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hannieween · 5 months ago

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chaser | heartbreaker series | c.sc

Breakups are tough. For years, you had to push your feelings down to try and move on. But now, you were back again with Choi Seungcheol, rekindling the ardent flame of your love, and lost promises.

✧ pairing: choi seungcheol x female reader ✧ genre: angst, fluff, smut (18+) ✧ aus: bar owner seungcheol, ex seungcheol, secret relationship ✧ word count: 15.8k

→ previous chapters – read more

› smut warnings under the cut

✧ warnings: smut with plot, dubcon (slight somnophilia), daddy kink, dom seungcheol, sub reader, reader is on birth control, big dick seungcheol, multiple sex scenes (these two are unstoppable), literal love making, pussy eating, morning sex, unprotected p in v sex, creampies, overstimming, rough fucking, manhandling, dirty talk, edging, seungcheol is kind of a menace, creampies, aftercare, pillowtalk, exhibitionism: groping in the workspace, quickie in the workspace. pet names: love, baby, angel (hers) daddy, babe (his) ✧ author's note: this is very long overdue, i kept putting it off and on because i wasn't feeling it and honestly, the city lights series is kind of a hyperfixation of mine so... yeah hehe. i hope you like this!! (❁´◡`❁) ✧ disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂

part iv

It was more than just a dream.

You remember everything quite well. It was one of those games in which you were certain that Seungcheol could get anything he wanted only by his determination.

Seungcheol was sweaty. His long black hair stuck to the back of his neck and his forehead. He grabbed the hem of the red jersey he wore, lifted it up, to clean the sweat on his upper lip, revealing his abdomen in the process.

You remember overhearing the chattering and muffled giggles from the girls sitting behind you on the bleachers. You didn't bother to look back, or to even try and listen to what they were saying. Because all eyes were on him.

Seungcheol was the team captain, top of his class. And he was hot as fuck. So that made him inadvertently popular around the campus.

It also didn't help that he was putting on a show. It was late at night but the misty summer breeze didn't help to alleviate the heat that had him covered in sweat, plus the exercise he got from running on the field.

He would let his head hang back a little as he crossed the field with a slow, exhausted walk, recovering with hard and deep breaths before jumping on a sprint. Sometimes, whenever he was just on standby, he would grab his shirt by the hem and lift it upwards, fanning some air to his sweaty tummy.

Slowly, you felt the dream slip away from you as wakefulness started to kick in. You tried to hold on to the faint slivers of your dream, to the memory of Seungcheol's gummy smile, running to you, victorious.

You were fully awake now, but you had to force yourself to remember. He lifted you in his arms, spinning you around, laughing at the squeal you made. It was his last game as a university student. And he had won, just as he always did.

"You won, baby," he told you.

"I didn't, you did," you smiled at him, encircling his neck with your arms.

"You gave me luck," he said, as he always did.

The sunlight poured through the tall windows and onto the large bed, until slowly as the morning rolled in, you felt its warm soaking on your skin, pouring slowly onto your exposed arm and chest, and then onto your face.

Upon blinking you realized that you had shed some tears in your sleep.

A heavy arm slid on your waist and circled your torso with a pleased sigh, pulling you so his front was pressed to your back. The warmth radiating from his body was unlike the sunlight creeping onto your bodies. It was snuggly and familiar.

Seungcheol hummed softly, half asleep but conscious enough to plant a kiss in your hair, nuzzling his face with another soft sigh. The arm wrapped around you moved again, his hand sliding to the centre of your tummy.

You were still trying to come to terms that you were back to reality, barely aware of what Seungcheol was up to when with a small grunt, he moved his body on top of yours, littering your chest with kisses, trailing down to your tummy.

In seconds, his hands were angling your thighs open for him, kissing your lower tummy, making you arch your back to get more of his open kisses, the slight brush of his wet lips against your inner thighs making you open your eyes.

You brought up a hand to gather your tears, feeling a bit puzzled as the other hand found his head nuzzled between your languid thighs, when his teeth grazed your skin softly, bringing out a groggy moan from you.

Your hands quickly grabbed the sides of his head. "Babe?" you rasped. "Cheol, what are you doing?"

His mouth was already sliding on your mound with sweet, wet kisses, trailing down to lick and softly bite your pussy lips, bringing you back to life in a second.

"Baby, oh god, yes," you mewled, body jolting on the bed, you pulled back the bedsheets, uncovering your body, Seungcheol between your thighs as he slowly began to push his mouth between your folds, kissing you openly.

You arched your back instinctively, letting out a raspy moan as his tongue laved generously at the arousal already pooling at your entrance.

Your mind fragmented between the dream and reality. Your ex-boyfriend's hair was long, but now it was dyed in a pale blond. As you propped yourself up on one elbow, you saw his upper back, stockier than you remembered it.

But there was no denying that no matter how long it had passed, Seungcheol still knew you like the back of his hand. He pushed a hand on your lower tummy, very close to your mound, leaving the top of it exposed, your swollen clit to the mercy of his tongue.

Seungcheol paused, casting a loving look at you before diving right back into your pussy, letting out a raspy hum like a man starved, his free hand creeping up to your chest, finding your breast to give a gentle squeeze with his fingers, a thumb brushing over your nipple.

"Cheol," you called softly, fingers grazing his scalp as you held onto his hair. "Just like that, daddy, please."

He groaned in response, moving his tongue in swift side to side movements on your clit, his hand pressing harder on your lower tummy, the feeling in your cunt intensifying.

"Oh god!" you gasped when his fingers pinched your nipple and tugged at it, caressing your boob with his fingers just to hear more of the noises you made.

He trapped your puffy clit between his lips, pulling at it, causing smacking noises as he continued to do it repeatedly, humming in your pussy, the sound vibrating in your sensitive bud.

"Cheol," you mewled, closing your eyes to the pleasure burning in your body. "God, daddy, I'm close," you whispered.

He wrapped his lips around your clit, immediately starting to suckle at it, the slurping sounding loudly in between your lewd whimpers and sharp gasps.

You used the hand clenching on his hair to press him down your cunt almost as a reflex before your head lolled back, pleasure consuming your body quickly, tingling in your face and making you cry out his name.

As your orgasm flooded inside your body, Seungcheol continued teasing your clit with his mouth, waiting for you to relax into your high. His big eyes darted a look up at you, but his mouth didn't relent.

"Mmn, Cheol," you called in a breathy tone, being that you were a languid mess. "So good."

His tongue pressed flatly on your core again, drinking in your arousal with a pleased and raspy moan.

Seungcheol didn't say anything, pressing kisses on your pussy lips before detaching his mouth from it, pulling his body back so he stood on his knees.

The bed covers and the sheets fell from his back. Your eyes roamed all over his body, wholly naked in between your thighs. His milky white skin bathed by the morning sunlight contrasting beautifully with the dark backdrop of his bedroom.

You would never get enough of such a sight. His body was perfect, his broad chest and beefy and strong arms that held you throughout the night, his meaty thighs, his long and thick cock, standing fully hard now. Seungcheol was perfect.

Seungcheol noticed your eyes on him, giving you a smile that could heal every wound, every ache you have ever felt. Your heart jolted in your chest, you loved him so much still that you could sob.

"You're okay there, baby?" he asked softly. There was a light frown on his face, probably noticing the tears brimming in your eyes.

You nodded, leaning your back into the mattress and you extended a hand to him. "I need you. Right now, Cheol."

Seungcheol trusted you. He knew that if you were not okay, you would speak out. But that didn't ease the frown. He moved his body on top of you, his big arms framing your head, his face leaning closer to yours.

"Are you sure? Am I doing something wrong?" he whispered with genuine worry lacing his tone.

You used the proximity to his face to press feathery kisses on his lips. "No, I'm sure," you whispered. "Don't stop, please, Cheol."

The corner of his lips quirked up slightly, but he didn't reply verbally. He moved one arm from the side to your head, sneaking it between your body and his to grab his cock, guiding it to your core.

"Look at me, angel," he breathed, nudging his cockhead in your entrance.

If you could lose yourself in those sweet, but dark eyes, you would. As he started pushing in, you felt the muscles of your face go lax, making your mouth part.

Seungcheol mimicked your expression, his full lips parting as he sheathed himself inside you slowly, a quiet, strangled groan coiling in his throat, making his Adam's apple bob.

His eyebrows knitted when his hips met your own, making him sigh deeply, his cock fully inside you now, his arm returned to frame your head and you realized that you had pushed your eyebrows inward too.

Your hands held onto his strong shoulders, then your fingernails dug deeply into the hard muscle on his back, making him moan as he dragged his thick cock back and pushed it right into your tight and warm walls.

"God," he breathed, his eyelids fluttering when he closed them briefly.

The experience of being with him after so long of being apart was nearly mind-shattering for a second. You never wanted something more than being with him like this, the nights spent dreaming with memories of him... and now you were there. It was real.

"Seungcheol?" you called, your voice tiny, but quivering slightly.

"Yes, baby?" he rasped, hips rolling slowly on top of yours, moving his cock inside you at a deliciously good pace.

You shivered slightly when his fingers grazed your scalp, twisting gently in the locks of your hair.

"Baby? What's wrong?" he asked softly, his brow furrowed again when your eyes finally let your tears go.

You moved one hand from his back, meeting his cheek. A tiny sob broke inside you when Seungcheol leaned his face against the palm of your hand. The movement was almost instinctive, as though his body remembered all of the times he did that in the past.

"I love you," you whispered.

For a moment, it seemed that the world had stopped, because your heart had. It had been years since you uttered those words to anyone, and the last person to hear those words coming from you was him.

His dark eyes glinted with some emotion, reading the features of your face swiftly. His frown had relaxed the moment he heard you utter those words to him.

"I love you," he whispered back, gulped hard and dropped his forehead on top of yours with a moany sigh. "I love you. I love you."

You sobbed, your other hand finding his other cheek so you were cupping his face fully now, lips meeting in tender and brief kisses as he kept moving his hips in deep and slow thrusts.

"Cheol," you sighed, instinctively pushing your knees back angling your hips for him to push his own against yours, his cock reaching deeper in this new position.

"I'm here, baby," he whispered, and then with a sharp intake of breath, added: "I never stopped loving you."

"Neither did I," you breathed.

Seungcheol let out a sound between a raspy moan and sighed as he crushed his mouth with yours, kissing you deeply, as if trying to convey all of the I love yous he didn't get to say when you left.

His chest pressed flush against yours as he rolled his hips on yours. "You are my everything," he muttered, though his voice broke halfway through the sentence.

You knew him well enough to know that he struggled with saying what his heart felt. So hearing that caused a powerful shudder in you. "You are too, Seungcheol," you whispered, swallowing your tears. "Always have been."

"I missed you so much," he continued, as if in a maddened frenzy, pushing his hips slowly and urgently, his pace pushing your body in the sheets slightly, if it were now for his arms framing your head.

"I missed you too," you breathed, running your fingers through his hair to then link them on his nape. "Everyday, all the time."

"God, baby," he whispered, squeezing his eyelids shut for a second. "Angel, I'm close."

You only nodded with your head, not caring anymore about coming for a second time, you just wanted to feel him, to hear his raspy moans and sighs, to be this close to him.

However, Seungcheol thought differently. "I want you to come again," he said, hooking one of your legs on his shoulder expertly, and then the other.

Your eyes brimmed with tears of pleasure as he pushed his cock inside you but deeper this time, eliciting a long and raw moan from you from the change. Your hands tightened the grip on his hard biceps as his hips plowed on you.

"God, " you mewled as your head sank back on the pillow, writhing under his body. "Please, please, Cheol, don't stop, please."

"That's it, angel," he praised, sighing a pleased smile that wrinkled the corners of his eyes. But then, you could see his own orgasm overtaking him, his dark eyes glazing over the overwhelming pleasure, his lower lip quivering slightly as he let out a guttural moan but his eyes never left your face, watching your face as you came around him. "That's it, baby. Come for me."

As if on command, you felt pleasure blooming inside you, waves of bliss washing and sizzling from under your skin. The feeling so strong that you had to squeeze your eyes for a second, seeing stars in the sudden darkness. "Fuck," you mouthed, being overcome by ecstasy. "Cheol, babe," you mewled.

"I'm here," he whispered. "Look at me, baby," he pleaded in a louder, raspy tone.

When you opened your eyes, you saw his lips parting, his eyes glistening, his nose wrinkled a little bit before he grunted with his mouth slightly opened. "God, baby," he groaned, pushing his hips against you sloppily, his cock clamped by your pulsating warmth, tipping him over too.

You moved your hand to cup his cheek, locking eyes with him as he came. There was a sense of satisfaction filling your chest when he too, looked overwhelmed by pleasure. He sucked in a breath, and a grunt left his mouth next, thrusting his cum inside you slowly and forcefully, until he stopped, breathless.

Your hand slided on his cheek, running the pad of your thumb on his lower lip as you kept your gaze on the features of his face, smiling at him when he did the same, moving one hand clumsily to caress your face.

"Hi, baby," he sighed heavily, his red lips stretching in a wide smile.

"Hi, Cheol," you giggled, his gaze softening when he heard your laugh.

"Are you okay, love?" he asked then, his eyes roaming over the features of your face, reading you expertly.

"Yeah, I'm okay, babe," you gave him a nod with your head.

"Are you sure?" he insisted, his hand on your cheek slipped beneath your head, leaning over to leave a kiss on your forehead.

"I was just feeling a little sentimental," you mumbled, pushing his long blond hair back, using the pads of your fingers to caress his face. "I dreamt of you, that's all," you explained, now toying with the earrings adorning his earlobe.

"Oh, yeah?" he whispered with a sweet, endearing looking grin. "What did you dream about that got you tearing up, baby?"

"Remember your last match in uni?" you ventured to ask, pausing for him to give you a short nod with his head. "That's it, I guess it was more like a memory than a dream."

"And that was the reason you were crying, baby?" his tone was sweet, his dark, glistening eyes still outlining your features. He grinned when you nodded at him again. "Really? Why?"

"I'm–I just miss you," you whispered nervously, choking up with the memory of him in his university days, when your relationship was blooming and you felt like nothing could tear you down, as long as you were with him.

"I'm here, baby," he leaned over, bumping the tip of his nose with yours before he pressed his smiling lips on yours, grazing them before he locked yours in a brief, warm kiss. "Not going anywhere."

You giggled. "Neither will I," you mumbled with a shaky voice, feeling like you were threading down a dangerous path with that sentence.

"I'm not letting you go either way," he replied, his tone had dropped to a raspy low one.

"Promise?"

"I promise," he replied with certainty. "I meant what I said, I'm ready for us," he said and you pretty much understood that he was calling back to the big discussion you had when you finalized your relationship with him.

"I'm ready too," you said, choking up again at the memory of that night.

"I know," he smirked.

After all, he knew you better than anyone in the world.

He propped his hands on the pillows to peel his body off yours, thus pulling out of your sopping wet walls, with a tired grunt. "Come here," he whispered when he climbed off the bed.

You obediently crawled to the edge of the bed, where he promptly lifted you up, bridal style. "You know I can walk there," you smiled at the proud look on his face.

"And you know that you don't have to, baby," he replied, the tips of his ears turning red. "Don't pretend you don't like it."

That made you giggle giddily. "You may have a point there, Cheol," you shrugged slightly.

Seungcheol set you down on the bathroom floor, turning his back on you to reach out to turn the shower on. You looked around the room, aimlessly.

"What?" he asked, his eyebrow cocking up slightly when he read your face.

"Can you... give me a minute, please?" you asked meekly.

"Seriously?" he started with a breathy laugh. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I'm serious!" you replied in kind.

"Why are you being shy about that?" he asked bewilderedly. "I've seen you pee before. Like thousands of times."

You scrunched up your face in a grimace. "Please, babe. I don't know if I can hold it anymore."

His laugh bounced on the walls of the polished bathroom. "Okay, okay!" he replied, still giggling himself silly.

But he did not turn and walk out of the bathroom, instead, he just simply hopped in the shower, closing the glass door and moving to stand under the shower head.

"Babe!" you squealed, eliciting another goofy laugh from him.

"What, I'm not watching!" he protested. "My eyes are closed!"

You sat on the toilet, biting your lower lip in concentration, feeling your brow furrow and you let out a big sigh.

Seungcheol heard that. "Baby, just go," he sneaked a look through the glass door of the shower, hair completely wet and pushed back, his naked, gorgeous body glistening wet.

"I can't if you're watching me," you said shyly, a smile breaking the concentration written in your face.

"Why? You've done it in front of me before," he shrugged and returned to stand under the stream of water. "Countless times."

"Yeah but..." you sighed again, but now in relief as you finally could relieve yourself.

Seungcheol smiled when you stepped into the shower floor afterwards, moving so you could stand beneath the showerhead. "What were you saying?"

"Nothing," you pressed your lips into a smile. "You're right, I was just feeling shy."

"It's okay baby. I get it," he shrugged, his eyes set on the movements of your body as you started rubbing your shampoo on your scalp.

"I guess we have been away from each other for so long that it's hard to get myself back to how we were before."

The honesty in your words was so blunt that it hit you only after you had already uttered them. Time froze for a second and you blinked the water from your lashes to sneak a look to his face.

He looked solemn, nodding slowly but you noticed the sad glint in his eyes, dimming the natural spark in them. "I understand," he muttered, but you noticed right away that he felt rejected. "I don't want you to feel pressured into doing stuff that we used to do like before. We can take it step by step. Mark new boundaries."

And with that, he stepped out of the shower, leaving you to continue showering in your own space.

Seungcheol was so quick to jump back to the relationship that he did not share the same burden that you carried. It was stupid, but you still felt like you had a lot to atone. And that stopped you from jumping with him.

You felt bad, but not only because of the dejectedness your words caused Seungcheol to feel. You felt bad for all of the time that you lost while being away from him. You felt bad for not being able to pick up where you left off with him.

And you wanted to change that, consequences be damned.

Kim Mingyu missed his shift for the second time the following day.

He sent a text early in the morning in the group chat, telling Seungcheol he had family matters to tend to.

But Seungcheol knew Mingyu well enough to tell when he was bullshitting.

"He's not doing great at the moment," Wonwoo informed his boss as they were setting up before open hours.

"I'll talk to him," Seungcheol stated with decisiveness, drawing a curious glance from you.

"Sure, boss?" Wonwoo asked. "I can do it. He's been avoiding everyone."

Wonwoo brought a hand to his nape, scratching aimlessly as he appeared to consider something over a moment. "On second thought..." he paused, then brought a lithe finger to push up the frames sitting on the nose of his bridge. "I think it's a good idea. You should talk to him, boss. Maybe he'll listen to you."

Seungcheol gave no verbal reply. He just nodded his pale blond head and disappeared behind the kitchen doors.

"Is Mingyu alright, though?" you asked curiously as you wiped a glass jar with a dishcloth.

"Absolutely not," Wonwoo confessed with a hollow laugh. "He's been a mess. He doesn't leave his room."

Wonwoo was worried, you could tell from the way the muscles above his eyebrows dipped slightly.

"And you think Seungcheol talking to him is a good idea?" you wondered, a genuine curiosity reverberating in your tone.

Wonwoo sent a side glance at you. The tall man was standing beside you, now that you were overtaking Mingyu's position for the day. It was a very slow day though, but Seungcheol had asked for you to cover.

"Boss might not be the most tactful guy I know," Wonwoo muttered between his teeth, sending casual glances to the kitchen doors. "But he definitely has more experience than me around... this stuff."

You stilled for a fraction of a second before resuming to clean the next jar. "What do you mean?" you pressed, trying to sound as unknowingly as you could.

"Mmn, let's just say that I've never been through a breakup like this," he put in with a nonchalant tone. "But boss has."

Your heart skipped a beat, sending a painful spasm in your chest. "Oh," you blinked. "I didn't know that."

It appeared as though Wonwoo believed your lie, pressing his lips into a tight line as he nodded slowly. "I met him after it happened, but it apparently shocked everyone that knew him and his ex. We have some friends in common, so that's how I heard of it."

"Sounds like a big breakup," you smiled stiffly.

"Yeah, I mean," Wonwoo cocked his head towards the very big neon sign on the wall behind the bartop that read Heartbreaker in red letters.

You filled your tummy with a big breath to suppress the guilt trying to set right in. "That explains some things," you sighed awkwardly.

"I've only heard stories," Wonwoo said with a low tone, still sending cautious glances at the kitchen door. "Boss has never actually said nothing about it. Well, to be honest, he rarely ever tells nothing about himself. He's all work."

"Really?" your voice shot up slightly.

Wonwoo's gaze panned over to where you stood behind the bartop. "Really. I've known him for two years already, he's never said a thing," he told you casually. "But I met him through a friend who knows him from a while back so, word got around that he was left broken pretty badly."

You had expected to hear something like this, but not from Wonwoo, not from someone that was not aware that it was you who broke his heart. The guilt consumed you like a fiery discomfort settling on the pit of your stomach, but with a gulp of air, you tried your best to compose yourself.

It was too late, Wonwoo had his head tilted to one side, his eyes analyzing your face. He didn't budge like you did, when Seungcheol came back to the general area.

"Everything alright?" Seungcheol asked, noticing the very evident interruption in the conversation.

"Everything alright, boss," Wonwoo replied without deterring his eyes from your face, a second passed and then he turned to Seungcheol. "Are you handling the tables tonight, then?"

"It's a slow day, so I might help you out here and there," he looked around, a frown on his face. "Where is the new kid? Chan."

Wonwoo shook his head. "He only comes on the weekends."

"Right," Seungcheol scrunched up his nose, palming the lacquered bartop with his hand. "Well, then I'm going to be handling the tables tonight. And maybe we should think of hiring more people starting next month."

He pressed his lips into a line before walking to the door that led to the back of the bar and disappeared.

"What is your deal with him, anyway?" Wonwoo asked abruptly, grabbing a box of beers to place in an organized rows inside the fridges.

"I just... want to understand why he is like this," you explained, though your words were uncertain, making your tone sound hollow.

"It was worse when I met him," he muttered, stretching his arm into the fridge to obsessively place the bottles into neat rows. "Like you said, he is not that bad now. And to be fair, he hasn't been nearly as bad to you as he was to Mings when he was the newbie."

You realized that the bottles were organized by the brewing style as well. "I see," you replied unconvincingly.

Wonwoo closed the door of the fridge for a moment, wiping his hands with a dry cloth as he took some reluctant steps towards you. "In fact, he's gotten a lot better lately. It wasn't until you arrived here that he got all pissy again."

"Is that so?" you asked, trying to keep a blank face, but you were pretty sure that he had you all figured out already.

"That's so," Wonwoo said, his voice dropping to a mere whisper, the corner of his mouth curved up slightly.

You and your stupid mouth.

You knew there was no issue with Seungcheol if Wonwoo and Mingyu knew about your shared past. He has told you time and time again that you could trust the two bartenders because he trusts them both with his life.

The truth was, you were scared. You didn't want to bear witness to Wonwoo or Mingyu treating you differently if they knew you were partially the reason why their boss had this reputation of being a jerk.

But it was clear that Wonwoo, being the detective that he was, had already noticed your very difficult to hide attraction to Seungcheol. That, on top with your brief interrogation might be two things to put together, thus uncovering you as the evil ex that left him badly broken.

"Maybe he likes you," he shrugged, clicking his tongue and sucking in a slow breath.

"Wonwoo!" you reprimanded in an scandalous fashion, dropping your hands at your sides and you felt the muscles of your eyes stretch wildly. "You can't know that!"

Jeon Wonwoo laughed, the bridge of his nose wrinkling in the process so he had to push his glasses back up with the tip of his finger. "I mean, that's the only explanation in my mind. Why would he get this pissy? Maybe he finds a certain attraction for you but can't really express it, you know? He's a difficult man when it comes to that stuff."

"What do you mean?" you tilted your head to one side, pretending to be completely clueless.

"He uh..." he shot a look to the door that led to the backrooms. And being certain that the coast was clear, he continued, he even leaned back against the door of the fridge. "I shouldn't be telling you this, but I am also intrigued, so, whatever," he shrugged. "He dated someone briefly not long ago, cut it off shortly after, worst week of my life."

A sharp pain crossed your heart like a lightning bolt, making the muscles of your face freeze. "Of your life?" you tried smiling but it came out as a stiff recoil of your facial features. "Seems a bit much, doesn't it?"

"I'm not saying that to make it about myself, I get how it sounds but," he sighed, rolling his eyes. "The man was pissed off all the time."

"Well, maybe it just didn't work out like he expected," you muttered, pretending to be cleaning the surface of the bartop thoroughly, but your heart was pounding a mile per second, each pump hurting your chest, robbing you of air.

A thought crossed the back of your mind: the way Seungcheol comfortably threw the comment of you dating other people, having sex with other people during the time you were abroad. He assumed that you also moved on, because he had too.

Wonwoo muttered something under his breath that sounded like: "It makes me wonder," but did not proceed to tell you more. And you did not push.

Because you were trying with all of your might to appear uninterested. Even if Wonwoo was apparently open to the idea to talk about your boss behind his back, you were completely unequipped to take this new information with a blank face.

"So have you found a place to stay?" Wonwoo asked some minutes after.

You understood that the question came from a place of genuine interest and not just because he wanted to change the subject of conversation. "Yeah, I'm staying with someone," you pressed your lips in a tight smile when your voice broke at the last word.

"Oh, that's good to hear," he muttered, resuming to place the beer bottles neatly on the shelves of the fridge. "So you do have friends after all."

"What is that supposed to mean now?" you laughed and you noticed him raise his eyes above the rim of his glasses to take a look at your smile.

He smiled too. "You said you didn't have friends, if I remember correctly," he muttered with an awkwardness about his manner.

"You don't," you chuckled. "I never said that. I do have friends... just not that many."

"Imaginary friends don't count."

"He's not imaginary, he's very real!" you protested with a high-keen tone.

"He?" he huffed with a small grin. "So it's just one friend."

"Yeah," you sighed shamefully, your tone dropping to a tiny one. "Just one."

"Well, consider me and Mings as friends," he closed the fridge, swinging the cloth over his shoulder. "So it's plural now. Friends."

Friends.

Something warm and cozy filled your chest. It felt nice, it felt right.

"I usually don't drink on mondays," Yoon Jeonghan stated, looking down at the table as the large jug of pale beer was set in the middle along with your food.

"You're gonna," you replied to him, pouring him and yourself a glass.

"Damn, you do need it," his eyes widened and his jaw dropped in a wide smile.

"I do," you sighed, chugging the half of your glass before stopping to breathe. "I don't think I can do this sober."

He chuckled with his mouth wide open. "Fair enough," he lifted his glass and drank, throwing you a curious glance.

"What?" you inquired.

He let out a breath after chugging half of his glass to be on par with you. "Nothing, it's just... I never thought I would see you again, y'know?"

"I could say the same," you admitted.

"Before you start explaining and I really do want to hear your version of this, let me put you in my perspective," he spoke fast, and you could tell he was nervous because he was bouncing on his seat like a little kid.

"Okay," you conceded, though it was unnecessary because this was Jeonghan, he was going to have his way.

He set his palms down on the restaurant table. "One night you were telling me that you were dropping all of your plans of getting your master's degree and the next day, you were gone."

You blinked and nodded, understanding how the situation looked for him.

He continued. "I had to find out from your crazy ass parents that you were gone."

"Seungcheol didn't tell you?" you had to ask, feeling shy to interrupt him.

He shook his black haired head. "He didn't speak to me or to anyone I know for a month. He hid from everyone, to this day, I don't know where he went," he paused and you saw that he was still upset about it. "I showed up to your parents' and had to ask what the hell was happening 'cause you were out of reach and Seungcheol didn't answer his phone," his gaze fell out of focus, lost in the memory. "When I saw him again, he was packing up his stuff, moving to another apartment."

"God, I'm so sorry, Han," you muttered, dropping your gaze in utter shame.

"And then, you know what your parents say?" he pushed his hair back from his forehead, getting angrier at the mention of your parents. "They told me that you were not coming back. They acted like it was funny that I was looking for you. They told me you were continuing your studies and god knows where you were coming back."

You nodded slowly, biting your lower lip.

"So you do know about that. Great," he sat back and drank the remaining half of his glass. "Care to take it from there?"

"That's why I'm not on speaking terms with my parents," you begun to explain. "They wanted me married to some old guy by the time I received my master's diploma."

"Let me tell you this before you continue," he placed a hand softly on your forearm. "Your parents are the worst people I've ever met in my life."

"I know," you nodded again, hearing that from your closest friends wasn't exactly a new thing but you wondered for how long Jeonghan held that back.

"Shittiest parents in the world," he went on, throwing his hand away.

"Damn, okay," you laughed.

"Sorry," he chuckled again. "Got carried off."

You had to pause upon hearing his laugh, it sent a warm, fuzzy feeling inside you almost in an instant. Much as if your best friend's laugh was the kind of medicine you were missing for so long.

"Where was I?" you frowned. "Ah, yes—my parents married me off to some dude to form another political alliance and I didn't proceed so that's why I got cut off and been living alone since then."

Jeonghan blinked. "Jesus," he muttered. "You actually got married?"

"God, no," you shook your head violently. "They made me sign a binding contract saying that I'd marry anyone they selected for me. I broke the contract, paid a lawyer and everything."

"Jesus," he hissed again, dropping his chopsticks to his plate. "That's insane. Does Cheol know about that?"

You shook your head again and poured more beer in his glass and then yours, avoiding his gaze.

"Fuck, that's crazy," he muttered again, ruffling his fluffy black hair irately. "Your family is fucking crazy."

"I knoooow," you whispered, feeling the alcohol take its effect slowly, making your cheeks hot. "That's not the end of it, though."

"There's more?" his eyes widened in alarm. "You were right, I can't do this sober either."

Jeonghan chugged some more beer and you waited for him to stop swallowing it because you've known him to spit out his drink if he hears something shocking or worthy of a laugh.

"Because I had to pay a bunch of legal fees, and the PhD and everything I kind of started blowing off my savings and used my stipend to survive but, it wasn't enough so–"

"You ended up in Cheol's bar," he inferred.

"That's right," you nodded.

"And you didn't see him?" he asked with a frown. "He practically lives there."

"All the hiring process was handled by Wonwoo," you pressed your lips in a fine line. "I didn't see Seungcheol until it was my first day at the job."

He set his empty glass down on the table with a blank expression on his face. "You have the most terrible luck on earth, let me tell you that."

You started laughing—not out of joy. It was almost a crazed laugh, probably fuelled by coming clean and the two glasses of beer that you already downed.

"I know, I know," you wiped off a tear from your maniacal laugh.

"So what are you planning on doing now?" he asked, intrigued by your drunken laugh and honesty. "With Seungcheol."

