you have to rub your thighs together to feel any semblance of relief, although it’s nowhere near enough.

Joshua stills his hips then, keeping his length buried in your throat, your nose touching his pubic bone as you slowly breathe out of it. You swallow around him a few times, Joshua letting out a long, rumbling groan from his chest before pulling you back, his cock leisurely sitting against your lips, both of you trying to catch your breaths.

“Keep sucking me off like that and I’ll have to paint your pretty face.”

You suck him in one more time then pull off of him completely with a pop, tongue dipping into his slit just to tease him. “Do it. Want you to cover me in your cum.”

Joshua hisses, the grip on your hair tightening as he pulls you off of his length once and for all. “Fuck, you’re so nasty. Sit on the couch, baby.” 

Ignoring the soreness in your knees, you crawl to the couch and perch on the edge, awaiting Joshua’s next instructions. Joshua unbuttons his shirt, your eyes greedily drinking in every inch of his toned, honeyed skin as he does so. Once he’s fully naked in front of you like he has been so many times before, you lick your lips, wanting nothing more than to cover him in marks of your own.

That will have to wait as it’s Joshua’s turn to drop to his knees and make his way over to you, settling in between your already open legs. His hands, always so big and warm and strong, grip your thighs, spreading them even further, so agonizingly slow. 

“Mmm, there she is - drooling for me already. Crying to be filled up.”

“Josh- shua, please!”

“Please? Please what, sweetheart?” Joshua drags his finger through your sticky folds, watching your arousal coat his fingers.

“Please finger me or fuck me - anything!” 

The smirk that tells you he plans to tease you plays on his lips, the corners quirking up in the most aggravating, charming way.

“Anything?”

“Please!” 

His palm meets your core with force, smacking your pussy and sending a jolt through your whole body. Back arching in the air you let out a tiny scream, and more follow as he does it a second, third, fourth time.

“Joshua, baby, fuck, please!”

“Hmm? Thought you wanted anything I give you? Slapping your greedy pussy isn’t enough?”

Shaking your head vigorously, you beg him for something more. “Wanna be stuffed, please, Shua!”

His eyes darken at your words and he takes a mercy on you, landing two more smacks against your mound before he dips a finger into your core, a sigh of solace leaving you. He watches your mouth hang open as he works his finger in and out at a torturous pace. 

“Always so warm and wet for me.”

“Always,” you assure him. You’ll always be ready for him in any way that he wants you.

Joshua slips a second finger in, stretching your walls more. You can write a whole dissertation about how good Joshua is with his hands and how much you love them, but his pace picks up, sufficiently wiping your brain of any of those eloquent words.

“Fuck!” You yelp as he keeps pumping his fingers into you and leans over to wrap his lips around your aching clit. He sucks at the bud, pistoning his digits and crooking them, his fingertips catching against your g-spot. “Shua!”

“God, I love it when you say my name. Say it again, baby.” To coax you, he flattens his tongue against your clit, putting pressure on it as his fingers move faster, and rougher, bringing you closer to your peak. If it’s up to Joshua, he’d have you cumming until you pass out, but you have to draw the line somewhere after the first night he wanted to see how many times he could get you to cum for him (his record is eight, and you haven’t had the fortitude to let him try and break it just yet).

“Joshua - Shua, gonna cum!”

“Go on then, do it, baby, cum for me.” He continues to suck on your clit, his teeth grazing the nub a few times and that’s all it takes to have you let go, yelling out Joshua’s name again as you do. He doesn’t give you time to catch your breath because his mouth then latches onto your pussy, tongue darting into your wet heat.

“T-too much!” Your whimpers are half-assed and he knows you don’t actually mean it which is why he keeps at it, slurping your juices and fucking you with his tongue. Joshua hums against you as he goes and it’s embarrassing how quickly you cum again, but your partner loves it, chuckling against you as he laps up your release and places a kiss on your puffy lips.

“You always taste so sweet, baby. Flip over for me?”

