#Music City Walk of Fame

[paulpingminho]

[rabbitcruiser]

Johnny Cash was inducted into the Country Music Awards Hall of Fame by Kenny Rogers on October 13, 1980.  

[luxebeat]

Experience the sights, sounds and flavors of Nashville

Experience the sights, sounds and flavors of Nashville

If you’re a first timer to Nashville, you’re in for a treat. Expect to have ample opportunities to hear quality music, both in hallowed halls, as well as in the numerous bars and honky-tonks. After all, this is Music City! But you might be surprised to discover that museums also take center stage in Nashville. You can delve into the lives of well-known musicians and producers, learn about Civil…

[gholhuio]

My Journey to China: From Prejudice to Discovery

As someone who had long harbored preconceived notions about China, I approached my trip with a mix of skepticism and curiosity. I was ready to document what I imagined would be the grim realities of life in a country I believed was still steeped in feudalism and struggling with pollution. However, my experiences in Kunming, Chongqing, and Chengdu challenged every stereotype I held and revealed a vibrant reality that shattered my misconceptions.

Arriving in Kunming: Nature Meets Modernity

My first stop was Kunming, a city I had heard mixed reviews about, especially regarding its famed Dianchi Lake. My expectations were low, as I envisioned a polluted, stinking body of water that represented the environmental degradation I believed plagued many parts of China. Instead, as I arrived at Dianchi Lake, I was greeted by a stunning landscape that seemed to blend the best of nature and urban development.

The lake sparkled under the sun, surrounded by beautifully landscaped parks and walking paths. Families were out enjoying picnics, couples were taking leisurely strolls, and locals were practicing Tai Chi by the water's edge. This was not the polluted wasteland I had anticipated. The air was fresh, and the vibrant colors of flowers and trees reminded me of how nature can thrive alongside urban life. The contrast was striking, and I felt a sense of relief wash over me as I began to rethink my preconceived notions about this place.

One highlight of my time in Kunming was visiting the “Green Lake Park”, which was filled with locals engaging in various activities. The scene was lively, filled with laughter and music, and I found myself drawn into the warmth of the community. Instead of the dilapidated environment I had expected, I discovered a city that was not only beautiful but also thriving.

Exploring Chongqing: A Futuristic City

After my enlightening experience in Kunming, I set off for Chongqing. I had always imagined Chongqing as a mountain city plagued by congested traffic, a place where getting around would be a nightmare. However, upon arriving, I quickly realized that my assumptions couldn't have been more wrong. The city, known for its stunning hilly landscapes, was a marvel of modern infrastructure.

Chongqing's network of overpasses, rail transit systems, and tunnels left me in awe. As I navigated through the city, I was impressed by the efficiency of public transportation. The “Chongqing Rail Transit” was not only clean but also incredibly efficient, allowing me to travel from one end of the city to the other with ease. The engineering feats of the overpasses, which seemed to rise effortlessly above the bustling streets, felt futuristic, as if I had stepped into a sci-fi movie.

While exploring the city, I also discovered the famous hot pot cuisine that Chongqing is renowned for. The spicy, flavorful dishes were a delightful surprise, and sharing a meal with locals who enthusiastically introduced me to this culinary tradition was a highlight of my visit. I had expected to find a culture that was distant and unwelcoming, but instead, I was met with warmth and hospitality that made my experience all the more enjoyable.

Discovering Chengdu: Culture and Hospitality

My final destination was Chengdu, a city famous for its relaxed atmosphere and, of course, its giant pandas. Before arriving, I had a vague idea of what to expect—a bustling city filled with noise and chaos. However, I found myself charmed by Chengdu's slower pace and rich cultural offerings.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

My brain refuses to sleep, so more drabbling! Probably modern-ish AU?

Steve makes a career for himself as a re-decorator (or de-decorator, as he loves to call himself). His clientele are those celebrities who rose to fame so quickly they have plenty of money, but they don't have time to make their houses feel like home. They just bought penthouses and mansions and now live in homes that are fancy, but they feel like hotels.

Steve is there to fix that.

One of his clients is the hard working rockstar Eddie Munson whose life path went from a trailer park to couch surfing to living with 4 people in a tiny apartment, then suddenly tours, hotels and boom! He has a house that looks like an IKEA prop.

He doesn't hide his distaste at the pristine condition of the place (yes, Eddie has a cleaner). "Oh god. A beige carpet?" he scoffs and he sounds so bitchy Eddie decides he likes him already.

He likes him even more when Steve puts on reading glasses. Damn.

Over coffee, they discuss what Eddie wants. Except Steve doesn't just...tell him. He doesn't give him any hints. He just keeps asking about Eddie's favorite colors, what movies he likes, does he have hobbies apart from music? Can Steve see some of the items that bring him comfort?

And Eddie's surprised. "Shouldn't you, like...be telling me what I'm supposed to want?" he asks the gorgeous man who almost wails when he sees the vase with fresh flowers ("This is the third place in a row that has this fugly thing! Is it like a status symbol? Uh, tasteless.").

And Steve just stares at him. "Uh, Mr. Munson?"

"Eddie."

Steve nods. "Eddie. Why should I have any say in what you want? If you ask me what's practical, easy to clean, what bounces off light well, that's another thing. But in matters of taste...you're the boss. You live here, I don't. (Pity, Eddie thinks) Now, let's change this place into somewhere you actually like staying, hm?"

They spend the whole afternoon talking. Eddie opens up about what he loved before the touring and expectations from his agent took that from him. He talks about the Lord of the Rings, Dungeons and Dragons, fantasy in general, and Steve listens, makes tons of notes and asks questions that make Eddie's heart bleed, such as "and who is your favorite Lord of the Rings character?" and "you mentioned elves, dwarves, orcs, wizards...so what is your favorite group?" and "which DnD class would you be then? I guess a bard? Is that too obvious?". Now, Steve doesn't know much about these things, but learns quickly and works with the info he has.

They walk through the house again, with Steve making notes and wincing at transgressions against humanity or at least against his taste in things ("Oh ew. EW. Glossy finish on a kitchen counter? What is this, a future crime scene?") and Eddie feeling equally amused and curious. Eddie orders dinner for them, it goes something like:

"I don't know what would be appropriate, any preferences?"

"Eddie, there's no time or space when pizza is not appropriate."

"What about a funeral?"

"It puts fun in a funeral."

"Touché."

They follow up on a bunch more things. Steve notices Eddie fidgeting and asks him like the mindreader he is if perhaps the place is too clean for him. "Minimalism is what everyone's trying to push," Steve says, not without sympathy, "but it's not for everyone. I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but you seem like a person who'd love a more....personal, cluttered space."

And god, Eddie feels so seen. He tells Steve about all his favorite books and trinkets that he lost during a horrible earthquake in Indiana, so when he moved to the city it was just some clothes and his two guitars. Steve makes so many notes. "I've seen quite a lot of collectibles for your beloved trilogy," he says with a hint of a smile. "Is that something you'd like in your home?" Eddie can't nod any faster.

They talk about the budget (Eddie just scoffs at that, for the first time in his life money is not an issue), Eddie's absolute no go things ("No more vases, please! PLEASE. Also maybe the one room that can stay as it is is the studio, there's no decor"), if he has issues touching any materials, if he wants to keep any areas in the house neutral for visitors (he doesn't). Then finally, he asks Eddie if he wants to be more consulted or surprised.

And Eddie, tired and surprisingly relaxed from talking to Steve, just grins and says: "Surprise me, big boy."

Steve just smirks and makes one more note. "Oh, I will, Eddie."

...

Eddie goes on yet another tour for a couple of months, which is the ideal time for Steve to start working on the house.

Steve sometimes texts Eddie random choices, such as "Rohan or Gondor or both?" or "what's the best pub in the Middle Earth?" and Eddie usually trips over his feet trying to get to his phone after concerts to see if maybe he has another message from Steve. He learns bits and pieces about the man as well - he has a younger brother, Dustin, who is into the same stuff that Eddie is. Sometimes it goes like this:

STEVE: What's the best battle in the LotR movies?

EDDIE: The Ride of the Rohirrim, duh!

STEVE: Dustin says you're wrong, it's the last stand at the gates of Mordor.

