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soulwillower · 3 years

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housesitting • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

requested: no

had this in my drafts and figured i’d finish it and post it, sorry for being away, but idk if i’ll keep writing! hope you enjoy, i’ll prob still come back and update/post fics on this account on occasion. love u guys lots and i hope you’re all doing okay <3333

warnings: drinking, unprotected sex, oral (fem and male receiving), light deepthroating/face fucking, praise kink, degradation, use of the words slut, whore, etc, suuuper unedited

(losers + reader are 21+.)

4.7k words

♡

the moment you stepped back into your flat, dropping your bag heavily on the ground with a sigh, you finally felt like you could breathe.

today and yesterday had been a nightmare - you and your roommate bill had gone home, planning to stay for a week with family and friends back home.

you'd spent the first night out with old friends at the bar enjoying yourselves and you'd even gone home with a handsome boy you'd had a crush on in high school. but just as he was about to go down on you, after you'd gone down on him despite how terrible his b.o. was, he said he wouldn’t because it was 'gross.'

you hate to admit but you were slightly tipsy and horny, so you still stayed for ten minutes of awful, boring missionary before he fell asleep. then when you'd left in the uber, a voice message from your boss threatened to fire you if you didn't come in and finish a project - so you had to scramble for a flight home, leaving bill back with your friends in maine for a few days, and now you're just ready for a shower, a nicely packed bowl, and a large dinner.

because good god, that was an awful trip.

"hello?" you call, rubbing your eyes as you walk towards your kitchen, wondering if your roommate's best friend was still here - he was supposed to stay and take care of the apartment while you were away.

but instead, your eyes landed on a complete mess in the kitchen; solo cups everywhere, trash, empty chip bags, furniture moved and counters sticky from spilt beer.

"what the fuck?" you project, eyes landing on the figure who walks into the kitchen, towel hanging low on his hips as water drips from wet, shaggy curls of hair. you meet the bright eyes of richie tozier, your roommate’s best friend.

he looks like a deer in headlights, his glasses slightly fogged as he blinks his eyes owlishly and you swear his eye lashes tangle together as he blinks. "oh, hey y/n, why are you here?"

and honestly, richie has always made your fingers tingle and your abdomen clench when he so much as looks at you, despite bill’s groaning and glaring when you refer to him as ‘hot friend number one.’ (he had a lot of hot friends).

but you’re wound up, stressed, frustrated, and exhausted so all you can do is look from the boy to the mess and then back, stunned, "this is my apartment."

he chuckles, wiping a drip of water off of his chest. you have to fight to look away, feeling burning from irritation and also something else as your chest heaves. you're just so tired, and this boy who you don't know very well has trashed your place and maybe even had a party and you just want to smoke and go to bed and-

"say, what are you doing back so soon, toots? thought i had the place to myself for the next five days." he says too casually, grinning like he's catching up with an old friend. his hand runs through his wet hair, droplets rolling down his bare skin and causing you to fight the urge to keep your eyes on his face.

you shake your head. "richie, why does my kitchen look like a scene from dexter?" you say, trying to keep yourself calm.

he tilts his head in an irksome, handsome way that makes you want to scream, "pretty sure dexter was....murdering murderers, not slamming smirnoff at three am." "clean it up! what gives you the nerve to have a party in someone else's fucking apartment? while they're gone?!" you yell, throwing your hands in the air. richie shrugs uncomfortably and you're briefly in shock at how much faith richie is putting in the small tuck he's made with the towel, barely keeping up on in his waist. he laughs somewhat nervously, "sheesh, doll, it would've been cleaned by sunday, you just surprised me and almost gave me a heart attack while i was in the shower. bill told me we could throw at your place as long as we were responsible." he sounds pretty genuine, but you're just so tightly wound and frustrated.

"well this," you gesture to your place, "is not responsible." you glare, "i'm going to shower. i've had a long fucking day, and when i get out the place better be fucking spotless and you better be gone. i'm not asking." you snap.

he grins as you push past him, turning to watch you storm towards the bathroom with an apologetic grimace on his face.

you took as long as you could in the shower, savoring every warm drop until you stepped out of your bathroom, expecting to see an empty apartment.

"what are you staring at?" the boy with the curls mutters as he fixes the wine glass he'd placed on the counter. you're pretty speechless as you look around, wondering how richie had managed to get your place more clean and inviting than how you'd left it. dishes are all clean, put away, the counters spotless; the oven is set with a timer for two hours, and the smell of lasagna invites your nose with a rumble of your stomach. two glasses of wine are poured, sitting at the counter as richie chews on his lip anxiously, hair glinting in the dark mood lighting from the lamp near the window.

"i felt bad. you seem like you had a long day and i didn't mean to make it worse." he admits.

you step forward, suddenly feeling hot as you watch him, his jaw clenched slightly and sharper than you remember it. he's actually really fucking beautiful, you realize.

"you didn't have to do all this." you say, biting your lip as you take the wine glass from his hand.

"i know." he says with a cocky smirk. your face feels hot as you watch him slide out the stools by your breakfast bar, sitting down and sipping on his own wine.

with a smile, you sit next to him. he was always the friend of bills that made you the most flustered - he's a tall, loud, garish bartender who spends most his time doing stand up at the clubs on the weekends even though he studied applied mathematics in school. he's the kind of boy that everybody has a crush on, because he's got that dorky yet beautiful sculpt; dark, curly locks, pale skin with a splattering of bright freckles. his eyes pierce yours whenever you're in the same room and his grin makes your stomach flip on it's head.