You sent him an inquisitive look. "He told you something."

He sighed heavily and set aside his chopsticks again. "He didn't. But I'm not dumb and I know you two fuckers better than anyone else in the world."

Jeonghan was right, he was quick on reading you as well as Seungcheol.

"So are you back together?" he inquired.

You nodded.

"Do you still love him? After all this time?"

"I do," you frowned. "You know I didn't want to leave, right?"

"He told me something like that," he nodded. "Even if he didn't say a lot."

"Jeonghan," you placed a hand on top of his, drawing his gaze to yours. "I'm sorry for leaving with no explanation. I know I could've done things differently, and I'm sorry for not trying back then."

"You were dumb, I know. But I also know that you'll make things right," he pressed his lips in a comfy smile. "Everything's forgiven."

You smiled at that and he pulled you into a side hug and rubbed the back of your head briefly.

"You can start setting things straight by paying the bill," he laughed. "I'm kidding, 'mkidding!"

He laughed at the cold stare you sent him.

"Right, you're broke now so I should be treating you," he chuckled again.

"I'm not broke," you countered, toying with the hem of your shirt. "Well, just a bit."

"You'll be fine," he said soothingly.

"And how are you?" you asked, casting a glance upon the man you swore you'd be best friends with your whole life.

"I am alright," he shrugged, his eyes lost on the table below his arms. But you knew him like you knew yourself. He was avoidant, he didn't open up unless he was insisted to.

"I've seen that your company has grown a lot," you smiled with both hurt and pride. Pride for Jeonghan coming this far, hurt for not being there for him.

"Yeah, I've been doing well," he smiled shyly as he usually did, avoiding your gaze with a long blink of his eyes.

"Do you..." you inhaled deeply, and your pause was long enough for Jeonghan to search your eyes again. "Do you have someone special in your life now? Has someone finally worked up into Yoon Jeonghan's heart?"

Jeonghan looked hurt for a second before shaking his head. "Nah," he let out a characteristic low chuckle. "I gave up on that shit a while ago."

"Seriously?" you tried to give him a grin, but it failed when you saw that he did not respond to your expression well.

Jeonghan planted his elbow on the table to prop his head on his fist, the other hand pushing his plate aside. "If you knew how my fucking love life looks like right now," he laughed bitterly. "I don't know if this is the kind of conversation you want to have after years of not seeing each other."

Your heart deflated in your chest, causing some slight pain as you tried to recuperate yourself fast. "Tell me," you prompted. "I want to know everything I missed."

Jeonghan's eyes read your face, a downturned smile on his face as he pondered on your request.

"Jeonghan," you started, sliding a hand on the table to grab his own. "I haven't seen you in two years, or heard from you. I wanna know anything you have to tell me..."

He let out a deep sigh. "Okay," he conceded. "Although my life is not as crazy as yours, it has been a little... chaotic this past month."

"Pfft," you huffed. "I think it'll take a big, big scandalous thing to shock me."

Your best friend paused for a second, still reading your face with his big brown eyes before letting out with a shameful smile trying to break the features of his face. "Wow, you really missed out on so much," he realized for a second, now mustering some boldness before blurting: "I'm in love with my best friend's girlfriend."

For a second, you believed he might be trying to pull a prank on you. After all, you knew him as someone that likes to be a bit of a jester, to get the biggest reaction from you, in particular.

So you just stared him down in disbelief. "Be serious, Jeonghan."

"I'm being completely serious," he blinked slowly, the downturn smile turning into something sad, shameful even. "We might or might not have had sex a week ago."

"What?" you gasped, looking at the tables surrounding the one where you and Jeonghan sat. "Shouldn't you—shouldn't you tell your friend about this?"

"I don't have to tell him," he shrugged again, seemingly upon remembering something. "He knows about it. He knows everything. He was there too. Watched the whole thing."

"Hannie," your eyes were widened in bewilderment. "What the fuck?"

Jeonghan nodded, releasing a tired sigh that told you how emotionally worn he actually was. "He knows I love her. She doesn't," he bristled in pain, you noticed, the way that he blinked pausedly and the joints of his arms stiffened. "But I'm alright," he choked out, his fingers fidgeting with the edges of the table. "I will be fine."

"God, Jeonghan," you sighed, covering your mouth with a hand.

Jeonghan looked at you as if he were enjoying your reaction. "Is my love life more complicated than yours now?"

"Well..." you sucked in a breath in pause. "Would you believe me if I told you that I don't think so? What are you going to do now, Han?"

"I don't know," he laughed. "Try and forget about her. Try to make amends with my friend. Move on. Keep myself busy with work."

Your heart crushed when Jeonghan's gaze dropped to his lap, he breathed in through his nose, chest swelling slowly and you instantly knew that your best friend was hurting inside.

"Oh, Hannie," you sighed again, feeling his pain, knowing what he was going through perfectly.

"I'm alright," he insisted, but his pointed finger was scratching at an invisible spot on the table now. "I'll be fine. They'll be fine. Someday I'll be at their wedding and this will all be a thing to fucking laugh at."

You heard the hollow tone in his voice, the way his gaze darkened when it got lost in the void at his lap.

Your heart sank.

You were well aware of how that felt like. For many nights you wondered about Seungcheol when you were far away. With a tight pain in your heart you wondered if he had moved on. You wondered if he had fallen in love with someone else.

You wondered if he loved you still.

"Hey," you whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It'll get better for you, Hannie. You'll be okay."

Jeonghan smiled, his knuckles still pushing his cheek in, making his smile twist. "I know," he muttered, meeting your hand with his own. "At least I have you back."

"And I have you," you smiled at him, and that made his gaze soften.

"Is it weird to be back with Seungcheol?" he asked, setting an elbow on the table to prop his head on his hand. "I mean, after all this time, you surely are not the same people. He's changed, and my guess is that you have changed too."

Jeonghan was right about that. Seungcheol had changed so much that sometimes you missed the spark you used to see in his eyes two years ago. The spark was there still, but it was rare to see now,

"It's weird, yeah. We are definitely not the same, and I think that the breakup made me more guarded, in a way. And as for Seungcheol..." you sighed, driving your gaze away from Jeonghan's face. "I think he is trying hard to get back to what he had before... but I don't know why I can't."

"Do you think that being away changed you?" he pouted slightly, his lower lip protruding out. "I mean, you two were very dependent on each other. And then you just weren't. That changes people."

You nodded in agreement. "It broke me to leave him behind," you whispered, taking your time to breathe in slowly to not break into tears. "You're right, I was really dependent on him, for years. And then I was single and in a totally different place. I had to relearn things about myself and I changed. I don't know if I can be the same as I was before."

"You don't have to," he shrugged, cocking his head further, still propped in one hand. "Seungcheol loves you. And yeah, he has changed a lot too, but I don't think that matters for you two."

"What do you mean?" you asked dumbly.

"I mean, you two are weird," he smiled shyly, showing his beautiful set of white teeth. "The kind that just clicks together, you know?"

"He wants me to move in with him," you blurted after some seconds of silence between you, only interrupted by the busy buzzing of the restaurant on a monday night.

"What do you want to do?" he asked with genuine curiosity, identifying that this was the thing troubling your mind the most.

"I don't know," you sighed. "I don't want to move too fast but. I like living alone, but I also want to be with him. I want to rebuild my life back with him but... I don't want to make a mistake again."

"Look," Jeonghan straightened up, setting his hands on the table again and leaned towards you looking at you straight in your eyes. "Fuck what anyone thinks, don't even listen to what I think if that's what you want. But, Seungcheol still loves you, even after all of the shit you put him through, he loves you. And wants to be with you. What more could you want?"

You remained silent, as you did not have any answers for that.

So he continued. "If I had an opportunity like that, I would take it. In a heartbeat."

"Jeonghan..." your chest deflated, but you instantly understood that this was painful to him, and he was dead serious about it.

"Sorry," he shook his head slightly and then smiled awkwardly at you. "Don't take my advice if you don't want to, again. I just think that you are thinking way too much about something that you want."

"Yeah, I might be," you sighed.

Jeonghan sighed, but you could see that he was gearing up to change the subject, leaning back on the seat to reach inside the pocket of his jeans, drawing out his wallet.

"Next time is on you," he nodded his head at you before calling for the bill.

"This is fancy," you giggled as you slided on the creamy colored seats of his BMW. "I like it."

"You know what," he huffed, tip of his tongue gliding between his lips. "I thought you would, when I bought it."

"You're lying," you gasped. "Really?"

"Yeah," he smiled. "I remembered you told me you liked this model. I got it a year ago."

"It's really nice," you smiled, looking around the leather seats. It smelled new.

Jeonghan winked at you, giving you a smile right before he ignited the engine, the soft purr of it making the features of your face change into awe.

"Nice," you repeated.

"Hehe."

He grabbed his vape pen from the cup holder, drawing a big gulp of smoke which he slowly exhaled from his nose.

"Oh, I see you quit alright," you chastised, enjoying the way a pang of guilt crossed his face, making him smile and chuckle goofily.

"Ah, but I did quit. For a time," he said as he turned the wheel, you noticed he quickly took the route to Seungcheol's, no questions asked. "But then you left, Cheol stopped speaking to me and it was either gambling or smoking. So I decided to quit gambling for good."

"That is a terrible excuse, Jeonghan," you giggled, negating with your head in disapproval. "But I'm glad you're not gambling anymore. I suppose that's progress."

"Yeah, but I run a gambling house, with your boyfriend," he tilted his head to one side, leaning his elbow on the middle console so he could rub the tips of his fingers on his chin. "Is he your ex, still? Or are you guys like, calling each other girlfriend and boyfriend again?"

"Huh," you huffed and tilted your head to. "I actually don't know. We haven't talked about it yet."

"Well, what do you two do, then?" he asked, shooting you a look and then quickly put: "No, no, you know what, don't answer that."

"What?" you blurted.

"I know you two only fucked once and decided to get back together, so don't even attempt to tell me that you aired out all of the shit you went through."

"We do talk, Jeonghan!" you squealed, trying to sound as outraged as you could. "We had a serious talk when we saw each other again."

The car came to a stop slowly before the red lights, which illuminated Jeonghan's face as he stared you down for a long second.

"Ok, we did fuck," you conceded after he narrowed his eyes at you. "But we also talked, Hannie."

"Oh, right," he giggled briefly. "So I'm taking you to your ex's place, then."

"Yeah, we're a mess," you nodded with a flat tone.

In the back of your mind, the memories of a healthy relationship floated in the vague background. Seungcheol and you just clicked, like Jeonghan said. Yes, you were codependent on each other, but at that time, neither of you cared.

It was a great relationship, with more highs than lows. More promises than deceptions. Seungcheol was your first love, and he was very much determined to be your last. And as soon as you saw how sure he was about you, you started to reciprocate. You missed that.

Now that you were changed, you wondered if you would handle everything differently. Because it was a very loving relationship. But the big fallacy was that he turned into your whole world.

Until the day that he was not.

"Hey," Jeonghan noticed your silent divagation, sending you looks in quick succession. "You'll work it out. Don't worry about it," he offered you a smile, pressing his lips together. "At least you didn't sleep with your best friend's girlfriend, right?"

"Jeonghan," you immediately gave him a look. "Self-deprecation is not your best look."

"Yeah, yeah," he dismissed with some hurt pride. "But you can't deny that it helps."

Seungcheol gave you a copy of his fob key, which you used right before stepping inside the elevator, where as soon as you were confined in its walls, started to think of the pleasant encounter with your former best friend.

You were sure that you could pick up your friendship with Jeonghan straight away, and now after being with him and catching up, you felt stupid for ever thinking that he would turn his back on you.

Thank you for today, Hannie. Felt nice to catch up. You wrote him before the elevator reached the second to last floor of the building with a soft ding.

You pay for next time! He replied as you walked out and into the hallway, making you smile at the phone screen when he added. Joking. But I also enjoyed it. Missed you.

You reached the door and stopped for a second to remember the passcode. Typing the numbers of your anniversary date felt somehow mind-splitting, much as if going back to the days when that date was the best day of every year for four years of your life.

"Babe?" you called as you crossed the door, catching some noise in the distance.

Seungcheol was walking down the hall as you peeked inside. "Hey, baby," he sighed with a pleased smile, bending down on his knees a little as he spread his arms wide.

You squealed briefly when he lifted you up from the floor, wrapping your body with his strong and beefy arms. "Hi there," you cooed, cupping his face with your hands.

"How did it go?" he asked, his eyes outlining the features of your face and then he showed you a broad smile. "Did you drink beer?"

"Oh, do I smell?" you tried to recoil, but Seungcheol leaned his face to press a kiss on your lips.

"Yeah," he giggled goofily, lowering your body back to the floor. But his hands quickly moved to grab your face. "Give me more of that," he muttered when you hummed against his kisses. "Kiss me."

"Let me go rinse first," you used your hands on his chest to push him, but unsurprisingly, he did not even budge.

"I don't care about that," you felt his lips stretch against yours in a smile. "Kiss me more."

"Seungcheol," you whined, but his hands were already helping his lips to bring you to submission. One hand gently placed beneath your chin and the other one circling to your lower back, pulling you closer to his warm body. "Mmn."

"How did it go?" he asked with a honeyed tone, pressing his lips repeatedly against yours capturing your lower lip between his, humming as he appeared to become more and more addicted to kissing you

"It was fine," you replied dryly, focused on getting more of his lips, his hands were sliding to your waist, fingers pinching the fabric of your pretty blouse to hike it up, so his hands could touch your skin now. "Cheol," you muttered between his lips.

"Yes," he replied, his hands gripping the sides of your waist, fingertips digging gently on your skin, using his grip to bring you close to him, his front pressed to your own.

"Can we–," a shaky sigh left your mouth when in a sudden move he bent down on his knees again, lifting your feet up and set you down on the nearest countertop of the kitchen.

"Yes, angel?" he egged you on, lifting his gaze to find your face, and he took a second to outline the features of your face with his starry eyes.

"Can we talk?" you muttered meekly, being eye to eye with him now you could return the gesture and trace the beautiful line of his cupid's bow with your eyes.

"Of course," he blinked, and in a second his entire demeanor switched to a more serious one. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," you sighed with a smile, biting your lower lip as you searched in your head for the right words to say.

Seungcheol pushed his thick eyebrows up. "Well, what do you want to talk about?"

You decided that there was no perfect way to speak your mind. Besides that, you trusted Seungcheol and you did not need to say things lightly with him.

"Did you date someone recently?" you asked, and wished your tone had sounded more certain. Instead, it sounded shaky, and tiny.

Seungcheol bristled initially, his eyes dimming and going over the features of your face swiftly. His lower lip trembled and you knew instantly that he was about to say something but stopped himself. He nodded. "Yes, I did. Three months ago," he choked out, but you knew he was being honest.

"I just wanted to know. You know, he haven't caught up with our lives recently," you explained and saw his features change and soften when he also noticed your tone quiver.

Your ex boyfriend leaned his head to one side, but did not deter his gaze from your face. "I didn't mention it because it was a brief thing. I didn't think that it would matter."

"You sure?" you mumbled, bringing up a hand to pinch his chin and his eyelids fluttered at your touch. "You know, I don't want us to jump into something if you still have some things to heal."

Seungcheol grabbed the hand that was still on his chin and pressed his lips on your fingers. "No, I know, baby. It just didn't work."

"Can I ask why?" you whispered, heart thumping wildly against your chest.

Seungcheol shrugged. "She wanted more," he closed his eyes for a second. "And I couldn't give it to her."

Your mouth parted but then you stopped yourself before you could prod more.

He noticed and decided to answer your unspoken question. "I just didn't feel it," he whispered. "I tried, but it wasn't honest. So I broke it off."

"Oh, Seungcheol," you breathed, heart deflating painfully and your eyes watered. "I'm sorry," you said solemnly.

"No, baby, this isn't your fault," he replied, his eyes had started to glisten slightly, but he kept them zeroed on your face. "I tried to move on from what you and I had, I healed and forgave you. This is different, the reason why it didn't work out with her has nothing to do with us."

"Really?" you asked but quickly put: "I just want to know that we're doing this right this time."

"We are, baby," he muttered warmly, head tilting to catch your gaze. "Is there something else you need to know?"

"No, I don't think so," you gathered your tears with the pads of your finger as you sniffled quietly. "I dated other people too. Didn't work either. I couldn't do it."

Seungcheol smiled, wrinkles appearing on the corners of his eyes. "Baby, you don't need to tell me any details, it's okay," he whispered, pressing his hands on your thighs, rubbing small circles to soothe you. "I assumed as much, and I'm glad that you did."

"Why?" you whispered.

"Because it tells me that you also tried to move on," he shrugged slightly, gulping hard and that told you that this was as difficult for him as it was for you. "Besides, you were in a different country, completely alone. I'm glad that you tried to seek company."

You nodded slowly, coming to terms with the fact that even though you and Seungcheol have changed, there was still something so strong pulling you together. It was not a love fueled by memories alone.

"Is there something you want to know?" you reverted the question back to him.

He shook his head briefly. "No, baby. Not right now," he paused and then, "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm okay," you pressed your lips in a small smile. "I'm just feeling a little emotional, that's all," you whispered.

"Did Jeonghan say something?" he asked, but the light frown on his face told you that he thought this to be highly unlikely.

You shook your head no. "Wonwoo told me," you sniffled and tried to hide a guilty smile. "I might've prodded a little bit more and found out something I wasn't ready to hear," you confessed, batting a shameful look at him.

Seungcheol leaned his head to the side even further. "Baby," he started in a reproachful manner. "Why didn't you just ask me?"

"There are some things I'm scared to ask you," you replied meekly.

"Is my dating life something you were scared to know more of?" he pushed his eyebrows, his lips pouting: "Why?"

"It may sound silly to you, but it feels weird to know that you were with someone else not long ago," you shrugged.

"It doesn't," he corrected, straightening up slightly, but his hands were planted still at the sides of your thighs, on the kitchen countertop. "If the tables were flipped, I too would feel something," he said with full certainty. "That's why I'm not asking about your past partners. I don't want to know more. I'm content with knowing that you weren't completely alone."

"I wasn't," you whispered, gaze losing focus over his shoulder, in your mind you recalled the times you felt utterly alone and lost. "Sometimes I felt like I was, but I made some friendships. Short-lived."

"I'm sorry," he whispered too, calling your eyes to his.

"Don't worry about it," you blurted, lip quivering uncontrollably when in a flashing thought, the weight of your guilt and regret crashed down on you.

"Come on, let's get to bed, okay?" he muttered softly, grabbing your hands after you nodded at him. "Here," he helped you down from the counter and kept one of your hands in his own as you made your way to his bedroom.

A somber feeling had fallen between you and Seungcheol. You did not need to ask, you knew that his mind was reeling, you knew that being deep in thought also meant that he had started to plan ahead.

So you waited. In silence, you changed into pyjamas, and did your bedtime routine as normal, keeping an eye on him randomly, trying not to make it obvious that you were aware that he was overthinking.

But maybe, you thought, he knew that too.

When you slid beneath the bed-sheets, he had already made it to his side of the bed, sheets and covers up to his waist, chest exposed and bare.

Immediately, as you laid your body down on the mattress, he outstretched an arm sliding it under you and curled it, so he was now wrapping you into a side hug, egging you to rest your head on his chest.

"You're okay, babe?" you asked timidly, eyeing him up and down to get anything that might tell you about his mood.

"I'm just thinking," Seungcheol replied gently.

"Oh," you paused. "What about?"

"About us," he sighed and took a hand to run his fingers through his blond hair. "I want to put your mind at ease. I don't want this to overwhelm you."

You lifted your head from his chest to look at his face fully. Seungcheol sent you a glance, waiting for your answer.

"I–," gulping hard, you stammered: "I j-just, this is happening fast but I want this, Cheol."

However, your response seemed to do the contrary for him. He looked conflicted for a split second, his frown deepening slightly, making a couple of lines show between his eyebrows. But then, he lifted one hand and pinched your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, making his gaze soften.

"Is there something else you're thinking?" you whispered, knowing that look on his face.

Seungcheol never spoke his deeper thoughts unless prompted. He was a man that kept his emotions safe, only voicing them out when the moment was appropriate.

He removed his fingers from your chin to push your hair and tucked it on one of your ears, the pressure of his fingers on the crook behind your ear making your skin tingle.

"Sometimes I wished that you found someone," he mumbled with a sleepy sigh. "Even if it hurt me to think that I'd never see you again, I never wanted you to be lonely."

Your heart contracted so painfully that you instinctively had to blink your pain away. "I wished that for you too," you replied through a shaky sob. "I wished for someone to treat you well, to love you."

"I had that, baby," he whispered, seemingly unable to speak any louder. "Probably not with a partner, but I kept close to my family."

"Did you ever try to find someone?" you prodded with more confidence now, but you still held your breath.

"No," he breathed, blinking pausedly. "I wanted to heal, to focus on my goals, so I put a pause on that."

You nodded slowly, but you could not yank your gaze from his big and dark eyes.

"You?" he asked after a few seconds.

"Yeah, I did," you replied with a shrinking feeling in your heart, making your voice sound tiny.

Seungcheol only stared at you for a long second, and you could almost hear the gears of his brain turning. You prepared for him to ask more, you thought of all the possible questions, and all the possible answers, lies and truths that you could give him.

After all, you did not want him to know how much you actually hurt while you were away. Even if you were buried with school work, there was an unbearable ache gripping your heart tightly every day, for months.

You tried everything to yank him out of your life like a thorn in your chest. From burying yourself with school-work, to partying every weekend, to seeking comfort in other partners.

"And did... you meet someone?" he finally asked, his tone sounded steady, but his rapid breathing betrayed him.

"I–," you choked out, clearing your voice you tried again: "I didn't," you replied with honesty. "They were all good people but I was the one that didn't make it work. After some time, I stopped dating."

The truth was, you were hurting. And you took that hurt everywhere you went, and sadly, you turned into something you never thought you would become and started hurting people.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, shifting his face on his pillow, as if nuzzling it slightly to remove the discomfort you knew he felt inside. Because you felt it too.

"Me too," you pressed your lips in a smile. "I was dumb, burdened with pain and guilt. I know that now."

"We both did things in the past," he said with some languor from his long day. "What matters is what we do from now on, right?"

"Right," you nodded once.

"I want to do right by you," he said, mustering some energy to look straight into your eyes. "I want us to grow together."

"That sounds good, Seungcheol," you whispered, tone quivering slightly. "I want that too."

"Are you sure?" he uttered, sounding so small that your heart faltered painfully. "

"I'm sure," you decided. "This is just a little hard for me," you confessed, ignoring the wild vibration in your chest.

"I know," he blinked slowly, his tone soft and breathy as he took in a deep breath, saying: "You have been hiding inside a shell for two years. I get it because I feel it too."

"I'm scared, Seungcheol," you conceded, and he nodded with his head.

"I'm scared too," he whispered. "But I want to help you, I want to be with you. I'm all in for you."

With a sigh, you closed the space between you on the bed, and Seungcheol was already wrapping you with both of his arms.

"We could take this step by step," he whispered after a long second of silence. The tips of his fingers had begun to trace shapeless lines on your arm. "Whatever you want to do, if you want to go fast or slow, I can do it. Just say the word, and I'm in."

"I just want to be with you right now. I don't want to think," you replied with a whisper, realizing that it had been some days since your last dive into searching for an apartment, or a room where you could move your stuff into.

You have grown comfortable with this for the past few days. Even though there was an anxiety about living with Seungcheol after everything that went down with you. You realized that you wanted more nights like this, sleeping soundly in his arms.

"I know, baby. But at some point, we need to come to a solution. I can wait but I also want reassurance."

You shifted once again to take a look at his face, beneath all the tiredness and conflict, he looked sincere.

"I'll give you time, baby."

You gave him a small smile. "Thank you, babe."

Maybe Jeonghan was right. Your thoughts were getting in your way.

"Move aside," you whined holding a heavy tray loaded with clean jars.

"Na-ah, you know the conditions," Jeon Wonwoo shook his head slowly, crossing his arms on his chest.

"Fuck your conditions, Wonwoo. This is heavy!" you squealed dramatically.

"I've seen you carry twice the weight of that," he pointed a finger to the tray in your arms.

"Ah, it's slipping off, come on!" you gasped, your arms about to give out.

"Tsk, you–," Wonwoo chuckled briefly but came to your aid quickly, grabbing the tray from your arms before you dropped it to the ground.

"You know what," Seungcheol announced, breaking the stare down contest between you and Wonwoo. "I'll handle the bar, since you two can't seem to stop fighting."

You turned on your feet to find Seungcheol going under the bartop, his hair ruffling slightly before he pushed it back with a large hand. "You'll have the tables tonight, okay?" he told Wonwoo.

"Me?" the recused arched his eyebrows, a finger pointing at his chest.

"Yes, you, Jeon Wonwoo," he snapped, nodding his head once sharply at the tables. "And you, stop distracting him."

"S-sorry boss," you stammered awkwardly, raising your eyes to find his big dark ones. You knew that the scolding was not as heavy handed just by the way that he sounded, he tried to mask a smirk by running the tip of his tongue on his upper teeth.

"Go," he ordered impatiently. "We'll open when you're ready," Seungcheol informed him as he passed by.

"You didn't have to be an asshole," you whispered, eyes raised to find his.

"Why not, it's fun to be the asshole the guys paint me as sometimes," he shrugged, now smiling deviously as he lowered his gaze to your body. "Besides, you can't blame me for wanting to be beside you."

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. "Y-you did that just so you could be close to me?" you shook your head swiftly, snapping into realization. "Really?"

"Like I said," he took a step back, squaring his shoulders when he noticed Wonwoo glancing towards you and Seungcheol. "It'll be fun," he mumbled, trying to be subtle but you did not miss the way that one of the corners of his mouth curved up slightly.

"Right," you muttered, feeling flustered already.

Working with Seungcheol must be difficult, you imagined that it must be difficult to stay away or to not look his way every time he passes by. He is incredibly attractive, every movement he performed was eye-catching.

Now, him being your ex only added to this level of frustration that you felt already.

Seungcheol smirked at you after you huffed loudly.

He had been teasing you at every chance he could get. Every time he passed behind you, his hand somehow found your ass, patting it slightly—or hard. Depending on the given chance.

He also sent you suggestive glances, when he had the chance to and knowing no one was looking his way, he would lean back against the countertop and check you out, crossing his arms and tilting his head to one side.

"Boss," you hissed, eyes flaring at him alarmingly. "Behave."

Seungcheol chuckled, the sound of his laughter traveling across the bar, drawing some curious eyes to him.

"Okay, okay," he muttered and turned to take one of the orders that the printer had just sent.

Seungcheol had decided to wear some tight black denim jeans that hugged his ass just right. And every time he walked off, you just had to sneak a discrete look.

That gave you some pause. At that moment, you concocted a small plan to retaliate. If he thought that he could tease you all he wanted in the workspace, then you could too.

So firing back, you took every single opportunity you had to brush shoulders with him, sparking his curiosity at first. He just arched one eyebrow at you, but did not catch your intentions to draw his attention to you.

That was, until you started to do some more suggestive things, such as shooting looks at him, placing a hand on his back every time you had to reach for something from his side of the bar. Sometimes you would let your hand fall languidly, bumping with his ass.

"Stop it now," he whispered the third time you did this.

"Stop what, boss?" you inquired, batting your eyelashes at him.

"Whatever it is you think you're doing," he huffed, but a smile appeared on his lips.

"I'm not doing anything," you replied, making him frown slightly at you.

"Right," he cocked his head sideways.

"Maybe you're imagining things, baby," you mumbled, smiling sweetly at him before leaning against the countertop of the bar, nearly bending over completely.

A sly smirk appeared on his face, crossing his arms once again to lean against the countertop to check you out freely and for a second you thought he was being way too obvious.

But no, it appeared that you were in your own world. Everyone else kept busy with their tasks, and the guests did not even pay a second look towards Seungcheol or you this time.

This was fun, you decided.

". . . and that, according to him, is a Freudian slip, but I think he is just making things up," you rambled aimlessly for minutes, now fully aware that Seungcheol was not completely in the conversation anymore, no matter how much you tried to drive his attention back to what you were talking about before.

"Mm-mmph," he nodded, pushing his eyebrows up ever so slightly. "Right."

"Boss?" you called with some caution, but a small smile curved your lips. "Focus."

You leaned back against the countertop, facing him as he enclosed the space between you in a disclosed manner, your thigh brushing his.

"You started this," he said, gripping the edge of the countertop with both hands, he ran his tongue on his front teeth, eyes set on the rest of the establishment behind you.

"Started what?" you crossed your arms by your tummy, hands on your elbows.

"The teasing, the name calling, I can go on and on," he replied with a tight jaw, still not looking at you.

"Please do," you challenged with a confident smirk. "To me it sounds like I didn't do much."

"Oh no, yeah, you're still doing it," one eyebrow cocked up and now his eyes zeroed on your face. "Bending over the counter, wearing those fucking shorts," he let out a huff and clicked his tongue.

"I didn't start anything, you did," you shrugged, a smile on your face, seeing how conflicted Seungcheol was.

"Mmn," he hummed in faux contempt, nodding his blond head slowly and finished pushing the tip of his tongue on the inside of his cheek with a smacking sound.

And then, with the stealth that you have known him to own, he fished out for one of your hands, guiding it to his crotch. Your eyes shot up, but you attempted to make absolutely no move. Limbs froze, all except the hand on the hardened bulge beneath his black denim jeans.

Seungcheol, it seemed, had frozen too after releasing his grip on your hand, knowing full well that you would take your chance and palm his growing erection over the fabric of his clothes.

His eyebrow jumped up slightly when your fingers found the outline of his cock, making an up and down motion, losing some discretion.

It had been a while since you had done something so daring as groping in public, and something told you that this was the case for Seungcheol too. His chest had begun to rise and fall agitatedly, eyes set on the surroundings in caution.

"Fuck it," he breathed, dropping his hands from the edge of the countertop, stepping back from it, and from you. Your hand fell off his crotch, and your gaze flew to find his flustered face. Seungcheol ruffled his blond hair with one hand, eyebrows pushed up. "See me in the storeroom," he muttered as he walked off from you.

You knew you were in trouble.

"Cover me?" you asked Wonwoo who was passing through the emptied tables and found you frozen behind the bartop.

"Sure," he nodded, a frown appearing on his face. "Everything alright?" he asked as he went around the bar and stood beside you swiftly.

"Yeah, I gotta–," you cut yourself off when you could not think of a good enough excuse. "I'll be back in five!"

Wonwoo pressed his lips in a line, looking bewildered. "Suuure."