“‘Course,” you rasp, turning your already tired body over, Joshua helping with gentle hands on your hips. He stands up, stretching tall as he walks to his forgotten pants and gets out his wallet.

“Damn it,” he huffs, rifling through his wallet and checking the pockets a few more times.

“What’s wrong?”

“I forgot to bring more condoms. You okay waiting for me to -”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. I need you now.”

“Y/n, we’ve never -”

“I know, but I haven’t been messing around with anyone else since we started seeing each other. Have you?” 

“No, I haven’t. How could I when I have a whole you waiting for me here?” Even with your ass in the air and pussy glistening with his spit, it’s the way he says this - with so much care and admiration in his tone - that has you flustered.

Joshua joins you again, hands running down your back, goosebumps popping up on your flesh under his touch. He stops at your ass, squeezing and kneading your cheeks, spreading you open, the cool air of your apartment making you jump.

The chill is quickly replaced with the searing warmth that is Joshua as the tip of his dick nudges your entrance. He purses his lips, leaning over to spit on both his length and your hole before plunging into you. His girth stretches your walls deliciously, inch by inch of him entering you.

You let out an audible shudder as he goes, relaxing your body as best you can as he stuffs you.

“Look at you,” Joshua coos once he’s fully sheathed inside of you. “Taking my fat cock so well, darling.”

“Feels so g-good, Shua. So fucking good.”

“Yeah? I’ll make you feel even better, baby.” Joshua grips your waist and pulls his hips back, all the way until only his cockhead catches at your hole before snapping forward, shoving his dick back into you to the hilt. You can’t help but wail at Joshua’s thrusts, hips meeting you repeatedly as he drives into you over and over again.

Your record still plays in the background, the slaps of Joshua’s skin against yours mixing with the melody along with yours and Joshua’s moans. The drag of Joshua’s dick against your gummy walls has you shuddering underneath him. Without a condom, he feels so much hotter inside of you as every vein, every ridge, every pulse of his cock can be felt with each thrust. 

“Shit, just like that, Shua!” Your neck cranes to look over your shoulder, attempting to gain some leverage against the couch cushions by leaning on your elbows. The sight of Joshua, skin flushed and shining with perspiration, eyebrows knitted in concentration with his bottom lip pulled between his teeth is enough to send you careening towards your end. You don’t get a chance to warn him before it hits you, the building pressure in the pit of your stomach releasing as you’re pushed to let go, burying your face in the cushions with tears pricking at your eyes.

“Fuck, look at you. Couldn’t even hold off from cumming again. You like my cock that much?”

“Yes!” you sob. “So much! So good…” 

Joshua pulls out, you whimpering at the loss of him, but he doesn’t leave you empty for long. Joshua’s big hands help flip you over on your back, ass almost hanging off of the couch. He grasps your thighs, pushing your knees into your chest as he enters you again, burying himself in your messy heat. Joshua’s hips drill into you, balls slapping against your ass each time he surges forward.

Your record has stopped playing by now, the only song sounding through the walls of your apartment are your sobs of Joshua’s name and his grunts as he uses all of his strength. He keeps you pinned between his body and the couch, dick battering your sore cunt as both of you chase your ends.

“Shit, baby you’re so fucking beautiful. Taking my dick like a good girl.”

“Y-yeah. I’m your good girl!”

“Yeah, you are. Always so good. Letting me fuck you raw. Wantin’ me to fill up this filthy little pussy.”

Joshua swivels his hips, tip grazing against your spongey bundle of nerves. “Just like that!”

His hands keep your legs up and spread open as he does what you beg for, repeatedly pounding into your g-spot as your eyes roll back, mouth hanging open as any more sounds die on your tongue.

“Look at you. All fucked out and drunk for my dick. Gonna pump you full of my seed, maybe even fuck a baby into you. Would you like that?”

“Yes! Fuck me, Shua!”

“Fuck yeah, I will. Gonna flood this cunt with my cum and get your belly nice and round. Gonna make you mine forever.”