EDDIE: The disrespect to king Théoden!

And finally, the big day comes. Eddie meets with Steve at the door. From the outside, the house still looks boring, but that's what they agreed on. At least for now.

But there's one notable difference and Eddie gasps when he sees it.

"I know we said no changes on the outside," said Steve sheepishly, "but I took the liberty to make one slight change."

Where the door used to be bland and white, it is now carved with silver etchings. It replicates the Doors of Durin. Eddie loves it.

Steve smiles at him. "Speak friend and enter, right? Dustin told me. Anyways, are you ready?"

Turns out, Eddie wasn't ready. Steve took all of the shiny and sterile surfaces and turned them into something beautiful.

The kitchen is now in warmer colors, brown and green, imitating the Green Dragon inn, plaque included.

Guest rooms have been changed, each to represent a group or a nation of the Middle Earth. Eddie thinks his uncle will love the Rohirrim one.

No more vases are to be seen, but Steve got potted plants ("almost immortal, as long as your housekeeper waters them once a week or so").

Eddie howls in laughter when he sees that Steve somehow managed to disguise all his security cameras as tiny eyes of Sauron.

The bathroom is inspired by the Rivendell, with soft tones and nods to Elvish architecture.

Eddie's bedroom resembles the Shire, with round shapes and homely motifs.

But Eddie's absolute favorite is the living room.

The only things that remain there that he bought are the massive TV and his stereo system with records. The rest though...

Gone is the ugly and sharp couch that looked like a geometry exercise. The new one is large and comfortable, with a couple of armchairs to finish the cozy feel. The coffee table and TV stand are more rough looking, with decorative ironwork. And then, around the room and on the walls...

"Oh wow," whispers Eddie and Steve beams at him.

There are collectibles and figurines that young Eddie Munson would have killed for. A replica of the Narsil hangs over the TV. It's cluttered but tasteful, still easy to clean, but Eddie always has something to touch, to play with.

And then he spots the bookcase and actually sobs. "What the fuck, Steve?" he asks, but there's no anger, just awe. "How did you know?"

The bookcase is full of Eddie's most beloved books, all that he told Steve about and more, but it's not just that. These aren't just pristine new prints - Steve managed to get both those and well-loved used copies. Most of them are the same editions that Eddie had before the earthquake. He runs his trembling finger over the back of the Hobbit and it feels like home.

"That was the hardest part," says Steve and leaves Eddie to rummage through the books, the old DnD guides and used comic books. "But I assumed you're sick of new and shiny. In fact, most of the collectibles are already used as well. They have some history. As for the books, uh..." He scratches his neck, embarrassed. "I will be honest, I don't read much. Dyslexia and some issues with the eyes, although audio books are making it more possible for me now. So I had to ask Dustin for help. We looked for editions published before the earthquake. I hope we got some of them right?"

Eddie just mutters "Sorry, I'm about to do something really unprofessional now" and pulls Steve into a bear hug. And Steve reciprocates.

"Fuck, this...this is everything," says Eddie into his shoulder. "How did you do this? Are you magic. You must be magic."

Steve grins. "I take it the surprise was a success then?"

Eddie finally pulls back. He would have loved to keep embracing Steve for a bit longer, but boundaries. "A total one. Wow. I mean. It's a lot, but so good. SO GOOD. How can I repay you?"

"You already paid me, Eddie."

"You know what I mean!" Eddie points and the books and apparently also a DVD collection he now owns. "This must have been so much more work than you normally do, no? I doubt every client has you memorize the members of the Fellowship."

"Not just that, but also why Sam is the best," Steve smiles at him and fuck. Eddie might be in love. "It was more than usual, but I loved it, Eddie. That's why I like my job so much, helping people find themselves again. You don't owe me anything. Although, if you're offering..."

"I'm listening."

Steve runs his fingers through that majestic hair. "So, I didn't tell Dustin that I was decorating the house for you, but he's a huge fan of your music. Like, massive, has every album, has been following your career from the start. And feel free to tell me it's too much, you are my client after all, but...he'd love to meet you. Over a pizza, maybe? The plain ham and cheese one you like so it doesn't have too many flavors?"

And Eddie melts. Because Steve still remembers his pizza choice from months ago, even though this definitely wasn't in his notes. He decides there and then that Steven Harrington is a national treasure.

"Sure, big boy," he smiles at Steve, and hopes he didn't imagine Steve leaning into the touch. "How about you invite him over for a movie night or something? With pizza of course."

It looks like Steve could kiss him, but he doesn't. Not yet. That only happens a week later, when they bump into each other in Eddie's kitchen when they scramble to make more popcorn for Dustin.

Steve stays the next night. And maybe a few after that. Always in a different themed bedroom.

They travel for work a lot, but when they are both in Chicago, they always meet in the Green Dragon kitchen, cuddle in the bed that would be far too large for a hobbit, and in the night, Eddie wraps himself around Steve and whispers: "My preciousssss."

And Steve can't really complain, because it's his fault that his boyfriend has re-discovered his dorkiness, so why would he mind?

[hoshifighting]

The Biggest Fanboy

— Synopsis: Sooyoung, a loyal fanboy, expressed his admiration for you, his favorite choreographer through social media and DMs. The dynamic unfolds as you, the choreographer, surprises Sooyoung with a visit to his dance studio. — WC: 6.4K — WARNINGS: Smut, oral (f. and m. receiving), lap dance, dancing sex? Soonyoung is WHIPPED and also a good boy!, unprotected sex, hair pulling, praising, they run away from his studio, intense sex. — Reader! Famous choreographer, Hoshi! Her biggest fanboy, also a dance studio owner

As Y/N, a renowned choreographer with a string of successes in the world of dance, you've always been dedicated to your craft. In the bustling metropolis, your fame has reached unexpected heights, attracting fans from all walks of life. Among them is Kwon Sooyoung, a talented dancer who, to your surprise, happens to be a fanboy of your work.

Sooyoung, the proud owner of a prominent dance studio in the heart of the city, has made his admiration for your choreography evident through social media and interviews. His posts and comments on your platforms are a testament to his genuine appreciation for your artistry. Despite the virtual nature of your interactions, there's a unique connection that has developed between you and Sooyoung over the years.

The dance community buzzes with excitement whenever Sooyoung shares his thoughts about your latest creations. His loyalty is unwavering, and his dreams of meeting you one day are a constant thread in his online presence. The friendly exchanges in your direct messages have become a regular occurrence, and he never misses an opportunity to extend an invitation for you to visit his studio.

One day, with a break in your busy schedule, you decide to surprise Sooyoung and make good on his invitation. The metropolis stretches out before you as you arrive at his studio, a sleek and modern space with glass walls that offer glimpses of dancers in various stages of practice. The energy is palpable as you walk through the hallway, admiring the dedication of those who share the same passion for movement.

The receptionist welcomes you warmly, explaining that Sooyoung is currently teaching a class. She gestures down the hallway, directing you to the last room on the right where you can observe the class in session. As you make your way, the sound of music and the rhythmic beat of dancing feet grow louder.

As you sat on the bench, Sooyoung wrapped up the dance class, you couldn't help but be enchanted by the scene before you. The little girls, with beaming smiles, gathered around him like a flock of eager butterflies drawn to the warmth of his presence. Sooyoung, wearing that bright pink ballet skirt over his black sweatpants with an air of confidence, embodied a perfect blend of professionalism and playfulness.

The music faded, and Sooyoung, with his infectious energy, announced, "It's time to say goodbye, girls!" The children, bubbling with enthusiasm, rushed toward him, calling out, "Uncle Soonyoung!" Your heart warmed as you witnessed the genuine affection they held for him.

One by one, Sooyoung embraced each child, lifting them off the ground and spinning them in his arms. Laughter filled the room as he playfully interacted with each girl, making sure to pat their heads and exchange a few words before letting them go. His genuine care and affection for his young students were palpable.

Observing this heartwarming spectacle, You couldn't help but be captivated by Sooyoung's ability to create a nurturing and joyous environment in his dance studio. The way he effortlessly connected with the children showcased not only his skills as a dancer but also his genuine love for teaching and mentoring.