"so, why'd you come back early?" richie asks as he takes a sip, eyes staring at you brightly from behind the rim of the glass. you huff a small bitter laugh, "my boss told me i had to come back because we're understaffed. told me the extra hours are 'building charater' or something. but i was having a shitty trip anyways, so i may as well just volunteer my time."

he laughs, muttering, "good girl. doin' the lords work." you almost laugh but his words have heat sent straight between your legs and you can't tind words, suddenly in a state of shock. oh, god, this wine is getting to you.

richie's always been so hot, you're not surprised that one casual phrase had you so frantic like this. you blink, richie muttering, "y/n?" gently.

you shake your head, snapping to look at him, "y-yeah? sorry, i just- what did you say?" you're embarrassed. you're embarrassed because richie didn't even mean it like that and you didn't expect to like being called that by him and you're embarrassed because he knows now, god look at his smirk, you're done for.

"i asked why your trip was shit." he says simply, smirk on his face causing your face to heat up even more. you sigh, eyeing him, "i tried to enjoy myself and then i have the worst hookup experience of my life. then i came back to a messy apartment." you admit, shaking your head as richie pours you both another glass of wine, "the worst? that's a shame. what'd he do, throw up on you?"

you laugh, "no, nothing like that. he was a minute man, and he refused to..." you shake your head, wondering why you're admitting this to a guy you barely know. you've never hung out one-on-one before with him. "-he made me do all the work. and then he fell asleep. the worst part is, i've liked him since high school." you admit, dropping your face into your hands as richie lets out a chuckle.

richie's shaking his head, "see, those types are the ones who just shouldn't be allowed in the gene pool. lazy. missin' out on all the fun, especially with a gal like you." he says with a wink. you laugh, face feeling hot. "i'm no fun." you say bashfully.

richie raises his brows with a grin, his smile making you melt, heat pooling in between your legs from the way he runs his fingers across the rim of his glass. "i highly doubt that, doll."

his eyes dip down in a not-so-subtle way as he takes in your body, biting his lip and making you clear your throat with a heated face. "sorry you had to put up with a guy who couldn't fuck you the right way. and that your boss also fucked you. and that i ruined your night."

you shake your head, "i just had so much pent up stress from the last few days." he's eyeing you, and you wonder if he wants to fuck you as bad as you want to be fucked right now. would bill kill you? yeah, he would, but richie is so damn fine and you were left so high and dry last night that you’re just about ready to jump onto his lap.

as if reading your mind, richie hums, "bill's still in maine, yeah?" he asks casually, eyes fluttering to the timer on the oven that ready an hour.

you nod, "yeah, he's actually hanging out with the guy i hooked up with tonight." you say with a light huff. richie groans a laugh, "no fuckin' way. i promise, not all of bill's friends are bad at sex." richie says with a grin, and you laugh. "you sure about that?"

he hums, eyeing you but not responding.

“guess i’ll just have to find out.” you say boldly, butterflies fluttering in your chest when richie shoots you a deep look, slicking his lips through a smile. he hums, "so i don't get it, what was so bad about it?"

you sigh, "he wouldn't go down on me. said he was 'too tired' and ‘too much work’ then he wanted to lay down so i rode him for, like, five minutes and then he fell asleep."

richie's laughing, and you swat his arm as your face burns, "it's not funny! it's humiliating, richie."

he snorts, standing up to place your empty glasses in the sink, recycling the empty bottle. "sorry, doll. that's just shit. he should've at least had the decency to make you cum."

you almost choke on your spit at his bluntness, face blossoming and thighs tingling. "y-yeah."

"anyways, i can get going, if you'd like. guess i’m done being the house sitter. the lasagna will be done in an hour or so." he says with a nod, eyes staring at yours fiercely. you hum, standing up as richie walks closer. "or you could stay." you say, looking up at him from where he stands in front of you.

"you lonely or somethin', doll?" he rumbles lowly, lifting a brow. biting your lip, you swallow, "something like that." you say, lifting a challenging brow.

“so if it was stan here, or mike...” he starts, walking towards you until he’s close enough that you’re afraid he can hear your heart thump, “you’d want them to stay?”

you swallow dryly, “if bill lived with someone else, would you want to stay?” his smirk makes you clench your thighs. his long fingers raise and curl around your jaw, tilting your head back before tucking hair behind your ear. you swallow roughly, his hands are so big. his rings that he wears are thick and ice cold and feel so good against your warm face.

your heart pounds as he smirks, eyes challenging you. the waiting is killing you.

"you've got a pretty mouth." he whispers, sending shocks all around your body. "y-you've got a pretty everything." you stutter out, feeling extremely flustered and suddenly shy. "thanks, honey." he says with a laugh, making you feel even more bashful.

"y'know..." he drawls, hand settled on your neck, caressing your jaw, "i've wanted you since i first saw you."

you can't help the whimper as it falls from your lips. it's a small, shy noise of need and it makes richie beam a beautiful, sexy grin that has your knees weak. "please..." you whimper, eyes staring at his, the suspense making you anxious with need.

"please what?" he asks quietly, clearly loving the tense air. you almost roll your eyes, "kiss me." you say, rushed.

he pulls away slightly, giving you a stern look. “please.” he says, smirk creeping onto his face. you burn in slight humiliation because he knows what he’s doing.