The Earth shatters around you and a tsunami of fire washes over you when you cum again, your back arching painfully as you scream out for him. Your pussy clenches around him, squeezing his cock like a vice which triggers Joshua’s orgasm.

“Shit - fuck, Iloveyousomuch!” The words tumble from Joshua’s lips as he cums, painting your insides sticky and white. He milks himself as he keeps his pace, his seed spilling out around his cock, leaking out and dribbling down your ass. Feeling him stay true to his word and pump himself dry into you draws a final, much smaller, weaker orgasm out of you as tears fall from your eyes both at the oversensitivity and hearing Joshua say to you what you’ve hoped he would for nearly a year.

Neither of you move, panting like crazy as the sweat on your bodies starts to dry along with the cum still slowly trickling out of you. When Joshua finally eases out his softening length, it’s with a groan on both your parts. Your sore legs lower, limply hanging off of the couch. The sensation of the rest of his cum seeping out of your abused hole and down your legs makes you sigh, your hips wiggling in response.

“Look at you, baby. You’re a mess.” He’s still a little out of breath but still manages to tease you.

“And whose fault is that?” He simply chuckles at you and you watch him through bleary eyes, heave himself off of the couch, and go into your kitchen. 

He’s back in no time, two glasses of water in his hand. He offers you his bicep which you take, using him for leverage to sit up. You eagerly accept the water, downing the glass in less than thirty seconds, dry throat more than grateful.

Joshua’s next to you on the couch, watching you as he hydrates as well. The two of you sit in silence, emptying your cups and catching your breaths. For a moment, you worry that his confession was only in a bout of pleasure, but as if reading your mind he speaks.

“I meant it, you know. I love you.”

That’s all you need to hear to have you practically launching yourself in his lap, your lips crashing into his for a long, but sweet kiss. Joshua cradles your face, kissing you back just as hard, both of you eventually giggling into each other’s mouths. 

When you need to breathe again, you pull away just enough to rest your forehead against his. Joshua’s brown eyes shine as they meet yours, your stomach flipping as you’re reminded for what feels like the 500th time just how handsome he is. 

“I know you already took a bath, but I think we need to get you in the tub again,” he comments, gaze flickering down to the cooling streaks of his cum on your legs. And how he’s all yours.

“Only if you join me this time.”

“Only if you make time to let me take you on a proper date tomorrow night. We’ve spent a ton of time together, but I need to court you for real now.”

“As if I’d say no to you. I’m in love with you after all.” A brilliant, blinding smile takes over Joshua’s face and your heart leaps. No matter how much time you spend with Joshua, you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of laughing with him or smiling with him. And especially not dancing with him. You’ll never tire of that.

Net tag: @kflixnet

[1dcommunityficrecs]

Rec List: Sports Fics!

Hope everyone has been enjoying the Olympics -- I know I have! There have been amazing performances, emotional records, hilarious memes -- it's truly a unique human experience of community and celebration and accomplishment.

Inspired by that theme, here are some more unique human experiences -- eleven of them! Ranging from under 2000 words to over 100,000 words, fics posted a decade ago (holy smokes) to fics posted just this year, pieces that I know so well they live in my bloodstream to ones I've never heard of and can't wait to try, and even including a rare pair, there's lots of variety as usual, so dig in!

Oh Glory by alivingfire (21027, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

This fic follows Harry, a swimmer, and Louis, a gymnast, at the Olympics.

Reccer says: I love the sense of time and place it evokes.

don't have to go to the pool by Kingsoftheimpossible (12245, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Harry is new to the swim team, Louis is the captain.

Reccer says: This is an absolutely sexy , adorable, efficient, serotonin-boosting fic.

Whirlwind by Dolce_piccante (21311, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

AU. Acclaimed actor, Hollywood heartthrob, and Oscar nominee, Harry Styles, seems to have the world at his feet, but seeks out an old friend when he needs a date for his big night

Reccer says: It's dolce, so it's sexy, it's funny and there is pining.