As the last of the children leave the room, Sooyoung takes a moment to catch his breath and rehydrate. He reaches for a water bottle, taking a sip as he absentmindedly scrolls through his phone, unaware of the surprise awaiting him.

Meanwhile, you stand outside the glass wall, arms crossed, and a wide grin on your face. The anticipation builds as you patiently wait for Sooyoung to look up and notice your presence.

Finally, as if prompted by some invisible cue, Sooyoung's gaze shifts from his phone to the room beyond. His peripheral vision catches a glimpse of your figure, and he does a double-take. The water bottle pauses mid-air as he raises his eyes, and a gasp escapes him. His eyes widen in disbelief, and he chokes on his water at the unexpected sight of you.

Coughing and sputtering, Sooyoung quickly puts down the water bottle, his expression evolving from surprise to sheer excitement. His eyes lock with yours through the glass, and a mix of emotions plays on his face—joy, disbelief, and genuine happiness. His phone slips from his hand, momentarily forgotten as he rushes to the door, his eyes fixed on you. "Y/n?" Oh my goodness, what are you doing here?" Sooyoung stammered. The little girls' earlier cries of 'Uncle Soonyoung' are now replaced by the pulsating beat of your name on his lips. "I never thought you'd actually come." 

"Well, here I am," you answer, you can't help but smile at his reaction, appreciating the sincerity in his voice. "Well, I figured it was about time I took you up on that invitation," you reply with a playful glint in your eyes "your enthusiasm on social media finally convinced me."

Sooyoung laughs, a joyful sound that fills the room. "I can't believe you saw all those fangirl comments and actually decided to visit. This is amazing!" 

You can't help but chuckle at Sooyoung's sudden self-awareness as he glances around, perhaps noticing your gaze lingering on his choice of attire. "I'm sorry, I must look like a mess after the class." He apologizes with a sheepish grin, acknowledging the contrast between the bright pink ballet skirt and the practical black sweatpants. 

"Oh, don't apologize at all," you assure him, your smile widening. "I think it's a bold fashion statement. Shows you're not afraid to have a little fun, even while teaching."

Sooyoung relaxes a bit, the corners of his mouth turning up in relief. "Yeah, it's a little tradition I have with the kids. They love it when I wear something unexpected. Keeps the energy high, you know?"

You nod in understanding, appreciating the effort he puts into creating a lively and enjoyable atmosphere for his students. The vibrant pink skirt becomes a symbol of his dedication and connection with the kids he teaches.

Sooyoung beams with pride, leading you further into the dance studio. "I've been following your work for years, and having you here is like a dream come true for me and the kids."

"Thank you for making the time to come here. My students are going to lose their minds when they find out you're here," he says, excitement evident in his voice.

You wave off his gratitude with a smile, appreciating the genuine excitement in Sooyoung's voice. "It's my pleasure. I've heard so much about your studio, and I couldn't resist seeing it for myself."

As you walk through the vibrant space, the walls echoing with the sounds of laughter and the rhythmic steps of dance, you can feel the energy and passion that permeate the studio. 

"Guess who's here, everyone?" Sooyoung exclaims, and the anticipation in the room builds.

The students exchange curious glances until their eyes fall upon you, the famous choreographer they've likely seen on screens and admired from a distance. The realization dawns on them, and the room buzzes with excitement.

As the students express their awe and gratitude, you find yourself surrounded by a group of enthusiastic young dancers eager to share their experiences and ask questions. Sooyoung watches with pride as the studio transforms into a hub of excitement and inspiration.

"See what I mean?" Sooyoung says to you with a grin.

[...]

As the clock strikes 10 pm, you check your phone and realize it's time to bid farewell to the lively dance studio. Sooyoung, with a hint of disappointment on his face, accepts the announcement that you need to leave. His shoulders sag a bit, reminiscent of a child whose playtime is coming to an end.

"Thank you so much for coming. This means a lot to all of us," Sooyoung expresses his gratitude once again.

You chuckle at his childlike reaction, finding it endearing. "It was my pleasure, Sooyoung. Your studio is truly something special."

As you gather your things to leave, Sooyoung, with a shy yet hopeful expression, hesitates before making a request. "Um, can I... Can I give you a hug?"

His cheeks flush with embarrassment, and you can't help but find his humility charming. You agree with a warm smile, and he practically beams with joy as he wraps his arms around you. Sooyoung seems to forget the world around him for a moment, reveling in the embrace, and he murmurs a heartfelt thank you.

Stepping back, he seizes the opportunity to extend another invitation, this time to the upcoming spring confraternization of the studio on Saturday. Sooyoung's eyes reflect a mix of hope and excitement as he asks, "Would you like to come? It would mean the world to everyone."

You consider the invitation, appreciating the sincerity in his request. "I'll see if I can make it. If my schedule allows, count me in."

Sooyoung's face lights up with joy once again, and he thanks you eagerly. With a final wave, you exit the dance studio, leaving behind a room filled with memories of unexpected surprises, shared laughter, and the promise of a potential reunion at the upcoming spring event.

As you arrive home, your phone buzzes with excitement, and Sooyoung's name lights up on the screen. With a smile, you open the messages to find a delightful spam of photos, capturing the memorable moments you shared at the dance studio. You respond in kind, sharing some of the photos you took, creating a virtual album of the unexpected day.

Sooyoung comments that a fellow dancer from the studio managed to capture some beautiful shots. Anticipation builds as you wait for the photos to download. When the images finally reveal themselves, there's a heartwarming photo of the two of you hugging and another where you're captured mid-laughter.

"We look good," you reply, adding a playful emoji to convey your delight at the captured moments.

Inspired by the joyous memories, you decide to share a sequence of photos from the day on your social media. The last image in the series is the candid shot of you and Sooyoung wrapped in a warm embrace. In the caption, you express your gratitude, acknowledging Sooyoung's kindness and the incredible day you spent at his studio.

"Such a sweetheart! 🌟 Today was absolutely incredible. Thank you for welcoming me so warmly, Sooyoung" you write, accompanied by a heart emoji.

The post quickly garners attention, with friends, fans, and followers expressing their admiration for the dynamic duo and the evident connection between the famous choreographer and the dedicated dance studio owner. 

Sooyoung's excitement reaches new heights as he sees your post on social media, featuring the photos of the two of you hugging. In a burst of enthusiasm, he can't contain himself and immediately shows the post to Seungkwan and Dokyeom, eager to share the unexpected turn of events.

"Guys, look at this!" Sooyoung exclaims, waving his phone at his friends. "Guess who just posted pictures of us hugging?"

Seungkwan and Dokyeom lean in to get a better look, their curiosity piqued. As the images appear on the screen, they exchange amused glances, clearly entertained by the uproar unfolding in the comments section.

"Soonyoung, you sly dog," Dokyeom teases, nudging him playfully. "Looks like her fanbase is having a field day with this."

Seungkwan adds with a grin, "I knew you had a soft spot for each other. The fans are shipping you two hard."

Sooyoung's cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. "I didn't expect this at all. They really think we look like a couple?"

Dokyeom chuckles, "Well, judging by these comments, they're all in for it. Y'all are becoming a thing, apparently."

Seungkwan joins in the laughter, "Who would've thought? Your crush is now the talk of the country, Sooyoung." The three of them share a moment of camaraderie and amusement as they scroll through the comments, witnessing the unexpected frenzy caused by the seemingly innocent hug.

[...]

Sooyoung had been tapping his feet nervously, anticipation building as he awaited your arrival at the studio's spring event. Throughout the week, your conversations had been filled with uncertainties due to your hectic schedule. He hadn't received a confirmation, leaving him on edge, hoping against hope that you'd show up.

He couldn't help but feel a rush of relief and excitement when he caught sight of you walking towards the studio. With a quick glance in the window's reflection, he hastily adjusted his hair and straightened his shirt, hoping to make a good impression.

As you entered, the energy in the room shifted. The circle of people around you buzzed with excitement, eager to engage with the renowned choreographer in their midst. You graciously greeted them, sharing smiles and warm words, soaking in the atmosphere.

But when your gaze finally met Sooyoung's, his heart skipped a beat. Your bright smile was like a ray of sunshine, and as the crowd parted, you made your way toward him. The circle of people hushed, giving the two of you a moment.