You dashed through the backdoor, pushing it open with a force you were not sure where it came from. But you were certain that the exhilaration coursing through you made you stupid enough to stop considering that you were at your workspace.

But yet again, it seemed that Seungcheol did not care either.

As soon as you started turning the doorknob, it was yanked from the inside, a hand grabbing your wrist and thrusting you against his body. In one swift move, Seungcheol had closed the door behind you and pushed you back against it.

"What're you–," you were quickly shut with a hard kiss on your lips, that soon turned heated, desperate.

"We'll have to do this quick," he hissed against your lips, and just when you were about to ask, you felt his fingers searching the hem of your shorts, finding the button to undo it with a hard tug. "Turn around."

Facing the door now, your fingers hooked on the waistband of your shorts and panties, pushing them down for him to finish moving them down just below your ass.

"Good girl," Seungcheol whispered and you heard the metal clinking of his belt, the sound letting you know his following movements. So you instantly arched your back, angling yourself for him and planting your hands flat on the door in front of you for support.

"Seungcheol," your fingertips tried digging into the hard wood when you felt a hand on your hip, pad of his thumb pressing on the soft skin of your glute. "Hurry."

"Shh," he giggled quietly, and you turned your head to look over your shoulder at him.

Seungcheol noticed your eyes on him, and held your gaze for a second before grabbing his throbbing cock in one hand, first around the bulbous, dripping in precum cockhead, pointer finger lifted up to search for your wet folds so he could guide his cock right inside you.

You pressed your forehead against the door, squeezing your eyes shut. "Fuck, daddy," you whined softly, ever so quietly you think for a second he wouldn't hear it over the loud music out in the bar. "Fuck, fuck," you grit your teeth when he started to ease himself inside you, the girth of his cock stretching your wet walls open, making you stifle a sigh at the delicious bite.

"God, baby, you take it so well," he praised in your ear, dragging his cock out, and then pushing in slowly at first. "So good for me."

You let out a puffy breath as his other hand encircled your waist right before he retracted his hips, and then pushed them with fast thrusts. The pace was now calculated, and fast, nearly brutal, you knew you had to make this good for him.

"Quiet," he rasped when you sighed a moan out, fingertips raking on the door in front of you now, trying to apply as much pressure to avoid bumping your head against it.

"It feels good," you replied with a whiny tone.

"Do you want me to make you come?" he asked and sighed a smile when you nodded with your head yes in frantic movements. "Arch your back for me, baby."

You instantly bent forward, angling your ass for him, his hand moved to the small of your back, applying pressure and gripping your hip with his other hand before he started plowing on you.

"Fuck," you gritted out, squeezing your eyes shut so hard you saw stars and colors. "Daddy, don't stop, please," you whined when his cock reached a very sensitive spot deep inside you with his hard and fast thrusts.

"That's it, baby," he sighed and let out a tiny groan. "Do you want me to pull out?"

His hand slid from your lower back, pushing your tank top up your back but stopped instantly when you shook your head no.

"I want you to come first," he whispered but with some urgency. The sound of him swallowing a raspy moan sent a frenzied shudder down your spine. "Come for me, baby."

One of your hands travelled down between your legs, finding your throbbing clit with your fingertips and immediately started rubbing fast swirls around it, crying out helplessly as pleasure bloomed from your pussy to your limbs.

"Good fucking girl," he growled when you succumbed to your fast orgasm. "F-fuck," he forced out using his hands on your hips to fuck you into him, sliding your throbbing walls on his cock slowly as he came with you.

He pushed his front flush against your ass with a long exhale. "Fuck," he groaned. "Don't move, baby. I'm pulling out."

You shuddered hard when you felt him slip out of you and your hand immediately slid between your legs to cup the warm cum dripping out of you.

"Here," he said, offering you a paper towel. "I should go out before the boys find us like this."

"Yeah," you laughed shamefully.

His eyes read your face swiftly. "Why are you laughing?"

"It would be funny," you muttered offhandedly, cleaning your hand.

"No. I'd never live that off with those two," he tilted his head to one side. "Besides, I thought you didn't want them to know."

"I'll take care of this in the washroom," you cocked your head to the door. "Go, boss."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't make it obvious, then," he smirked but left the storeroom shortly after when you were fixing your clothes.

After cleaning yourself up in the washroom, you were returning to the boys already closing up the place. Your heart sank, but as you crossed the space, Seungcheol sent you a quiet glance from the booth where he usually accounted for the day's profit.

"You took long enough," Wonwoo chastised but then gave you an inquisitive look. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," you sighed, placing your hands on your hips to show some certainty. "Sorry. Thank you for covering me though."

"I'm almost finished with this side," he said without studying your flushed face. "Just close up the tables with Mings, yeah?"

"Okay," you nodded, turning away from his gaze but swearing you could still feel it in the back of your head as you walked up to the tables to clean them up and put the chairs up.

Mingyu kept a speedy gait around you, seemingly focused on finishing the shift as soon as possible. He did not even hum to a tune as he regularly did, but you saw it in his face, he was in a good mood.

"You're alright there?" you asked, watching him move through the place like a man on a mission.

"Got a date," he muttered, and then shook his head when you pushed your eyebrows up in question. "It's not romantic—she's a friend."

"She?" you pushed, grinning. "A friend, huh?"

"And waiting for me," Mingyu nodded. "Come on, let's go early tonight, yeah?"

"O-okay," you giggled teasingly, lifting one chair up and putting it on the recently cleaned table, then you put the rest of the chairs up and moved to the next table to clean its surface.

"Let me," a low voice came from behind you when you bent down to grab one chair.

You sucked in a breath, and turned to see Seungcheol, whose face lit up in the tiniest of smiles that reached his eyes.

"I should stop doing that," he whispered at you, referring to surprising you often.

"Yeah, or maybe I should be more aware of my surroundings," you muttered, looking at his big dark eyes.

"Maybe," his smile grew, wrinkling the outer corners of his eyes. He grabbed one chair and put it up. "I got these, move to the next table."

"You got it, boss," you smiled at him cheekily.

A sharp, loud gasp came from behind the countertop, paired with a hard slam of Wonwoo's hand down on it.

You turned to see the man, standing aghast with his mouth hanging open.

"Hyung?" Mingyu asked with a worried tone.

The three of you looked at him, and it suddenly dawned on you: he had been watching your interaction with Seungcheol from the moment they exchanged tasks in the bar. And you had been too stupid to ignore his inquisitive eyes.

"You're her," he blurted out with a start then blinked, as if snapping himself to reality. "You're–,"

"Wonwoo–," Seungcheol warned immediately.

"No, it's okay," you interjected, from the look on his face, you knew that there was no way you could lie yourself out of this. He had found you out. "You're right."

His mouth fell open again, bringing a hand to cover his mouth.

"I'm so incredibly lost," Mingyu huffed, scratching the crown of his head, tilting it sideways. "What's happening?"

Neither Wonwoo or Seungcheol spoke, but you noticed the way they both exchanged a look. And that was something you could not deny, was that the three men had developed a partnership—a friendship so strong that they simply trusted one another.

"I'm his ex," you explained after some quick thinking, deciding that there was no better way to say it.

"Whose ex?" Mingyu exclaimed, looking at Seungcheol, then at Wonwoo.

"We didn't say anything because it was my decision to keep it private but," you shrugged then looked at Wonwoo, whose shocked expression had not left his face. "You found out before."

"What?" Mingyu asked, voice rising even higher and blinked. "You're boss's ex?! The ex?"

Seungcheol brought a hand to his own face with a smack. "Mingyu, please–,"

"Yes, that ex," you rolled your eyes awkwardly.

"Wow," Mingyu huffed, turning to his housemate. "How?"

"The questions, boss's mood swings, and now," Wonwoo pointed, shooting a knowing look at you both.

You pressed your lips in a hard line. "Yeah, I might've been a bit too obvious," you turned to Seungcheol, asking for some help in the situation.

"Guys, I know that this topic of conversation has been... quite the fuss in here, so let me just put you both on the same page," he exchanged one glance with you, and proceeded after you nodded your head. "We were in a relationship before, some years ago. And I'm no stranger to the speculation, but no, there is no resentment between us."

"Because you got back together," Mingyu read the situation as fast as his housemate. "That's why you've been happy lately, boss."

Seungcheol grew quiet, it seemed that he had not expected to be told that. But after some seconds passed, you were about to intervene when he nodded. "Yes. We got back together," he said firmly.

"This is the friend you were referring to?" Wonwoo exclaimed with a hollow laugh. "That's not a friend, that's–,"

"Wonwoo!" you exclaimed, feeling partly elated that Wonwoo shifted from his initial shock and was teasing you in a friendly way.

"What are you talking about?" Seungcheol asked.

"Nothing," Wonwoo pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, but the cheeky smile on his lips told you he knew the answer already.

"Mmph," Mingyu huffed once again, bobbing his head once and then turned to resume working. "Who would've thought?"

"Small world," Wonwoo conceded, palming the countertop gently now. "You were bad at hiding it. Both of you."

"What, no we weren't," Seungcheol countered but you knew that it was a lost cause.

"You were both in the back just now–," Mingyu realized and his mouth too, fell open with a very dramatic gasp: "On the clock, boss?! You two have no decorum!"

"Mingyu!" you squealed but he just chuckled, shaking his head in reproach but continued working nonetheless.

"And here I thought you were kinda haughty, newbs," Mingyu laughed harder at your aghast expression. "Tut, tut, tut, naughty-naughty, both of you."

"Mings, cut it off," Wonwoo advised, shooting a look at Seungcheol.

The tips of his ears were read, but that did not distract you from the hard and cold look he was giving to Mingyu. "Yah," he started, sizing him up.

"Hehe," Mingyu chuckled and then he turned to you. "Ah, so that is how you knew Jeonghan-hyung."

"He's my friend too," you nodded, staring at Wonwoo as you too, decided to keep cleaning up the tables.

"Oh, I see," Mingyu said knowingly. "Huh. Small world," he reaffirmed as well.

The ride back home was full of glances between you and Seungcheol, you could tell he was happy, keeping his hand parked on your thigh as the other gripped the steering wheel.

Your own hand was on his nape, fingers twisting in his blond hair affectionately. You remembered the times you did this routinely, so much so that it became something you did almost absentmindedly.

As you came back home, Seungcheol grabbed you by the hand, yanking you towards him and grabbing you by the chin to plant a chaste kiss on your lips.

"Come here," he whispered, keeping his hand on your chin as he kissed you heatedly. The other hand finding the button of your shorts, undressing you as you both made your way to the shower.

In the shower, you were completely enthralled by the love in his starry eyes, he kept kissing you, nearly not letting you wash for two seconds without having a kiss either on your cheeks, forehead or anywhere he could reach.

"I'll be right there," he muttered with a pleased look on his face when you stepped out of the shower.

After putting up your sleepwear, you decided to go look for something to eat, only to find nothing but a fridge nearly vacant to the exception of some cans of beer.

So. You've been found out. Jeonghan's text message read on your screen. You smiled in shame, but decided to reply to him the following morning when you heard Seungcheol's steps approaching from the hallway.

"Fridge is empty," you reported with a croaky tone from the tiredness consuming your body slowly.

"Do you want to go get something at the mini-mart?" Seungcheol asked as he walked to the open kitchen and up to you, encircling you with his arms, snuggling you close to his body.

You knew Seungcheol was not the greatest cook, and the memory of the times when he tried to cook for you had you smiling fondly at him for a second.

"Yeah, I don't really get groceries anymore," he shrugged slightly, thinking your smile was an accusatory one. "Rather order something or eat in a restaurant. Or in the bar."

"Mmmn," you drew in a breath, mustering up some courage as you spoke out your decision: "Well, if I'm going to live here with you, we gotta fix that, babe," you muttered softly, drawing his big, dark eyes to you. "We could go buy some groceries tomorrow morning."

Seungcheol pushed his eyebrows up, reading your face with his big eyes. "So you've made up your mind about this?" he inquired, his tone low and you could see how nerve inducing the topic of conversation was to him.

You nodded silently, biting your smile and grabbing with your hands his forearms that were parked on your tummy. "I think I'm going to give up the apartment search.," you whispered. "Is the offer of moving in with you still up?"

He blinked twice, as if he were jolting awake to reality. "Of course, love," he nodded, emitting a sigh through his parted red lips. "There's nothing I want more."

"Oh, yeah?" you replied. "Nothing else?"

"Well, there might be one other thing," he shrugged ever so slightly, small dimples showing on his cheeks when he showed you a joyful smile. "I don't want to be your ex anymore."

"Well, you just gotta fix that, don't you?" you grinned, looking up and down from his eyes to his smiling lips.

"Be my girlfriend," he muttered, using his fingers under your jaw to join his lips with yours. "Please."

"I'd be more than happy to," you whispered, finally giving yourself in, letting go of your fears.

✧ author's note: i want to apologize for making you wait for so looooong, i took my time and i am sorry

but thank you for everyone who waited for the update! and the ones who came to my askbox to ask about this fic, thank you for keeping it alive! 🩵

this fic is close to my heart, i literally poured my heart in chapter 3, writing about stuff that hit close to home i think that induced me into a writing slump because i couldn't find my way out and write? idk haha

✧ note 2: this is not proofread i'm sorry

✧ READ THE DRABBLE AND STAY TUNED FOR CHAPTER 5 ✧ JOIN MY TAGLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTERS | BUY ME A COFFEE? (●'◡'●)

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taevbears · 1 year ago

Text

Movie Night

When horror movies don't scare you anymore, your boyfriend wants to figure out what you are afraid of.

⤑ pairing: Jungkook x fem!reader (feat. the Daegu boys) ⤑ genre: horror, mystery, suspense, one-shot ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 6.1k ⤑ warnings: obsessive behavior, stalking, depictions of kidnapping, torture, and multiple murders, hidden camera, non-explicit sex, a bit of angst, open ending. this fic gets pretty dark, so please be cautious of the warnings! ⤑ note: happy halloween! this started as a little spooky shower thought i had a little over a month ago and became this lol. i love reading scary stories, but lmao, i feel like i'm not very good at writing them. thank you @angelicyoongie for assuring me that this isn't as terrible as i think it is. also please note that this is a work of fiction and i don't think IRL jungkook is like the character in this fic at all

“No, please! Don’t hurt me!”

The shadow of a muscular, male figure looms over the female protagonist. His breaths are heavy from chasing her around, barely visible against the chilly, October air. Finally, he has her cornered. He holds up a sharp knife in the air.

The woman trembles on the ground, sobbing and pleading for her life to be spared. Mascara runs down her cheeks, and a look of hopelessness and despair fills her eyes. She holds her hands in front of her in a feeble attempt to defend herself.

The camera pans away as the killer violently stabs the woman. Her terrifying screams of pain and anguish echoes from the TV screen as fake blood splatters on the wall.

Blue and white light bathes over you and your date in the dim living room. You try to suppress a long yawn with the back of your hand.

You’re so bored, you’re practically in tears.

“You didn’t like it?” Jungkook asks you, chuckling at your reaction.

“It didn’t scare me,” you admit sheepishly, hoping he doesn’t get the wrong idea.

You love horror movies. It’s what inspired you to become a film student. You love being on the edge of your seat from the thrill and suspense that the main character acts out. You love being genuinely shocked from unexpected twists and jump-scares. You love a good ghost story that haunts you long after the credits roll, or the paranoia of a similar terrifying incident happening to you.

But perhaps, over time, they’ve lost a bit of their magic.

Although the production of movies has become phenomenal in recent years, movies these days seem to rely too heavily on shock value and nostalgia. Once popular franchises are milking out their legacies to a newer audience. There are so many retellings of the same, old stories that you can already accurately predict what will happen before you reach the ending. Even some of the most climactic scenes of the movie are so over-the-top, they’re almost comical.

Honestly, it has nothing to do with your date or even the so-called horror movie itself. You just don’t scare as easily anymore.

Jungkook peers are you curiously, a boyish grin on his face. “Then, what are you scared of?”

“I don’t know. Probably nothing.”

“Yeah? That’s a bold statement.”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

Jungkook laughs. “You have to be scared of something.”

You throw the question back at him. “Then, what are you afraid of?”

He thinks about it, rubbing his chin in thought and pushing his tongue against the lip rings on his mouth. Then, he meets your gaze. There’s a sparkle in his eyes as he smiles at you. “Hmm, I think I’d be scared to lose you.”

You find yourself smiling back at him.

“You’re so sweet, Kook,” you tell him, leaning over to kiss him.

Only recently, you and Jungkook started dating officially, and you really like him a lot. He’s very cute, funny, handsome, and perfect in many ways. Butterflies flutter in your stomach when you’re around him, and there’s still that exciting giddiness and eagerness of new love whenever he messages you or visits you in the evening.

In some ways, Jungkook is almost too good to be true.

Part of you wonders if there’s a catch.

But with his lips on yours, it’s easy to push that thought aside.

Credits roll on the screen as the movie comes to an end. His fingers glide up your thigh as yours tangle into his hair. The cool piercing on his lips presses against your bottom lip as he slips his tongue in your mouth, and a soft moan escapes you.

Suddenly, Jungkook pulls away and faces the TV. He uses the remote to tap out of the movie credits and browse through the list of recommended shows on your streaming service. Casually, trying to hide a teasing smirk, he asks, “How about we watch a different movie, then?”

You stare back at him, a bit stunned and flustered. But your own smile touches your lips.

“Or,” you suggest, grabbing his wrist to lower the remote. He turns away from the screen to look at you, eyes lingering on the sultry smile on your lips. “I know something else we can do instead.”

When you first saw Jungkook, you thought you were being catfished.

His selfie on the dating app included a slight head tilt, a pucker of his pierced lips, and a peace sign. Big, doe-shaped eyes stared back at you from your phone screen, and you noticed the tiny moles below his lip, on the tip of his nose, and on his cheek.

The second picture was of him and his brown doberman, affectionately named Bam. The picture was taken of them outside. One of his hands was holding a tennis ball and the other was gently touching the dog’s long ears. A small, fond smile tugged on your lips when you looked between them and realized that they kind of looked alike.

The third picture was him at the gym. It was a back-shot where he was using the equipment. Broad shoulders, buff arms and back, a tiny waist. You stared way too long at his strong muscles and the ink on his arm before you finally swiped right.

Turned out, much to your surprise, he liked your pictures too. The two of you were a match.

And it wasn’t long until he sent his first message to you. In your inbox, a simple: “hey :)”

On your first date, the two of you agreed to meet at a very public, very crowded bistro. You stood nervously by the building, dressed nice for the occasion. And in case anything went wrong or if this Jungkook guy wasn’t who you expected him to be, you shared your location and had a “send help lol” message on standby for your bestie, Min Yoongi.

As you waited, scrolling through and jumping around different apps on your phone, you found yourself to be surprised yet again.

Someone who looked like the guy you’ve been chatting with called out your name. And soon, he was standing in front of you: big eyes, bigger muscles, tiny beauty marks on his face, colorful ink on his arm, a charming smile, and a simple, “Hey, I’m Jungkook.”

One date turned to a second date. Then, a third. And by the fourth date, as he laid in your bed that night and snuggled close to you, it finally started to sink in that Jungkook wasn’t some figment of your imagination.

He was real, and sweet, and seemed to really like you as well.

Jungkook, like you, had an interest in filming. He especially liked editing videos for his dance challenges, short clips, and a series he called “Golden Closet Film” on his channel. While you imagined yourself to be a big director, working in movie sets, and making scripts come to life with your vision, Jungkook told you he’d like to film a project where you’re the star.

“I don’t think I’m on-screen material,” you replied, amused by the idea. You’re not an actress. You don’t think you have the kind of beauty filmmakers seek out for their lead roles. Hell, if anything, Jungkook would be a better fit for an acting gig.

“You are,” he insisted, brushing his thumb against your knuckles. “To me, you’re perfect.”

You smiled at him then, your heart fluttering by his words. “You are to me, too.”

It was shortly after that conversation when you both decided to date each other exclusively. And it felt like the kind of romance you’d see in the movies. Picture perfect, a little corny at times, and a thrilling whirlwind of laughter, teasing remarks, and intimate touches.

“Am I who you thought I’d be?” Jungkook asks you the next morning after the movie-night bust, propping himself up on the side and peering down on you. His arm flexes, colorful ink decorating it, as the thick comforter wraps around his bare body.

“No,” you confessed, still a bit tired from last night. You keep your eyes closed as you quietly murmur, “You’re even better.”

“Yeah?”

You don’t need to open your eyes to see the pleased look on his face. As you feel him press his lips against your cheek, you ask, “What about me? Am I who you thought I’d be?”

Had you opened your eyes then, perhaps you would’ve seen it. The blank look on his face as he pulls away from you, how the light in his eyes suddenly seems to vanish, as if he isn’t really looking at you anymore.

Jungkook doesn’t answer you right away. When you open your eyes, you see him shaking his head. The same, sweet boyish smile appears on his lips.

“You’re exactly what I’m looking for.”

The topic about exes inevitably came up early on in your relationship with Jungkook. You’ve dated casually before. Even thought you’d be getting somewhere with some of the guys you were talking to.

But none of them quite compared to Kim Taehyung.

You were a film student. He was a photography major. The two of you were bound to end up in some of the same classes together in the art division.

To you, it was love at first sight. You fell for him so hard and so fast.

What started as bumping into each other at the library and helping each other with assignments led to making out at each other’s dorms with the text books left unopened. Coffee dates between classes became anniversary dinners at nice restaurants. He introduced you to his parents, and you proposed going on a romantic getaway together.

The day you didn’t think you’d ever love anyone else was when he snapped a photo of you looking out at the scenery during that weekend trip. It was just you and him, and a natural setting that looked straight out of a movie.

He smiled to himself as he looked at the picture through his camera. That day, he called you his muse.

And in return, you told him that you loved him.

When you fell for Taehyung, you fell hard and fast. Eventually, it occurred to you that Taehyung didn’t do the same.

Sure, he cared about you. Sure, he loved you. But while you heard wedding bells and dreamed about your future with him, Taehyung was just starting to put himself out there in the world. His art was being recognized, and he was getting booked to shoot at weddings, parties, and other big events every week.

Soon, the dates happened less frequently. The romantic gestures of bringing you flowers, surprising you on nice dates or small gifts, or even renting your favorite movies to watch together happened even less. He would promise that he’d make it to a party or an important event to you, just to let you down. And it felt like him giving you a bit of affection or attention was a chore.

Taehyung was the world to you, but the petty arguments and the distance that started growing between you two made it clear to you where his priorities were. And it wasn’t with you.

Breaking up with him was the hardest thing you had to do. Both of you knew it was coming. It was just a matter of who broke up with who first.

Just as Taehyung came into your life, quickly and effortlessly, he was gone. Nothing but bittersweet memories of what once was and what could have been weighed heavily on you for months.

What made it worse was that Taehyung, a man you loved with all your heart, had moved on from you so fast and so easily.

You saw him and his new girlfriend at a mutual friend’s party. You were warned that he’d be there, that he was already seeing someone. But it still hurt like hell to see him happy and in love with another person.

But if Taehyung could move on, so could you.

It felt weird at first, but you started to put yourself out there again. You joined dating apps. You went out with the people that fancied your interest. You met Jungkook.

And from there, everything was history.

With Jungkook, you started to think about Taehyung a lot less. The plaguing “what ifs” have quieted down, and the hurt from heartbreak began to heal. With Jungkook, you started to feel like yourself again: you started to smile more, laugh more loudly, enjoy watching movies again, became passionate about cinematic ideas you’d like to create one day.

With Jungkook, you’re also cautiously optimistic.

Because like Taehyung, you feel yourself falling hard and fast for Jungkook. It’s almost scary how truly perfect he is.

“I think you’re just psyching yourself out,” Yoongi tells you, sliding into the chair opposite of you with two cups of coffee in his hands. He smells like freshly-baked cookies. A spot of flour stains his apron as he uses his fifteen-minute break to hang out with you.

“Maybe,” you sigh, gratefully taking the drink he hands you. “What do you think about him?”

“Does my opinion even matter at this point? You’re in love with him,” he drawls before taking a sip of his Iced Americano.

“Of course it does, best friend. Why else would I keep you around?” you remark, taking a sip of your own drink. “Besides the free coffee and cookies. Thank you, by the way.”

He rolls his eyes. The perks of being friends with the cookie boy at your local bakery is a free cup of coffee and getting dibs on leftover treats that didn’t sell the day.

“He’s fine. Kind of annoying. A little too energetic,” he answers as his eyes flit toward the TV screen that his boss keeps on. A woman dressed in bright, business clothing holds a microphone as she reports on the recent news. There’s a grim look on her face.

You have your back turned to it, but you can hear Yoongi’s boss turning up the volume.

Breaking news. Missing woman found dead near home. The victim has succumbed to multiple stab wounds. It is believed that she has been kidnapped and tortured prior to her violent death. The attacker is currently unknown and still at large. Local authorities advise staying indoors and to please report any suspicious activity.

Your heart sinks as you look over your shoulder, seeing police taping off the crime scene and answering what they can to the news outlets. The location is so close to where you are.

“This is the second victim,” a customer mutters with a frown.

The person they’re with nods their head and asks, “Do you think they’re connected?”

“I don’t know. I hope not. We’ll have a serial killer in our hands.”

“Hey,” Yoongi calls your attention. When you look at him, there’s concern on his face. “If you need a ride anywhere, make sure you call me. Doesn’t matter what time.”

“I’ll be okay, Yoongi. Jungkook usually comes to my place anyway.”

“Still. Just let me know that you’re still alive when I check in, all right?” he says as he stares at the screen. You don’t blame him for being worried. As you follow his gaze, you see a picture of the latest victim of the ongoing case that has the whole town on edge.

This woman, like the others, kind of looks like you.

“If you’re with me, you have nothing to worry about,” Jungkook assures you, throwing a tennis ball as Bam hurriedly chases after it.

The two of you are at a park with his dobermann. Despite how scary it’s been lately with the news, it’s a nice day. Children are screaming and playing together on the playground as their parents watch them nearby. A group of teenage boys are playing basketball on the outdoor court. Middle-aged and elderly couples are paired up and are getting their daily steps in.

“My hero,” you joke half-heartedly, but you’re still a bit concerned. Yoongi being worried about you makes you feel paranoid.

Jungkook turns to you. He holds out his hand as Bam retrieves the ball and drops it for another throw. “I thought you weren't afraid of anything.”

“Movie-wise, I’m not. But this is different.”

Jungkook throws the slobbery ball again. Further this time as Bam barks happily and takes off. He takes a seat next to you on the park bench. “I can leave Bam with you when I have my evening shifts. He makes a good guard dog.”

He works as an editor and cameraman for a big content creator, which gives him lots of flexible hours to work on his projects when he isn’t busy filming. Since the beginning of autumn, his boss has been giving him evening work to film ghost-hunting videos and other spooky content for Halloween.

“That’ll be nice,” you reply with a small smile. The two of them have been coming to your place so often, it might as well be their second home.

From a short distance, Bam lies on the grass with the tennis ball by his paws. His tongue is out, needing a short break from running around, as he faces you and Jungkook. Even with other dogs and kids around, he’s very well-behaved.

Just as Jungkook tells you that he’ll get Bam, the sound of small, excited barks grab your attention. A familiar black and brown pomeranian approaches you like an old friend, wagging its tail and perking its ears up when it sees you.

Your heart nearly jumps when you recognize the dog.

“Tan!”

You know that voice. How could you not?

That deep, smooth baritone has haunted you for months.

Taehyung, your ex-boyfriend, stops in his tracks when he realizes why his pomeranian took off. The two of you were still together when he adopted Yeontan, and you were there to help raise him when he was still a puppy.

“Who’s this?” Jungkook asks, drawing your attention back to him. He reaches out to pet Yeontan, but the pomeranian growls at him. Almost like he wants to protect you from him.

“Sorry, he’s mine,” Taehyung apologizes, stepping closer to you two and picking his dog up. He looks at you as he tries to soothe the agitated Yeontan in his arms. “It’s been a while. How’ve you been?”

“Good,” you reply politely. Old feelings start to pull on your heart strings that you fervently try to ignore. “I’m good.”

“You look good,” Taehyung starts, but then he purses his lips in regret. It’s obvious that he’s nervous to talk to you. Maybe he feels the same as you.

Softly, you reply, “You do, too.”

“Who’s this?” Jungkook repeats. This time, there’s an annoyed look on his face as he stares at Taehyung.

It puts you off a bit. Jungkook is usually a friendly guy.

“Oh, this is Taehyung. We used to date,” you tell him honestly. Though, the information seems to just annoy him more. “Taehyung, this is—”

“I’m Jungkook. She’s my girlfriend now.”

His arm snakes around you possessively. He holds a steady gaze, but it’s a look you’ve never seen on him before. Dark, threatening, and angry. It’s almost unnerving.

“I see…” Taehyung trails off as his gaze shifts toward him. Yeontan is still in his arms, growling and barking at Jungkook. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the pup so aggressive toward someone. Even Bam comes over, ditching his ball to guard over you and Jungkook.

“It was nice to see you, Taehyung,” you tell him, sensing the tension in the air and deciding to cut things off. He seems reluctant to leave.

“Yeah…” he continues to trail off, finally pulling his gaze away to look at you. It looks like there’s a million things he wants to say to you. In a lower tone, he tells you, “My number is still the same. If you ever want to talk.”

You frown. After the breakup, you’ve deleted his number and unfollowed him on social media. “Oh, I don’t—”

“Then I’ll call you,” he promises, firm with his decision.

You don’t get it. You and Taehyung have run into each other after the breakup before, and he’s never had an issue with you dating anyone after him. He clearly has moved on, and so have you.

Why now?

What is it about Jungkook that has him worried for you?

“I don’t like that guy.”

Jungkook is still heated as he drives you home. His grip is tight around the steering wheel, and the tires screech when he makes a sharp turn. Bam stumbles a bit in the back before sticking his head out the window again.

“Slow down, Kook. You have nothing to be worried about.”

The radio blasts in the car, too much in a rush to connect his playlist to the stereo. It’s playing the week’s top music, and a catchy song from a popular artist fills the car.

Curious, you open your phone and check your followers. You’ve unfollowed Taehyung a long time ago on all your social platforms, finding it hard to look at any of his recent pictures – even just his scenic photography – without thinking about how he had once called you his muse.

But Taehyung never unfollowed you. He had always kept his inbox open for you.

“Did you see the way he was looking at me? It’s like he was looking down on me,” he continues to rant, speeding over a yellow light. He glances over at you and sees that you’re distracted with your phone. “I don’t like how you were looking at him either.”

“Are you serious?” you ask, turning your attention to him. “We barely talked. What the hell are you trying to insinuate?”

On the radio, the program is interrupted. One of the hosts makes a grim announcement.