The Sidelines by RedRidingStiles (47078, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Harry and Louis play hockey for Penn state and can't stand one another, since they can't keep their hatred off the ice their coach and team do what they can to keep their hard earned spot in the playoffs and their two star players from killing each other

Reccer says: The enemies to lovers is done really well, and they're both stupid. It's the perfect combination of interesting plot, comedy, and smut.

Baby Just Dive Right In (Follow My Lead) by LiveLaughLoveLarry (1686, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

Louis and Harry are partners in synchronized diving. Also in life. They're not intentionally hiding their relationship, but somehow no one seems to pick up on their blatant hints.

Reccer says: It's so funny watching everyone brush off the most unplatonic things as just bros and friends and teammates. Like, I know it's contrived for the sake of the story, but also... it's not that far of a reach!

Get Your Head in the Game by tuxlouis (2007, General, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Harry is on a blind date to a basketball game, and the guy he's supposed to be going with is a TERRIBLE date. Fortunately the cute guy sitting on the other side is a much better conversationalist -- and kisser.

Reccer says: Very sweet, very cute, very funny. Harry's original date is such a hot mess it's hysterical, and Louis is such a little shit but that's what I love about him.

Addicted To Your Fix by sunshinebombx (6312, Teen, Liam Payne/Harry Styles)

Liam injures his shoulder shortly before the French Open. He needs to get back in fighting shape, so he's set up with some yoga therapy. It's very motivating how much he enjoys watching Harry do a downward dog.

Reccer says: Harry's flirting is adorable, and Liam's complete obliviousness to the fact that it's genuine is hilarious. I also love the side-plot about how the media is convinced that Niall and Liam are bitter rivals instead of close friends who get that in sports sometimes you win and sometimes you lose and it's not personal.

Glass Closets and Greenhouses by TiredTiredTz (60933, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

Charlton Athletic defender Louis Tomlinson and worldwide sex symbol Harry Styles are rumoured to be hooking up after a viral video filmed at Harry’s Wembley show was posted online by Tommo’s twin sisters.

Reccer says: This is such a great fic! Sweet, sweet meet-cute, witty banter, and actual Tommo-on-the-pitch scenes!

When the Lights Go Out by thelarenttrap (79269, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post Warnings: Car Crashes

Formula 1 racing drivers Harry and Louis have a history: as childhood competitors, to teammates, to enemies, to eventually lovers.

Hold My Breath by Zarah5 (19749, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Louis is a footballer. Harry is a yoga teacher. Louis doesn't expect to like yoga, doesn't want to like yoga, but... Harry has a way of making it seem not that bad.

Reccer says: Because it's Zarah5 and with her nothing can be anything but fantastic.

Into The Blue by Zarah5 (117218, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Louis is Harry's diving instructor

Reccer says: I honestly think this fic is a classic. A must read. Not to mention it would be a sin

[caustinen]

Hollywood!AU Clegan....

How about John wins a major award (career changing recognition) and Gale's his plus one at the event, and John goes for a massive smooch when his name is announced and it becomes a viral meme? :') <3 <3

Hehee I ended up trying something bit different with the format of this one but I hope you like it, thank you for the lovely idea!! 🖤🤍

hollywood au! award season (drabble)

John’s lips are twitching into a smile despite his best efforts as he observes Gale staring at the front page of the newspaper in mild horror.

“That’s…” Gale bites his lip and stops talking, and John has to look the other way because the way his husband bites his lips together in a straight line is both funny and insanely cute. They have been out late partying and thus the morning has started even later. While Gale hasn’t had a drop of alcohol he looks a bit hungover from the lack of sleep alone, slower and softer than usual, somehow.

“You look like you’ve been in a fight.” That’s what he finally settles on, diplomatically, still staring at the half-page picture. John nods, controlling his expression, and smiling just as diplomatically. “Well, it did look like I was trying to wrestle you down right before, so…” Gale hides his face into his palms. “Don’t remind me,” he whines, ”it’s not funny! Look at your lip, John! You can see exactly where my teeth got caught, I can’t believe this is how you-.”