“please kiss me, richie.” you finally say, swallowing.

"good girl." he says with a smirk and you feel like you're burning up under his gaze. but then he’s leaning in and his lips are on yours and wow, richie is a good kisser. he’s pulling you towards him tightly, hungrily; his teeth bite gently at your lower lip as his tongue swipes your own, pulling you into him. he was needy in the way he kissed you, a dominance in him that you're not surprised to find. you craved it, you craved him; and then he's pushing you back, up onto the stool as he moves between your legs.

his mouth is then marking your neck, claiming you, and you love it, the feeling of his teeth against your warm skin, the sweetness of his smile against you.

his hands brush up your thighs and past the hem of your shorts, legs spread so he’s pressed flush against you, his bulge so close to where you want him. "richie," you let out a mangled whimper, hair knotting in his soft curls. he laughs, lips finding your ear, "always wondered how you'd sound when i had you like this," he says quietly, "can't wait to hear what pretty noises you make when i'm inside you."

his fingers find the damp seat of your panties, dancing across it and making your legs shake with anticipation and neediness. you’re already a soaked, mewling mess as you grasp for him, hungry and needy and you want him closer, closer.

he pulls you off the stool, then, and you both stare at each other for a moment. he almost dies at the state of you; already fucked-out, hair mussed up and still wet, your eyes lidded and your lips kiss-swollen.

you can’t believe your eyes, richie’s curly hair fluffy from being freshly washed, the taste of wine on his lips, the freckles, the collarbone peeking from his collar, the smirk that could melt black ice. he looks like he could tear you apart. you hope he will.

“you’re hot.” you blurt.

he rushes at you again, melding your lips together with a searing hot kiss as he shoves you backwards towards the bedrooms.

"bill told me to stay away from you," richie says as he walks you down the hall, your feet nearly stumbling and shaky as you walk backwards, lips seeking his every moment, "he said i'd ruin you." he adds.

you lift a brow, too flustered to say anything as you stare up at richie, inhaling sharply as his hand trails down to cup your ass lightly, still walking backwards. "he knows how pretty i think you are. how hot, how... perfect." he whispers into the skin of your neck, raising goosebumps. "but i want to fuck you so well you forget your name. i don't care about what bill wants."

you look at him, desperate and needy. "i don't give a fuck what bill says. i want you, please." you say, pawing richie and kissing him needily. richie’s leaving dark love bites on the column of your neck and you know it's wrong, and you shouldn't, but you let him kick open the door into bill's room, guiding you to bill’s bed instead of yours. “please, wan’ you so bad,” you pant, the needy throbbing getting unbearable, desperate for some release.

“how bad, pretty girl?” he asks, smoothing down your hair. biting your lip, you sit on the bed, eyes level with the zipper of his pants. the sight of you staring up at him from below his hard, clothed cock makes his pants feel even tighter and he hums, "you sure?"

you nod enthusiastically, "wanna make you feel good, please." he lets out a soft noise as your hands go to pull down his fly, “filthy girl." he says lowly, making heat drip from your core. you shift, trying to relieve some pressure. you feel hot when you realize you want him to degrade you, that you love it. “god, say that again.” you moan, mouthing around his bulge. his hands come to caress your face, watching you,

"you like being my little whore, huh? so good just for me. bet you’ve thought of my cock in your mouth before, haven’t you?"

you nod, biting your lip. he grins and you’re moving to pull him out of his pants, trying to conceal your shocked face as you take in his size. your cheeks heat up, hand grazing his length and meeting his own hand as he pumps himself a few times, lining his tip up to your lips.

“open.” he says simply and you comply willingly, laying your tongue out. he’s teasing his cock on your tongue and you’re whining, desperate to feel him in your mouth, to make him feel good.

“just wait until i say so, baby.” he says, slapping your tongue lightly with his cock and making you shift on your legs, dripping wet.

he groans, one hand coming to hold your head softly, making you tingle. you watch as he stares at you, lips parted and eyes blown wide. his cock is glistening with precum as it lays on your tongue. “suck my cock pretty girl.” he mutters, caressing your cheek. so you close your lips, slowly sucking on his tip before taking a bit more, moving your head slowly.

you lick a stripe up the base of his cock and up to his tip, swirling your tongue. he groans in relief and pleasure as you take as much of him into your mouth as possible slowly, bobbing your head and taking as much in as you can. he’s bigger than anyone you’ve been with before, and the need to feel him inside you and to make him fall apart has you taking him as deep as you can.

you take him deeper, your eyes clouding with tears as you try not to gag and he hums, hands pulling your hair from your eyes - you can tell he’s straining not to buck his hips as you bob up and down on him.

“god, you feel so good, y/n.” he groans. you pull back, sucking on his tip as you swirl your tongue, catching your breath. his hands fall to your head and he gently, slowly thrusts his hips slightly. you gag, mouth wet as he pulls out of your mouth and wipes the trails of spit from your lips. “do it again, please.” you gasp, and he grins. “such a slut.”

he guides your face back to him, “tap me three times if it’s too much.” you take him in again, holding as long as you can and loving the way he’s thrusting into your mouth. he groans, both hands on your head, his chest rising and falling shakily.