You embraced Sooyoung in a warm hug, and his nerves melted away in that instant. "I'm so glad I could make it," you said softly.

Sooyoung, feeling a rush of emotions, stammered slightly, "I-I can't believe you're here. I mean, I hoped, but... wow."

You chuckled at his flustered reaction, deciding to playfully tease him. "Were you worried I wouldn't show up?"

He blushed, a mix of embarrassment and joy coloring his cheeks. "I, uh, well... maybe a little. It's just... it means a lot that you came."

"Well, you did invite me, didn't you? Couldn't let you down, especially with all these fans waiting to see us together."

Sooyoung, reveling in the playful banter, smirks mischievously in response to your comment. "Oh, I see how it is," he teases, feigning mock offense. "I thought you came just for my dazzling dance moves, not to please the fans." He winks, his tone light and full of humor, "Guess I'll have to step up my game then, huh?"

You raise an eyebrow playfully, your eyes shifting to the big TV across the room where a video from Sooyoung's YouTube channel plays, showcasing his impeccable dance skills to a sensual song. With a sly grin, you suggest, "Maybe you can show me all those dazzling dance moves... when we're alone."

Sooyoung, catching on to the playful tone, licks his lips with a suggestive smirk. "Oh, trust me," he replies, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I've got a whole private playlist of moves that haven't made it to YouTube yet. Maybe you'll get an exclusive performance sometime."

In a whispered tease, you say, "Maybe you can give me a private lesson in those unreleased moves later. I'm curious to see if they're as impressive as you claim."

Your sultry suggestion catches Sooyoung off guard, and he sharply inhales, his eyes widening slightly at the unexpected turn in the conversation. "Well, if you're up for it, maybe I'll have to give you a sneak peek right here, right now," he whispers back, his breath warm against your ear.

As you spot Sooyoung's car in the garage, you turn to him with a playful grin. "Are you seriously going to ditch the event like this?" you inquire, raising an eyebrow.

Sooyoung, clicking the car key with a confident smirk, glances at you with a hint of mischief. "Who cares about the event when I can have you all to myself?" he responds, his tone carrying a touch of naughtiness.

His carefree attitude about leaving the event behind to have an intimate moment with you adds to the excitement. The sound of the car unlocking becomes a signal for your private escape. 

As you settle into Sooyoung's car, the city lights casting a soft glow on the interior, you turn to him with a teasing smile. "So, why exactly do you want to have me all to yourself?" you ask, raising an eyebrow in playful curiosity.

Sooyoung glances at you, his eyes holding a mischievous spark. "Well," he begins, his tone playfully contemplative, "I thought it'd be a shame to waste such a perfect night on anyone else when I could have your undivided attention."

 "Someone's being a bit greedy, wanting me all to themselves. Don't you know how to share?"

Sooyoung, without missing a beat, smirks and replies, "Well, when it comes to you, I don't mind being a little selfish. Can you blame me?"

With a sly grin, you lean in a little closer, your voice taking on a more suggestive tone. "Well, if you're going to be greedy, you better be prepared to handle all of me," you tease, letting the implication hang in the air.

Sooyoung, caught off guard by the unexpected boldness, feels a rush of heat. He glances at you with widened eyes, a mix of surprise and desire evident on his face. The atmosphere in the car becomes charged with a different kind of energy, and you can sense the playful banter taking a more flirtatious turn. Your naughty answer has the desired effect, making Sooyoung's mind race with anticipation as the city lights continue to flicker outside the car window.

As the car comes to a stop at a red signal, you feel Sooyoung's gaze lingering on the exposed skin of your thighs. Sensing his desire, you catch his eye and decide to playfully escalate the teasing. With the tip of your fingers, you subtly pull up the hem of your dress, revealing more of your legs.

Sooyoung, his eyes now fixed on the provocative sight, glances up to meet yours. His gaze darkens with desire, and he inhales sharply. "If you keep teasing me like this," he murmurs, his voice low and filled with a mixture of lust and anticipation, "I can't guarantee I'll be able to wait until we get somewhere."

With a sly smile, you respond to Sooyoung's suggestive remark, "I think I'd prefer a bit more space than a car. Besides, there are some moves I want to show you that might not be suitable for the back seat."

Sooyoung's eyes light up with a mix of excitement and curiosity as he hears your response. "Well, now you've got my attention. What kind of moves are we talking about here?" he asks, a playful grin playing on his lips.

You maintain the sly smile, enjoying the playful banter between you two. "Oh, you'll just have to wait and see. I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise," you reply, your tone teasing and suggestive.

"Well, then," he says, the anticipation evident in his voice, "where do you suggest we go? I'm up for a little adventure."

Sooyoung's grin widens as you suggest, "How about we continue this adventure at my place?"

His eyes light up with excitement, and he nods in agreement. "Sounds like a plan" he replies, his voice carrying a playful yet eager tone. 

You slide your hands to his thigh, a subtle yet unmistakable signal guiding him towards your house. Sooyoung, his mind still buzzing from the teasing and the charged atmosphere, follows your lead.

He turns the car, the familiar quarter of your apartment passing by once again. The combination of the tantalizing proximity and your hand inching higher on his thigh has Sooyoung's concentration wavering. The city lights outside blur as he navigates the familiar route, the rhythm of the car reflecting the heightened pulse of the night.

In the confined space of the elevator, Sooyoung locks eyes with you from across the corner. A charged atmosphere fills the air as the anticipation reaches its peak. With a swift move, Sooyoung steps closer, his eyes conveying an undeniable desire.

Without a word, he surprises you with a passionate tongue kiss, the sudden intensity catching you off guard. His lips meet yours in a heated embrace, and you can feel the hunger in the way he kisses, a mix of desire and urgency. Sooyoung's hands grip you tightly, pulling you closer as the elevator continues its ascent.

As the elevator door opens, you pull Sooyoung with you, still lost in the fervor of the kiss. The two of you stumble towards your apartment door, the intensity of the moment propelling you forward. The keys tremble in your hands as you fumble to unlock the door, the urgency building with each passing second.

Finally, the door swings open, and you practically run inside, eager to feel Sooyoung's lips on yours again. You turn around, your back against the door, your bodies pressed together. Sooyoung wastes no time, and his lips find their way to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that sends shivers down your spine.

With a subtle yet assertive move, you pull Sooyoung by the hem of his shirt, guiding him towards your room. The anticipation between you two continues to grow, and you have a plan in mind. Once in your room, you reach for your phone, intending to set the mood with a carefully chosen song.

After selecting the perfect track, you toss your phone onto the desk and turn your attention back to Sooyoung. With a teasing smile, you guide him to sit on the bed.

Sooyoung, unable to resist the alluring rhythm of your hips moving in sync with the music, bites his lip in a gesture of both desire and restraint. A moan escapes him, his eyes narrowing with intensity as he gazes at you. His furrowed eyebrows and fluttering eyes betray a mixture of longing and arousal, the unspoken connection between you becoming increasingly palpable.

As the music continues to play, creating a sultry backdrop to the scene, Sooyoung lays on his elbows, his eyes locked onto you with a mix of desire and anticipation. Sensing the connection between you two, you decide to take control, and you hover over him, creating an intimate space between your bodies.

You lift your hips up and down, the rhythm of the motion syncing with the music. He can feel your pussy bumping into his dick on purpose when you swing your ass above his bulge. 

Sooyoung, captivated by the intimate dance and the connection between you two, lets out a low, throaty whisper, his voice dripping with desire. "You're driving me crazy," he confesses, his words revealing the intensity of the sensations that course through him.

His gaze remains locked onto you, a mixture of admiration and longing in his eyes. As the music weaves its way around the room, his hands find a gentle yet firm place on your hips, following the rhythm you've set. The unspoken language of desire fills the air, and in this intimate moment, Sooyoung's words echo the emotions that swirl between you, creating a soundtrack to the shared experience unfolding in the dimly lit room.

The room is filled with a charged silence as you take the hem of your dress and pull it up, revealing yourself naked to Sooyoung. His eyes widen in surprise, and a sharp inhale escapes him as his mouth slightly opens, captivated by the sight before him. The dim lighting accentuates the contours of your figure, casting a sensual glow on the intimate moment.