Ladies and gentlemen, we just received unfortunate news that a third body has been found pertaining to a series of brutal deaths.

“You still love him! You’ll go back and leave me again!” he suddenly snaps, throwing you off guard.

Silence follows the tension.

Then, you inquire, “Again?”

The third victim is a young female. Hair color and eye color match the previous victims as well, indicating that this might be a targeted attack by the killer.

Not once have you been unfaithful to Jungkook. Even when you were starting to message each other, you weren’t talking to anyone else. The two of you haven’t even been dating that long.

“Forget I said anything,” he starts with a frustrated sigh. But he realizes he’s fucked up.

“No, I’m not just going to forget it. What do you mean by that, Jungkook?”

As of now, authorities have no leads on a suspect. All victims have been kidnapped, tied up, and tortured prior to their deaths. We are led to believe that this is the work of a potential serial killer.

He nearly slams to a stop. The seatbelt around you yanks you back from hitting the dashboard. Bam falls to the floor and you gasp as the back of your head hits your seat.

Jungkook doesn’t answer you, but for the first time, it feels like the rose-tinted glasses you have on him have fallen off. He’s always been perfect to you: sweet, athletic, talented, and kind. But the Jungkook before you is someone completely different.

This Jungkook scares you.

Stay inside. Lock your doors. Call the police if you see anything suspicious. Be safe out there, folks.

“I told you to forget about it, didn’t I?” he asks through gritted teeth and a harsh look in his eye.

You nod your head, hands trembling a bit as you hold onto your vibrating phone. The screen shows an unknown number trying to contact you.

“Is there a reason why your boyfriend called me?” Yoongi asks you from the other line. He has you on face-time, awkwardly propping up the camera to show his elbow as he mixes a batch of cookies.

It’s been about a week since you saw Jungkook.

After he dropped you off at home, he wanted to put it all behind him. He kissed you sweetly and murmured apologies for overreacting as his hands slipped under your shirt. But you sent him home before he could convince you to sleep with him. You were still upset about how hostile he was toward Taehyung, his accusations about you, and what his outburst meant.

That hasn’t stopped him from trying to get back to your good graces, though.

The number of missed calls from him keeps increasing by the hour. Ones that you leave unanswered or send straight to your voicemail.

You don’t want to talk to him.

At your door, you hear him rapping his knuckles against the wooden frame and insistently ringing at your doorbell. From the other side of the door, he begs for a chance to explain.

You don’t want to see him.

Clearly, after reaching you directly hasn’t worked, he’s starting to contact your friends.

“He’s probably trying to find me,” you tell Yoongi, poking at a bowl of fresh strawberries. You’re still dressed in your pajamas, sitting on a stool by the kitchen counter.

The sound of a small dog can be heard in the background of your line. It dawns on him that you’re not at your place or Jungkook’s.

Yoongi is silent for a moment. Then, he grabs the phone and asks, “What do you mean? Where are you?”

You don’t feel safe in your own home. And that day, while you were in Jungkook’s car, Taehyung called to check up on you. He was always good at reading people, and he warned you that he had a bad vibe about Jungkook.

And you’re starting to see what he meant.

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

When you turn your phone, you reveal Taehyung busy in the kitchen, cutting off the crusts from his sandwiches. He looks over his shoulder and gives a sheepish smile at the scandalized expression on your best friend’s face. “Hey Yoongi.”

“Can you please explain what’s going on? Why are you at your ex’s?”

So, you do. You tell him that Jungkook wouldn’t leave you alone, that you needed some space to cool off but he wouldn’t let you breathe. It was becoming overbearing and overwhelming.

Against your better judgment, you call Taehyung. He invites you to stay over at his place until you’re ready to talk things out with Jungkook. Because even if you’re not together, he still cares about you. Because a part of him will always love you. And at the time, it seemed like a good idea.

“I didn’t want to be alone, especially with a killer targeting women like me out there,” you explain quietly. It feels like the murders have increased in a shorter period of time. If the town wasn’t on edge before, they certainly are now. “But I was still mad at Jungkook, and he was starting to scare me.”

“So the first person you go to is your ex-boyfriend?”

“There’s nothing going on between us.”

That ship has sailed. You know it has when you walked in and saw his engagement pictures hanging on the wall.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I’m sure he would’ve figured out that I’d be with you,” you tell him with a frown.

“I just wanted to help her, hyung,” Taehyung adds as he stands behind you. “I worry about her too. That guy gives me and Tan a bad feeling.”

Yoongi sighs. “Listen, I don’t think this is a good idea either. You shouldn’t stay with Taehyung. It’ll just make things look a lot worse.”

“I guess you’re right,” you reluctantly agree. Taehyung grimaces, but he can see Yoongi’s point too.

“I’ll pick you up after my shift. You can stay with me until you’re ready to talk to Jungkook,” Yoongi tells you, looking rather serious. “Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime, okay?”

Hey. It’s Jungkook.

You stare at the message on your phone. Three dots that indicate that he’s typing something, but he keeps erasing and re-typing them again. As if he’s trying to properly convey his words.

Are we breaking up?

You stare at that message even longer. It feels childish to break up with him without trying to talk to him. For the first time in a week, you pick up your phone and type back.

You scared me, Kook.

His response is immediate.

I thought you weren’t scared of anything.

You huff when you realize he’s teasing you, even now.

Movie-wise, I’m not. But this. This is different, Kook. You were really scaring me.

Again, you see the dots appear and disappear before a handful of responses appear.

I know, babe. I’m sorry. Can you please come over? I want to show you something I’ve been working on.

You think about it.

I miss you. Bam misses you too.

Yoongi said not to do anything stupid.

Please, baby. We can just watch a movie, if you want.

But, like in every horror movie, the protagonist finds themselves making a plethora of stupid decisions.

Okay, Kook. I’ll come tonight.

Movie nights with Jungkook was one of the things you always looked forward to throughout the week. Nothing appealed to you more than a night-in with your boyfriend, food delivered at your door, and checking out new shows and movies.

You have your list of favorites, but nothing quite holds a place in your heart than a good ol’ horror movie. Tellings of urban legends, supernatural forces, paranormal activities, true crime, and slasher films.

As you step into Jungkook’s house, it almost feels like you’re in one of those movies.

His place is dark, almost pitched black. You could barely see what’s in front of you.

“Come inside,” Jungkook says, grabbing your hand. He pulls you in and deadbolts the door behind you.

“It’s so dark,” you remark, gingerly stepping forward. You have a bad feeling about this. You almost pull back toward the door, thinking of waiting for Yoongi or going back to Taehyung instead.

But Jungkook has a firm grip on you. “I thought you weren’t afraid of anything.”

“This is different, Kook,” you try to reason. “You’re really freaking me out.”

He pulls you further inside. In the living room, nothing but the TV is on. The screen is paused on a homemade film.

This must be the project that Jungkook is talking about.

Everything is set. The living room is clean, a bowl of popcorn and a couple bottles of alcohol sits on the coffee table, the lights are off, and the show is ready to play. He sits you down in the middle and keeps an arm around you.

“You know, when we met, you were exactly what I was looking for,” he starts as he presses play.

The tape shows you. Bam lying on your lap as you affectionately pet his face and kiss the top of his head. You, holding Jungkook’s hand and leading him down a busy sidewalk. You, in the kitchen, trying to swat his hand away as he steals your ingredients. You and Jungkook, peering into the camera lens, and your bashful face as he kisses your cheek.

A smile tugs on your lips as you watch yourself on the screen. Jungkook leans over, copying his onscreen self and kisses your face.

One thing you liked about filming is seeing things from a different perspective. In this case, seeing yourself through Jungkook’s eyes. You look so happy, so incredibly in love with him.

Like with Taehyung, you fell for Jungkook hard and fast.

But Jungkook fell for you harder and faster.

Your smile fades as the next scene shows.

The camera points to the bed, and a couple walks in. It’s you and Jungkook, stumbling in together after drinks at a bar. You’re laughing and trying to wrap your arms around him as he leads you onto the bed. The kiss you share is messy, heated. You tug off his clothes to feel more of him.

You remember that night, but…

“Jungkook. When did you record this?”

You had no idea he was filming you then.

You don’t realize it then, but he makes eye contact with the camera, as if to check that it’s on. He maneuvers you to get a good angle of your body as you busy yourself with your own clothes, wanting him to touch you more as well.

“Jungkook, stop. I didn’t—”

You feel so sick to your stomach.

“Don’t cry, baby. Here, I’ll fast-forward.”

But you don’t want to watch anymore. You want to leave. You shouldn’t have come here.

The screen shows you and Yoongi. The two of you are at the bakery he works at, and you’re wearing an old cardigan that you got rid of . You smile and eagerly reach for one of the coffees in his hands and take the bag of cookies he’s holding between his lips. He rolls his eyes at something you say before he takes his first sip of his Iced Americano. It’s a typical hangout between you and him.

It looks like it was taken across the street. Your heart plummets even further when you realize that the old cardigan you’re wearing was a piece of clothing you got rid of before you met Jungkook.

The scene changes. You’re sitting at the fountain at your university, looking over a script you wrote for an assignment. Taehyung comes to take a seat next to you. He greets you with a boxy smile and a kiss. The two of you were still dating at the time.

How long has Jungkook known about you?

How long has he been targeting you?

It’s you and Taehyung again. This time, it was filmed from the other night. When Taehyung came to pick you up from your house. He helps you carry some of your things into his car and hugs you when he sees the distressed look on your face.

“Jungkook, what the fuck?”

It dawns on you that you don’t really know your boyfriend at all.

You try to stand up, but Jungkook has a firm hold on you. His grip tightens when you try to resist him, and his hand seizes your neck as he pushes you down. Your heart hammers against your ribs when you quickly realize you can’t escape him. Jungkook is much stronger and faster than you are.

More images flash through the screen. It’s Jungkook this time, taking a mirror-selfie of himself dressed in all black. He has his hood up and a Halloween mask covering his face.

It cuts to his feet walking across the sidewalk. Carefully, the camera tilts up, showing that there’s a woman just ahead of him. She’s about your height, her hair the same as yours. She doesn’t notice him as she listens to music playing in her earbuds.

The scene cuts again, and the same woman is bound and gagged on a chair. Fear shines through her eyes as a shadow of a knife reflects from her body. Behind the camera, Jungkook demands, “Say your line.”

He removes the gag from her mouth. Her voice pitches in a high shrill as she quickly says, “I-I love you. I won’t leave you.”

You recognize her as the latest victim of the latest killings.

And the realization hits you like a truck. Jungkook and his night shifts, the increasing deaths, his interest in filming, having you as the star.

“I practiced, you know. I’ll get it right this time,” he tells you, pulling out some rope he had hidden behind the cushion. You’re trembling as he wraps them tightly around your wrist. “I’ll make sure you don’t leave me again.”

“You’re so bad,” the Jungkook on the screen says, showing what looks like an abandoned warehouse. It’s dimly lit, but you can hear someone running from him. But he doesn’t seem worried, his heavy footsteps casually echo across the concrete. In his hand is a sharp and bloody knife. Mockingly, he asks, “Where did you think you’d go?”

The victim has been let go, but she isn’t free. Ahead, she finds herself cornered as Jungkook catches up to her. Terrified, she holds her hands out in front of her, as if that would stop him.

It’s like seeing your own fate on the screen.

The woman begs and screams before her blood splatters across the floor. You find yourself quoting her, staring up at his darkened eyes. “No, please. Don’t hurt me.”

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks, staring right at you. His mouth twitches, fighting a smile. “I thought you liked horror movies.”

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

#movie night os #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #yandere jungkook #bts horror #jungkook horror #halloween 2023 #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic

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withleeknow · 7 months ago

Note

i think you'll do well with requests bc they seem to be popular in the fanfic side of tumblr! but even if it doesn't take off that quick, at least that'll be less overwhelming bc some ppl can be so demanding....anyways, i hope the best for you in this new journey haha 💝

me personally, i'm not very creative so i'll leave the details to the professionals (aka you) but i'd like to req something from minho's pov. i think those type of stories are SEVERELY lacking in the lee know fics department lol 🥲 it could be a childhood friends to lovers where he is pining for oc but he has a lot of self esteem issues and thinks she's not interested in him. also a big softie and just all around head over heels for her. you can add your magic! (if this is even remotely interesting enough to write lol i just want a minho pov tbh shsjjfjdjdj 😭)

light years.

summary: three times minho bites his tongue, and one time you don't let him.

pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst; kissing, cursing, so much pining i could hurl. could this have been more edited? oh absolutely lmao but i actually don't hate it sooo this is what we're going with :p word count: 4.2k note: to the first anon, thank you so much for your kind words! :') and i'm sorry that this took me longer than expected. i was trying to figure out what i wanted to write for your prompt but then i got the second request with the song and i thought they would go nicely together hehehehe i hope the both of you enjoy thissss

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / request masterlist / ko-fi

I'm not sure what it means to love But I blink kind of slow around you I'm not sure what it means to love But I'll grow wherever you do What that means, I don't have a clue

I'm Not Sure - Margeaux Beylier

One.

Minho is 18 years old, and he doesn't know what love is, doesn't really care for it at all.

While his friends are out there wrapped in the clutches of young love - the kind that blooms with stolen glances in classrooms and sticky notes passed in secrecy, Minho finds it simply unnecessary. He doesn't understand it whenever Hyunjin whines about not having a girlfriend because they're still young, they've got all the time in the world for romance later down the line. It's not the end of the world like Hyunjin laments it is.

Minho has his own life to prioritize. College is starting after the summer and he still needs to figure out how he's going to cope with the absence of his cats once he moves away. He's got dancing and he's got his other hobbies to keep him fulfilled and occupied.

And above all, he's got you.

You're getting ready for your sister's wedding when it happens for the first time. Or rather, when it doesn't happen.

You step back into the room where Minho is waiting for you on the sofa, his gaze resting idly on the screen of his phone, scrolling absentmindedly through his friends' group chat even though he has no interest in whatever they're talking about. You cough lightly to indicate your return after disappearing into the bathroom minutes prior to change into your dress. He looks up upon your soft announcement, and when his eyes settle on you, he swears it feels like an invisible force has collided with his chest and knocked all of the air from his lungs.

Throughout all his years of knowing you, inseparable from childhood until now, Minho has never seen you like this - all dolled up with your hair falling over your collarbones, cascading over your shoulders in soft waves that beckons him to run his fingers through. The light blue dress hugs you beautifully, the silky material catching the light from outside the window every time you shift on your feet under his steady gaze.

"So...?" you ask, moving your arms awkwardly behind your back like you're not sure what to do with them. "What do you think?"

What does he think?

Minho thinks you might just be the prettiest girl in the world. He thinks he must have been an idiot his whole life, to have spent most of his waking hours beside you and not once has he noticed how truly breathtaking you are. He thinks about the feeling that spreads in the pit of his stomach, sends warmth throughout his body and makes his heartbeat race a million miles an hours.

Your best friend blinks slowly as he savors the warmth that he's never experienced before. It's similar to the feeling you get when you're sitting under the shade of a big tree on a summer's day. It's comparable to the satisfied tranquility you get after you've just finished a hearty meal. A little hazy in your contentment.

It's not until you probe with a pointed Well? that Minho realizes he's been staring at you in silence for a few minutes now. He swallows thickly, willing away the words that he wants to say but they get lodged in his throat. He reckons it's weird to verbalize them, because it's not how the two of you function. You don't often utter that kind of sentiment out loud and he doesn't either. Never have and likely never will.

In the end, he bites his tongue. "You look presentable," is what he settles on.

You roll your eyes, then reward him with a laugh.

Minho doesn't care about love. He only cares about you.

Two.

Minho is 21 years old, and he's gotten used to his heart beating erratically whenever he's in your presence.

Three years flew by in the blink of an eye, and graduation is just around the corner. You've always done well in school, straight A student with a track record that most could only dream to have. You put in the hours, you do the work. You deserve everything that you've achieved.

But it's been a challenging few months for you both, being seniors and all. He's had to watch you struggle to stay on top of your classes while also having to slave over a thesis 24/7 until you were sure it was perfect. It reduced you to tears a few times, and Minho was there to hold your hand through it all.

He held you in his comforting embrace when you wanted to give up. He made you dinner when you were too immersed in your schoolwork to notice that you'd forgotten to eat. He was your biggest support system; if it weren't for him, you don't know if you would've made it through.

It's hot outside today, a little unbearable but not uncharacteristic for June. Minho waits in a familiar hallway, the same hall that he's walked past for hundreds of times over the past few years, the same hall that he won't see again once he holds a degree in his hands in only a few weeks' time.

As he sits on an old wooden bench, he bounces his leg as if he's one of the people in the classrooms that line the hall. He doesn't have to be on campus today, but here he is regardless because you're scheduled for your thesis defense this morning. You're in one of those rooms, probably also bouncing your leg from the overwhelming nerves. Minutes feel like hours; you went in there a while ago after he had sent you off with a pat on the head and an encouraging Godspeed.

He's nervous for you, but he's sure that you'll do great. Years of hard work accumulating in what must be the most important moment of your academic journey. You even stayed up all night last night, refusing to sleep a wink just to revise your arguments and talking points.

Minho's head snaps up instantly as he hears a door creak open, the sound of it reverberating throughout the empty hallway like a gong announcing your return from battle. It takes you a few seconds to step out of the room and into his line of sight. He can't see you very well with all this distance between you, but he can still make out the way your frame is visibly shaking with every step you take. He rises to his feet, and you break into a sprint.

He opens his arms wide - a hug of consolation or congratulations, he doesn't know yet - but he still can't seem to brace himself for the collision. You run straight into his embrace, your warms wounding around his middle tightly. Minho feels your tremors, hears your sniffles from where you're pressing your cheek against his shoulder.

"How did it go?" he asks gently.

You start crying then, and he doesn't know if the tears that his shirt is soaking up are those of joy or of grief, but he holds you through it anyway. He swears he can feel every single beat of your heart, hammering so wildly as you're pressed against him like you could sink into him if only you'd push just a little bit more.

"I passed," you say in between sobs. "I got an A."

Minho heaves out the breath that he's been holding ever since you entered that classroom, but it's not like he had any doubt about it to begin with. He hugs you tighter than he's ever had before, and he loves you just the same.

You two must look so dramatic, all wrapped up together in your own little bubble, but who the fuck cares? Although, when another student passes by and coughs, you do break away from him, a little embarrassed for a second.

Even with your hair all mussed up and your flushed cheeks stained with tears, he still thinks you look the same as you did when you were 18 at your sister's wedding. The prettiest girl in the world.

Minho wipes away the wetness on your face with his sleeves, then swipes with gentle thumbs at the moisture that's gathered along your lash lines.

"Holy fucking shit," you breathe out, your shoulders sagging with evident relief, so much more relaxed now that you've done it. "I can't believe it's finally over."

Your best friend can't entirely agree, because he's always believed in you. He's had faith in you since the beginning, since you were mere children laughing and crying together on the playground. You were meant to do great things, this was always crystal clear to Minho.

I love you, he thinks as he smooths a hand over your hair, his chest swelling with nothing but pride and fondness for you. You did so well.

But it's not what he ends up telling you. He swallows it down, washes it away with a dose of regret and longing. He's still not the type to express sappy sentiments, and he's grown accustomed to adoring you only in secret.

"Let's go," he says softly. "I'll buy you dinner."

Minho is still young, he's still got his whole life ahead of him, but he knows what love is now. He knows that it's you.

Three.

Minho is 24 years old, and he finds it hard to make peace with the fact that you're starting to get out there, that you're finally going on dates now that academics aren't taking up most of your time anymore.

To be fair, none of the guys you've seen have been graced with a second date, and Minho thanks his lucky stars whenever you return from a night out and text him a simple Not it. He knows that it wasn't your decision in the first place, that your mom and your sister have been setting you up on blind dates because they want to see you bring a boyfriend home.

You complain about it all the time, whining about how you're not interested but your family is adamant on it. Minho is well aware, and yet, there's a part of him that's a little shaken, because what if? What if the universe miscalculates and the stars misalign just enough in his misfortune for you to cross paths with someone who's absolutely perfect for you? Someone who's a good man that can give you what you've always deserved to have.

He really doesn't know what he would do if that happens. When it happens?

He doesn't know why you're here tonight either, sitting on a chair on the other side of his kitchen island in a pretty dress when you're supposed to be going on a date in half an hour. The guy apparently works for a big record label, some producer that your sister knows through a friend of a friend.

You look indifferent, kind of bored, as you watch Minho makes dinner for himself. "You seem miserable," he comments, taking a quick break from chopping vegetables to glance up at you. You do look a bit miserable, but you're still the most beautiful in his eyes.

You throw your head back and groan loudly, "Because I am. God, I don't know why they keep making me do this. These guys always give nothing."

"Please elaborate."

"They're all boring suits with tedious routines." you say, and as absentminded as your tone is, it sounds a little pointed to Minho's ears. "They don't make me laugh."

Do they not make you laugh, or do they not make you laugh more than I can?

"Then don't go," he snickers, though there's no humor in his voice at all. "These guys sound like duds. Just tell your sister to fuck off."

"Do you mean that? Do you really think I shouldn't go?"

And there's something in your gaze, something so suddenly expectant in the way you're looking at him that makes Minho wonder. If he says yes, would you listen? Would you stay here with him? Would you stay here for him?

I'm serious. Don't go. You can have this and I'll make myself ramyeon. Just be here with me.

You both stare at each other on either side of his kitchen island for an infinite stretch of time. He feels like your eyes are trying to tell him something that he can't decipher, as if they're sending him signals in a language that he never learned how to read.

For a second there, he indulges himself. He pretends that you're only asking because you want to hear him say it. That you want him to put up a fight and not let you go.

But he bites his tongue because it's become a bad habit. A habit that he can't shake because he simply doesn't have the courage to do so. Because if you stay here tonight, looking like that under the cozy lighting of his living room, he might just spill his secrets and he wouldn't be able to take it when reality comes crashing down and you end up telling him that you've never felt the same way.

"I'm kidding," he musters up the words, and tries to plaster on a smile for your sake, even though he's not sure if you really believe it. "You're dressed up anyway. Go and get a free fancy dinner, if anything."

Minho knows what love is, but his love has always lived in the shadows, his longing has only existed in the dark that it terrifies him just thinking about it meeting the light.

Four.

Minho is 26 years old, and he's been a coward for the better part of a decade.

Maybe he's loved you for even longer, but he has spent the past eight years head over heels in love with you, and not once has he done anything about it. Never been able to gather enough courage to ask you out, never even hinted at his feelings for you. He loves you from his place by your side and yet, you've never known.

He loves you the most, but he loves you in the worst way that a person can love another - he loves you in silence.

You're the prettiest girl in the world, and Lee Minho is a pathetic coward.

All these years, he's kept quiet and for what? There's always a spot reserved for him right next to you and yet, it feels like he can only watch you from the sidelines, far away from where it really matters, because he doesn't think he can fit into your life the way he truly wants. You taught him what love was, and love, to Minho, is unattainable. Something he can spend the rest of his life yearning for but won't ever have.

Love hurts. Sometimes, all love does is hurt.

"I would've taken you to a nice restaurant if you asked, you know," he says, putting a chocolate cupcake on the coffee table in front of you before he sits down next to you on the fluffy carpet of your living room. He pulls out a candle next, placing it right in the center of the sweet treat.

Your gaze follows his hand has he lights the candle, your eyes glinting with excitement as though you're a child again and your favorite day of the year is still your birthday. The tiny flame curves and bends, dancing to a rhythm that looks like only you can hear. You watch the candle like it's magic, while Minho just watches you, thinking the same thing.

He watches as you close your eyes and clasp your hands together for the theatrics, then you blow out the flame seconds later with a swift breath.

You turn to him with a smile, "I don't need a nice restaurant. This is perfect."

He blinks, and there's that warmth simmering in his belly again. He first felt it when he was 18, and he feels it now. He feels it almost every moment that he spends with you, and he reckons it's only reasonable, because you're his home personified and love can still be beautiful even when it hurts. There's his heart racing again, but that's nothing new to Minho.

He muses over your words. Perfect. Just one simple word is enough to get his hopes up in a way that it really shouldn't.

Your definition of a birthday well spent is in your cozy apartment, eating takeout pizza with your best friend. Perfect, to you, is him baking you a singular chocolate cupcake upon your request and being with him within these four walls, where his fingers occasionally brush yours when you sit next to each other.

Oh, Minho would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked him to.

He clears his throat lightly, breaking away from your gaze that's full of gratitude and childlike wonder. "What did you wish for?"

"I'm not gonna tell you. It won't come true then."

Wishes don't come true anyway, he thinks, but obviously he won't say it out loud to you, and on your birthday no less. Instead, he diverts his attention to the cupcake, subconsciously tonguing his cheek as he takes a small chunk of the sweet and offers it to you.

You let him feed you even though your eyes are narrowed. "What was that look?" you ask.

"What look?"

"You had a look."

"No, I didn't," Minho insists.

"Yes, you did. You wanted to say something, didn't you?"

He shrugs, popping a piece of cupcake into his own mouth. The answer is yes, he did want to say something, but if you want to get technical about it, then he's wanted to say something for years now. He asks you the same thing every birthday, What did you wish for?, and you would refuse to tell him every time.

"Wishes don't come true," he verbalizes it this time, with a voice that's lighthearted on purpose despite knowing that you wouldn't take it that seriously either way.

You roll your eyes. "Now you're just being pessimistic."

"What? I'm speaking from experience."

"You've never had a birthday wish come true?"

"My birthday wishes haven't come true since I was 18."

Minho feels your eyes on the side of his face, and when you remain quiet for a beat too long, he turns his attention back to you. "What?"

"How do you know they didn't come true?"

"Because..."

Because you've been my wish for almost a decade now. I didn't use to believe in wishes but I always believed in you. Every year, I wish for you to look at me the way I look at you, but it never comes true. Every year, I wish that you would love me back, not just as a friend, but you never do. You are my wish, but you're also the very reason why I know wishes don't come true.

Then he's laughing, but nothing is remotely funny about this. It's your birthday and suddenly all he can think about is how much it stings to be reminded that you're the only thing he'll ever wish for, and still, maybe this simple wish is absurd enough that the universe will never grant him what he truly wants.

"Never mind," he says. "This whole thing is silly."

There he goes, biting his tongue again. Coward.

"No, what were you going to say?"

"You're so bossy today," Minho pretends to complain.

"It's my birthday. Tell me," you press on, and suddenly he can't find any appreciation for your stubbornness that he's adored all his life. You keep your eyes fixed on him when all he wants to do is hide from you.

What is he supposed to say to you? What can he even say? That he's spent more than a third of his life hopelessly enamored with you? That the second he utters any of this out loud, he knows it will be the end of your friendship?

And Minho can't afford to lose you. Even if it hurts, he would rather let love hurt than live in the absence of you.

"Eat your cupcake," he says instead. "I'll get some ice cream."

He makes a move to get up, and the bad habit further cements its place in his subconscious. He's always running away from you when you're supposed to be the person he can be the most open with. This is how he knows he doesn't deserve you.

But you reach for his wrist and it makes him still, the feeling of your hand sliding downward to hold onto his fingers. He's used to the feeling of your smaller hand in his, used to how he can hear his heartbeat in his ears whenever you lace your fingers together.

What he isn't accustomed to, is the look on your face this very second, akin to the one you wore two years ago as you sat on the other side of his kitchen island, asking him if you should go.

Expectant and hopeful; you're holding something back too.

The words that slip from your lips are ones that he never imagined you would say to him.

"I've waited for you long enough."

His poor excuse of retrieving ice cream is all but forgotten as he stares at you, doe-eyed and despairingly confused. "What is that supposed to mean?"

You take a breath, and Minho wonders if this is how he looked every time he wanted to say something only to back down in the end.

Then it all comes rushing out.

"For a while, I thought there might've been something between us, something more than just friendship. I don't know why I thought that, I just had a feeling. On the day of our graduation, I thought you would finally kiss me or at least say something, but you didn't. Whenever I went on dates, I wanted you to tell me not to go, that I was wasting my time with those guys that couldn't make me laugh because they weren't you. You never said anything, you never did anything. I waited every birthday just like I waited tonight. You're still holding it over me and I'm starting to wonder if you really love me too or if I imagined everything this whole time."

Your voice gets smaller toward the end, almost as if the uncertainty takes over you the longer he remains silent. He doesn't have the words for it, doesn't really have the mental capacity to process all of what you just professed. Years and years of longing, of hoping that you would come running into his arms the same way you did on the morning of your thesis defense, and it turns out that you were always the one waiting for him to reach you.

If you really love me too.

Your fingers start to loosen around his but Minho doesn't let you get away, not now and not ever again. Not when he finally knows that he's burnt up enough of your time just because he was too stuck in his head to see that you were holding a hand out for him all along.

He pulls you into his orbit and he likes to imagine that somewhere out there in the infinite universe, two stars collide when he kisses you for the first time, long overdue but still heavenly nonetheless.

He's crying but you don't seem to mind the tears. You're kissing him back and it's really all that matters. He can't think straight but he adores you to the point that his lungs ache.

"I love you," he mumbles against your lips. The sentiment comes out clumsy, half coherent but wholeheartedly sincere. "I'm sorry. I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you."

You're the one who breaks the kiss first, with your hand on his chest gently pushing him away. Panic instantly shoots through him like a lightning strike. These are the words he's been holding back for years, did he not even say them right? Did he fuck things up yet again?

You brush the tears from his cheeks, your voice so impossibly soft when you ask, "Do you mean it?"

Minho splinters into a million pieces, of course he does.

Your name falls from his lips, sounding like a prayer, like the most tender plea that's ever been uttered, "I love you the most. I'm so in love with you that it hurts. I've been yours for so long and I never said anything. Fuck, I-I'm sorry. I love you so much. I'm sorry. I-"

You bring his face to yours once more, shushing him with a kiss that makes him putty in your hands. You tell him that it's okay, and you kiss him like you forgive him. The world could be ending right now, and he doesn't think that either of you would even care very much.

Because you're the only wish of his life, and you kiss him as though you want to make up for the lost years. Because Minho feels like he's 18 again and you're the most beautiful girl in the world, wearing a smile that leaves him breathless in the most wonderful way possible.

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know angst #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho

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singukieee · 5 months ago

Text

—my all time favourite bts fics (pt. 2) ᯓᡣ𐭩

consists of my personal favourite bts fics that I've read countless of times. including those from other platforms, such as Wattpad, AO3, and Patreon.

For some works that are cross-posted between tumblr and wp/ao3, I'd only link them to the latters bcs I find it easier to read and navigate the stories on those. but I also tagged all the authors I know are here and linked the rest so you can check their blogs out yourself!