"god, that’s so perfect. my good little toy.” he rumbles and your chest flutters. you feel him twitch and you sense he may be close, so you start to bob your head again.

he stops you, "no, pretty girl. i'm going to cum inside of you, okay?" you swallow, mouth dry, "okay." please.

he sinks to his knees, gently pushing you so you're laying down on the bed again, pulling your legs so they hang off the side of the mattress. he's pulling your shorts off, your underwear following as he spreads your legs wider, kissing your thighs. “look at that pretty pussy. soaked, all for me.”

you're breathing shakily as one finger rises to gently rub your slit, making you moan softly. his touch is feathery-light, teasing you and making you whine, moving your hips. "shhh." he says softly, bringing his tongue to lick up your slit. you moan out, relieved to have some sort of satisfaction. richie's hand moves up to push up your top, thumbing your nipples as he starts to suck your clit. he pins your hips down, "be a good slut and stay still for me." he says, burying his face as your toes start to curl in pleasure, the burning sensation of pleasure increasing.

he rubs circles into your hips with one hand as he slides two fingers into your heat, making you whimper, his fingers start to pick up pace as he continues to circle your clit with his tongue. his long fingers curl up inside of you, still pushing into you fast and rough, hitting your g-spot. you moan, “richie, harder, please.”

he hums, lifting his head as you gasp for breath, "since you asked so nicely, doin' everything i say." his fingers are moving again, faster than before. his tongue runs over your clit, practically moaning into your heat, fingers moving faster. you moan unabashedly, feeling yourself clench and knowing you're about to cum. your legs wrap around his shoulders as your hips move slightly,

“cum on my tongue like a good little slut, okay baby?” he says gently. you moan, eyes shutting as you see stars. you're hitting your high and then richie's watching you, praising you as you fall apart, letting out soft whimpers.

then you're sitting up as he rises from his knees, licking his lips. pulling him into a searing kiss, he crawls on top of you, rutting into you a few times before pulling back.

he's pulling himself out of his pants and you swallow around your words, resisting the shocked face that threatens to creep on to you when you see how big he is. you moan as you watch him pump himself, pulling off his shirt as you pull off your own.

he grins as he looks at you, "so good for me, my little slut. you want me to fuck you now?" he asks and you eagerly pull yourself up to your elbows, "yes, please, rich, fuck me."

he hums, pushing his cock against your slit, the tip rubbing your sensitive clit and making you moan sharply. he continues to tease you, one hand on his cock and the other holding your waist. "use me, please." you whisper in his ear, hand holding him to you from the back of his neck.

he lets out a sharp breath, hand snaking to your neck and pushing you back onto the mattress. "you want me to use you?" he asks, thrusting against you slowly, teasing your slit. "like my little plaything?"

"yes, god, richie, please-" but then he's sliding into you all at once, his large cock stretching you as he moves his hips, sheathing into you. you feel so full that all you can do is gasp, richie kissing your forehead as his hand rests on your throat. "gonna fuck you on bill's bed, okay? and you're gonna be good for me, right? my good little cockslut."

you nod yes, "so good for you." you say, and he smiles. he starts to pull out, easing back in and starting a shallow rhythm, getting you used to his size. you're euphoric as he starts to languidly pump into you, one hand on your neck and the other on your chest, palming your tit.

he starts thrusting into you, picking up speed - rough and fast. his hips buck up against you, pulling back fully before filling you up. his thumb gently grazes your sensitive clit and you grip his bare back, raking your nails down in pleasure. "do you walk around thinking of how it'd feel to get fucked by me, baby?" he whispers in your ear as he pounds you into the mattress. you moan, "yes, r-rich, i've wanted you for s-so long," you trail off into a moan. "feels so good." you mutter, panting, words babbling from your mouth incoherently.

you barely have a warning before you cum a second time, clenching so hard that richie's hips sstutter, his moan ringing with your own. he looks down at you, thumb trailing into your open mouth, you eagerly sucking on it like a lollipop. "god, you're so tight, doll. such a good little whore for me. i bet you'd let me do anything to you, anywhere."

your legs are shaking as he keeps thrusting you through your orgasm, feeling sensitive and euphoric. he smirks, "yeah? bet you'd let me fuck you anywhere, just my little fuck toy. so perfect for me."

you nod, kissing him needily, tears from oversensitivity pricking your eyes. "want you filling me up richie, feels so good."

"anywhere?" he asks, eyebrows knit in pleasure as he fucks into you. he's so possesive, it makes your face warm. you nod, "anywhere."

he's smirking, and you know he's thinking about how shocked bill would be if he found out. it makes it that much hotter as you turn and see the picture of bill and richie on the wall near the door.

then richie pulls out of you and you're being flipped onto your knees, richie's large hand pushing your face towards the soft sheets. you can't help the moans that escape you as he spits onto your dripping cunt, fingers playing with your used pussy as you moan, sensitive and still desperate. "pretty baby, all fucked out. can you take one more?" he asks, hands roaming your ass. you nod, yelping gently when a hand smacks down on your ass.

"can you take one more?" he asks. "yes!" you moan into the mattress with need. he mutters, "good girl." as he pushes into you, the new angle making you moan loudly. with every thrust, he pushes you down on the mattress, making you grip against the edge of it with pleasure. one of his hands drops down to rub your clit, and you buck needily against his touch. after only a few minutes, the combination of the snap of his hips, the few slaps on your ass, and his hands on your clit push you over the edge, clenching around his cock as you whimper. your legs barely stay up after you cum, and his arm wraps around you to hold you as he pounds into you, chasing his own high.