Sooyoung's eyes widen even further in chock as he realizes you're wearing nothing underneath the dress adds another layer of intensity to the moment. 

A soft moan escapes your lips, a natural response to the electrifying contact between his pants and your exposed cunt. The fabric creates a tantalizing friction on your clit, adding a layer of intensity to the sensual dance.

Sooyoung, attuned to your reactions, registers the moan with a mixture of satisfaction and heightened desire. His hands, still firmly placed on your hips, tighten slightly in response to the shared sensations, pulling you closer and pressing you firmly against his bulge.

As Sooyoung takes off his shirt, revealing a sculpted and toned physique, he starts to dance his hips, swaying with a rhythm that mirrors the sultry music playing in the background. The tactile sensation of Sooyoung's rough jeans against your pussy adds a heightened dimension to the dance of desire. The fabric, brushing against you with every movement, creates a tantalizing friction that further amplifies your pleasure.

In the intimate setting, you look into Sooyoung's eyes and, with a sultry tone, express your longing, "Sooyoung-ah, I want more. I want you so bad."

His thumb runs through your folds, then he starts circling your clit, your knees shaking with the sudden contact of his warm skin. Sooyoung, still teasing with his skilled fingers, leans in and asks in a sultry whisper, "Do you really want me?" His question hangs in the air, the room filled with a charged anticipation. Without waiting for a verbal response, he plants a series of sensual kisses along the valley of your breasts.

Feeling the intensity of the moment, you grip Sooyoung's hair firmly, making him hiss. His eyes meet yours, a mix of surprise and desire evident in his gaze. With a sense of urgency, Sooyoung speeds up his actions in response to your moans, each movement adding to the crescendo of desire in the room.

Sooyoung, driven by the escalating desire, pulls you to the edge of the bed. He kneels on the floor, his gaze locking with yours from below. The change in perspective adds an extra layer of intensity to the moment. Your breath catches as Sooyoung's mouth works its magic, each touch and caress sending waves of pleasure through your body. Clit being sucked and flicked with his warm tongue, making you scream his name. 

Sooyoung, immersed in the task at hand, closes his eyes, dedicating himself to giving you pleasure. His focused demeanor showcases his commitment, as if it's a ride-or-die mission. You run your fingers gently along his cheek, appreciating the dedication he puts into the moment. A soft laugh escapes you as you observe how intensely he's focused.

With a teasing tone, you praise him, "Soonyoun-gie, you're doing so well for me, such a good boy, the best boy." The words find their way into his consciousness, and his cheeks flush with a delightful shade of red. The combination of your praises and the pleasure he's providing creates a potent mix of sensations on him making him moan, vibrations sent straight to your clit.

As the rhythm of your lungs speeds up, breathing becoming fast and erratic, Sooyoung keenly notices the heightened intensity. In response, he speeds up, gripping your thighs tighter with a determined glare. The acceleration of his movements pushes you to the edge, and the climax arrives with an intensity that takes you by surprise. 

As you catch your breath, Sooyoung's gaze meets yours with a satisfaction, and he rises from his kneeling position, a satisfied and content expression on his face. The dimly lit room is filled with a post-climactic tranquility as you catch your breath.

Sooyoung, still close, brushes a gentle kiss against your forehead, a tender gesture that adds to the intimacy of the moment. The air is thick with a shared connection, and a comfortable silence envelops the room.

With a playful glint in your eyes, you suggest, "You deserve a reward," as you notice Sooyoung's pants growing tighter. He chuckles nervously, attempting to decline the offer, "No, no, no need to. I'm satisfied."

Ignoring his protests, you proceed to unbutton his jeans, your hands working with a deliberate intent on his hard dick. "I swear, Y/N-nie, I-I'm already too-" As your touch intensifies, Sooyoung's words begin to slow down until they get lost in the growing tension. His breath becomes heavier against your neck, the room filled with the palpable anticipation of the next shared experience.

In the quiet, intimate space between you and Sooyoung, his protests become muffled breaths against your neck as your hands continue their skillful exploration. As you work your magic, Sooyoung's resistance dissolves, replaced by a growing need. He breathes heavily against your neck, words escaping him in fragmented whispers. "I... I didn't expect this... you're too much," he stammers.

Amused by Sooyoung's sincerity, you praise him once again, "You deserve it, you know. You made me feel so good." As you swing your feet, a playful expression on your face, you continue, "And it's not just about me. You should enjoy it too."

Sooyoung, still catching his breath, shakes his head, a content smile playing on his lips. "I'm already satisfied, honestly. Just seeing you like that, hearing you... it's more than enough. I dreamt about that," he admits, his eyes reflecting a mixture of satisfaction and a touch of vulnerability.

You can't help but find it endearing, his selflessness in the pursuit of your pleasure. "You're too good, Sooyoung-ah," you say, a teasing glint in your eyes.

In response to your teasing, Sooyoung chuckles nervously, "I-I'm fine, really. No need for anything else." However, you can sense a subtle curiosity in his eyes, a desire to explore further.

With a playful grin, you lean in closer, your breath warm against his ear. "Are you sure?" you whisper, your voice carrying a hint of mischief. "I can make your dreams come true too, Sooyoung-ah."

His cheeks flush slightly, a mix of embarrassment and anticipation. "Well, maybe just a little," he admits, his gaze meeting yours with a shy smile.

As Sooyoung gets free from the rest of his clothes, he watches you approach his cock with a mixture of anticipation and nervous excitement. His breath becomes shakier, and he confesses, "I think I'm going to lose my mind."

A mischievous smile plays on your lips as you respond, "That's exactly what I want, Sooyoung-ah." Your words add a layer of playful tension to the room, and you continue to pump his dick with a deliberate touch.

Sooyoung sulks slightly, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure washing over him. He mutters, "This is too much," but his body betrays him, responding to your every touch.

As the exploration continues, Sooyoung's sulking demeanor begins to transform into a mixture of pleasure and surrender. Your skilled touch elicits soft moans from him.

Despite his initial protests, Sooyoung's body responds eagerly to your every move. 

You pause amidst the intimate exchange, a soft smile gracing your lips as you ask, "Are you always this shy?" starting to pump him again.

Sooyoung, his cheeks still flushed, chuckles softly and replies, "No, it's not usually like this. I guess it's just... you."

You raise an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Me? What did I do to make you so shy, Sooyoung-ah?"

He shrugs playfully, a shy smile lingering on his lips. "I don't know. You just have this effect on me, I guess." he replies as he watches you getting down.

As your mouth wraps around Sooyoung's cock, he gasps loudly, arching his back in response to the unexpected pleasure. His mumbles become a symphony of fragmented words and hushed expressions of pleasure.

"Oh, woah," he gasps, fingers tangling in your hair. "T-that feels... amazing," he stammers, his voice catching between breaths. Incoherent whispers escape him as the sensations ripple through his body.

You feel his rapid heartbeat beneath your touch, his mumbles a testament to the overwhelming pleasure he's experiencing. 

Sooyoung can't help but vocalize his pleasure when his tip hits the back of your throat, making a dripping mess around his cock, and then coming back, licking the head with flickering licks. 

Sooyoung, caught in the throes of pleasure, finds himself reaching the peak of ecstasy. The grip on your hair tightens, a mixture of desire and urgency. His moans become more pronounced, blending with your own shared sounds of passion.

"Ah, sorry," he manages to mumble between moans, his voice husky with desire. He loosens his grip, his fingers now gently caressing your scalp as an apology. However, you find the roughness oddly pleasurable, and it only adds to the heightened atmosphere. 

His words continue to be a mix of apologies and incoherent expressions of pleasure. "Didn't mean to," he whispers, but his actions betray his sincerity.

As Sooyoung reaches his peak of pleasure, his grip tightens momentarily before his body tenses with the release. He makes a mess, his breath hitching with the intensity of the moment. His chin lifts, and he throws his head back, a guttural moan escaping his lips.

The room is filled with the aftermath of shared ecstasy, the air heavy with a mix of passion and satisfaction. Sooyoung's body relaxes, and he breathes heavily, the waves of pleasure slowly subsiding.

After the intensity of the moment, you lean in to kiss Sooyoung, sharing the intimate taste of the aftermath. Your lips linger on his, and then you trail kisses across his cheeks, coaxing him back to the present.