I'll also separate this list into several parts simply because there's too many... So it'd be easier for you guys to navigate!

red means unfinished

blue means finished

🗯️ editor's note

(sorted by alphabetical order)

Dreams of You by seoktishie

You are a theater actress who dreams of becoming a successful Broadway star. You’ve dedicated your whole life hustling for the show, surrounded by a supportive family and friends you never thought you would lose your best friend and boyfriend on the same day. This puts your dreams to a halt, and you decide to take a break and a soul-searching trip to Korea, where you meet a successful artist that reconnects your love for the arts. OR You accidentally meet Kim Namjoon of BTS, and you had no idea of how an amazing person he is nor how he is the leader of the biggest boyband to date!

🗯️ the yearning and pining *chef's kiss*

Epiphany by 2stanornot2stan

Your soulmate mark seemed self-centred to you "I'm the one I should love" Who would ever want to love someone with that as their soulmate mark?

🗯️ this one is painful. but writing's so good, doesn't fail in pulling my heartstrings.

Escapade by bonnehh_

"Where the hell am I?!" He shrieked, stumbling over his feet like a newborn deer. He was a panicking mess, spinning around in circles to see the unfamiliar sight of giant trees and bushy plants covering the land. The forest was heavily rich with greenery, vegetation and strange fruits. Fallen leaves covered the ground, creating a crunching sound after every step he took. "Calm down, Sweets." I calmly voiced amidst his loud screeches. My words cut through his mess of a mind making him freeze on his spot. Turning on his heel, he noticed me. He stumbled back immediately, possibly because I was covered in angry, red scratches and the bandages covering my arms alerted the male. "What the fudge?!!?! Who- who are you??" He shouted, alarmed by my…seemingly beaten-up figure. "I'm Diana. Welcome to the game." I smiled softly. Hoping my excitement can keep a hold of itself for the sake of keeping the man from getting scared. Dumbfounded, He could only let one word out, "Huh?". Oh boy.

🗯️ a cool one! many adventures and mc has freakishly good survival skills. this honestly cured my longing for that one fic that's no more that was also survival, adventure and game themed with slight crack. I think it was called 'Ready Player One'? (not that famous book and movie). but I think it was a translated ver of a chinese ff on another platform. Idk I still missed it very much, it was also very good. (If you know anything abt this, pls dm me!)

Ethereal by @purpleyoonn

After leaving your home in need of a fresh start, you open a bookstore with the hopes that the words you read could bring you solace. You never realized that the books you loved would bring you home instead.

🗯️ I love soulmate stories, this author also has good writing so

Euphoric Endeavours by haveagreatday

Through a series of curious happenstances, the Boys of Bangtan - your campus' most popular and most handsome group of individuals - set their sights on you, a regular student with a stubborn streak and a wayward mouth. Strangely enough, the mere sight of them sets your instincts off, red-lights flashing in your brain - danger, danger, danger, danger. It's too bad that they can't seem to leave you alone, though. They like you too much.

🗯️ enemies to lovers, anyone?

Everything Falls (Into Place) by Hiromi_20 / @blog-name-idk

"I… I might know someone who has a spare room," your brother finally muttered hesitantly. You perked up from where the couch had been swallowing you. "What! And you didn't tell me?" You accused. "You'd be living with a bunch of dudes." "Oh my god Jackson," you groaned, rolling your eyes. "The fact that you're even suggesting them means that you know them all and they're good people, right? It's not like they're gonna murder me and hide my body in the walls or something." "Well, yeah, but…" "But WHAT?" you almost screamed in frustration. "They're all… hot." Silence for several moments. Then you started guffawing uncontrollably, unladylike snorts escaping from your lips. "You are such a dork," you gasped between laughs, tears coming to your eyes. "If I promise not to let them gangbang me, will you please ask?"

🗯️ another really well-written crack fic! goshhh this one's so goood! this one's the real friends to lovers, gosh the pining is just *chef's kiss*

Finding My Pack by @untaemedqueen (paid on Patreon but so worth it)

In which an all-alpha pack unexpectedly found their mate isolated in a sterile room. So the only right thing would be to pamper and love her to make up for all those years she spent alone and lonely.

🗯️ spicyy 🥵 but also cute. I love protective mates

Flaw in The System by Strayberry_

She has 8 moons on her wrist. So do they.

🗯️ honestly Idk what to say about this one. just prepare your tissues for this family of misfits that fit so well together.

Full House by fillomina

Y/N has a steady job and lives alone, that is, until she tags along with her friend to the shelter. Jimin, Hobi, and Yoongi have been waiting to get adopted, and their chance has finally arrived. With the small hybrid pack now living with Y/N, her life never has a dull moment. As Y/N gets used to her new family, she also begins learning more about old friends, making new ones, and getting a very full house.

🗯️ I'd say that I don't like the fact that yn's kinda treated as a doormat at some parts, but it's still good and quite well-written found family fic.

Getting Back Into The Swing of Things by @jellifysh

Hearing her voice now, Namjoon was reminded of the times when she was all he had. How she was his everything, supported him with everything she had, even if it meant giving him the shirt off her back. "Joon?" Y/n sniffled. "I know it sounds crazy, you don't even have to, its been years," "No," Namjoon was agreeing before he could even think, before he could even remember the other people who lived in the house just the next room over. "No, its okay, I mean, we promised each other right? We'd never turn our backs on each other?" "You can stay with us, it'll be fine I promise, I'll handle everything, don't worry at all, it'll be great! Like, old times, okay?" Namjoon was tripping over his words now, he just felt like if he didn't see her now, he would be too late for… something. What, he wasn't sure, but there was an urgent need to have her home safe.

🗯️ just re-read this one again literally yesterday, still as good as the first time. I love strangers to friends to lovers.

Her by untouchablerave

The question hangs between you, and you’re desperate to ask it. Usually, you don’t mind much who is on the other end of the appointment, as you’re so focused on a list of kinks, trying to map out a scene in your head, but this time, the ‘who’ is all you can focus on. Your boss looks at you. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this but… do you know BTS?” Your head snaps up in shock. “You’re fucking with me,” you gasp. “I’m dead serious,” your boss replies. “Jeon Jungkook just came of age. He wants to lose it right away.”

🗯️ spicy but soft soft softtt

Hidden Marks series by Havenesa

❶ Hidden Marks

What does it mean to be soulmates? What do I love about her? What is the reason? Does there need to be a rational reason to love someone? Maybe I love her amber eyes, or the way she tries to hide her smile whenever we get into playful arguments, or her love for just living. Maybe I just love her because she is simply just Han Sera.

🗯️ This one's so angsty yet so good, the writing's also so good at making the characters so human that I'd always end up sobbing at every re-read.

❷ Connecting Hearts

What defines a soulmate? Is it the mark that you were born with, only shared with a selected few? Or a bond which was created through pain and suffering? You'll have to read to find out.

Highlight by Alphathyx

Hana attends Atlas Academy of Arts also known as the AAA to pursue her passions in Hiphop with best friend Hoseok and Prince Charming Jimin. The school gets selected along with other arts schools to compete in an inter-school competition which prize could open doors to any arts students dreams. She along with seven boys, discover what it means to love, but a tragic incident spirals the competition and them into a mystery no one saw coming.

🗯️ friendship and struggle to success <3

Hotel California by Deliebre

You are a badass business guru that works for a huge gaming company. Your home is Korea but you travel often. You are in California for work but keep bumping into hot Korean men, which makes you want to do more than bumping...

🗯️ immediate connection... yes please!

In The Dark by BearPawBeach

"How can that be? I am looking right at you. I am speaking to you right now." "That's the thing. I don't know! That's why I came here today. Yesterday, when you laughed at me, you laughed at me. I almost didn't believe it myself, but the more I thought about it, the crazier it sounded. So I came here to see you and to know if you can see me!" she blurted out. He could not believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. "Look, you don't need to lie to me. There is no need to make up some crazy excuse to meet someone." "I'm not lying! I really am invisible," she argued back. The man just threw his hands up to concede and turned to walk away from her again, walking right out of the building. The girl followed in hot pursuit. "Do you really not believe me? Why would I make something like that up? Yes, I know it sounds crazy. If I were you, I would probably think it's nuts too, but I am telling you the truth!"

🗯️ mc is invisible in this one, story's kinda sad and cute!

In Your Roots by sweetinsanityy

Jungkook is the perfect alpha, a little too perfect. Being the youngest in Bangtan, a group full of alpha's, friction has been happening between him and the boys. He's too strong, too dominating, too wild, and too much for Bangtan to handle. The perfect solution? An omega just for himself. You happen to be the perfect candidate. But the other boys want a taste of you as well. Or, you're hired to be an omega for Jungkook to take care of, and maybe he and the rest of the boys get too attached.

🗯️ another one about the boys being absolute simps!

Iridescent Love by @imnotlauriane

From a fated meeting to a life filled with wonders, the path of discovery is much, much harder than what I had prepared myself for. Especially when my identity, the only one I knew of ends up being a total lie.

🗯️ sad... but it got better. and what did I say abt imnotlauriane's stories? they're all good!

It's a Little Complex? by Infired_Mochi

Starting college and moving into a new apartment with complete independence has been your goal. Due to all the hard work at the cafe during your high school years, and your parents pitching in a few dollars, you can afford to stay in the apartment that is just the right size. However, did you get more than you bargained for? A few other college students occupy the rooms next to yours, seven to be exact. Eight rooms reside on the third floor of the apartment complex and yours is on the farthest right wing, apartment number 308. Just wait until you meet them.

🗯️ sooo it's a little complex... just read it!

Late Bloomer by basicwitch13

Despite growing up in a wolf pack, you were never able to shift nor had a second gender present itself. It seemed, by all accounts, that you were a typical human. So you carried on, burying yourself in your work as a sociology professor—until one of your students introduces you to his pack and changes everything.

🗯️ yes to yearning, pining, and healing.

Like Crazy by @euphoricfilter

The story of seven loves across eight lives.

🗯️ so freakin well-written

Little Do You Know... by @yoongiofmine

In a world where idols and actors can’t date, whether it be because of contracts, lack of time, or the dangers that involve having your personal life leaked, the market opened up for a new work field. Playmate Agencies emerged to supply the entertainment world with highly trained companions for hire. Bangtan is looking for new playmates. And you just happen to be the one all of them choose.

🗯️ another idk what to sayy, just read bcs it's so gooood.

Magic Shop by AriZedd

In which Yn is meeting new friends (and an old one) getting charmed day by day.

🗯️ just read this crack fic, strangers to friends to ... I'm obsessed.

PART 1 | PART 3 | PART 4 | NAVI

#san recs #hybrid bts #bts poly #bts x reader #fics recs #bts ot7 #bts ot7 x reader #bts fic

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retroaria · 3 months ago

Text

Oliver Aiku NSFW Alphabet ∘°∘♡∘°∘

summary: NSFW alphabet headcanons for the sexiest man that’s ever walked this earth

warnings: NSFW (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) FEM!reader, I skipped some letters bc I got lazy mb yall, dom/sub play, choking, hair pulling, spitting, mentions of hitting, oral (m+f receiving), light voyerism, handcuffs, use of mommy/daddy, unprotected sex

BLUE LOCK M.LIST | enjoy my little freaks 🤍- aria

ꨄ︎ A is for Aftercare

Oliver does very simple aftercare. He’ll always run a shower for himself afterwards and invite (beg) you to join (potential round 2 if you say yes). Depending on the time of day/overall vibe afterwards he’ll always ask if you’re hungry or if you just wanna go to sleep. He’s not pandering to you in the aftermath but he’s definitely acknowledging that it’s now time to relax and just enjoy each other’s company. Just wants to make sure you’re comfy!!

ꨄ︎ B is for Body Part

Contrary to popular belief, Oliver isn’t full of himself, he’s just a confident man! He knows he’s attractive. his favorite part of himself is probably his arms/shoulders or his torso. He keeps up with his physique and puts a lot of work in for his sport of course and he likes looking a certain way for himself and the ladies. Oliver is 100% an ass man. He’s always resting his hand on it or on your lower back. As much as he loves looking at your pretty face when he fucks you he’s just a sucker for gripping you from behind watching is cock sink in and out of you.

ꨄ︎ C is for Cum

Oliver isn’t too into the concept of his own cum unless it’s inside of you. Doesn’t like cumming on your face bc how could he defile such an adorable fucked out face. He’d much rather watch it fill up your mouth and throat (slowly dripping out the corner of your mouth) Cumming on your stomach feels blasphemous to him bc why would he do the extra step when he could’ve just fucked all of it inside you??? Nonetheless he’s a respectful boy and will pull out if you ask him. Loves when you cum first and he can see it coating his cock around the base (even better if it’s his cum combined with yours after multiple rounds) (would make you suck it off after).

ꨄ︎ D is for Dirty Secret

Not really a secret but Oliver likes to record himself fucking you whenever he can to save for his own personal collection. He of course can and will always get off to watching you touch yourself or photos of you in cute lingerie, but nothing beats watching you get fucked by him. It’s like he can remember the feeling when he watches the videos, every sound you make reminding him of the corresponding grip of your tight cunt around him, how good you felt as he fucked you through every orgasm. He gets off on the fact that he did that to you and you let him.

ꨄ︎ E is for Experience

Before you and Oli started seeing each other he had his fair share of other partners. Truthfully, he’s a bit of a man whore. What can I say he loves to fuck and, now that he can, he especially loves to fuck you. the both of you have shown to be rather appreciative of his past experience bc now all those well learned skills get to be used on making you absolutely weak for him.

ꨄ︎ F is for Favorite Position

It’s either your legs thrown over his shoulders as he locks his lusty eyes with yours, gripping your thighs and ruining that pretty pussy, OR he’s ramming into you from behind, death grip on your hips, smoothing his hands over your ass, planting a soft slap every so often, pulling you up by your hair so he can turn your head and see your pleading eyes begging him not to stop.

ꨄ︎ H is for Hair

He keeps himself trimmed, close to the skin, overall very well groomed. Doesn’t like when it grows out and gets too thick. Would 1000% not give a fuck if you’re shaven or not. Bald or full bush, pussy is still pussy and he’s gonna love it every time. He’s really into the little heart thing that some girls do, thinks it’s hot asf. Would actually prefer some sign of hair over completely hairless bc he likes women and women have hair lol. A simple man truly.

ꨄ︎ I is for Intimacy

As much as he loves using you like a fuck toy he’s a sucker for long foreplay sessions, classic missionary, medium pace, constant eye contact, deep kisses, all that. He likes knowing that no matter how he fucks you he can still ruin you. Wants to savor you whenever he can, even if he’s being rough, he likes to take his time with you and make his top priority to have you flushed in absolute pleasure.

ꨄ︎ J is for Jack Off

As mentioned previously, he loves jerking off to you. He spends an unfortunate amount of time away for games and training but he relishes in the peace of being able to go back to his hotel room and remember how good you felt wrapped around him.

ꨄ︎ K is for Kinks

Not the MOST kinky boy out there but he’s into basic dom/sub stuff. He is almost always the dominant one but he can’t deny the few times he’s let you ride him with your hands around his throat still cross his mind when he’s yearning for you. thinks calling you mommy is hot but you calling him daddy is even hotter. Likes choking, hair pulling, biting, and spitting on the giving or receiving end. keeps an open mind in the bedroom and likes doing whatever you think will get you off the most. Would let you even go as far as to handcuff or blind fold him, it gets him all excited. Wants to be a vessel that can consistently bring you pleasure in whatever form you need it.

ꨄ︎ L is for Location

In most spaces he’s probably already thought about how he could get away with fucking you there (horny bastard). Won’t ever push you to do it anywhere you aren’t comfortable but will go absolutely feral if you told him you needed him right then and there. You don’t even have to think about anything he’s already got you up against the wall in some closet he scoped out or bent over a bathroom sink. doesn’t care if it’s at someone else’s house or someone else’s bed even. Really likes fucking you in the car (enclosed space = more sweat = more pants and moans from you that make him want to cum on the spot)

ꨄ︎ M is for Motivation

His sex drive is unstoppable, he doesn’t even need motivation. If you wanna fuck he has no other choice what else is a boy to do?? He’s got a lot of different turn-on’s but at the top of that list is any piece of clothing/outfit that makes your pussy easily accessible. He loves tearing your clothes completely off but the idea of simply having to lift your dress and pull your panties to the side in one fell swoop before he gets to fuck you makes him feel like he can really have you whenever he wants.

ꨄ︎ N is for No

As said before he keeps an open mind but he’s still not a super kinky guy and he’s got some big no-no’s. Sorry for all my bratty boy tamers in the chat but Oliver would not let you peg him. The thought actually scares him a bit. not into any crazy bondage that wouldn’t allow you to tug on his hair, scratch up his back, or wrap your legs around him. Handcuffs are hot but that’s about it. He also doesn’t like to hit you at all unless it’s to slap your ass. Even if you asked him to bc you wanted it he would say no, it just wouldn’t feel right for him.

ꨄ︎ O is for Oral

Loves going down on you but can’t go for super long bc it gets him way too worked up. Always makes you taste yourself after he pulls his fingers out of you or he’ll come back up from between your thighs and push his tongue into your mouth while it’s coated in your wetness. Unless it’s a quickie, sex isn’t complete unless he’s sucked on your clit at some point. Will literally never deny a blowjob from you or any chance to fuck your pretty face. He’s also not above asking you for them, although it’s never really the first thing he wants to do with you. Likes having you do it after he’s fucked you. Goes nuts if you offer to suck him off in public.

ꨄ︎ P is for Pace

He likes to pay attention to your reactions during sex and base his pace and thrusts off of that. Whatever is bringing you closer to the brink is the way he wants to go. But sometimes he wants it his way and can’t help but fuck you hard and slow or fast and sloppy, depends on how he’s feeling.

ꨄ︎ Q is for Quickie

Oliver loves quickies. As a human being with free will he uses his right to fuck you whenever and wherever. If you happen to finish getting ready with an outfit on that he thinks would look better on the floor, it’s over. Likes to make it a challenge sometimes to see how fast he can make you come. Enjoys the thrill of fucking you before someone else is supposed to show up to where ever you are. “Stop it Oli your team will be back in here in ten minutes!” “I could make you cum at least twice before then, just relax baby”

ꨄ︎ R is for Risk

As stated in Q and L, he gets off on knowing he’s got you in a bad situation while making you feel so good. The embarrassment riddled across your face and the way you try desperately to quiet your staggered moans and whimpers drives him crazy. He’s got an effect on you that proves to be almost uncontrollable and he loves to watch you struggle.

ꨄ︎ S is for Stamina

Oliver’s stamina is very dependent on what his day consisted of. No matter what his want to be inside you will always prevail over any tiredness he may feel, but no promises he’ll stick out for long. At peak energy, 3-4 hours is his max, if he’s tired from practice or other work stuff, you’re lucky if you get 30 minutes but he’s still gonna have you a moaning mess in that short amount of time. (3 minutes with this man is all I need tbh let me in the ring)

ꨄ︎ T is for Toys

Oliver definitely has some toys but I imagine them just being for you. Like he’s got a few vibrators, definitely a pair of handcuffs, I don’t see him as the kind of guy to own a dildo. “My dick is already free use for you why do you need another one???” He has a fleshlight but doesn’t use it anymore bc it just doesn’t feel like you.

ꨄ︎ U is for Unfair

Oli is a tease. When he’s really into his dominant role in the bedroom he makes it his mission to drag you out as long as he can. He wants you seeing stars, blabbering nonsense, drooling his name, begging him for some sort of release. On the flip side he’s also a beast and wants to see you on the verge of tears after your 8th orgasm that night. He’s either overstimulating you or treating you like a little brat.

ꨄ︎ V is for Volume

AHHHH ok this man moans. Hear me out! He would honestly cry if he fucked you and you didn’t make a single sound and he imagines that you would feel the same way too so he really doesn’t hold back when it comes to moaning, groaning, even whimpering, whatever sound you’ve drawn out of him, he wants you to hear it. When you come around his cock and your pussy clenches down on him through your waves of pleasure he really loses it. No words could be said by him during this time just incomplete breaths and strangled moans. Don’t even get me started on when you suck him off. (He loves sounding dirty for you)

ꨄ︎ X is for X-Ray

Oliver is definitely above average in terms of length. He’s standing at about 8.5 inches, 9 on a good day. His cock isn’t too girthy but it’s proportional to his length. He curves slightly upwards and his veins are rather prominent.

ꨄ︎ Y is for Yearning

Oliver is always yearning for you sexually and emotionally when he’s away and he can’t be with you. Even if he isn’t away and you’re just busy doing work or something he is so bothersome to have around bc he constantly wants to be touching you (running his hand up your skirt) or kissing you (all over your body).

ꨄ︎ Z is for Zzz

Sex doesn’t wear him out too much. One of his favorite parts about fucking you is actually the part where you guys are done and you’re laying side by side holding each other talking until you both fall asleep. He loves the sound of your tired voice as you tell him about your day and the intimacy of the skin on skin contact. He holds you like a little baby kitten, with gentle caressing, smoothing his hand down your sides or along your back, carding his fingers through your hair or resting his hand on your face rubbing his thumb on your cheek (which very heavily contrasts the way he was digging his fingers into your hips as he fucked the life out of you just minutes ago)

My god what a trip. This is actually my first time writing anything NSFW ever!!!! So sorry if it’s kinda ass :( either way I needed to write something to fill the oliver aiku shaped hole in my heart. Love you guys, stay safe :)

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whore-era · 2 years ago

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1-800-GIRLS - part 2

☁︎ modern!ellie x sex-hotline-operator!fem!reader, very small mention of dealer!ellie ☁︎ summary: in which ellie takes her favorite phone sex hotline operator out on their first date! ☁︎ warnings: contains smut! 18+ only. top/dom!ellie, bottom/sub!reader, interactions with men, dirty talking/praise, fingering (r!recieving), use of fem nicknames, slight mention of petplay, let me know if i missed anything else pls. ☁︎ a/n: back by popular demand, and to thank you all for 1k. i love u all from the bottom of my heart. thank u all so so so much. also there will be NO PART 3! s/o to my girl @clearheartgreyflowers for staying up w me til 3am writing smut LMAO ☁︎ word count: 5,124 ☁︎ 1-800-GIRLS part 1

thursday, 1:15am → ongoing call with sir steven (ft. lauderdale, FL)

sir steven (client): thank you, sugar. did good as always, pretty lady.

sugar: no problem, sir.

sir steven (client): have a good night, darlin'. good night.

the line clicks on the other end, and you finally let out a big stretch, able to relax as you close the hotline for the night. you made 13 calls tonight, which usually wouldn't be enough to help with bills, but much to your dismay, ellie had been sending you money nonstop.

it's been a couple of weeks since you first met her in the library, and since then, you've seen each other here and there, most of your communication being made through texts and calls, as you both have been extremely busy with final exams and work. barely getting any real time to spend together besides having lunch together or walking to class when the time allows it.

however, ever since you revealed to ellie your real name and gave her your personal phone number, she's been using it to her advantage — sending you money through applepay/paypal, paying for food to get delivered to your apartment when you tell her you haven't ate that day, or getting uber's or taxis to pick you up when she wasn't able to come get you herself.

she was very persistent in being your provider, insisting that with her income, she could support you full-time and buy you everything you needed and more.

but you didn't have it in you to just quit this hotline gig. you didn't want to feel like you had to rely on ellie, and the last thing you wanted was to burden her with your own issues.

thursday, 1:30am → incoming call from ellie (jackson, WY)

you: ellie...?

ellie: hi baby.

you: why are you calling the hotline? you have my number, silly.

ellie: what? can't check in on my girl?

you couldn't help the flush in your cheeks. ellie never failed to make you blush. she always made a point to flirt, hard, and you both weren't even in a relationship, yet.

you: what can i do for my favorite client?

ellie: hm, how does going out with me on saturday night sound?

you: like...a date?

ellie: yeah, don't you think we're a bit overdue for one?

you: sure! what should i wear?

ellie: 's up to you. you make anything look beautiful.

you hated how easily she made the heat rise to your cheeks.

ellie: are you blushing?

you: ....no.

ellie: liar. just for that, you owe me a kiss on our date.

you: hm, we'll see.

ellie: guess we will.

saturday couldn't have arrived any faster, and by the time you knew it, it was 6:00 in the evening, almost time for your first date with ellie.

you couldn't make up your mind on what to wear, trying on different outfit combinations, determining which one you think ellie would like more.

groaning in frustration, you seemingly settled on a baby blue dress, with a light and warm cardigan. the weather was absolutely perfect for this type of outfit, not too hot with just the slightest breeze.

as you touched up your makeup, swiping on your favorite gloss, you couldn't seem to calm the nerves boiling in your belly. what was there to be nervous about? you were going on a date with one of the coolest and prettiest girls you have ever seen in your life.

overthinking every possible worst-case scenario that could happen tonight, you took some deep breaths, shaking off the images of you possibly falling on your face, snorting while you laugh, or accidentally passing gas in front of ellie. oh god, if that were to happen tonight, you didn't think you could ever face her again.

you would have to change jobs. and schools.

"god, jesus, whoever, please have my back tonight," you whisper to yourself, suddenly jumping at the small 'ping' coming from your phone.

unlocking your phone, you see it's a text from ellie:

ellie <3: I'm on my way up baby, u ready?

you: yes! i'm ready hehe

you take the time to lace your shoes at the front door, giving yourself a quick one-over in the mirror to see if you were presentable, at the least.

two soft knocks on the door resonated through your apartment, and you took a deep breath as you unlocked the latch, mentally preparing yourself for tonight.

swinging the door open, you're greeted by the tall, emerald-eyed girl.

"hey, baby," she greets, leaning over to plant a kiss on your cheek, "you look gorgeous."

your eyes fell to the ground, cheeks flushing with crimson. get ahold of yourself. you're acting like a teenage girl with a puppy-love crush, you echoed in your mind.

"thanks, els. you look pretty cute too," you compliment shyly, looking down at her fit — a white shirt complimented with a red flannel and dark-washed jeans. of course, hair styled in her signature half-up ponytail and sporting her white and black converse sneakers.

"ready to go?"

"yeah, let's go ahead."

"cool, just parked over here in the parking lot."

taking hold of your hand, the two of you head out to the parking lot, and she takes the lead in guiding you to her car. her hands felt warm and clammy— and you wondered if ellie was feeling just as nervous as you were.

and she was.

ellie was freaking the fuck out. from the outside, you appeared calm and relaxed, which put her at unease. were you not excited to be going out with her? were you going to like what she planned for tonight? what if you absolutely hated the date she organized? it'd tear ellie's heart to pieces.

but ellie couldn't overthink, especially not right now. she couldn't let her emotions get the best of her, and she only had to think of the present — you.

ellie fished out her keys from her pocket, briefly letting go of your hand to unlock the car and open the passenger side door for you.

getting inside, you mumbled a quick 'thank you'. as ellie scurried to the driver's side of the car, you scanned your eyes around the interior of her car.

what the hell? was she driving a...dodge hellcat? you knew ellie drove, but you didn't know she drove such an expensive muscle car. how much money did she make being a dealer?

her car smelled just like her, fresh and musky, and she kept it fairly clean.

ellie piled in the driver's seat of her car, putting the key in the ignition and turned on the engine.

"soooo, where are we going?" you queried.

"that's a surprise," ellie smirks, and suddenly she places her hand behind the head of your seat, turning her neck to look at the rear windshield as she backed out of the parking spot.

you swallowed thickly, focused primarily on how hot she looked doing something as simple and elementary as reversing her car. the way her neck flexed, the way her arm tattoo looked by your face, and the way she was concentrated on moving the vehicle — suddenly turned the heat up in this confined space.

"you okay? you look a bit warm," ellie asks, interrupting your train of thought.

"huh? yeah, no, i-i'm okay," you smile meekly, "it's j-just a little warm in here."

"oh, sorry," her hands went to turn on the air conditioning, the gentle breeze of cool air providing relief, "there you go. better?"

you nod, "much better, thanks."

"wanna play some music?" she asks, holding her phone up.

"hmm, you can put whatever you want on. i wanna see what type of music you're into."

"okay," ellie says with a wide smile, "suit yourself."

approaching a stop light, ellie uses the window of opportunity to tap away on her phone, searching for her favorite song. the song 'the spins' by mac miller plays throughout the car at a mellow volume.

"great taste. i love this song," you chime.

"yeah? me too," ellie states, "i loved mac miller since like, forever."

eyes gravitating towards ellie, you couldn't help but get lost in a daze at the way she drives, the slight spread in her legs, one hand on the wheel, the stray strand of hair that falls in her face — she was dangerous.

and ellie could feel the burning gaze you were searing on the side of her face, "you okay there?"

"hmm?"

"you keep staring at me."

"oh— uh— i'm sorry. i didn't mean to—" you sputtered, ashamed that you'd been caught red-handed.

"it's fine, baby, no worries. just wanted to know if there was anything on your mind was all," ellie briefly tears her eyes away from the road to check on you.

you had to quickly think of an excuse, something to save you from this embarrassment — "just thinking of where we're going."

the girl chuckles, "well, we're already here."

the neon lights were the first thing that caught your attention, then the rapidly moving contraptions, and lastly the laughter from the crowds of people.

"we're at the carnival?!" you squealed, unable to contain your excitement.

"yea," ellie muttered sheepishly, "uh— i saw on your instagram how you shared the posts about wanting to go on your story, so i-"

you cut her off with a forceful hug, "oh my god! ellie! we have to get out now! let's go, let's go, let's go!!"

"alright, baby, let me put the car in park-" she began, but you were already halfway down the entrance.

"wow! ellie! that one was so fun! it was exhilarating!" you breathed out, fueled by the rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins after riding the 'slingshot' rollercoaster.

ellie couldn't be any more amused, smiling down at you, "yeah? you liked that one, babe?"

"yes! i loved it!" you squealed, but as the adrenaline wavered, you began to feel that familiar rumble in your stomach, "it did give me an appetite, though."

"wanna get a little something to eat?" ellie's hand is securely interlaced with yours, guiding you towards the various food stands.

you nod, "mhm, i am starved."

"just tell me what you want, and i'll get it for you, m'kay?" she gives you a smile and squeezes your hand as your eyes scan the numerous items to choose from.

corndogs. cotton candy. kettle corn. pretzels. chilli cheese hot dogs. funnel cake.

"hmmm, i think i want some funnel cake," you suggest, "we can share it."

"sounds good to me," ellie shrugs and you both fall in line. she orders and pays for the sweet treat and the worker hands her the food, as you find a vacant picnic table to sit at.

digging into the crispy, creamy treat, you couldn't hold back the moan of delight that came from your mouth.