"yes, my pretty girl, so good." he praises again, hips speeding up. you think he's close because his breathing is faster, hands gripping your hips hard as he kisses down your spine, "take it." he whispers onto your back as he finally cums, pulling out and finishing on your ass and lower back, moaning lightly.

you can't believe what just happened as richie disappears, returning at the speed of light with a damp washcloth to clean you off. you blush at how sweet the gesture is before he falls next to you on the bed, sighing. "i'll be honest, i didn't expect that."

you laugh, "neither did i. i thought i was coming home to an empty apartment and some microwave ramen."

he's staring at you, a smirk on his face, “i'd apologize again but holy fuck, you look so pretty when you cum.” you don't know what to say, feeling hot as you roll your eyes with a grin. he laughs and kisses you, “you’re cute, you know.”

"says you." you mutter against his lips. you thank god bill won't be back soon as you watch his best friend rise, naked, from beside you and grab a spare hoodie and gym shorts from bill's closet, throwing them on before handing you his own shirt to wear.

"so, lasagna?" he asks, glasses askew slightly. you laugh as you stand on shaky legs, "it's the least you could do." you joke.

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#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier smut #losers club smut #losers x reader

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scaredofchange · 4 years

Text

Home Is Where the Heart Is - Jooheon x Reader

Pairing: Jooheon (Monsta X) x Assistant Manager!Reader

Summary: As a newly hired assistant manager for Monsta X, y/n meets a lot of ups and downs, confronts challenges and faces trials, but never had y/pronoun thought that the biggest one to this day would be Lee Jooheon.

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: mentions of anxiety; slight swearing.

A/N: If you’re not into a long introduction, then I wouldn’t recommend reading this. ‘Action’ comes later down the story since I wanted to have a strong base to write on. Still, I hope you like it!

____________________

I had been working for Starship Entertainment for the past three months. It was going smoothly as I was getting used to the different ambiance from my last job, which was working for Big Hit Entertainment. Why did I leave, you ask? Well, let’s just say I didn’t enjoy the conditions I was being moulded in as head of the human resources department.

Although I had formed friendships with Namjoon and Jungkook from BTS, as well as Soobin and Taehyun from TXT, I just had to get away from the toxicity in my office. But, all of them were extremely nice and helped me find another job in the business. Never in my life would’ve I thought to have friends like them.

The real surprise was the position they had gotten me: assistant manager for Monsta X. Ideally, I expected a human resources job, since I didn’t see myself supervising a whole group, but Namjoon insisted I was perfect for the role; even with my crippling anxiety.

Surprisingly, things were going well. The band itself had been welcoming and charming from the get-go, well expect from one member; and, my boss, the manager, was a bit less approachable at first, but I was able to show him what I was made of and he eventually warmed up to my presence.

Today, the band and I had a few interviews in front of us and, as I was vividly typing around on my work iPad, hidden in the practice room, I heard the door open on some loud laughs and heavy footsteps. I lifted my head to meet seven men joking around, dressed in mostly sports clothes.

“Good morning,” I let out in a stern voice, knowing very well they should’ve been there fifteen minutes ago.

“Hey, y/n!” squeaked Minhyuk, shocked by my presence.

My eyes set on the leader, Shownu, who simply looked at his feet, embarrassed.

“When I call a meeting, I expect you all to be on time,” I added on a serious note, glaring at them like they were children.

One thing I had learned for the past few months was that men idols were like puppies, you had to repeat the same things over and over again as well as threaten them with the casual “you ain’t going to eat if you don’t do this correctly” from time to time.

“Sorry y/n,” finally added Changkyun, much more indifferent to the situation than the others.

I took a deep sigh and shrugged my shoulders: it wasn’t worth making everyone feel uncomfortable.

“So, I just wanted to brief you on the two evening interviews,” I stated, getting on my feet and brushing the dust off of my pants.

With a common nod, they spread in front of me.

“First one is going to be live, so you know what that means: be on your best behaviour. The other one will be aired in a few weeks, but from what I’ve heard, the host is known to try and make you feel uncomfortable...”

“What does that mean?” Jooheon blurted out, confused.

I lifted my gaze to meet his; he bore it like we hadn’t had an argument a few days earlier and hadn’t spoken since then. I cleared my throat to regain my calm demeanour and broke the eye-contact.

“She’s going to ask you about your dating life,” I cleared the question, “and as usual, you need to refute having any.”

They agreed in silence, exchanging looks between one another. The fact that we needed to hide both Kihyun’s and Shownu’s girlfriends from the world was as tough as it was; we definitely did not need them to talk about romantic relationships on a live broadcast.

I babbled about a few other details like transportation and clothing before I realized that most of the group had completely lost focus and was dangling from one leg to the other.

“All right,” I mumbled more to myself than to them, “I’ll let you get to it, but please, wait for me at the bus this time, okay?”

I.M and Minhyuk giggled like two kids in kindergarten who put a piece of gum on little Wendy’s chair.

“You have to admit it was a good prank, y/n,” the maknae let out with a wide smile.

I shook my head in denial, remembering how they decided to leave without me a few weeks ago, causing a whole lot of trouble for a whole lot of nothing. I was furious and had to grab a last-minute taxi to make it in time to the studio where we were filming a very important talk-show.

“Nah, it was a shitty one,” I blurted back, squinting my eyes at him.

Still, I couldn’t hide the smirk on the corner of my lips, and the band took it as their cue to relax. A part of me did enjoy forming a friendly bond with them; it reminded me of my family. It was warm and nice, but you did also want to rip one another’s heads from time to time.