John takes the paper from his hand then. ”It’s really not so bad,” he says, ”and I really liked the piece that goes with it.” He grins, and when Gale still looks bothered he clears his throat and starts reading aloud.

“At the end of the night John Egan, 35, took home the best actor trophy for his widely acclaimed performance as Layne Cornell in worldwide hit ’I’m Only Sleeping’. Fondly nicknamed ’Hollywood's Sweetheart’ since early in his career, the star had been previously nominated twice, once in the supporting actor category and once for the main trophy, but last night’s triumph marked his first individual reward in the Academy Awards. The long awaited honor brough this well-respected peer a standing ovation, but the moment before receiving the awards was almost overshadowed by a sweet incident with his husband, Gale Cleven-Egan.

As the actor’s spouse was getting up to congratulate Egan for his accomplishment, the later in visible excitement leaned to give him an assumedly affectionate peck to the lips. A miscalculation of speed, however, almost toppled Cleven over to the benches behind them, taking Egan with him. Luckily no one was hurt and a roar of laughter around the couple covered for the mishap as Egan managed his affection before walking up to the stage to accept the esteemed award after making sure Cleven was standing on his two feet again.

Egan is known for his cheekiness, and he stayed true to his nature last night as well as he started his acceptance speech with “apologizing for being disheveled after his better half tried to take a bite of him.” As the cameras panned away from Cleven’s now meme-formatted face hidden in hands, Egan then thanked the film crew, emphasizing the amazing work of the art departments on the costumes and cinematography, both of which have also received awards this winter in Golden Globes and Brit Awards. He took time to name all heads of departments and fellow stars on the screen alike, a class act through and through.

For the fans of what netizens have affectionately coined “Clegan” in reference to the relationship of Egan and Cleven, the night’s big prize was surely in the final part of his speech, however, when the violins were about to start to play. “Nothing in life is ever achieved truly alone, and certainly nothing about my career would have been possible without my husband,” visibly touched Egan started his conclusions, “my dear Buck, thank you for your patience, your guidance, your companionship, and for your amazing body. Baby, this is for you as much as it is for me. Thank you for your time, enjoy the rest of your night!”

Egan has never been shy to show his affection for his significant other ever since the couple made their relationship public in 2022, shocking audiences around the world as it was announced Egan and Cleven had been in a secret relationship for years. Later that year they tied the knot, and while generally still keeping their love private, they are often spotted together in Egan’s professional events. Egan’s social media presence has become something of a shared internet joke as he often posts exclusively from his husband who seems different levels of unimpressed by his doings.

I’m Only Sleeping did well in box office as well as receiving overwhelmingly positive reviews from critics before now being the trophy magnet in the award season. It also received Oscars for best supporting performances by…”

John looks up from the paper. ”And so on and so on.” Gale’s expression has softened despite the blush on his face having deepened. Bucky is suddenly so overwhelmed by emotion he drops the paper to the table as he stands up to reach for his husband’s hand and pulls him up too. Gale instantly hides his face into his neck as he relaxes to the embrace, leaving John to press an admiring kiss to his golden locks.

They hug and sway for a little bit in silence as Gale gathers himself. ”… I just wish your lip wasn’t so swollen in the picture. Otherwise it was cute,” is eventually muttered against his t-shirt, making Bucky chuckle. ”That was my own fault. Not the first time you left teeth marks on me either.” Gale sighs and finally looks up to him, the experssion in his big eyes a mix of anguish and amusement. ”Why can’t we ever manage to be cool about anything?”