"oh my god! this is amazing!" you moan, whip cream getting all over your lips.

ellie was too busy hyper-fixating on the cream that sat on your lip, and before thinking about anything else, she swiped it off your bottom lip with the pad of her thumb, bringing it to her lips and sucking it clean.

"mmm, delicious," she commented, then consumed the dessert as if nothing had happened.

leaving you stunned, you gulped the cup of water she gave you, attempting to soothe the heat seeping down below.

"so, which ride do you wanna get on next?" ellie spooned more of the funnel cake in her mouth, looking up at you, awaiting your response.

"not sure, why don't you choose? i picked the last one after all," you clean your spoon off, getting every last bit of leftover ice cream.

"we can ride theeee..." ellie scours the carnival rides, "...the haunted hospital."

your heart fell to your stomach, you hated anything related to horror.

"oh no..ellie, i don't think i'll be able to ride that—"

"are you scared?" she taunts in a playful tone.

"yes. i'd be covering my eyes the entire time, el."

"good thing you have me with you, i'll fight anyone who gets too close to you. promise."

"fine."

when you both finish the funnel cake, you quickly discard it and ellie rushes you over to the line to the haunted attraction, but as the line goes by quicker than you anticipated, the fear began to set in deeper and deeper.

"ellie, i'm scared," you whisper as you both approach the front of the line, watching the people in front of you climb into the little mechanical car and disappear into the darkness.

"hey, i'm here, baby," she coos, rubbing your back, "besides, it's all fake, okay? 's not real."

and on cue, the attendant calls you both up, "next!"

walking slowly towards the black cart, you get on first and take a seat, with ellie following closely behind you.

"alright, hands up," the attendant commands as the handlebars latch down and lock onto your lap, "keep your hands and feet in the cart at all times. have fun."

as the cart begins to move forward and ascend into blackness, you curl into ellie's body and her arm instinctively wraps around your body, holding you tight.

this is exactly where ellie wanted you, up close and personal. she wanted an excuse to hold you all night, and after seeing the 'haunted hospital' sign, she knew this ride was the perfect place to do that.

your heart was pumping in and out of your chest, preparing for the worse to pop out and jump-scare you.

"ugh, i can't look," you stammer, covering your eyes. ellie takes hold of your wrists, gently taking them away from your face.

"hey, just focus on me, okay?" ellie whispers, her hot breath fanning in your face, "it's just me and you."

"o-okay."

and the fear that took habitat in your belly faded away, your mind zeroed in on ellie and how close she was to you. if you even breathed too hard, you probably would’ve accidentally kissed her.

but luckily for you, ellie was five steps ahead.

she reached her hand out to cup your cheek, resting it on the soft, warm skin of your face.

"can i kiss you?" ellie asked, her mouth taking over her brain, but she didn't mind it. she wanted to kiss you. she's been wanting to kiss you ever since she heard your voice that night she accidentally called you.

“please. please, kiss me.”

leaning in, ellie pressed her lips on yours, her other hand snaking around your waist, pulling you in closer. her lips were soft and inviting, and they tasted sweet — they were definitely a good distraction from the horror props popping out at different intervals.

her lips leave subtle pecks along your lips, enamored by how your lips tasted, and how it left her wanting more.

ellie pulls away, inciting a small whimper from you, “the ride’s about to end, babe.”

“hmph, okay,” you pout and ellie pecks your lips again.

“we’ll have plenty of time to continue later,” she reassures you with a laugh. as the both of you emerge into the light, back to the entrance of the attraction, you notice your lipgloss smeared all over her lips, eliciting a small giggle from you.

“what’s so funny?”

you point to her lips, and her eyes dart down to her face, using her sleeves to wipe off the pink gloss from her mouth as you both get off the ride.

you smile sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you both stroll around the carnival, “sorry, that was my fault.”

ellie smiles and shakes her head, “don’t worry ‘bout it,” she says coolly, “hey, let’s go over there. there’s no line.”

pointing to an attraction behind you, you turn around and follow her trail, your eyes settling on the ferris wheel.

hand in hand, you both get on the little capsule of the ferris wheel, the employee holding it sturdy so you and ellie would have time to climb in.

they latched the door closed and you both begin the slow, upward descent.

“wow, the view is beautiful,” you breathe out, astounded by how pretty the lights looked in the city as you towered over the area below.

“yeah, the view certainly is beautiful, huh?” ellie murmured, but she wasn’t staring at the view. her eyes were on you, taking in how breathtaking you looked in this moment — eyes glimmering in amusement, perfect, plump lips slightly parted, and hair a bit messy from the breeze, but framing your face in all the right places. she took her phone out, snapping a quick picture, never wanting to forget this moment.

she moved seats, before, sitting on the bench facing you, and now sitting right beside you.

“uh, there’s something i have to tell you,” ellie began, her nerves shocking every cell in her body.

“yea? what is it?” you ask, turning to face her, “is everything okay?”

“yeah, yeah, i just—” ellie bit her lip nervously, “i just really like you. like, i think about you all the time. when i first heard your voice that night i dialed you, i just knew i had to talk to you again. there’s just something about you that always brings me back and— fuck, i never thought i’d find myself catching feelings so hard for a girl before.”

your cheeks were hurting from how wide your smile was, but you didn’t care. ellie put her arm around your shoulder and held your hand with her free one, leaning in closer.

“what i’m trying to say is that— i really, really want to be with you. i want to be the one who you tell the weird stories about your clients to and i want to be the one to take care of you after a long day at class. i want to be the one who protects you and who you share your favorite meal with. i just— i really want you to be my girlfriend,” and before ellie continues any further, you cut her off with a kiss.

“if this is your way of asking me to be your girlfriend, the answer is yes, ellie williams,” you answer, briefly pulling away for air.

ellie’s smile grows wider, “cool,” she quirks before connecting your lips again.

the sun was long gone and the moon had taken over the night sky. but your date with ellie was far from over.

after spending an evening filled with thrill rides and greasy, fried snacks, you and ellie both decided to calm things down by taking a walk along the boardwalk, occasionally strolling up and down the pier.

“would you say this has been a good date so far?” ellie’s eyes flitter toward you, her arm slung over your shoulder as you stride down the various closed stores and restaurants of the boardwalk. it was empty, only one or two people passing by, but other than that it was only you two.

“mmm, i’d give it a…six out of ten,” you tease, gaining a scoff from your new girlfriend.

“a six? seriously?” she shakes her head, “damn, not the response i was hoping for.”

“i’m just kidding, els,” you giggle, “this date has been amazing. i loved every bit of it. thank you.”

you lean over and press a small kiss on her cheek, watching how the vermilion scatters across her freckles.

“now that’s more like it.” ellie laughs, continuing the promenade forward, with no destination in mind.

your eyes settle on this small, old-fashioned photo booth tucked away in a corner of the boardwalk. the sign above it flashing ‘PHOTOS: 4 different poses’. it was the perfect idea to end the night and have a little souvenir to remember your first date.

you let go of her hand, dashing towards the photo booth, ellie confusedly following after you. you open your bag, searching for some change, and you insert four quarters into the small coin slot.

“let's go inside,” you enthuse, excited to try out the photo booth.

ellie went inside first, taking a seat on the extremely small bench, barely leaving any space for you to sit beside her. the booth was such a tight enclosure, only allowing enough space for a maximum of two people.

“i— uh— don’t know where to—” you stammer, but she interrupts you as she grabs your hips, sitting you down on her right thigh.

warmth rose to your face, feeling secure and sturdy sat upon her leg. ellie closed the black curtain, covering the entrance and blocking any light that would shine through.

“okay, we have three minutes and four poses,” you say, turning your neck to look down at her, “what should our poses be?”

“i dunno, i’m sure we’ll look great doing any. we can jus’ do them as we go along,” ellie shrugged, and the photo booth began to count down from five.

sitting up straight in her lap and fixing your hair, you and ellie put on a smile, and the light flashes white, signaling the end of the first pose.

for the second pose, you turn your head and plant your lips on ellie’s cheek as ellie scrunches her nose up, and the flash lights up for a second time.

for the third pose, you loop your arm over ellie’s shoulder, and you both look each other in with adoring eyes and loving smiles — flash.

you both couldn’t even bother getting ready for the final pose, too lost in each other’s admiring gazes to think properly. you were focused on the jade green of ellie’s eyes, wishing you could jump in and swim in the pools of emerald. ellie was hooked on your face, and memorizing every detail like her life depended on it — tracing her eyes over your pouty lips.

and as the countdown went to one, ellie smashed her lips onto yours, her arms tightening around your waist to pull you closer. this kiss was different from the ones from before — there was urgency, there was eagerness, there was a burning passion, one you’ve never experienced before.

her tongue shoves into your mouth, tasting the mint you’ve chewed previously. immodest and perhaps, pornographic wet sounds from your mouths resonate throughout the small photobooth. one of her hands trail from your hips towards your tits, groping the soft, pillowy flesh underneath your baby blue dress, eliciting the faintest of whimpers — a sound ellie has been dying to hear again.

you couldn’t help the arousal building up in your core, compelling you to grind your crotch against the denim fabric of her jeans.

“e-ellie, i— i’ve never—” you struggle to let out, pulling away from her lips, a trail of spit lingering on your bottom lip, and her lips plant sloppy, wet kisses along the side of your neck.

“we can stop if you want, sweet girl,” she murmurs against your skin, and you quickly shake your head.

“n-no, don’t stop, p-please,” you gulp and with your approval, ellie’s other hand goes down to hike your dress up, bunching the fabric up around your waist. her hands push your legs apart, and she lifts one of your thighs up to rest on the wall of the photo booth. you were exposed, the only thing concealing your bare, pussy was the thin fabric of your panties.

she sat back against the corner of the booth, leaning against the wall and allowing you space to lean against her body as well. her hand cupped your panty-covered crotch, rubbing against it.

the sudden friction made you jolt, your breath picking up, “b-but what if— what if someone hears us? or—or sees us?”

“then you better keep it down, pup.”

ellie’s hand slips inside your panties, her index finger sliding between the warmth of your folds, drowning in the wet, hot juices leaking out from you, “fuck.”

you let out a pitiful whine, needing more pressure, craving satisfaction. the nights after that call with ellie, your own fingers no longer sufficed the needs your body demanded. you tried so hard to replicate the same feeling ellie gave you that late evening, but there was no avail as you realized the only person who can truly serve your body correctly was ellie.

“p-please, more,” you begged, hoping she would show you mercy and give you what you wanted.

“please, what? huh? use your fuckin’ manners,” she snides in your ear, breath fanning against your neck. you immediately knew what she was inferring.

“please, daddy, please. i want more,” you bucked your hips up to her hands, and she happily obliged. two of ellie’s fingers made their way to your throbbing and swollen clit, applying pressure as her digits created circles.

you couldn’t suppress the moan that emerged from your throat, clamping a hand shut over your mouth, careful not to alert any strangers nearby, knowing people would still be able to hear despite the thin, black curtain covering the photo booth.

“you look s’ fuckin’ pretty,” ellie whispers against your neck, and her hand grabs your jaw, turning your head to look at her as she smushes her lips against your swollen, red lips.

a stream of melodious moans vibrated against ellie’s mouth, and she was drinking it in, savoring the sound of you against her lips. the way ellie’s tongue fucked your mouth felt ungodly, and almost immoral. someone who harbors the power to make you feel how you do is something close to the devil, as pleasure this wonderful was sinful.

her fingers disappear from your clit, leaving you feeling empty.

“open.” ellie orders and you part your lips. she pushes her fingers in your mouth, and you suck them clean, your tongue lapping the salty juices like a puppy desperate for water on a hot day.

“such a good fuckin’ girl, shiiit,” ellie praises, slipping her fingers in your pussy, continuing the circles on your hardened clit.

“you know what good girls like you get? huh?” ellie’s fingers pick up speed, “they get to cum. you wanna cum for daddy, baby?”

unable to think of any response, you nod your head up and down.

“use your words, pup.”

“yes, daddy. puppy wants to cum,” you whine out. that was enough for ellie to give you what you wanted. one hand rubbing circles your clit, her other hand pushes your panties to the side and inserts one finger in your leaking hole, gently sliding it in and out.

“ellie!” you cry out, astounded by the added pressure. her finger was long and filled you up almost, completely.

“gotta stretch you out, baby. get you ready for my cock,” ellie smirks as she slowly adds in another finger, still maintaining her slow, neutral pace.

your pussy clenches around her fingers, and you scrambled around to grab ahold of anything you can get your hands on. you were drunk on ellie, the way she talks to you — almost condescending — combined with how she had you writhing under her fingers. you were unequivocally hers. you were ellie’s.

she added a third finger to your clit, applying more pressure on your sensitive clit, and her fingers began to pump faster inside your pussy, coating it in a thick, creamy layer of your juices.

“god, you’re such a pretty fuckin’ girl,” ellie kisses the side of your neck, “look at you, making a mess all over my hands, like a filthy pup.”

all your mouth would utter was these weak, pathetic whimpers and moans, fucked out dumb and stupid. you don’t even think you could remember your name right now.

the familiar feeling of your orgasm coming undone begins to rise, accompanied by a new pressure you feel in your abdomen — the urge to push.

“daddy, think m’ gonna— p—pee,” you stammer, not wanting to embarrass yourself and closing your legs, “it feels like i have to—”

“baby, let it happen. promise it’s not piss or anything,” ellie reassured, figuring this was your first time squirting. “just let go, sweet girl.”

the sweet sounds of your wet pussy echoed throughout the confined spaces of the booth, just how ellie liked it. it was music to her ears.

the feeling of your walls tightening around her fingers told her that you were just right on the edge, and she was going to give you that push to fall over and come undone all over her hands.

the pad of ellie’s fingers massaged figure eights on your pussy, almost tracing infinity signs on your clit. her fingers found rhythm and continued thrusting her index and middle fingers inside you, curling up to rub the flesh of your walls, hitting just the right spot and emitting an angelic moan from you.

ellie was in heaven and she had this honey-sweet angel melting under her touch.

you squirmed in her lap, your back instinctively arching, about to come apart in this small photo booth.

“daddy, i’m about to— can i? can i cum? pretty please?” you cried out, almost pleading, like you were begging for your life, but you felt like you were going to simply die if you didn’t finish right now.

“yes, pretty baby, cum all over me,” ellie coaxes you through your orgasm, “make a fuckin’ mess, puppy.”

you came undone, falling apart right there. your pussy clamped around her fingers, a stream of milky-white cream trickling onto her hands. your body overcame your thoughts, and you pushed out — releasing a gush of watery, squirt all over the place. spurting out, imitating a fountain.

ellie pulled her hands out of you, and brought them to her mouth, sucking and licking them clean. still coming down from the high that was your orgasm, your breaths came out heavy and unlabored, a tear falling down out of the corner of your eye and streaming down your cheek.

“you alright, babe?” ellie asked, fixing your panties and pulling your dress down.

“y-yea, i’m okay,” you stutter, standing up and exiting the photo booth, finding the boardwalk still deserted. legs still shaking, you trip over your own feet and lean on the walls of the booth for support. ellie took hold of your waist, ensuring you don’t fall.

“hey, look, our picture,” she points out, taking the strip out from the slot and showing the black and white photo to you.

ellie smiles at the strip, “we look good, huh?”

you nod, still simmering down. ellie takes notice of your state and plants a kiss to your lips, rubbing your waist soothingly.

“how ‘bout we get outta here and get some real food? sound good, baby?”

you nod, smiling, “sounds perfect.”

🫶🏼

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams tlou #the last of us #the last of us ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst

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unsuredreamer · 4 months ago

Text

Getaway car

Red Hearts ❤️ x fem! reader

These two pics 🙌🏻

Like yeah ma'am I'm on my knees. Respectfully

Here's a Red fic for you my lovesss

"Oh c'mon Red! Don't be staring at her with your lover eyes, go and introduce yourelf" Chloe wiggled her eyebrows knowingly at her friend, who was painfully staring holes at the back of a head of a certain someone.

"Fuck you dumb or something?! Not a chance thats happening" The red haired girl glared at the other princess, stabbing her food with her fork, eating peas was not something she particularly enjoyed. Back in Wonderland she would be having something extravagant, different, weird she would even say. But here, just peas and potatoes everyday, not that she would complain, just, she'd love to change up some flavors from time to time.

"Wellll, I'll do it then! I'm sure she's heard about you coming to Auradon. She was the one who requested for villain kids to be studying here, after all!" Before Red could complain further more, her fast friend quickly took off from their table, coming straight at yours. Her blue locks blowing from her speed, she was eager to do what the other had failed so miserably many times.

But could you blame her? She was not shy, certainly not. She did not lack of anything. Talking skills, charisma and her attitude still on board as it has been since she left her home kingdom to come and study at Auradon. But, there was something intimidating in you at the same time drawing her further in the spiraling maze of thoughts and mysteries you could be hiding from her.

She never spoke to you, obviously, you were too popular for her to even approach you, she swore she'd never get involved with people like that. Always with someone, always on the run to be somewhere, to be doing literally anything besides resting. That's also what fascinated her about you, she wanted to know what a princess like you could be doing every second of the day. Making haste to do her duties? Running off to be somewhere calm? To be finally left alone? She wanted to know your every thought and opinion.

It scared her. She had never felt that way about anyone and it was weird to discover feeling like that, although she found it rather amusing to be thinking so much of you. You were not special.

She just liked watching you play your favorite sport on your tournament's. Oh how your eyes lit up when you got a set point, running straight at your teammates cackling them on the ground. And when you took off your shirt after winning every game, yelling profanities of happiness, the way the sweat rolled down your body and how your hair curled from wetness being held in a ponytail with a singular small braid. She was in awe, although she had never let it show.

She liked to observe you when you strutted down the school halls with your best friend, your books tightly grasped in your hands, close to your chest. You were usually clothed in a light blue checkered skirt that made your ass very hard to not look at, also complimenting your big thighs, not that she would look at of course (such a bullshit, she was staring hard) a white loose button-up shirt so simply hanging off your shoulders making your collarbone pop out so finely that even the mightiest of gods would not be ashamed to check you out, and of course some gold accessories to top it all. The most prominent being your bulk gold ring and a heart necklace, gifted to you by Evie Grimhilde.

Her daydreams were cut short by her very blue friend shaking her shoulders.

"Red, are you with us? Oh great!" Chloe grinned as she got her boo to finally listen. "As I've been saying, this is Y/n!"

"Hi, I heard from Charming here that you've been staring at me quite often" You giggled, she was looking rather cute, just sittings there with her clouded stare as she hummed in agreement. Probably not realizing what she did there. "Id love to meet you actually, get to know you a bit maybe a lot. Whatever you're most comfortable with, hearts" you smiled at her as she blushed at the nickname. She liked it when you smiled, it made her smile internally too. "You up for a ride to the enchanted lake later?"

You never really put your mind to get to know her, even though you wanted to meet the new kid, you always thought she might want to acclimatize first. That doesn't necessarily mean you never looked at her, she was really hard to miss, a storm of red locks everywhere you turned. Smudging somethings in her sketchbook or spraying the walls with her black paint. You should probably be informing someone of the vandalism she has committed herself to. But she looked so happy doing so, and you were so immersed in exploring the smallest details of every single one as soon as she left, that you could not. You wanted to appreciate her art.

You wanted to appreciate her.

As you were in the middle of the staring contest with a girl you dreamt of so many times (strange dreams including someone scarily close in beauty to hers that left you amazed after every night) the son of Aurora came and slipped his arms around your waist.

"Hey baby" you kind of grimaced as he kissed you on your cheek "Are you up to a quick run later?"

"Well I kind of got some plans already Aron" you wiggled out of his grasp. "I'm meeting princess Red later" you grinned at the red haired girl

"Her? but why?" he looked at her with a bit of disgust. As we know his family haven't really got a great history with villains. "My grandma says-

"Well, I don't really care what your grammy has to say. I'd like to make a new friend and I've heard Red would like to know me too" You remarked stopping him from saying some cruel shit about Red's family, stepping away from him too.

"Ooh" Was all Red could let out of herself. Were you really with that douchebag? He was nothing like his sister who actually became really close to a certain pirate after a sad encounter. Matter of fact, he despised vk's for simply breathing the same air as him. It was weird for her that someone like you would be with someone like him.

Later in the day you fastened your pace to Red and Chloe's dorm room, you anticipated your meeting with the girl the whole day. It was dragging, especially on your 'history of magic' lessons where the princess of Wonderland, sat 3 tables away from you, looking as pretty as the garden's of babylon, like she was touched by Midas, turning gold with every second, but keeping her rose colored cheeks as tinted as always. Merely breathing as she fell sound asleep, you could not help yourself to snicker under your breath as you took a few photos of her.

You found yourself smiling at the memory, she was cute, she could deny it as much as she want but her bitch face only makes a bad first impression. If you look at her for more than half a minute you would notice how her features soften within time as she melts into her own world, gets lost in her own thoughts. The way her brows furrow when she doesn't understand something. How her once red hair slowly loose their color becoming more and more pink, so she dyes them unevenly leaving some pink strands along the way, making her look so incredibly beautiful. How her long nails tap the same rythym on the table over and over, as she scribbles sharp lines in her sketchbook. Sitting criss-cross under this big tree on the edge of the forest.

You'd love to know her from the inside, as much as you know her from the outside.

In a millisecond of your knock you already see the door opening loudly and a cheerful Chloe standing in the frame.

"Oh my you look so good, you beast!" That made you cringe a little, Chloe had a weird way of placing words together, but nonetheless you loved the little bluey charming. She was like a little sister to you, even though you were just a little bit older than her.

"Hi my lovely! Is Red ready?" Doesn't that seem a bit like you were asking if she was ready for a date? "I-I, was just checking, I came to take her out, I mean, to the lake" Oh craps, you're stuttering, is it bad? It's bad. Fuck now you're panicking, great!

"Chill Y/n, I can almost hear your thoughts" princess charming giggled as you blushed deep shade of red, Red. "She's ready" She moved closer to you putting her hand to her mouth "Been ready since 5" She laughed as the Wonderlandian appeared at the door, yanking her by her collar.

"Thank you Chloe, we're gonna go now" She shut the door at the other girls face, hearing a loud 'Have fun lovebirds!' from behind them "I'm sorry for her. She can be annoying sometimes"

"No worries Red, I know, I've been friends with her since babies" You giggled as the princesses face lit up from the embarrassment, she totally forgot she's the new one in the kingdom.

"So you have a boyfriend?"

"Wow, straight forward i see" You smiled once again as you put your helmet on, doing the exact same with the Wonderlandian. She avoided your gaze looking like a pro. "You know you can look at me, hearts" you flicked her nose and she scrunched it in annoyance.

"So you don't?" She pushed you away, you grinned as you sat on your motorcycle

"Get on princess, I'm gonna take you places you've never been before" She was stunned, frozen in place looking at your extremely hot body leaning over, waiting for her to sit behind you. The phrase coming out of your mouth not helping the growing burning hot feeling inside her. She wanted to touch you.

Wanted it so badly. Was it mad? Probably.

As she sat on the motorcycle you guided her hands to grasp your waist.

"Try not to fall off, babe" Fuck. She was done for.

On the other side, you could not help the tingling feeling her touch left on you, it made your blood boiling, and every vein in your body want to pop out. Your strong grip on the vehicle only tightened when hers tightened on you. You took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as your heart beat rapidly on your chest.

What is she doing with you? You're going mad for her.

Mad.

The ride was slightly more calm, Red explored every single detail of the forest you were so fastly going through, and your eyes remained on the road only cursing yourself as you felt her head gently laying on your back.

"So tell me more about yourself Red" You insisted, as you took a stroll through the bridge leading to the enchanted spot. She swung her hands trying to balance herself.

"Well, I'm from Wonderland, my mom is the famous Queen of hearts. Our kingdom is stric-"

"About yourself silly" You stopped her grabbing ber shoulders from behind. "I want to hear about you, Red" Her name coming out of your mouth sounded different. It was not the harsh tone her mother used to yell her name out with. But it was also not the overly sweet almost apologetic-like tone everyone around her used, when she first come from Wonderland.

It was genuine, soft, like you'd truly want to say her name till the rest of your days.

This sentence took you on a roll of quietly listening to her stories from her childhood, her favorite things, foods, hobbies, and many diffrent informations you would love to know about her. You loved when someone began rambling to you let alone when it was someone you took a particular interest in. She looked so dazzling, stuffing her mouth with ice cream and mini cakes in between telling you how the cheshire cat scared her once so bad she began crying. And he just appeared before her while she was painting roses.

"Do you want to take a swim?" You blurted out, the sun was slowly setting painting the sky the beautiful shade of orange, pink and lavender.

"I kind of don't know how to swim Y/n" she blushed looking away, like it would be the worst of crime.

"It's okay Red, I'm not pressuring you to, but I'll happily give you lessons right here right now" You stripped down to your underwear getting in the water.

Red's eyes wandered all over your body until desire took over her, she wanted you to touch her even if she had to drown for it to happen. But you wouldn't let her would you? She hoped so as she swiftly got up and stripped down her own clothes.

Your mouth agape when you gazed at her.

"Dang, you're hot" You smirked moving your hands in the water, swimming deeper in. She began to get in, but slowly backed out "It's okay love, come, I'll take your hand" you reached out for her. And she tightly grasped it but it didn't take long for her to panic when she couldn't feel the ground beneath her feet.

"No, no, no, no" You swiftly pulled her close to your body, swimming quickly somewhere less deeper then you already were.

"Red, Red. Calm down, wrap yourself around me" you whispered to her ear gently, what made her shiver even more than the water hitting her skin. She did as you requested, tangling her legs around your waist and her arms around your neck. Your warm breath fanning over her collarbone made her heart thump in her chest once again.

She couldn't help but look down in your eyes discovering that you were already looking up at her with yours. She pulled your head closer to her body leaning down. You glanced quickly at her lips not letting yourself loose the beautiful sight of her eyes.

Not stopping yourself you closed the distance between you two, letting your lips touch hers, grabbing her waist in the process, feeling her jump at your sudden bold move.

Her lips tasted like cherries but mixed with blood, you could not quite decipher how. You liked it. Liked it a lot. They were soft, and she kissed you so slowly and carefully feeling like she would scare you away if she was to move any further. Grasping your wet hair in her hands she deepened the kiss after a second. Feeling more comfortable in it now as she felt your hands roam her body.

Kissing her was like a sentence to death, there was something thrilling toit. It was not sweet, sickening and bubble gum to anyone's dismay. She kissed hard and strong, sticking her tongue in your mouth and biting your lips when she felt bold enough.

Your hands creeped down her body resting on her ass as she hummed in content, agreeing on every antic you were about to commit to.

It was exciting, and you loved that feeling.

You finally felt free with her.

Swimming, although you could drown in her.

After you pulled away, with protest. Deep heavy breathing was all that could be heard, immersed in each other's touch. Occasional splashes of water in the background.

Were you moving too fast? Was it the right thing to do? You did not care.

She tasted so good. It was so wrong, but it felt so good to have her all to yourself.

The few breaths you managed to take were cut short when she crushed your lips together once again, as if on cue, knowing exactly what you want.

You would not imagine yourself making out with the princess of Wonderland while swimming in the enchanted lake. But that's what you needed. That was what your heart begged for at the moment,

Your moment of peace.

She was your peace

It felt right. It felt as if you were bound by an invisible string. Meant to be by each other at the exact moment of your lives.

She was your escape

Your getaway car

#descendants #descendants rise of red #descendants 4 #descendants rise of red x reader #descendants x reader #descendants 4 x reader #red of wonderland #redcharming #red x fem reader #red hearts #red x reader #red #bridget hearts #chloe charming #fiction

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rip-quizilla · 1 year ago

Text

Eat Me

Pairing: Older!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Popstar!Reader

Summary: (TLDR: you perform with Corroded Coffin, act like a brat the whole time, and Eddie makes you pay for it.) Two years after your hiatus from the music industry, you're back and all grown up now. After collaborating with early 2000's metal sensation Corroded Coffin for several songs off your new album, you debut the new tracks live in a surprise performance with the band during their tour- and the tension between you and frontman Eddie Munson is so thick, you're barely able to keep your pants on throughout the set. (Songs referenced are by Demi Lovato from her album HOLY FVCK, which inspired this fic. I highly suggest listening to the songs "Eat Me" and "Freak" while they're performed in the story for the complete experience!)

Word Count: 14K

Tags: 🔥SMUT, age gap (reader is 27, Eddie is 47), Reader is a brat (Eddie can handle it), fingering, squirting, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap up!!), light degradation, reader has blue hair, reader is a grown-up child star, for the purposes of this fic Corroded Coffin started in the 90s instead of 80s for timeline reasons

🖤🖤🖤

You had no fucking clue what you were doing.

It had been two years since you’d put out music. Two. Years. That’s enough time for a person’s relevance to crawl into a hole and die, which is something you had been strongly considering doing for the duration of those two years.

It was a tale as old as time- child star grows up. Child star is not a child anymore, but the world only wants the star to be a child, so if the star wants to keep being a star, they do not. grow. up.

But you grew up, and guess what happened?

The world hated you for it.

So you stopped trying to be a star. You’d dropped off the face of the earth and deleted every social media app from your phone. You’d bought a house in the mountains, and thanks to modern technologies like Amazon and DoorDash, you basically never had to leave. It was a little scary how easily you had become a hermit living in a cabin in the woods. Your life quickly became a never ending cycle of reading, binge-watching tv, and dying/cutting your hair whenever the mood struck (The latest spontaneous color change had left you with a surprisingly pretty shade of faded blue).

It was easy, running away… until it caught up with you.

After all, at your core you had always been a performer. From your first audition at five years old to your big break at twelve, to the first album you’d put out on your television network’s record label- you had always been a person who had something to say and craved an audience to hear it. When your audience had turned on you, it had jolted your rhythm enough that you forgot the words to a song you’d been singing as long as you could remember.

It had taken you a couple years, but eventually you figured out that when you play the same song on repeat for long enough, it gets old.

So you wrote a new song.

To be more precise, you wrote a whole album. Literally.

Some of the songs were composed, some still needed a tune, but the message of the album was clear: I’m not that little girl on your TV screen anymore. You don’t have to like it, but you sure as hell can’t change it.

The minute you’d figured that out, you’d called your team. Once they understood the direction your career was headed, they helped get everything in order for your re-entry into the fray that had driven you out in the first place.

There was only one part of the album that made you nervous.

I know two years doesn’t seem like that long, your agent had said, but the public eye doesn’t have a very impressive attention span. You only have half of the album composed, right? This is the perfect opportunity to make the other half of the songs collaborations with artists that are in the public eye!