In a synchronized matter, the group made its way to the center of the room and greeted both its dance crew and choreographer. They looked eager to start practising and I wasn’t one to keep them from doing it.

But, still, I gazed at them for a few minutes; they were all-natural and comfortable like they had always belonged here. They looked cheerful, happy.

“Don’t you have work to do?” nagged Kihyun, as he started to stretch.

He raised an eyebrow and waited for my departure. I grimaced at him and chuckled at the cute smile he threw back at me. But, unfortunately, he was right. After one last look, I turned on my feet and directed myself toward the exit. I knew a boring meeting was waiting for me in the afternoon and every single fibre in my being wanted to go home; but, I decided to take a deep breath instead and clicked on the elevator’s button.

Once I jumped into it, my mind went full-on work mode and I started rummaging about various details. Interviews were a lot more difficult to plan, especially when you order around a bunch of grown-ass adult men who act like two-year-olds.

And it’s with that mindset that I entered my office on the seventh floor, a dark concentred look on my face.

[***]

“Wow, you made it,” said Minhyuk unimpressed, “we almost had to leave without you this time.”

Out-of-breath, I staggered toward the Monsta X crew bus and brushed shoulders with the driver. My meeting had lasted way too long and I barely had the time to rush down to the underground parking.

Even with the few laughs coming from the rest of the group, my mood didn’t get better. I was mad and angry at a colleague who seemed to want to make everything much more difficult; and, I hadn’t had time to grab dinner, which meant I was starving.

“Are you okay?” asked Shownu when I let myself fall on the seat next to him.

We were used to being seatmates. Since he was the leader, I spoke to him the whole way to whichever studio we were going to and informed him on many subjects. He was always calm and he listened to everything I had to say before adding a comment. Shownu was the kind of man you hold on to.

“Bad day,” I whispered, side-eyeing him.

He pouted, visibly upset at my answer. With a slight movement, he squeezed my forearm, trying to reassure me.

“You’re strong, you’ll get through it.”

I smiled at his response and he squeezed even harder.

Just like on a timer, my stomach grumbled even louder than a few minutes before, provoking a side-look from a few of the members. As if on cue, I felt something on my shoulder.

I grabbed the small bag of chips with sweaty hands; Changkyun vaguely waving it over me like it was a natural thing to do.

“Thanks, I.M,” I replied in a faint voice, hoping he knew how much that simple act meant to me.

He murmured a simple ‘you’re welcome’ and got back to his phone. Within a few minutes, we were on the road and the vehicle was silent. It didn’t even take a few seconds before I finished my snack, but I was extremely grateful for it.

After exhaling all the air in my lungs, I let my head slide on the headrest and closed my eyes. I felt my whole being doze off until I was startled by the vibration of my phone. Without thinking about it twice, I opened my eyes and grabbed it: in this business, you often have emergencies and you always have to be alert.

But, in this case, it was a simple text message. I read the name over and over again: Jooheon.

Now, my hesitation to open the message came from the very heated argument we had had a few days prior. Not to mention how I could barely cross his gaze followed suit.

I tried to remember why I was so mad... but the answer didn’t appear as easy as it had back that day.

Long story short: I was convinced he didn’t like me, like... not at all, and therefore I was always distant with him. But, that night, when I had to pick him up from a friend’s place, completely drunk, he started to blame me for, and I quote: “making things difficult”.

It was around 2 am and I was tired of his shit, so I yelled. I told him that he was acting like a child and that I had no idea why he hated me so much. Then, he threw things like: “You’re trying to get into I.M’s pants,” which startled me to the core.

When I dropped him back at the dorms, he slammed the car door and stumbled his way to the main entrance. I had never been so confused in my whole life.

So, to see his name appear on my phone brought a whole new level of anxiety. I was repulsed by the dispute we had; I found it completely useless and out-of-the-blue, and didn’t want to replicate it once again.

Still, my curiosity got me and I slid my finger on the message. The only words that were written were: “Can we talk later?”

I bit my bottom lip, not knowing exactly how I should answer it. A part of me really did want to clear the air, but another one knew that it would probably be the most unpleasant situation ever.

“Of course”

I replied those two words not knowing what was to come, but for a quick moment, I felt good about the outcomes of our future conversation, or perhaps the butterflies in my stomach reflected fear more than hope.

I heard a light ting! from the back of the bus, a simple sign that told me Jooheon had received my message loud and clear.

The rest of the journey went without any troubles, except from my very heavy head who kept falling onto Shownu’s shoulder. Even though I apologized over and over again for my lack of professionalism, the leader kept reassuring me and patting his arm for me to lay on.

Eventually, I gave up the fight and obeyed, letting my whole being evaporate in the world of dreams, hoping for the evening to go well and acutely stressing about getting a one-on-one with Jooheon.

[***]

“How did we do?” inquired Wonho after the second interview, his ears reddened because of a strangely personal question that he had been asked.

I finally was able to let out a big exhale, washing away the weight that had been on my shoulders for the past hours. I am not going to lie: I was suspicious of Monsta X’s capacity to act like real, normal adults.

“You did exceptionally,” I complimented him with a small smile.

He seemed rather satisfied with the answer and walked straight toward the other guys; half looked absolutely despaired and the other half quite relieved. I joined them and cheered them on their performance. Aside from a few side-looks and basic comments from I.M, it went as smoothly as someone could expect it to go.