He makes a protesting sound in surprise as he’s spinned around and then ends up with his back against the fridge, a huge familiar body crowding him against it. ”I think we’re plenty cool,” Bucky says absentmindedly like he’s already moved on from it, ”did I ever tell you how incredibly sexy you look bed-warm and ruffled?” Gale looks at him, unimpressed. ”Well, you did specifically take time to thank my ’amazing body’ while accepting a goddamn Academy Award, so-”

Bucky leans back so he can take a good serious look at Gale, his hands on both sides of the fridge around his head. ”Doll,” he says, and oh, the blush is back, delicious, ”I’ve done most, if not all of my best work under the influence and inspiration of this body. How could I have not-”

Gale shuts him up with a kiss, and decides it’s time to test the performance of his critically acclaimed idiot on his own.

(Hope you liked it!! 💘)

(more of hollywood au)

[gii-1]

HEY SWEETIE!!!

How are you? I was thinking if you could write an jjk boys in Hollywood AU

jjk boys - hollywood au

ft. megumi, yuji, inumaki, yuta.

notes: im note sure what you fully meant by jjk boys so i just put all the ones from tokyo! hope you’re ok with that ( ・∇・) this was very hard for me to do so im kinda nervous if i did it right.

megumi ->

• i find it hard to picture megumi as an actor, i feel like it would be difficult for him to become an actor so it would probably take him more time to get the hang of it.

• but when he does, and if he’s really passionate about it he would be able to be really good at acting.

• i can imagine him getting into a really awkward conversation with one of those fans that go crazy about their favourite actor that they become a borderline stalker.

• he’d be so incredibly unsettled by it

• like if you were to cut the atmosphere with a knife it would be very thick

• i also think he would be the type to be extremely honest and blunt with his words, especially in interviews. this would garner a lot of attention.

• going back to him interacting with his fans, he would definitely be same.

• if you give him one of the most sincere, loving compliments in the world watch him go wordless. he’d be so flabbergasted that someone even views him that highly. will definitely remember you.

yuji ->

• this guy is an absolute movie connoisseur

• i can with 100% certainty he could easily become a good actor

• he would definitely aim to star in movies that are horror, but i also feel like he’d enjoy starring in romance movies aswell

• he will definitely be able to emotionally get into the moment when preforming a scene

• he’s so polite its not even funny anymore

• he would be very open in a interview, like he would be open about his experiences and you would be able to get to know a lot about him

• i can imagine him being ecstatic when seeing his fans, would be so happy if you asked him for a photo, he’d definitely do one of those silly poses or just have a big smile on his face.

• even talking to his fans would be really happy for him, i can imagine him to be a very friendly guy when it comes to his fans

• if he had any of those weird fans he would still be very polite about it and still talk to them, but he’d express his discomfort some way or another.

• if he got gifts from his fans he would cherish them with his life, like they spent time thinking about him and even got him a gift out of their own kindness, he’d be honoured.

inumaki ->

• i see him as a man of few words, being able to convey scenes in his own style using actions which plays out really well. this would be a very good trait of his.

• i feel like you can tell which movies he stars in because of this

• he’d have a very unique way of performing and putting his own twist to it makes it a lot more different from what is traditionally done. this would make his acting very interesting.

• this isn’t necessarily a bad thing, quite the opposite actually.

• in interviews i feel he would be honest about his opinion on things which would very appealing to people

• but i feel like it would take him a lot of time to develop as an actor before he would find his style.

•i think he wouldn’t mind the idea of talking to his fans but he wouldn’t do it too much

• but when he does, i think he’d be very thankful about it, especially if he gets compliments.

yuta ->

• one thing i’ve noticed about him is the fact he’s a very selfless person, this ties into his acting as well.

• at first when it comes to acting he would have a lot of awkward moments but as he gets used to the flow of being an actor he’s is able to adapt quite easily.

• i see him as a very comforting person, so if his fans asked him advice or told him what they were going through he would definitely make sure they were heard, he would be extremely reassuring to them.

• i also think because of his personality you can clearly tell he’s a very respectful person, like he constantly shows this in interviews and interactions in fans, not even purposefully as a way to make his reputation better but because he’s just that type of person.

• i feel like if he somehow accidentally got himself into drama he would deal things with a lot maturity, he’d make sure theres no substantial arguments.