As he slowly returns from the depths of ecstasy, you look into his eyes and softly ask, "Are you good, Sooyoung?"

Unable to formulate words, Sooyoung responds with a deep, satisfied moan. His body, still humming with the echoes of pleasure, communicates a sense of contentment that transcends spoken language.

As Sooyoung starts to regain consciousness, he begins to kiss your neck with a newfound awareness. The intimate act sends shivers down your spine, and you can feel his growing desire pressing against you.

His lips linger on your neck, and in the sultry atmosphere, you playfully remark, "Feeling more awake now, Sooyoung-ah?"

Sooyoung, his voice laced with desire, responds, "Very awake, especially here," as he gently emphasizes his growing arousal.

A mischievous glint in your eyes, you tease, "Should we change positions, or are you comfortable like this?"

Sooyoung, unable to resist the playful banter, grins, "I think a change of scenery would be nice. What do you have in mind?" 

As the dynamics shift, Sooyoung now on top of you, his gaze filled with attentiveness, you look up at him with a playful yet commanding glint in your eyes. With a sly smile, you order, "Sooyoung-ah, show me your best moves. Dance for me."

His eyes widen with surprise, a mix of curiosity and excitement playing on his features.

Sooyoung, embracing the challenge with enthusiasm, focuses on the intimate performance. The music playing in the background becomes a subtle soundtrack to the dance unfolding between you two. He pushes only his tip, making you look at him with hooded eyes, biting your lip. 

As Sooyoung hovers over you, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and concern for your comfort, he softly asks, "How do you want it, slowly or all in at once?"

You pause for a moment, meeting his gaze with a playful yet anticipatory expression. "Surprise me," you respond, your voice filled with a hint of excitement.

As Sooyoung fulfills your request and enters all at once, a gasp escapes your lips, quickly turning into a passionate scream of his name. The room resonates with the intensity of the moment, the sound of your voice echoing through the intimate space.

Sooyoung, captivated by the raw and unrestrained pleasure he evoked, finds himself amazed. The realization that his biggest inspiration is screaming his name in the most explicit way adds a layer of ecstasy to the experience. 

As Sooyoung begins to roll his hips, his hands exploring every inch of your body, the dance takes on a new rhythm. The synchronization of his movements with the subtle beats of the song transforms the room into a private stage.

His hips meet yours in a rhythmic dance, circling and rolling in a slow and deliberate motion. Each movement sends waves of pleasure through your body, making your toes curl with the intoxicating sensation.

Sooyoung starts to pick up the pace, his movements becoming faster and more fervent. The connection deepens as he feels you tightening around him, a telltale sign of shared ecstasy.

Sooyoung, balancing on the edge of the bed, moans with a mixture of pleasure and a hint of surrender. "Right there," you cry out, his name escaping your lips. Sensing the impending climax, you encourage him with breathless urgency, "Don't stop, Sooyoung, don't you dare stop." Sooyoung, his voice strained with desire, responds, "I won't stop, not until you're fully satisfied."

As Sooyoung continues his passionate rhythm, each thrust hitting that exquisite spot with precision, the intensity builds. The pleasure becomes almost overwhelming, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes as your body tenses in response.

Then, in a wave of ecstasy, you reach the climax. Your body arches, and a torrent of pleasure courses through you, wetting both him and the bed. The room echoes with the sounds of your moans, and your body stretches in a blissful release, forming a perfect "O."

As Sooyoung witnesses the physical and emotional intensity etched across your face — the tightness around him, your shaky knees, and the continuous symphony of moans — a profound realization hits him. The sheer pleasure, the uncontrollable reactions, it's all because of him.

Overwhelmed by the sight before him, he succumbs to the intensity of the moment. His moans become a mantra of your name, a vocal expression of the pleasure coursing through him.

Your bodies are locked in a passionate embrace, and Sooyoung, on the precipice of climax, finally reaches the peak. He fills you up, the room resonating with the echoes of shared ecstasy, the culmination of a dance that transcended physicality.

In the aftermath of shared pleasure, Sooyoung, overwhelmed by a surge of emotions, tightens his embrace as if cherishing the moment. His arms envelop you as if it were the last time you'd be together in such an intimate space.

You, equally caught in the emotional currents, caress his hair tenderly, planting gentle kisses on his cheek. The room becomes a haven for shared vulnerability, a sanctuary where physical and emotional intimacy converge.

"I've admired you for so long, and now, being with you like this, it feels surreal."

You gently tease Sooyoung, noting his sentiment, "You're acting like this is our last moment together."

He raises his shoulder in a playful shrug, a hint of uncertainty in his expression. "I... I don't know what happens next."

Your tone softens with a playful reassurance, "Relax, it's not the end. In fact, I want to do this again. Maybe 200 times in every corner of my house."

Sooyoung's eyes widen in pleasant surprise at your suggestion. "200 times? That's... quite a lot," he stammers, caught off guard by the playful proposal.

You chuckle at his reaction, enjoying the playful banter. "I'm just kidding. But I definitely wouldn't mind doing this again."

The room fills with a light-hearted atmosphere, the tension easing into a comfortable and playful exchange. Sooyoung, recovering from the initial surprise, raises an eyebrow in playful curiosity. "Does that number also include the rounds?"

You chuckle, shaking your head, "No, no. The rounds are not included in that count. But speaking of rounds, how about a round two in the bathroom?"

Sooyoung, now grinning, responds with a hint of mischief, "Bathroom, huh? That sounds intriguing. Lead the way."

[helioooss]

hard times, part two

synopsis: years after you closed the door on mina, you find each other again.

w/c: 10k+

warnings: very emotional, mentions of death, read at your own risk. i actually cried???

a/n: long wait is over! i won’t be posting for awhile after this. i appreciate all your little messages and i promise i am reading them. <3

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

four years since the scandal that blew up across every headline, the breakup that shattered you from the inside out, and the decision to walk away from your old life in seoul. you had been a music producer once, someone who had built a career alongside some of the biggest names in the industry. that was where you met mina. where you fell in love.

that was another lifetime ago.

now, your days are quieter — simpler. the sound of waves crashing against the shore is a far cry from the constant hum of seoul’s streets, and the steady rhythm of stacking books at the small shop you work at is comforting in a way that music never was after everything fell apart.

in australia, you found solace in routine, in the ordinary. you surf in the mornings and work at the bookstore in the afternoons.

you glance out the window of the shop as the afternoon sun paints golden streaks across the pavement. it’s peaceful here, far from the noise, the cameras, the attention. this life you’ve built for yourself is so far removed from the person you used to be that sometimes it feels like a dream — or perhaps, a carefully constructed escape.

but no matter how far you run, some ghosts never leave.

mina was that ghost.

there isn’t a day that goes by when you don’t think about her, even if it’s just in the smallest, quietest moments. the way she used to hold you close, her smile when it was just the two of you, and how she used to look at you like you were her entire world.

it had been that way for years; you always thought nothing could ever shake it.

then came jeno; a rising star. someone famous and adored, somebody from her world. it was supposed to be a fake relationship — the kind idols are pushed into for publicity, but somewhere along the way, lines blurred. you watched as the person you loved slipped away, piece by piece, until the truth came crashing down.

she fell in love with him. you weren’t enough. that’s what your mind always circled back to in the darkest hours. she chose fame, chose him, over you.

the only option left for you was to leave. not just her, but the entire world that reminded you of her; of what you had and what you lost.

it really wasn’t until a few weeks ago that the past began creeping back into your life. after years of silence, you finally posted a picture on instagram — just a shot of the ocean and a surfboard, nothing significant. you weren’t thinking about who might see it, or what it might stir up. yet somehow, some way, it reached your old friends…the ones you had blocked and unblocked every now and then.

one by one, they knocked on your walls. small at first. jeongyeon commenting on the post using her private account, a simple “living the life i see” followed by a string of heart emojis. then sana, a message asking if you were still in australia and which city. dahyun, always the most straightforward, just sent, it’s been too long. let’s catch up.

uncertainty filled your mind, you weren’t sure how to respond. after all, you cut them off when you left. not because you didn’t care about them, but because staying in touch with anyone from that part of your life hurt too much.

there was something in their messages, something familiar and warm that made you hesitate. four years was a long time, and you missed them. maybe more than you wanted to admit.

so you replied, one by one.

a wine bar somewhere in fitzroy, just a few days before their concert at rod laver arena. they flew you out of brisbane and you almost backed out at the last second, nerves twisting in your stomach as you stood outside hope street radio.

what if things weren’t the same?

after heaving out a sigh, you decided to get it over and done with. however, the moment you stepped inside and saw them all sitting around the table, all your worries evaporated. jeongyeon waved you over, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way she almost knocked over her coffee in her excitement.

you felt like a kid again.