“It was close to perfect guys,” I reassured them after noticing their anxious gazes, “and big thanks to Kihyun for saving it a few times, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The said-man straightened his back and smiled widely. With his small fingers, he pushed back a strand of his pink hair, like the drama queen that he is. I knew it would boost his ego a bit too much, but he did deserve the praise.

After exchanging on a few other points, it was quickly time to leave. Two cars were waiting for the group back outside, ready to bring them back to their dorms. I, on the other, usually had a habit of going back to my Starship office to wrap up the day nicely.

Therefore, having completely forgotten about Jooheon’s previous text message, I hopped in the closest taxi, screaming goodbyes from behind my back.

It was only when I arrived at my messy desk that I realized my mistake. “Shit”, I thought, my mind running to find a solution. With a sigh, I rubbed my eyes, not caring about my makeup anymore, and grabbed my phone.

“I’m sorry; I forgot you wanted to talk.”

I typed quickly and slid my iPhone back in my pocket, knowing I had a lot of paperwork to fill. I kept praying that Jooheon would not take my fast departure from the studio as a sign of unwillingness of talking with him.

Around twenty minutes later, even though I was already focused on my task, I grasped my phone the second it vibrated. I caught myself in a weird smile when I noticed Honey’s name and shook my head in proper denial.

“I went back to my studio, if you still want to talk, I’ll be there,” he wrote.

What was he doing back at the office too? Was he, just like, unable to go back home if his head was filled with thoughts? Thoughts that were not always welcomed?

Without thinking about it twice, I stepped on my feet and left the office straight to the elevators. To my surprise, my heart started to beat faster, like I was both excited and scared, anticipating the conversation.

The thing with Jooheon was my absolute inability to think whenever he was around. At first, I was expecting some resistance from some members of the group, but never from Honey. So, when I had to face an unsatisfied and uninterested main rapper, my brain stopped working and perhaps that didn’t help my case. I remember vividly how the first time he engaged with me, with a stern tone, I started to stutter and mumble, like a child facing an angry mother.

Maybe it was my admiration toward him that kept me from functioning normally, or maybe it was how intimidating he was, contrary to what I believed before I met him.

To be honest, before our very first meeting, I binge-watched a load of YouTube videos, trying to seize their personalities and how I should approach them, both individually and as a band; apparently, they weren’t as instructive as someone would think.

Still, it was part of the job, being clueless. We all learn while making mistakes; that’s how I had gotten where I was and, I was sure, how the rest of my life would be.

With slightly shaky legs, I stepped out of the elevator and directed myself toward Jooheon’s studio. I couldn’t hear a sound coming from it, but then again, it was a soundproof room.

I knocked lightly at first, then a bit more strongly, hoping he hadn’t left already.

Within a few seconds, as my breath started to shorten, Honey opened the door. His dark hair was dishevelled as if he had been running his hands through it the whole night; he had small dark circles under his eyes; the top of his buttoned shirt was undone; and, he was, for some reason, barefoot.

“Wrong timing?” I supposed, my eyes analyzing him from head to toe.

He shook his head in denial and stood aside, letting me some space to enter the room.

As I did so, I noticed how my head was filling up with strange thoughts, such as: “Wow, he looks so good” and “Could he get more attractive?”; thoughts that had never been mine before, which provoked deep foreign warmth in the pit of my stomach.

“What are you working on?” I mumbled, trying to make conversation while Jooheon pulled a second chair for me to sit on.

“Just some new songs,” he replied tiredly.

I nodded and watched his multiple monitors, remembering that one sound mixing class I had had a million years ago.

“Can’t wait to hear them,” I added, genuinely excited about it.

He shyly smirked, his irises looking over at every detail of my face; perhaps was he trying to find indications of my mood. Truth was, I had no idea how I felt about this.

“You wanted to talk?” I initiated the topic with a somewhat trembling voice.

I cleared my throat, in hopes that he hadn’t noticed.

With a quick nod, he shuffled on his seat and locked gaze with mine. I held it like my life was depending on it.

“About the other night,” he started smoothly, “I wanted to apologize for my behaviour.”

Surprised, I raised my eyebrows. I didn’t expect this at all.

“I didn’t mean what I said, I was drunk,” he then stated.

“Didn’t you, though?” I rapidly blurted out, not even thinking about it, “Mean it?”

It was his turn to be taken aback. It was like I had punched him in the gut. He stepped back on his chair, which rolled away slightly, and started to shake his head vehemently.

Before he could add anything else, I took the lead.

“Where I come from, it is said that people, when drunk, say the things they don’t dare to say when sober. So, I’m asking you again: did you mean what you said?”

It was a bit rough on the edges, I admit, but it was direct and that’s all that mattered to me.

He inhaled and let his head fall on his headrest. I could almost see the gears work in his brain as if he was trying to come up with the perfect answer. The thing he didn’t know though was: there wasn’t any.

“It’s not that I didn’t mean it,” he finally started to speak up after a good thirty seconds, “but I didn’t mean the way I told it, you know?”

I acquiesced with a nod, waiting for him to continue. Honey bit his bottom lip like what he was fighting what he was about to say next.

“I just don’t like the way you’re so close with the other members, especially with I.M.”

I raised my eyebrows almost automatically.

“Excuse me?” I gasped, getting on my feet. “Are you still suggesting I’m trying to get, and I quote: into Changkyun’s pants?”