The idea made sense. Their popularity helps you, and if the songs go over well, then it helps the other artists too. The only issue was that these songs were way more vulnerable than what you used to write… hell, half the songs you’d recorded before your hiatus were written by whatever run of the mill joe schmo had gotten the kid-friendly execs’ stamp of approval. Even when you’d split from the network after turning twenty-three, you’d kept your songs strictly PG-rated since you knew the majority of your audience were minors. These new songs, though…

You weren’t an idiot. The themes of these songs were not subtle. Anyone who listened to these new songs was going to see a side of you that wasn’t all that pretty. Were you ready for that? Were you ready to bare that darkness to not only the world, but to other artists who meant to help you make music out of it?

Your anxiety about the album had gotten even worse when your agent had given you the list of potential collaborators.

One song that you were particularly proud of called “Eat Me” had some very metal undertones to it, so you’d told your agent that you’d like to collaborate with a metal band or artist to compose the music that would match the lyrics. Almost immediately, your agent had suggested a collaboration with Corroded Coffin.

The band had been HUGE when you were a kid, topping charts throughout your childhood and making a name for themselves as one of the most culturally relevant turn-of-the-century metal bands. Even now, they were a household name. Your older brother had been a huge fan, so you’d actually listened to their music quite a lot growing up. They weren’t some random collaboration- if Corroded Coffin read your lyrics (which were basically your soul laid out on display) and thought they were shit? It might just send you spiraling right back to your cabin in the mountains.

You had been equal parts thrilled and terrified when your agent told you they’d agreed to collaborate on the song.

Currently, you were sitting in your home-away-from-home, a cozy apartment that you rented on a month-to-month basis whenever you needed to be in New York, which just so happened to be where Eddie Munson, lead singer/guitarist of Corroded Coffin had asked to meet with you. It was your album, so you had invited him to come to your place and discuss his ideas for the song. You shifted nervously on your couch and glanced at the time on your phone. He was ten minutes late- that shouldn’t bother you, a lot of musicians had a habit of running late. Just because you didn’t subscribe to that stereotype didn’t mean you had to judge him for doing the opposite.

When you finally heard the buzz of your doorbell, you practically hopped off the couch. You peeped through the little door viewer to catch a glimpse before you had to look one of your childhood heroes in the eye. You… you hadn’t been adequately prepared to see this.

Eddie Munson had been attractive in his hay day- you could admit that. You’d seen the pictures of him on their album covers, the press photos, the magazines… he had always been cute in a scruffy sort of way. You hadn’t bothered Googling what he looked like now, which you were currently regretting since you had not been adequately prepared for the father of all DILFs to be standing on your doorstep.

After doing some quick math, you came to the conclusion that Eddie Munson must be in his mid to late forties at this point. His hair was still long and curly and thick as hell, but you noticed other details that you distinctly remembered were not present on the album covers you remember from your brother’s CD collection- dark, whiskery shadow along his cheeks and jawline. Tattoos creeping up from the collar of the crew neck shirt he wore, as well as every inch of his arms. A nose ring. Smile lines. Soft creases forming between thick brown eyebrows.

Eyebrows drawing together in confusion because you weren’t opening the door.

Shit. You inhaled sharply and hastily made to open the door. Breathe, you instructed yourself, taking a moment to blow out a semi-relaxing breath before turning the doorknob and plastering on your best entertainment industry smile.

“Hi!” you said, a little too peppy- you knew you sounded too peppy because the rockstar in front of you actually flinched when your high-pitched sorority girl voice slapped him in the face. “Sorry, I think I’m a little caffeine-riddled, I just finished my third cup of coffee.” You said apologetically, swinging the door open wider for him to step through the threshold into your apartment.

“Too many frappuccinos there, huh popstar?” His voice… if it hadn’t been so condescending, you might have melted on the spot. Your pride, however, had to argue with your clenching thighs.

“Uhm, no-” you laughed, keeping your voice airy as you shut the door and leaned back on it to ensure it was closed. “-just cold brew, rockstar.” You couldn’t help but add that quip at the end, seeing how he had just called you popstar like it was the same as calling someone a pussy or a wimp. What was his deal?

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest, and then turned back as if you hadn’t said anything at all. He simply sauntered through the hallway to your living room, where you had laid all the necessary materials for your composing process across the coffee table- but he wasn’t looking at that. He seemed to be inspecting your walls, the decor, the old pictures that sat in frames on your floating shelves, the records you had displayed above your turntable. His eyes surveyed everything like he was a judge at a fucking science fair, and your heart was starting to race as you started to irrationally wonder if you fell short of his expectations or something.

“Ahem,” you cleared your throat to get his attention.

He turned to face you, irritation flashing across his expression like a cloud blowing past the sun. You took a breath. Calm down, you chided yourself mentally, he’s probably just a prick, don’t take it personally. Be professional.

“Can I get you something to drink?” You chirped politely, to which he smirked and shook his head.

“Don’t trouble yourself, sweetheart.”

You bristled; sweetheart? Who did he think he was, Don Draper? Was this the 1950’s? Were you his fucking secretary? Your blood pressure rose by the second.

“Hm.” you respond, chewing your lip to keep a snarky response to yourself. “Well, we can go ahead and get started if you want.” You gestured to the pages strewn across the coffee table. Notebook pages with your lyrics written out in black pen, empty pages of sheet music that you planned to fill out with a melody to coincide with your words as the morning went on. Your acoustic guitar sat securely in its stand beside the couch, eagerly awaiting your hands to make the message in your music come alive.

Munson sunk into the cushions of your leather couch, manspreading enough to make you feel like a guest in your own apartment. His forearms rested on the thighs of his ripped charcoal jeans as he surveyed the pages before him. He grabbed the notebook page full of lyrics first, chuckling when he saw the title.

“Eat Me, huh?” he raised an eyebrow at you, and the way he was holding the page between the two of you left only the top half of his face visible from where you sat. You noted that Eddie Munson had extremely expressive eyes. “That’s a pretty evocative title for such a squeaky-clean ‘lil diva.”

Your brow furrowed. “That’s kind of the point.” Using your pointer finger to pull the page down, the bottom half of the rockstar’s face coming into view and spiking your blood pressure again when you saw that fucking smirk still on his face.

That’s it. This guy is an ass.

“Maybe my agent didn’t accurately portray my vision for this album,” you said, struggling to grit out the words without coming across angry. “If that’s the case, I’m very sorry we got our wires crossed.”

Ready to listen, Munson leaned back into your couch and crossed one booted foot over his knee, an arm thrown across the top of your couch cushions. The picture of nonchalance.

Cocky bastard.

“I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I haven’t put any music out in over two years.” you began. “This isn’t just a new album for me- it's more like a debut album for the new direction I want to take my career in. Up until now, I’ve been portraying a very different side of myself that…if I’m being honest, it wasn’t really me. It was childish and immature and I…”

You huffed out a heavy, frustrated sigh. “-I can’t do it anymore, I can’t keep being a kid, I’m twenty-fucking-seven years old, for god’s sake.” the rockstar’s eyebrows jumped up at hearing your expletive, obviously amused.

What the fuck? Here you were, being vulnerable with a complete stranger, and he thought it was amusing? You half expected him to laugh, but you brushed past it and decided to ignore this asshole being even more of an asshole.

“What I’m trying to say is this is a very personal album for me. It’s very different from what I’ve been putting out, and that is very much the point. Does that make sense?”

You watched as he slowly nodded his head, mulling over your words. “So…it’s like a coming of age thing?” he ventured, “Like, ‘little girl’s all grown up and sexy now’ all that?” his mouth turned up at one corner. “How very Miley Cyrus of you, sweetheart.”

You scoffed, physically recoiling a bit. “Are you being serious right now?” you balked.

He shrugged.

Oh, you fumed, that is it. Fuck this guy.

You stood from the couch, finally snapping after holding yourself back from giving this asshat a piece of your mind. “What is your problem?” Munson’s smirk faded a bit, but his smug air remained intact as he stared up at you.

“Look sweetheart-”

“No.” you cut him off, stopping him with a hand in the air. “Stop calling me sweetheart like you know me or like that isn’t a condescending fucking way to speak to someone. You have done nothing but talk down to me since you walked through that door, so no, you do not get to talk to me like that, I don’t care how famous you are.”

There wasn’t a trace of a smile on his face now, and you took pride in that. Maybe there was a conscience in there somewhere that was telling him I told you so right now.

You took the page from his hands and held it up for emphasis. “If you had just read my fucking song before making assumptions, then maybe you would have understood that this song is actually a social commentary on people like you who assume the direct trajectory of a child star’s career is to go from cute and childish to sexy ‘girls gone wild’ or whatever the fuck.” you spat, practically shaking the paper in your hand. “I’m allowed to grow into whoever I damn well please, and that’s exactly what this song is about. If I want to write a song about sex- and I’ve written a few, they’re on the fucking album- I’ll write them because that’s what I want to write! I’m not doing it for shock value or because I like attention; hell, I’ve been a literal hermit in the woods for two years, I don’t give a fuck about attention!”

You finally paused to breathe, and you knew your eyes must look absolutely insane because the man before you genuinely looked terrified.

Steeling yourself, you inhaled and exhaled slowly, attempting to push down some of that hysteria. “Sorry.” you bit, “Didn’t mean to unload all that on you. It’s just… this song is a part of me, and you just belittled it without even reading past the title.” You looked him directly in those big brown eyes and thought- hoped- for a second that you saw understanding in his gaze. “That was shitty. I’m not letting other people make me feel like shit anymore.”

When you were finished, silence took over. It settled over the room like a reprieve from a short but heavy rainfall before the sun showed itself again. Suddenly, Eddie Munson stood from your couch and marched to your door, letting himself out with a sharp click of your doorknob latching closed.

Okay. That went well. The lead singer of one of the most famous metal bands just came to your apartment, got yelled at, and ran away. You were just starting to ponder how you would explain this one to your publicist before you heard a knock at your door. Tentatively, you opened it- you didn’t need to look through the peephole to know who it was.

Eddie Munson stood at your door wearing an expression that you hadn’t seen yet today- he looked open, compassionate, and sorry. One hand in his pocket with the other outstretched, tattoos winding up the expanse of skin, rings glinting light from the sconces on either side of your door. He was offering his hand.

Smiling slightly, you accepted his gesture. You grasped his ink-scarred hand, feeling the cold metal of his rings press against your skin as you shook it. “It’s lovely to meet you-” he said your name softly, and you realized that when he had entered your apartment earlier, you hadn’t even exchanged pleasantries. Hadn’t introduced yourselves, almost as if fame got rid of the need for normal human introductions. Now, here he was, remedying that.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Munson,” you said, voice less chipper than it had been when the two of you originally stood in these same spots. “I’m a huge fan.”

He winced at ‘Mr.’, clapping his other hand over yours tightly. “Please, for the love of god, don’t call me Mr. Munson.” his big brown eyes pleaded with you. “Call me Eddie.”

Your smile widened as you nodded. “Eddie.” you repeated. “Is this you telling me we’re starting over?”

He let go of your hand, and you felt a sudden chill as the warmth of his skin left yours. “If that’s alright with you?” he replied softly, turning up the end of his sentence like a question.

Instead of saying yes, you simply stepped back to make room for him in your hallway. With a pleasant grin on your lips, you gestured for him to step inside. “Let’s get started, then.”

After sitting down on the couch once more, Eddie took the sheet of notebook paper on which you’d scrawled a part of your soul written in verse and began to read intently. Leaving him to digest the song completely (also because you felt awkward sitting there in silence as he read your work) you left to grab two water bottles from the kitchen. When you returned, he had already grabbed a fresh sheet of notebook paper and begun jotting down notes.

You placed the bottles on coasters, bracing yourself for the criticism that you knew was coming-

“You were right.”

Huh?

You craned your neck to see what he had written on the notebook paper. “About what?”

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Eddie yanked the paper out of your line of sight. “About this song, it’s completely different from what I’d assumed you would write. Actually,” he grinned. “-it’s kinda fucking metal.”

You smiled, once again reaching for the page. “Then let me see what you wrote-”

“I’m not finished yet, keep your panties on.”

The two of you worked for hours that afternoon, Eddie suggesting lines and chords as you wrote corresponding notes and chords on your sheet music. It didn’t take long for you to grab the acoustic guitar and begin strumming out portions of the song until it was finished.

Both of you agreed it was something to be proud of.

“Hey, uh,” Eddie stuttered before exiting your apartment that evening, when you were both happy with the work you’d done for the day. “I hope you know how sorry I am for being such an ass when I got here earlier-”

You shrugged, any traces of anger melted away at this point. “Eh.” you smirked. “You made up for it. That song might be my favorite on the album now, honestly, I meant it when I said I was a fan of yours- wouldn’t have trusted it with anyone else.”

He smiled at you warmly. “I’m honored to have such a talented fan.” The door was open, but he wasn’t leaving yet. Instead, Eddie stood with his tattooed arms crossed over his chest leaning his weight to one shoulder against the doorway. “I mean it though, you’re a talented songwriter. If you want to collaborate on any other songs, just say the word and I’m back here.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”

He nodded, “Dead serious.”

Smiling excitedly, you ran to your notebook, flipping through the pages until you found what you were looking for. You looked up at Eddie, a knowing grin on your lips. “Remember those songs about sex I mentioned?”

***

The original plan for your album had been to collaborate with multiple artists for about fifty percent of your album, while the other fifty percent would only feature you. What ended up happening was slightly different.

The more songs Eddie saw, the more passionate he became about the message you were working to convey through your lyrics. He ended up reworking every single song with you in a completely collaborative process, where he never overstepped, never tried to take over- simply understood what you were trying to say and added the extra ‘oomph’ each song had been needing to truly become what you had envisioned.

“I feel like I really can’t just call this my album now, Eddie, you’ve contributed way more to this to just be credited as a featured artist-”

You’d first voiced concerns about how to credit Eddie in the album a few days into your songwriting spree. It became an easy routine, Eddie would come over first thing in the morning, and the two of you would sit in your living room working through your songs and ordering takeout until the sun set.

“Well it’s not a collaboration album with Corroded Coffin,” Eddie had replied, sticking a bite of noodles into his mouth. The two of you had been seated at your kitchen table, white boxes of Chinese food, napkins, and torn chopstick wrappers decorating the space between you. “Those fuckers haven’t even met you, they don’t get credit for anything they ain’t playing on.”

“But I’m talking about you.” you pushed, “If we keep going the way we’ve been, you’re going to be a vital part of the composition for every track on this album! I’m not going to let you avoid credit for that.” you gazed at him, unable to hide the admiration you’d begun to feel for the artist at your table. “Let me list you as a composer for every track you help me with. We already know you and your band will be featured on Eat Me and Freak, so obviously you’ll be credited for those…”

As you continued to ramble on about how Eddie would be credited for each and every song lyric he suggested, he got distracted looking at the way your hair glinted slightly different shades of blue in the sunlight that filtered in through your balcony window. His eyes followed the light along your skin, taking in the way it glistened off the dewey shine on your cheekbone, how it shone directly into the corner of your eye so that colors he had never noticed were brought to the surface of your irises…

This wasn’t the first time that Eddie had gotten distracted watching you rant about something you were passionate about. He knew he was supposed to be listening, that it was very important that he knew what your songs were about, that he understood the details of your plans for the album so that you wouldn’t have to repeat yourself later- but dammit, you were just so pretty. Really fucking pretty, it was hard for him not to get distracted. Initially, this whole collaboration had just been something that Eddie’s publicist had suggested for getting the newer generation listening to Corroded Coffin in time for their new album to drop at the end of the summerl, so when Eddie had first waltzed into your apartment he’d been expecting a kid; an innocent, teeny-bopper sort of persona. He hadn’t expected a loud, firecracker of a woman with hair the color of his old denim jacket.

Eddie wasn’t an idiot. He was well aware that he was old enough to be your father. You were what- twenty-seven? Twenty-eight? Definitely under thirty. And here he was, pushing forty-seven with a salt and pepper shadow on his jawline. The hair on his head hadn’t started graying yet (he dreaded the day that he would have to use *gulp* hair dye) but he knew it was only a matter of time. For him to be ogling you like this? It would probably make you uncomfortable if you knew how often his eyes forgot to look away when you left the room. What was that old saying? Hate to see you go, love to watch you leave-

“Eddie?”

Shit. He’d missed an entire conversation, hadn’t he?

He gave you his best apologetic smile, which didn’t work at all. You sighed, hanging your head low exasperatedly. “You didn’t hear a word of that did you?”

“Not a word, zoned out.”

You threw a fortune cookie at him.

***

You and Eddie didn’t see each other for a while after recording the album. Eddie was there with the rest of Corroded Coffin to record the two tracks that they were featured in for the album, but after that plus a few guitar parts Eddie had been kind enough to record for some other songs, the two of you hadn’t had a reason to see each other.

That was why you were so nervous for tonight.

After working all summer and the better part of the fall, the album was finally finished. Copies of CDs and special edition vinyl were already being shipped out to music stores across the country and set to hit shelves in a week, so tonight was the kickoff event for your publicity tour: you would be joining Corroded Coffin tonight onstage for a surprise performance of Eat Me and Freak. Tonight was October 31st, and premiering those songs on Halloween with the metal king that helped you make them the masterpieces they were? This was just one of those moments when the stars aligned poetically.

You looked yourself in the mirror, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves before heading to sound check. It had been a couple of months since you’d seen Eddie, but that wouldn’t matter, right? You’d spent a whole week workshopping incredibly personal- in some cases, intimately personal- songs with the guy, so singing onstage with him shouldn’t be a big deal. You were a professional, so it didn’t matter that you hadn’t performed in over two years, you could do this. Never mind the fact that this was the first performance of the rest of your career; never mind that sometimes the way Eddie looked at you make you feel like your knees were about to buckle; never mind that Eddie Munson, rock god and sex symbol of the metal world, was going to be within touching distance the moment you set foot on that stage…

A knock at the door of your tiny dressing room startled you, along with a voice letting you know that sound check was about to begin. Decisively, you grabbed your water bottle and headed to the stage before you could psych yourself out any more.

When you got to the stage, Eddie was the first person you laid eyes on. He smiled at you, dark curls flying around his face and forming a sinful-looking halo around his face as he gave you a friendly nod- god, he was gorgeous. Waving back at him, you returned the nod and grinned. You wouldn’t be going on until the end of their set, so you situated yourself on an empty stool backstage with a view of the band.

Their practice was fascinating to watch, how all four of the band members were so obviously masters of their craft, each ear trained to notice any imperfection in the way their instruments sounded through the stereos. Every once in a while, Eddie would look your way out the corner of his eye, just to check if you were still watching; you always were. Whenever he saw you looking directly at him, never glancing down at your phone or at the other band members (besides the odd look thrown in Gareth Emerson’s direction; the way his curls bounced was honestly hypnotic), he’d hold your eye contact, smirk into the microphone, and continue to belt out the lyrics to his songs with a smidge more cockiness than he had been prior.

When the time finally came for you to join them, you took a deep breath and strutted to where Eddie stood in the center of the stage. No one had handed you a mic, so you weren’t sure where you were supposed to stand until Eddie moved aside to make room for you at his mic stand.

You looked questioningly at Eddie. “You don’t need your mic?”

He chuckled, placing a hand on the small of your back as he put his lips to your ear. You figured he was just trying to avoid the mic picking up his voice, but the hand on your back… that was new. Was this a move? Was Eddie Munson making a move? On you?

Oh.

That’s a fun development.

“This one’s all you, darlin’.” Eddie said, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I’ll stay out of your way. Also-” He pulled away enough to look you in the eyes, and your lips must have been a little too close to the mic because it picked up your fucking gasp. You jerked your head away from the mic, cursing yourself for being so nervous.

Eddie definitely noticed, but all he did was chuckle, still staring at you with giant doe eyes framed by smile lines and bushy brown eyebrows. “-it’s good to see you, popstar.” There was no condescension in his tone this time; all you could find in his gaze was kind, genuine joy that you were here, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

Confidently, you gripped the mic with both hands, smirking at Eddie through your side eye. You didn’t bother leaning away from the mic when you replied, sprinkling sultry into your voice. If Eddie Munson was trying to drop a hint, you wanted him to know you were receiving it.

“It’s good to see you too, rockstar.”

***

Mic check went flawlessly, which meant it was time for you and the band to eat in the green room while fans began lining up outside the venue, waiting for the doors to open.

You had a couple drinks with the band while biding your time before you had to get dressed for the show. Much to your delight, Eddie never left your side the whole time. You had been close to him in your living room day after day when you’d worked on your songs, but this was different; you kept noticing little glances and touches that spoke louder than words- how his hands lingered longer than expected, never missing a chance to touch your arm or place a hand on your back to guide you as you walked. How his eyes were most focused whenever he was looking at you, and he never seemed to give you passing glances- every look he gave you was intense and purposeful, it made you shiver in a very good way. When he and the band left to get ready for showtime, he took a moment to check on how you were before leaving to go to his dressing room.

“You nervous?” he asked. There wasn’t any judgment there, just concern for you.

“Yes,” you admitted, “But I think I’ve got it.”

Eddie smiled widely, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and squeezing you tightly. “Oh I know you’ve got it, angel.”

You caught his wrist, holding it to your shoulder before he could retract it. Turning to him, you batted your eyes a bit before raising an eyebrow. “Angel, huh?”

Eddie inclined his head, eyes narrowing flirtatiously. “What, should I switch back to sweetheart?”

You smirked. “Only if you wanna make me mad.”

It took everything in you not to shrink back from him as he leaned forward, practically glowering over you. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but must have decided against it. You saw his tongue poke into the inside of his cheek as he nodded to himself, eyes narrowing further as if he were having a whole conversation within his head that you weren’t privy to. Finally, he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze and you let him go, staring at him with every ounce of confidence you could muster.

“...I’ll remember that, popstar.” he said, voice low and gravelly and sure to throw you into a coma if he said the right words with that voice at the right time. You didn’t let him see how much he was affecting you, though- save for a little grin that you couldn’t hide as he smirked at you and walked away.

When he exited the green room- and you were sure you were alone- you finally let out a breath that you’d been holding for what seemed like entire minutes. You grabbed your drink, chugging down the rest of your liquid courage in the hopes that it might also cool you down a bit.

***

The cheers from the crowd were deafening, and the gravity of what was about to happen was starting to get to you.

Corroded Coffin was about to start the song that would be your cue to join them. You stood in the wings like you had during sound check, this time fussing over your outfit to ensure every piece was in place. The fact that it was Halloween combined with the tone of your new album had influenced your wardrobe choice for the evening- ripped black jeans that were more rip than jean, a strappy black bustier top with a plethora of silver buckles that decorating the surface of your bodice where the sides attached at your sternum, fishnet fingerless gloves, and your favorite part of the outfit: the biggest platform boots you’d ever owned. You remembered seeing them and falling in love immediately with the straps that decorated the entirety of the shoe, as well as the silver buckles on each strap that matched your top like a dream. Paired with your blue hair, you looked strikingly goth and nearly unrecognizable from the girl your fans remembered.

When Eddie announced you onstage, you had to take a deep breath before joining him out there. Slow inhale, slow exhale… and then you were overtaken with hot stage lights.

Out on the stage, you could really take in the size of this crowd- it was far larger than what you were used to, and when they realized who you were, they went wild. You couldn’t help but be intimidated until you felt Eddie’s hand gently grounding you as it ghosted the skin on your back.

His lips tickled your ear as he leaned in and whispered in your ear out of range from the mic, “Knock ‘em dead, sweetheart.”

You felt a flare of indignation intertwined with delight, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little evilly into the mic at this little shit of a rockstar.

He did that on purpose.

You looked at him with the biggest smirk on your face, and it matched the smug, sultry grin on his. Silently, he nodded at the audience as if to say ‘Well? They’re waiting.’

You looked over your shoulder at Jeff on the bass, nodded, and right on cue as Jeff began the first note of the song, the entire stage was flooded with scarlet light.

***

Eddie could tell you were nervous. Flirting with you probably wasn’t helping, and for all he knew, he might even be making you uncomfortable.

However…

Over the years, Eddie’s gotten more perceptive when it came to the subtleties of body language. He didn’t miss the fact that you’d been leaning into every touch he ghosted over your skin, no matter how overt or fleeting those touches might have been. He’d seen the change in your eye contact when it lingered a little longer than necessary- that shift from attentive to intrigued, even a little wanting at times.

The only question was what you wanted, and Eddie was really hoping it was him.

As he watched you take his place at the mic, standing monochrome in scarlet light, he bit his lip as he tried to hold back the salacious grin that slid across his lips; he was unsuccessful.

Eddie hit his guitar part easily as you purred the lyrics that the two of you had slaved over into your microphone.

Be more predictable

Be less political

Not too original

Keep to tradition, but stay individual

Thrusting ever so slightly with his warlock, Eddie channeled the rage and rebellion of your lyrics into every word, smirking with the next few lines- they had been one of the first additions to the song that he’d made, and you more than did them justice.

Dirty but washable

Winning but stoppable

All that I’m hearing is

You wanna make the impossible possible

Even though you’d been nervous earlier, it looked like you’d been able to shake it all off. Confidence was rolling off you like waves, strength in your comfort onstage practically seeping out of your pores. Eddie felt proud, yes, but mostly? He was turned the fuck on by it. His eyes never left you as you carefully removed the mic from its stand and leisurely strode to the edge of the stage as you sang the next lines, punctuating the last with a little shake of your head and a comically disgusted wrinkle of your nose.

Is this what you’d all prefer?

Would you like me better if I was still her?

Did she make your mouths water?

Ugh.

Just like you’d practiced, flashing white lights littered the stage right on cue when the drums opened up the chorus, and you belted those lyrics with all the anger and exasperation that he knew you’d felt when you’d written them. You were a force to be reckoned with- this was that girl he’d met when he’d walked into your apartment acting like a jackass; this was the firecracker of a woman who wasn’t afraid to tell him exactly what she thought.

I know the part I’ve played before

I know the shit that I’ve ignored

I know the girl that you adored

She’s dead, it’s time to fucking mourn

I can’t spoon-feed you anymore

Dinner’s served, it’s on the floor

I can’t spoon-feed you anymore

You dropped to a crouch, for the end of the chorus, legs bent but spread slightly, and flashing lights glinted off the metal buckles of your platform boots. Your voice ripped from your chest as you belted into the mic.

You’ll have to eat me as I am

Eddie was incredibly grateful for the crouch you’d dropped into, because it gave him a view of your ass that was so perfect, he actually groaned. Swooned, practically. Thank god you had his mic and the music was loud enough that no one noticed. He hoped. However, anyone with eyes could probably see that he was basically undressing you with his gaze right now, so he really needed to get it together unless he wanted to be on a front page tomorrow for the wrong reasons. He cringed, imagining the headline Munson Ogles Popstar Half His Age. Mid-Life Crisis? Yeah. His publicist would love that one.

You stood back up, stalking the edge of the stage as you sang the second verse. When you were about halfway through, you turned to look over your shoulder at Eddie, and it just about knocked the breath from his lungs. Your eyes- lined in black and zeroing in on him like something out of his metalhead fantasies- smoldered like embers on the edge of a cigarette as you sang the second half of the verse to him.

Longer hair and tighter clothes

Would you like me better if I didn’t oppose?

Silver platters, pretty bows…

You were at his side now, turned sideways from the crowd so you were facing him as he turned to face you in tandem. About a foot away from each other, the only thing between you was his guitar, thankfully big enough to hide the way his hard-on was quickly growing harder with every moment you looked at him with those eyes.

Your expression shifted, eyes rolling as you threw your head back in mock boredom, amping the lines up to the extreme. As you lifted your head back up, you looked at him with the brattiest fucking face Eddie had ever seen as you delivered the final line of the verse into the mic.

…Fuck.

And then you smirked, tip of your tongue peeking out of your lips and you winked at him.

Fucking. Winked.

Ohhhhhh, you were doing this on purpose. You had to be.

And Eddie couldn’t do shit about it, because you were in the middle of a performance, on stage, jumping around in platform boots and screaming the chorus into your mic like fucking banshee. So he channeled every ounce of sexual frustration into shredding the fuck out of his guitar and staring you down, salivating at the way you blazed on that stage like a witch at the stake. Then, about halfway through that chorus, at the edge of the stage and working the crowd for all they could give you, Eddie just about had a heart attack.

Because you dropped to your fucking knees.

You let the music take control of you, screaming ‘I can’t spoon-feed you anymore’ into the mic, you dropped down to one knee followed by the other as you delivered the final lines before Eddie’s solo.

You’ll have to eat me as I am

You held your last note long and loud, widening your knees and leaning into a backbend that didn’t stop until your upper back touched the stage behind you. Eddie was amazed that he was even able to remember his part when you were in front of him doing that. Jesus Christ.

Eddie continued to play, and he saw you crane your neck just in time to make eye contact with him as you delivered the next line of the song. You brought the mic to your lips, your knees still spread open and your spine deliciously arched.

Choke on it!

God…you were gonna kill him.

You pushed yourself back into a kneeling position, facing the audience. As Eddie’s guitar solo became more complex, and his playing more impressive, your jaw dropped as you looked to the audience and fanned yourself, as if you were all sharing a joint reaction of ‘wow, are you guys hearing this too?!’. Eyes crinkling from your smile, you brought the mic to your mouth again.

Choke on it!

Once you were back on your feet, you stood at ease in the center of the stage as you waited out Eddie’s solo. When he finished, you stared down the crowd as you delivered the last chorus. At this point, Eddie could see some of the spectators mouthing the words along with you, and his chest swelled with pride at your ability to win over a crowd that hadn’t even been expecting you on stage. Hell, knowing his fans, most of them were probably older than you by several years, and yet here they were singing your song.

When you drew your first breath after the final note, the crowd went wild. He expected you to be staring at them, soaking up the energy of a satisfied throng of fans, but no- immediately, your eyes were on him, an ear-to-ear smile stretching across your face. You had just absolutely killed your first song performed in two years, and you wanted to share your joy with him before you shared it with anyone else.

Eddie couldn’t help but mirror your smile- it was the least he could do, after the way you just made his heart swell to triple its usual size. He took a few steps over to where Jeff stood with his bass, nodding to the mic in a silent question, to which Jeff gladly stepped aside.

“If this is what happens when you take a two-year hiatus,” Eddie said slyly into the mic, “then maybe you should do it more often, rockstar.”

The crowd cheered again, and you looked caught off guard by his calling you rockstar instead of popstar. To Eddie, it made perfect sense- tonight, there was nothing pop about you. You were rock & roll incarnate, his equal in every single way. You took a few steps back until you and he were the same distance from the edge of the stage, and as long as he was speaking, your eyes never left him.