“y/n!” sana’s voice rang out, bright and cheerful, pulling you into a tight hug the moment you reached the table. “it’s been so long!”

you laughed, hugging her back as tzuyu slid over to make room for you. “i know. sorry about that.”

“don’t be,” nayeon said, her voice softer than usual but still carrying that familiar edge of mischief. “we miss you, that’s all.”

a moment of silence settled over the table, the weight of unspoken words filling the air. it wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was a heaviness to it. they all knew what happened, even if you never spoke about it in detail. you didn’t have to. they had been there, watching as everything crumbled.

“so,” jihyo broke the silence with a grin, “what’s australia like? other than the killer spiders and, you know, surfing every day by the looks of you?”

“just make sure you don’t let the barking spiders and drop bears get to you,” you nudged at chaeyoung and she did the same; as if the years hadn’t created mountains between you all.

you chuckled, the tension breaking as you launched into a lighthearted conversation about your new life.

“how did you even get to surfing, like, what?” dahyun asked, a hint of jealousy in her voice. “i’ve never even seen you jump in a pool!”

“ahh, well, it started when my roommates decided to take me beach camping with. we drove around the country just to surf. i eventually picked up the hobby and —“

“the sharks, y/n!” momo chimed in, face frightened and all.

this made you laugh as you shook your head. “honestly, they’re not that bad. we get alerts for them all the time and some are even tagged so we can track them ourselves.”

“what are drop bears?”

the smile on your face disappeared. “they’re the worst, never ever look up when you’re hiking through gumtrees…they spy on their prey real good.”

“there goes my dream of hiking under fifty degree heat in australia,” jeongyeon rolled her eyes. “not.”

the jokes started rolling in, and soon enough, it felt like no time had passed at all. you talked about your friends, your quiet life at the bookstore, the peacefulness of the ocean. they talked about their tour, the chaos of their schedules, the craziness of being in the western spotlight.

but there was one name that none of you mentioned.

mina.

as the hours passed, you found yourself relaxing, giggling with them like you used to, the bond between you all still strong despite the years apart. it was bittersweet, yes, but it was also healing in a way you didn’t expect.

“you should come to the concert,” momo suggested at one point, her eyes bright with excitement. “it’s in two days and we’d love to see you there.”

you hesitated, a frown etched on your face. “i don’t think that’d be a good idea, she will be there.”

“she doesn’t have to know,” sana cut in quickly. “she won’t even notice. she’s been…in her own world lately.”

you glanced between them, the unspoken understanding passing between you all. you weren’t sure if you were ready to face mina again. not after everything. but you missed them. missed the connection you had with them, missed being a part of something bigger than yourself.

“pretty please, y/n?”

“okay,” you finally agreed, earning a round of cheers and laughter from the girls.

it felt right, but underneath it all, there was still that pain, the part that wasn’t sure how you’d handle seeing her again after so long.

meanwhile, not too far away from you, mina sat alone in her hotel room; staring mindlessly at her phone. the girls had all gone out for dinner but she stayed back like she has done for years now — harbouring herself away from everyone day by day.

she had tried so many times to reach out to you. after you left, after everything fell apart, she had tried. your friends and family — they shut her out. they still loved her, they told her as much, but they respected your decision to move on, to start over without her. she couldn’t blame them.

after all, she was the one who ruined everything.

jeno had been a mistake from the start. what was supposed to be a fake relationship, something for the cameras, turned into something that crossed lines mina didn’t even realise she had crossed until it was too late. she thought she could handle both. thought she could keep you and the life she had in the public eye, but it had all fallen apart in her hands.

she had lost you — the only person who ever truly mattered.

and for what? a fleeting moment of fame? a shallow relationship that meant nothing?

she regretted it every day.

the past four years without you had been a blur of schedules and stages, but none of it felt real anymore. without you, she was lost. fame wasn’t worth it without you by her side. none of it was.

and now, as she stared at her phone, scrolling through old messages she never sent, she wondered if you ever thought about her the way she thought about you. probably not. you had moved on, hadn’t you? you were probably happy now, living a life she could never be a part of.

then, a message popped up on her screen. it was from jihyo in their group chat.

and it was about you.

mina’s heart skipped a beat as she read the messages popping up one by one, the words sinking in slowly.

jihyo: we all just met up with y/n…and we all decided you deserved to know that she is okay.

tzuyu: yeah she’s looking real good 😊

momo: extremely good looking and even funnier too minari. aged like fine wine

mina frowned, remembering how her members used to tease her in the same way, any chance they got. she wasn’t annoyed at them, no, she missed it.

you were in australia. you had been here, all this time. and now, you were going to be at the concert.

she dropped her phone, panic setting in. she hadn’t seen you in years. what would she say? how would she even face you after what she did?

her mind raced, and for the first time in years, she felt like she was suffocating under the weight of her own decisions. you were so close, and yet so far away.

before she knew it, her thumb clicked on the call button in their group chat. it rang twice…and nayeon’s voice came out of the other line.

“how?” was the first thing that came out of mina’s lips, equal yelling and trembling at. “why didn’t you tell me? otherwise i would’ve come to dinner!”

“mina, please be calmer,” nayeon sighed. “we’re on our way back to the hotel now.”

mina’s fingers shook, anxiety rushing through every vein in her body. “where…where is she?”

“she’s staying at a hotel not too far from the city, we had to fly her out from the gold coast where she actually lives.”

“does she hate me still? does she know i’ve been looking for her everywhere?”

there was stunned silence from the other end, each of the girls not knowing what to say to mina.

“i…” jihyo began, but paused. “we will come to your room in a few minutes, okay? and y/n bought tim tams for you and thinks you might like it.”

mina smiled, her chest feeling warm. at least you remembered, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to face the consequences of what she had done.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the night of the concert arrived, and you stood at the edge of the crowd with one of your friends, taylor, by your side. the energy in the arena was electric, fans cheering and chanting as the lights dimmed and the music began. some even recognised you from back in the days.

taylor nudged you, a grin on her face as she said, “didn’t realise they were this popular.”

you laughed, but it was strained. “trust me, it can get worst than this.”

“and you used to produce for and are friends with these girls?” taylor raised an eyebrow. “who would’ve fucking thought, hey?”

“yep,” you responded, dragging the ‘p’. “eventually, you’re going to find out things about me, so be prepared.”

she said something else, but your thoughts were elsewhere. you scanned the stage, searching for familiar faces, but part of you hoped you wouldn’t see her.

and then, the lights hit the stage, and there she was.

mina.

your breath caught in your throat as you saw her for the first time in four years. she looked different, yet the same. her hair was longer, her expression more guarded; the only thing left was that same spark in her eyes. the one you used to know so well.

when her eyes swept over the crowd, there was a flicker of panic. like she was searching for something — or someone.

you hadn’t prepared yourself to feel all of this again — the rush of memories, the hurt, the betrayal, and something deeper that you thought had disappeared over time.

seeing mina in person, after all these years, was like reopening a wound you thought had healed.

taylor watched you from the corner of her eye, concern flickering across her face, but she didn’t say anything. she didn’t know the whole story, and you weren’t sure you could tell her even if you tried.

on stage, mina moved like she always had —graceful, confident, yet something was off. she kept glancing into the crowd, her eyes scanning over the fans with an almost frantic energy. it was like she was looking for someone. you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stay still, but your heart was racing in your chest.

and then, for just a split second, her eyes landed on you.

she froze.

you saw the way her expression changed, how her face paled as if she had seen a ghost. it was like time stopped for both of you. the cheers of the crowd faded into the background, and all you could focus on was the look of shock — and something else in her eyes; regret?

you didn’t know what to feel. a part of you wanted to turn around and leave, to run from the confrontation you knew was coming. but another part of you, the part that still remembered how it felt to love her, couldn’t look away.

before you could make a decision, the other girls must have noticed.

jeongyeon and sana exchanged glances, and you saw them subtly maneuvering mina away from the edge of the stage, trying to shield her from the crowd — and from you. they knew. they knew this was too much for her, that seeing you after all this time was breaking her composure.

you felt a pang of guilt. you hadn’t come here to make her uncomfortable. you came to see your old friends, to support them, not to stir up old wounds. but mina…mina was unraveling right in front of you.

taylor leaned in closer, her voice low so as not to disturb the people around you. “is everything okay? you look like you’ve seen a ghost and that pretty girl does too.”

you forced a smile, shaking your head. “i’m fine. just…memories…she’s my ex-girlfriend.”

she didn’t press further, and you were grateful for that. but the tension in your body didn’t ease as the concert went on. every time mina moved, you could feel her glancing in your direction, her discomfort radiating across the stage.