Furious, I crossed my arms on my chest and glared at him. Rapidly, Honey jumped on his feet too and got a bit closer, trying to keep me from leaving.

“Y/n, stop it,” he ordered with a deep voice, “you’re not listening to me.”

I scoffed abruptly, searching for a reply.

“I am listening to you, dumbass. What do you think I’m doing?”

“No, you’re not really listening to what I’m saying.”

“Then be clearer!”

“I don’t know how I can be! You don’t wanna listen!”

Our voices were getting elevated and the room was warming up to both our anger.

“Jooheon, I’m not in your fucking head, so just say what you really want to say. You think that, what, I wanna fuck I.M, is that it? Or all the members while at it? What is your problem?”

“What? That is not at all what I think! I just don’t like the way you’re so... friendly with them!”

He was starting to look incredibly desperate, but I had to get my answers.

“And what does it change that I’m friendly? Can’t I be their friends? It’s not my fault that you’ve been an ass since the beginning and that you don’t want to be my friend!”

“Who said that?”

“You, obviously. Maybe not with words, but you don’t need words to communicate your absolute disdain toward me,” I replied a bit less confidently than before.

Jooheon looked absolutely horrified by those words. With his mouth agape, he searched my eyes for any signs of lies, but there weren’t: I really did think he hated me.

As if taken by a sudden sadness, my eyes started to water. I hated the way I cried when I was angry, but what can you do?

My heart was beating so fast I was afraid it might burst out my chest.

The main rapper stood there, speechless, for what seemed like hours. I swiftly wiped away a tear that was threatening to fall and looked at my feet like a coward.

Where would this conversation take us? What good did it make?

I was filling up my head with useless questions when Honey moved.

I was shocked when he stepped closer and lifted my chin with a trembling finger, locking his eyes with mine. Gently, he placed both his hands on each side of my face and held them there.

I could see how he was gathering the courage to speak, so I gave him the time he needed; I didn’t budge.

But there isn’t one thing that could’ve prepared me for what he said next.

Not one.

With his eyes still searching mine, he opened his mouth:

“I have nothing, and I mean nothing, but pure admiration for you, y/n. I have never felt any disdain toward you, you are basically the definition of perfect,” he breathed out the last word in a murmur.

I was paralyzed, completely frozen in place, but that didn’t stop him from going.

“Can’t you see?” he asked rhetorically, “I don’t like the way you’re so close with other members because I want your attention all to myself. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. Every day that I come up here, I hope I can get a smile from you or even a single word. I think about you all the time and it’s driving me crazy.”

I hadn’t noticed the tears streaming down my face until he wiped some with his thumbs.

“You don’t have to say anything, of course,” he tried to take the pressure off of my back, “but you have to know the truth, and the truth is that I like you way more than I should and that I’m jealous of every moment you spend with I.M, or Minhyuk, or Wonho, or every single one of my friends, because I want you all to myself, y/n.”

He was apprehending the worst, I could see it in his eyes, eye-contact that he finally broke out of fear, and in the way he was ready to just let me go, but I didn’t want that, I didn’t want him to let me go. Not now, not ever.

“Jooheon...” I whispered, slowly placing my palm on one of his hands.

His eyes jerked back to me, hope filling his irises.

Words didn’t need to be exchanged anymore, I knew that. They already had been and I was tired of reading between the lines, of not knowing where to stand, so I took upon me to make things clear.

My head was empty when I crashed my lips onto his; I wasn’t thinking about anything. The only part of my body that was experiencing something was my heart. Whether it was by its multiplied beatings or its desire to feel Jooheon: I didn’t know, but I sure as hell knew I was alive.

Instead of being surprised or pulling back as I had expected, Honey welcomed me with strength and passion. The kiss began delicately, like the flappings of a butterfly’s wings, but it deepened rapidly, descending into a powerful hurricane, sweeping everything that dared be on its way.

His tongue eventually found mine in a synchronized matter. As I grabbed his neck with both my arms, he let his hands slide on my waist, pulling me against him.

I was taken by the sudden urge of giving him my all; my absolute everything. I closed what was left of the gap between us and slid my hand over the back of his neck, passing my fingers through his hair.

The kiss deepened even more which I didn’t think possible. The mix of the taste of my tears and the heat of the room made it all so delicious.

But, unfortunately, we are humans and we need air, so at a certain moment, maybe minutes after we let ourselves go, we had to pull back, but only slightly.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment,” Jooheon murmured, his face still centimetres away from mine.

“Of course I do, I waited as long, didn’t I?” I smiled.

He titled his head to one side and admired me in a way no one had ever done. I bit my bottom lip, the taste of Jooheon still lingering on it.

“You’re so beautiful,” he finally let out, a smirk creeping on his lips.

His dimples showed, causing another wave of warmth to climb up my spine. It was definitely one of my favourite physical features on him.

“Thank you, you’re not too bad looking yourself,” I teased while raising an eyebrow.

He openly laughed and pulled me closer once again. That time, when his lips found mine, it didn’t feel strange, foreign.. no. It felt intimate, familiar, dare I say ‘perfect’. Like my arms had always belonged around his neck; like his hands were perfectly meant for my waist. Everything was falling into place, like a puzzle that had long been waiting to be completed.

What it meant for our future, I had no idea. But, one thing was sure: whether this was the start of something new or not, I knew, for certain, that I was at the right place.

Because, wherever Jooheon was, I belonged.

He was my heart, he was my home.

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