“So I’ve been working with this absolute badass on an album- well no, I’m giving myself way too much credit, she wrote an album, I plucked a few guitar strings, yada yada yada-” You giggled as Eddie reminded the crowd of your name, loud and clear, so they knew who to look up on Spotify later. “-anyway, her album drops in a week, that last song you heard was called…”

Eddie looked at you with expectant eyes and a devilish smile. He wanted to hear you say it. Just for fun. He enjoyed being a little shit.

You smirked into your mic. “Eat Me.”

The crowd cheered again, all it took was hearing you say two little words. Eddie knew the feeling.

“We’ve got one more before our lovely guest has to leave the stage, and this one is my personal favorite off the album.” Eddie started warming up with a couple chords from the song before adding, “This is Freak.”

You had replaced the mic into its stand at center stage, which was where Eddie headed to meet you. During sound check, you had asked him if he would need his own mic for this one, but Eddie- selfishly- had said it was no problem, and he didn’t mind sharing. That was a drastic understatement though, since he would happily leap at any excuse to have his lips close to yours in any capacity at all.

You smiled at him, and you were doing that thing again- that thing where you looked at him like you were giving him a dare. That thing where you touched the tip of your tongue to your upper lip.

Eddie wanted to bite that lip.

Instead, he smoldered down at you as he began the opening chords to Freak.

***

You may not have been sure about Eddie’s feelings before tonight, but you were now.

He wanted you. Bad. So bad, you felt high off the lust that was rolling off the man beside you.

You could tell by the way he was looking at you that he wanted to do so many things to you here and now, but due to the giant crowd before you that wasn’t an option. The power trip of knowing that every move you made was driving him crazy and he couldn’t do shit about it made you feel bratty as fuck, and you channeled every ounce of that into each word of your next song.

Pinch me, singe me, inch me to the edge

Your eyes fluttered shut as you let the sultry lyrics take over, arms bending as you brought them up to dance above your head as you stretched your neck back. Your pose mimicked the way you might have stretched across a bed, arching your back slightly in a way that you knew would make Eddie’s mind wander to all the right places.

Prod me, laud me, ungodly but heaven-sent

As the tempo picked up for the bridge, your lips brushed the mic and you bounced slightly to the beat. Looking up at Eddie, you felt your chest tighten when you saw how blown his pupils were as they zeroed in on you. There was nothing silly or flirty in his gaze now- this was lust, want, need… it was predatory in a way that made you shiver.

Get your tickets to the freak show, baby

Step right up to watch the freak go crazy.

Eddie’s guitar launched into the chorus with you, both of your mouths breaking your little standoff by smiling because you couldn’t help yourselves- performing together, this close, singing lyrics that the two of you connected with- you were having so much fun.

Am what I am and what I am is a piece of meat

Take a bite just to watch me bleed

Freak

Say what you want and what you want is behind your teeth

Ain’t gotta spell it out for me

Freak

Now Eddie’s lips were the ones on the mic, his throaty voice tearing through the air in a way that made you stop short from its power alone. He sang the first two lines on his own-

Bait me, you can cage me

Even plate me, I don’t care

You joined him for the bridge on one side of the mic while his mouth remained in place at the other, and his voice dropped down to his chest to create a sound that was more growl than song. He sounded demonic, feral- damn, you wanted to jump his bones right now.

Get your tickets to the freak show, baby

Step right up to watch the freaks go crazy

As you both sang the chorus together this time, your eye contact across the microphone was charged with feelings reflected as though you were looking in a mirror. Anticipation for what would happen after this show was building with every lyric, and as he growled his lines into the mic you wondered what the headline would be if you stuck your tongue down his throat right now.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t how you wanted to start this next leg of your career- at least publicly. Different time, different place. Like, say, in about thirty minutes. In your dressing room. Against a wall, preferably.

When you finished the chorus, Eddie shredded through his guitar solo like a bat out of hell, even improvised a scream into the mic that made your jaw drop yet again. Upon hearing it, you couldn’t help but let out a surprised laugh, hopping up and down in your platform boots and headbanging along with him. After he’d finished, you took hold of the mic stand with both hands and began chanting repeating lines that would take you through to the next chorus before ending the song.

Came from the trauma, stayed for the drama

You sang the line twice before Eddie joined you for the third and fourth repetition, that deep, ripping croon tearing its way through his throat and out of his plush pink lips less than an inch from yours. You wanted to turn your head and look at him so badly, but you were so close that you’d be locking lips if you did.

As you both sang the final chorus, you pulled back just enough for your gazes to meet; you were rewarded with lust blown umber eyes, sweat-soaked curls framing a face as timeless as music itself, and a grin that sparked pure joy in your very soul.

If this guy can fuck, you might just fall for him.

Eddie prompted the audience to cheer for you one more time after the song was over, shooting you a smile as he brought you in for a friendly hug. He was in front of thousands; you knew his hands would remain in strictly G-rated areas (unfortunately), but he did whisper in your ear out of range from the mic.

“Wait for me in your dressing room.”

Bingo.

You thought about following his lead- waiting patiently in your dressing room for him to finish up his show then have his way with you- but you had a better idea. You tilted your head up quickly to bring your lips up to his ear, your clear lip gloss catching its shell.

“I’m gonna keep watching you in the wings- you can do whatever you want after that.”

Your eyes met as you pulled away, and you let yourself revel for a moment at the way he looked at you- like he wanted to, well…eat you. Eyes so dark they were almost black under the stage lights, he shook his head slightly in disbelief. Again, you felt that familiar rush of adrenaline from driving him crazy when he couldn’t do a fucking thing about it; you were beginning to think you might be addicted.

As Corroded Coffin finished their set, you stayed offstage and did exactly what you said you would- you watched Eddie every second. You were like a sponge soaking up every flip of his hair, every deft movement of his fingers as they flew across the frets of his guitar. Every once in a while, his eyes would flick to where you stood, checking to see if you were still there, which of course you were. Each time he saw you, you watched as he shook his head again, or rolled his eyes, or- in one case which almost resulted in you melting into a puddle on the floor- maintaining eye contact as he belted out lyrics to songs he wrote, with a gaze so smoldering it felt as if there were no one in the whole arena but the two of you. With every minute, every note, every song- you felt him spinning a web around you like a spider trapping its prey, and you willingly anticipated the moment he would finally storm off the stage and drink you dry.

And that’s exactly what he did.

The last song ended, and Eddie wasted no time in ripping his guitar from his torso, handing it to a roadie without a second glance and grabbing you by the hand. You didn’t protest as he pulled you into a corner backstage away from any prying eyes. Before you could think a coherent thought besides Wow, I’m wet, Eddie took both your wrists in his strong, ring-dappled hands and slammed them above your head against the wall. His eyes, black with lust and wolfishly hungry, bored into yours as he used the last ounce of restraint to hold himself back long enough to ask the vital question, “Tell me, you want this?”

He bit the words out; growled them into your face as your eyes widened, desire painting your expression a gorgeous shade of pathetic as you nodded desperately. A deep groan sounded from his chest as Eddie pressed his pelvis against yours, and you gasped at how hard he was. “Words, sweetheart, I need you to say it.”

That familiar flare of indignation in your chest mingled with the flames in your core that burned for all he had to give you. Your eyes shifted, screaming rebellion that harmonized with the submission that your body so desperately craved. The corner of your mouth quirked up in a mocking half-smile. “Fuck yes, I want it, what do you think I was bouncing around out there for-”

His lips murmured a “Fucking Christ,” as he cut your sentence short, smashing his needy mouth against your burgeoning smirk. His arms crumbled as he finally felt the release of his skin on yours, caging you in as his forearms collapsed against the wall, hands still closed around your wrists. His biceps flexed, framing your faces as he all but devoured you in a kiss that was so wanting, so possessive- it claimed you. It ruined all kisses that came before it and would ever follow it.

He was ruining you, and you committed the way his whole body covered yours and made you feel both safe and coveted to memory, imprinting it on your mind knowing that you would probably never feel this wanted ever again.

Then, just as soon as he was on you, his touch lifted away.

A needy whine escaped your lips before you could hold it back. Eddie slotted his tattooed hand into the space where your neck met your jawline, thumb caressing your skin as he smiled sweetly down at you- but his eyes were anything but sweet.

“I gotta go back out for the encore. Go take these off-” you melted into his touch as his other hand played with the buckles at the front of your top. His hand at your neck crept back, taking your chin between his thumb and the middle knuckles of his forefinger as if he were scolding a child.

“-and wait in your dressing room.”

Your eyelids were heavy, and you smirked as you opened your mouth to argue-

“And don’t fucking argue with me.”

You bit the reply into your bottom lip- you could save the brattiness for later. Just as Eddie had begun to pull away, his eyes dropped to your teeth on your lip and in half a second he was on you again.

He sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, running his tongue along the soft skin before biting down firm enough to set off your mental alarms yet soft enough that you didn’t feel any pain from it. He pulled away once more, letting your lip go with a little pop.

“Been wanting to do that all night.” Eddie said, his shit-eating grin back in full force as he winked at you and jogged back to the stage. You stayed put for a second, smiling like an idiot as you heard the roar of the crowd, imagining what Eddie must look like while he returned to the stage with lips pink and swollen from his attempt at eating you alive. No one would know why he looked out of breath and a little extra happy… but you would.

You’d never walked as fast in your life as you did in that moment, making a beeline for your dressing room, fingers already beginning to work on the buckles at your sternum.

***

When Eddie opened the door to your dressing room about ten minutes later, the gigantic grin on his face fell instantly when he saw you lounging on the couch in the same clothes you’d been wearing during sound check, sans your oversized skull sweatshirt. Your black shorts and knit tank top still showed plenty of skin, but he had explicitly told you to take off your clothes and wait for him. You were still in the mood to brat out, apparently.

You looked up at him from your phone, smiling sweetly with challenging eyes. “Hi.”

Eddie closed the door behind him, leaning against it as it shut. “Hi.” he mimicked, crossing his inked forearms over his chest. He stared at you silently, expectantly.

You raised an eyebrow, coyly pretending not to know what he was being so pissy about. “What?”

Eddie pushed off the door, walking towards you at a pace that was agonizingly slow. “You know what.”

You huffed haughtily, looking back at your phone and pretending to be more interested in your screen than the man who’d had you panting up against a wall ten minutes ago. “Well that’s a little presumptuous of you, I’m not a mind reader.”

It didn’t take Eddie long to cross the expanse of your tiny dressing room, deftly sliding the phone from your hands and placing it on a low table beside the couch. “Should’ve known you weren’t listening earlier,” Eddie tsked and shook his head in disappointment. “I know you were a little distracted back there, sweetheart, but when I told you to take your clothes off, I meant it.”

You sighed as Eddie stared down at you from where he stood, towering over you as you laid back against the couch cushions. His gaze devoured you piece by piece as it roved over your wide eyes, glossy lips- your shoulders still shining from sweat after giving your all to the stage, your chest as it rose and fell with your quickening breath.

“Well,” you purred, like a cat who knew they were the center of attention and didn’t mind it in the slightest. “You didn’t say not to put on clothes after I took the other ones off…”

As you spoke he leaned forward, placing a knee on the couch between your legs so that your heat was only inches from his thigh. His hands splayed across your rib cage, admiring the stark contrast between his ink-covered hands and your soft, cream-colored shirt. It was thin enough to see… wait, were you-?

Eddie smirked, a breathy laugh escaping through his nose as he pulled the fabric taut, confirming his suspicions that yep, you weren’t wearing a bra.

Oblivious to Eddie’s train of thought, you continued, “...if you wanted me to just wait here for you naked then you should’ve been more specif-”

Rrrrriiiiipp!

Your jaw dropped, cold air hitting your bare breasts without warning as Eddie tore your shirt open. You squealed, your shocked voice jumping up several octaves. “Eddie!” but your eyes told a different story. You were pissed, but the anger you felt was nothing compared to how fucking hot he looked after doing something as dominant and unexpected as ripping your fucking clothes off.

He raised his eyebrows, giving you a moment to push him away in case he had gone too far- but you didn’t. Instead, you narrowed your eyes up at him and crossed your arms over your bare chest, pressing your cleavage together the way you knew would drive him nuts. “That was fucking Gucci!” you pouted.

Eddie laughed, taking your crossed arms and shoving them up above your head over the arm of the couch as he mockingly imitated your high-pitched “‘That was fucking Gucci!’” he lowered himself over you, bringing his face to the hollow of your neck, and you heard him inhale the scent of you from your collarbone to your ear. He wrapped his lips around the underside of your ear and sucked, then bit, savoring your little moan at the sensation. His mouth met your ear as he growled, “Wouldn��t have happened if you’d just done as you were told, instead of being a little fucking brat.”

Eddie pulled back, sitting up on his knee that was still slotted between your legs as he cupped his hands around your naked breasts. He kneaded them, played with you like he was testing out a brand new toy. He addressed you without looking up into your eyes as he continued to paw at your chest. “You gonna be a good girl now and do what I tell you to?”

You raised your eyebrows, amused that he expected your submission so quickly. Smugly, you looked up at him through narrowed eyes, placing your hands behind your head like a pillow and sighed petulantly.

“Fucking bite me.”

His eyes snapped up at you, thick with predatory disbelief at your cheek even when he had you half naked beneath you. He’d been challenged before, sure- but at this point, when he had his woman pinned down and moaning under him, he was usually the undisputed decision-maker during sex. The smile that bloomed across his lips was devilish, almost like there was a beast within him that had been kept safely under lock and key- until you’d said that.

Eddie was on you, grabbing one breast and enveloping the nipple in a harsh suck of his lips, biting down on the little nub hard. You gasped, the sound a lewd, sharp moan that brought out a laugh in him so nefarious it gave you chills. He looked up at you with eyes alight with amusement and feral need that shook you to your core.

“Oh, baby-” he laughed, crawling up until his face hovered over yours. “-I’m gonna have some fucking fun with you.”

Taking your face in his hands, Eddie Munson kissed you like it was what he had been put on God’s green earth to do. His lips moved against yours with a beautiful mix of urgency and devotion, like you could just tell that right here, right now, there was nothing else he cared about except making sure you knew exactly how badly he wanted- needed- to make you his. He slowly lowered the rest of his body until his pelvis was flat against yours, grinding into your clothed heat and exploiting the chink in your brat armor that was the his fucking size.

You bucked your hips up into him, craving friction as you moaned into his mouth. Eddie chuckled, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “What’s the matter baby, you need something?”

You pouted against him, moving a hand to reach between the two of you and palm him through his jeans, but he knocked your hand out of the way, continuing to dry hump you to insanity. You whined as he bit your pouting lip, sucking it into his mouth before his tongue slipped into yours. It explored you, tasting you as your tongue happily let him in. You felt his hand creep down your torso, giving your abused, bitten tit a little squeeze before traveling further down to the button of your shorts.

He undid the button with ease before you registered that he was taking off your clothes after he had denied you access to do the same to him. “Hey,” you panted, reaching for him, “you first, that’s not fair. I’m nearly naked and you haven’t even taken off your shirt.”

Eddie chuckled, tilting his head to the side as he feigned confusion. “Fair?” he asked, “Since when did you want to play fair?” He reached back down to your shorts, button already undone, and gently pulled down the zipper. “You were the one out there- as you said- ‘bouncing around’-” His hands raked up your thighs until they reached the hem of your shorts and slowly tugged them down as you lifted your hips slightly so he could remove them smoothly. Eddie smirked; NOW she does what I want her to do. “-knowing full well I couldn’t do a damn thing about it… and that fucking wink-” His eyes rolled back in his head just imagining it. He groaned as he pulled your shorts from your feet and discarded them on the floor. “-what the fuck was that, huh? Trying to get a rise out of me, baby?”

You giggled, bubbly laughter floating into a breathy sigh as Eddie’s finger traced the line of your slit through your panties. “Hmmmmm, like it when you call me baby.” you hummed.

He raised an eyebrow, “Oh you do?” His finger traveled up over the fabric, and he chuckled when you bucked up into his touch as the pad of his finger passed over your clit. That finger slipped under the elastic waistband of your panties, pulling it upwards off your skin as far as it could stretch. “You’re entirely too happy right now,” he stated, matter-of-factly. He let go of the elastic, making you jump with a breathy whimper as it hit your skin with a soft sting. “I’m switching back to sweetheart.”

You whined and he laughed as he continued to play with the elastic on your panties. He stared at them, entranced, before a wolfish grin took up residence on his face. “You like these?” he asked, and you knew where this was going right away.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. “How kind of you to ask this time.”

The grin grew, and he took the crotch of your panties into his fist, grabbing the fabric above it with his other hand to do the same. You ground your hips against his knuckles as they brushed your pussy, already soaked and eager for any friction you could get. “Yeah, you know what,” he voiced, as if he were simply thinking out loud. “I don’t really care if you like them or not.”

And with that, another article of clothing was ripped to shreds by Eddie Munson and his stupid, tattooed, ring-covered, sexy-as-fuck hands.

This time you couldn’t even be offended; you were just fucking feral at this point. While he was still distracted by your panties, you quickly shoved yourself up to a kneeling position, startling him enough that he moaned into the fervent kiss that crashed into his mouth. The two of you knelt on the couch cushions, hands grabbing at fabric desperately in a quest to make your skin connect at every square inch you had. Eddie allowed you to pull his shirt over his head, and the shallow breath you had left was instantly knocked from your lungs when you took in the ink that decorated his torso. Some tattoos were old and faded almost blue, while others looked newer- song lyrics, mythical creatures, hellish images adorned his skin like a tapestry that belonged in a museum- but it was here, under your hands. All for you. You couldn’t hold yourself back from bending down a little lower, sliding your tongue up his sternum over the masterpieces scarred into his skin and licking a long, broad stripe from his chest until you reached the tip of his chin. You felt him shiver, arms tightening around you after shoving the remains of your tank top over your shoulders. You started to push him back, planning to open his pants and show him what else you could do with your tongue- but Eddie wasn’t about to let you be on top after the way you’d been acting all night.

“Mm-mm, nope.” he mumbled, stepping off the couch.

“I’m just trying to suck your cock, baby. Please?” You looked up at him with your best puppy-dog eyes, widening your legs as you knelt on the couch facing him, squishing your boobs together in that way that usually got you exactly what you wanted. For some reason, Eddie was immune.

He placed his hand along your neck, thumb and forefinger squeezing just enough for him to feel your pulse. The way your eyes widened, looking up at him the same way you had when he’d shoved you up against a wall earlier- it brought a satisfied hum out of Eddie, and he loved the way he could feel your heartbeat quicken slightly. There was no hiding what you felt when his hand was wrapped around your throat.

“You like calling me baby, sweetheart?”

You gulped. He felt it, of course, and he had to hold back a laugh- you looked so cute like this. Made him want to break you just to see what you’d be like when he picked up the pieces.

Your eyes were blown wide, like a hunted fox with nowhere to run. “Is that okay? Can I call you baby?”

His face crumpled- god, you were adorable. Eddie smiled sympathetically, “Oh you can call me whatever you want, sweetheart-” His thumb moved up to your bottom lip, stroking gently before working it into your mouth; he groaned, head thrown back when he felt your soft, wet tongue swirl around his digit and coat it with your spit.

“-don’t care what you’re calling me as long as you know I own your ass tonight.”

And then you moaned- oh, you fucking moaned his name around his finger in your mouth, and his cock twitched at the way it sounded. He wanted to record that, play it on loop, put it in a fucking song, hell- anything for him to be able to listen to it again and again and again. He wanted everyone to hear it, to know it was his name on your fucking tongue.

His thumb ripped from your mouth, replaced by his middle and ring finger, delving surprisingly deep into your mouth as you gagged around them. Your tongue quickly resumed its previous motions, lapping at his thick fingers and sliding over, under, around, between them. You reveled in the taste of metal as you tongued his silver rings. You gasped when he removed his fingers before, without warning, he slid them into your weeping pussy.

Your expression was beautifully obscene, eyes wide with surprise while your mouth- glistening with spit from his fingers leaving in a rush- fallen open in a silent scream. Eddie thrust his fingers up and into you repeatedly, forcing you open wider and wider with the rapid motion.

“Actually, I changed my mind,” Eddie grit into your ear, “I don’t wanna hear anything but my goddamn name leave that pretty ‘lil mouth until I’m done with you, aright?”

You were moaning, but evidently that was still not enough to deter you from being your snarky self. “Well that’s unrealistic, I’ll probably say more than just tha- ah! Oh fuck-!”

Eddie’s pace was relentless, fingers ripping through you with a vengeance as he muttered “Bratty little slut-” spearing you over and over as you sped toward the white-hot precipice that wasn’t quite release, but certainly what Eddie intended to pull out of you.

You moaned as what felt like a dam within you suddenly gave way, flooding your inner thighs, Eddie’s hand, and the couch beneath you. Eddie smiled wide, the muscles in his arm screaming pointlessly- he wasn’t going to stop until you’d given him every last drop there was to give.

“-yeah, not so bratty when you’re squirting all over my hand, are you baby? What, are you trying to say something? Spit it out, popstar-”

The noises tumbling from your lips were anything but coherent, Eddie knew that. He just kept grinning like a kid in a candy store as you babbled sounds that might have been his name, might have been a prayer, might have just been yes, yes, yes, Eddie, god yes!

Whatever it was, it was music to his ears.

Eddie looped his arms under your knees, pulling you into a sitting position with your legs wide open. Dropping to his knees, he stared at your spread pussy, glistening with the slick he’d just wrestled from you. His hands, wet with all you’d given him, grasped your thighs firmly but gently as he looked up into your eyes. It might have been the post-orgasmic haze you were experiencing, but for a second, Eddie looked at you with nothing in his eyes but care and admiration. His gaze shone like sunlight as he looked up at you, your stomach creasing from the crunch position he'd placed you in, your breasts rising and falling with each breath- the way he stared at you made you feel like an angel.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful.” he whispered, hands squeezing your thighs affectionately. Before you could even react, his tongue was on you, lapping away at your soaked pussy. You mewled, head thrown back and spine arching as unraveled you from the inside out. He traced endless intricate shapes over your clit, your lips, your hole- thoughts flew from your brain as you let his mouth drive you fucking wild. His ministrations slowed at one point, causing you to open your eyes- you couldn’t even remember when you’d closed them- and look up at Eddie.

Upon looking up, you were blessed with the sight of Eddie Munson, close-cut beard soaked with your slick, shirtless, pantsless, and currently pulling off his black boxers to reveal a cock that made you salivate on sight.

You let your brattiness fly out the window- there would be time for more of it later, but right now you needed that cock in one of your holes and you didn’t quite care which one.

Eddie stroked himself leisurely, eyes boring down into yours the whole time. “Tell me what you want, babygirl.”

You spread your legs open wider for him. “Please.” you whined.

Eddie shook his head, disappointed, sinking to his knees again. “See, this is what I knew would happen,” he murmured, sliding a finger around your clit at a torturously slow pace. “I can’t believe you got fucked stupid already and I didn’t even have to use my cock, those were just my fingers, baby.” From the slick sounds you heard from below your line of sight, you knew that he was jerking himself off as he played with your pussy. It was enough to pull a desperate moan from your throat. He licked one flat, wet stripe from your opening to your clit before murmuring against you, “Can’t even use your words and tell me what you want, sweet girl’s been fucked too dumb to make decisions, is that right?”

You found yourself nodding ‘yes’, the dirty words flying out of his mouth in rapid succession throwing your brain into overdrive. He was right; you barely had the brain capacity to think right now, much less match his attitude with snark. All you could do was stare up at him with wide eyes, waiting for whatever he planned on doing next.

Eddie clicked his tongue, tilting his head as he looked at you pityingly. “That’s right, don’t worry baby I’ll just make all the decisions now, okay?” He rose, leaning over you as he placed a knee to your side and stroked himself, lining up his fully hard cock at your entrance. Your heartbeat quickened, excitement and anticipation building now that you knew his cock would be inside you soon. You mewled as his tip stroked your slit, up and down and up and down again… and stopping at your hole, hovering outside you.

You looked up at him desperately, only to breathe in sharply upon seeing his devilish grin paired with coal-black lust-blown eyes.

“Beg for it.”

You sighed so heavy it became a sob, frustrated and scrunching up your face like you were ready to throw a tantrum.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you whined.

“There she is.” he murmured.

If looks could kill, your glare would have sent Eddie Munson to his deathbed. He matched it with a condescending smile that spoke volumes of the power trip he was on right now. Leaning in slightly closer, he repeated himself. “Beg, sweetheart.”

You narrowed your eyes. “No.”

Eddie shrugged, backing up just enough for his cock to leave your skin- you knew it was over from there.

“Wait!” you cried, eyebrows drawing together desperately under his cocksure gaze. Christ you didn’t want to beg, but you might not have a choice. Eddie waited patiently, stroking his cock absentmindedly as he watched you squirm below him.

You looked up at him, giving him your best ‘fuck me’ eyes. “Please fuck me Eddie.” Your voice was honey sweet, soft and submissive.

Eddie crouched down, sticking a finger in his mouth before he used it to play with your pussy, stroking circles around your clit and pumping it slowly in and out of you. “Aww, baby…” he crooned before narrowing his eyes. “-we both know you can do better than that.”

You groaned, back arching as your hands fisted frustratingly into the cushions. “Eddie, pleaaasse-”

“Try harder, sweetheart.”

“Fuck, Eddie you fucking prick, just fucking fuck me, please, I need your cock-”

Eddie smiled- that was good enough for him. “‘Atta girl.” he groaned deeply as he pushed his cock into your waiting hole, your thankful moan mingling with his.

His dick was perfect, filling you deliciously and long enough to just hit that spot beneath your clit that made your nerves go berserk. You didn’t realize how loud your moaning was until Eddie shut you up by covering your mouth with his own, swallowing down every sound you made and repaying you with noises of his own.

“God, baby- so fuckin’ tight-”

You moaned, squeezing him as his cock speared you again and again. You were so built up between your squirting earlier and Eddie’s talented tongue- you were already getting close.

As if he could read your mind, Eddie grunted out as he continued thrusting into you, “I’m nearly there already, baby, you gonna cum with me?”

You whined, nodding ‘yes’ as he pacified your mewling with his thumb. You lapped at it lewdly, covering him with a thick layer of your spit before releasing it with a pop. Eddie brought it down to your clit, working gentle circles around your bundle of nerves as his thrusting picked up the pace. You squirmed under him, chasing your release as you listened to the filth that poured from his mouth while he fucked the living shit out of you.

“Jesus, fuck, so tight- my sweet girl, gonna fucking ruin you. Gonna make you come undone on my cock, just a fucking mess, gonna cum so hard on my cock-”

That last thing he said seemed to jerk him back into reality- his eyes grew wide, snapped out of his high as he looked down at you. “Shit, I don’t have a condom…baby, I’m so sorry, shit, where should I-”

You reached down, raking your nails softly over his hips. “I’m on birth control.” you said, smiling calmly. You kicked yourself for being so eager; normally you would still insist on a condom even with your implant, but Eddie just did something to you. “You haven’t been fucking any random groupies, have you?”

Eddie huffed, his laughter strained by his fast-approaching orgasm. “You’re the first in a while, angel. Last I checked I was clean, but I can still pull out if you-”

“Inside.” you whispered, grasping his ass and pulling him deeper into you. “I trust you, Eddie, I want you to fill me.”

His movements stuttered, big brown eyes wide and watching you like you were a miracle unfolding underneath him. He was still for half a second before his thumb resumed its movements over your clit as he thrusted faster, harder than before.

“Oh fuck, you want me to fill you baby? You want my fucking cum?”

His cock speared into you as deep as it could go, Eddie’s attention to your clit driving you over the edge with relentless speed. “Yes, I want it Eddie, fuck, I’m gonna-”

“Fucking take it baby, cum on that cock.”

Eddie groaned as you clamped down on him, his seed spilling inside of you while your pussy fluttered around him. You arched your back until your face was pressed into the cushions behind you, muffling your whimpering voice as you moaned his name.

A few moments passed, the air thick with the sound of heavy breathing and the smell of sex, before Eddie slowly pulled out of your wet heat. You laid there for a moment before you felt Eddie clean his sticky spend from your thighs and ass using a tissue.

“Normally,” he said gently, “I would use a warm washcloth to do this, but we have limited options.”

You sat up as he finished, smiling up at him playfully. “That sounds nice,” you said, “maybe I shouldn’t have listened to you earlier, made you wait until you couldn’t take it anymore and just whisked me off to your place.”

Eddie sat down beside you, pulling you into his lap. He looked up at you with nothing but content sweetness in his eyes, any trace of the feral dominance from earlier gone for now. “I mean, we can still do that.”

You beamed, “Really?”

Eddie scoffed, tugging you closer. “What do you mean, ‘really’? You think I need to be desperately horny to want you in my bed?”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the mention of his bed. “I don’t know… I guess I didn’t know if you wanted this to just be a one time thing, or…” You trailed off, unsure of what Eddie’s expectations had been for what happened after.

Eddie’s eyebrows drew together, confused. “Sweetheart,” he said, his finger tracing circles on your thigh affectionately. “We can hash out details whenever you’re comfortable… but tonight? I would count myself a very lucky man if you came home with me tonight.” He touched his forehead to yours, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose. “Okay?” he asked.

You looked down, suddenly shy upon hearing his honey-sweet words. You gave him a quick peck on the lips before looking him in his big brown eyes. “Okay.” you whispered.

Your eyes stayed connected, melting you until your lips met his again, kissing him sweetly as his hands worked their way to your ass, squeezing as he sighed into your kiss.

“Alright,” he grunted, playfully slapping your thigh as a signal to stand up. “Let’s get you dressed.”

You giggled. “In what? You ripped up all my clothes!” you held up the shredded panties, shaking your head in disbelief.

Eddie shrugged, stepping into his boxers. “I didn’t rip up all of them, don’t be so dramatic.” He picked up your shorts, tossing them to you. “Just go commando with the shorts and wear your sweatshirt, no one will know.”

You sighed, stepping over your torn Gucci tank top and retrieving your bra from where it sat neatly folded in a chair. Eddie looked over his shoulder at you as you began to put it on and gasped.

“You did have a bra!”

You smirked, reaching behind your back for the clasp. “Yeah… I wanted to see your face when I wasn’t wearing one.”

Eddie shook his head, smiling like an idiot as he buckled his jeans. “Unbelievable.” he chided, “Was it worth it?”

You tugged your sweatshirt over the bra, taking a few steps in Eddie’s direction until you were close enough to snake your hand around to the back of his neck and pull him down for one more kiss. When you pulled away, Eddie looked down at you entranced, blinking rapidly as if emerging from a dream. He could only describe the feeling in his chest as complete and utter euphoria.

You grinned up at him, eyes alight with adrenaline that still lingered from your performance onstage and absolute infatuation with the man before you.

“So worth it.”

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