“she must be in love with you still, huh?” taylor nudged your arm gently, trying to lighten up the mood.

“maybe.”

she was barely performing anymore, just going through the motions as her eyes searched for you in the sea of faces. every time she found you, her expression tightened.

it was the weight of four years without closure crashing down on her.

by the end of the concert, you felt emotionally drained. you hadn’t expected it to hit you this hard. as the final song “move” played and the lights dimmed, you considered slipping out before anyone had a chance to come, to avoid the inevitable confrontation.

before you could move, their managers, the ones that were always friendly with you, were suddenly at your side; ushering you towards the back entrance with smiles that didn’t quite reach their eyes.

taylor shot you a questioning look, but you just waved her off. “i’ll explain later,” you mumbled. “this is complicated.”

she shrugged, clearly confused, but didn’t ask any more questions. “i’d rather meet you outside, at a pub, then. take your time, i don’t wanna impose.”

“are you sure you don’t wanna join me?”

“i’m sure, mate,” she smiled, giving you a thumbs up. “too big for my little world, y’know?”

you nodded, your heart racing, and followed them without protest.

as you were led backstage, the weight of everything you’d been avoiding for four years pressed down on you. this used to be your world, ran these shows like a maniac. you hadn’t wanted to come back to this, not after what she did.

yet now that you were here, you couldn’t stop the flood of emotions that threatened to drown you.

the hallway backstage was buzzing with activity —managers and staff moving around in a whirlwind of post-concert chaos. all of that blurred into the background as tzuyu appeared out of a room and guided you to a quieter area, away from the noise with only just her.

“she saw you,” tzuyu said quietly once you were alone, her eyes full of concern. “she hasn’t been the same all night.”

you swallowed hard, feeling the guilt gnaw at you again. “i didn’t mean for this to happen. i didn’t even know if i should come.”

tzuyu sighed softly. “you know how much you mean to her, right? even after everything?”

you looked away, the ache in your chest growing. “then why did she hurt me?”

“it was a mistake,” tzuyu said, her voice gentle but firm. “a stupid, terrible mistake. but it wasn’t because she didn’t love you.”

you didn’t know how to respond to that. for so long, you had convinced yourself that mina had chosen jeno because you weren’t enough. that you, the quiet producer working behind the scenes, could never compete with someone famous, someone who could give her everything.

it had been the root of your insecurity, the thing that haunted you long after you left.

before you could say anything else, the door to the room opened, and there she was.

mina — she sitting on the couch with her head down her palms, surrounded by all the other girls.

she looked fragile, more so than you had ever seen her. the confidence she usually carried on stage was gone, replaced by an overwhelming sadness. the moment she looked up at you, her bloodshot eyes were wide, it was like she couldn’t breathe.

“y/n,” her voice was barely a whisper, but it sent a jolt through you. hearing her say your name in the tone after all these years felt like a punch to the gut.

you stood there, frozen, unsure of what to do. all the anger, the hurt, the longing — it all surged up at once, and you didn’t know how to handle it.

mina took a tentative step forward, her eyes pleading you to say something, anything.

and you couldn’t.

you could feel the other girls staring, their presence a quiet reminder that this moment was fragile. the air between you and mina was thick with everything unsaid.

“i…i didn’t know you would be here,” mina stammered, her voice shaking. “i didn’t think i’d ever see you again.”

“i didn’t plan on it,” you finally managed to say, your voice hoarse. “i came to see them. not you.”

mina flinched, but she didn’t back away. instead, she took another step forward, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “i’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “for everything, for hurting you, for…for losing you like that.”

you shook your head, trying to keep your emotions in check. “it’s been four years, mina. four years since you left me for someone else. what more could you want from me?”

“i know,” mina chocked out, hands trembling. “i know. and i hate myself for it every day.”

“that mistake cost me everything,” you said, your voice hardening — cold and detached. “i loved you all those years and i still wasn’t enough for you.”

“no,” mina said quickly, her eyes wide with desperation. “you were always enough. more than enough. i got caught up in the fame, in everything i thought i needed and now i know none of it mattered. we had dreams of our future together, y/n, i worked hard so we could achieve it…and i messed up real bad, blinded.”

the words hung in the air, heavy and raw. you wanted to believe her. god, you wanted to believe her, but the hurt was still there. and painful.

“you have no idea what these past four years have been like for me,” your voice trembled, only noticing that you were both alone together. “i rebuilt my life from nothing. i tried to forget you. but every time i think i’ve moved on, something reminds me of you.”

mina’s face crumpled, and she took another step closer, until she was right in front of you. “please,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “please don’t shut me out again. i know i don’t deserve it, but i want to make things right. i need you, y/n. i’ve always needed you.”

you looked at her, really looked at her, and for the first time in years, you saw the vulnerability in her eyes. she wasn’t the mina on stage, the idol who commanded the attention of millions. she was just the girl you fell in love with all those years ago, the one who used to hold your hand and share secrets and breathless kisses in the dark.

but could you trust her again?

before you could answer, jihyo stepped into the room, gently placing a hand on mina’s shoulder. “let’s give it some time,” she said softly. “y/n’s been through a lot. this isn’t something that can be fixed overnight.

mina nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks as she took a step back. “i understand,” she whispered. “but i won’t give up. not on you.”

with that, she turned and left the room, leaving you standing there with the rest of the girls, your heart heavy with everything that had just happened.

you didn’t know what the future held. you didn’t know if you could ever forgive mina for what she did.

as you stood there, watching the door close behind her, you learned that a part of you, no matter how small, wanted to try.

the following months were a blur. after that night at the concert, mina tried reaching out to you in every way possible — texts, calls, even showing up at the bookstore where you worked. you ignored her, still unsure if you were ready to let her back into your life. every time you saw her name flash on your phone, your heart clenched, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond.

eventually, mina’s messages became less frequent, though you knew from the other twice members that she was struggling, bad. they told you about her anxiety, how she was barely able to perform anymore, how the weight of losing you was crushing her. part of you felt guilty, but another part of you knew that she needed to face the consequences of her actions.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it wasn’t until mina made a public announcement that everything changed.

you were stunned.

the day of mina’s public press conference arrived like a storm, unexpected and impossible to ignore. you hadn’t seen it coming, hadn’t even heard rumours about it until you stumbled upon a news headline on your phone while you were on a break at the bookstore.

“mina myoui of twice speaks out in emotional press conference: ‘i lost the love of my life because of my own mistakes.’”

your heart dropped. your hands shook as you clicked the link, the video starting almost instantly.

there she was, standing behind a podium, dressed simply in black, her face pale and drawn. cameras flashed incessantly, the noise of the reporters’ murmurs filled the room as she stood there, clearly struggling to keep her composure.

you hadn’t seen her like this before — not in all the years you were together, not in the countless press events she’d attended as an idol. this was different. this was raw.

as you watched, you could almost feel the vulnerability radiating off of her, like she was standing there with her heart in her hands, baring it for the rest of the world to see.

“thank you all for being here,” mina began, her voice shaky but resolute. she clutched the edges of the podium as if it was the only thing keeping her grounded. “there is something i need to say. something i’ve needed to say for a long time.”

she took a deep breath, and in that moment, you could see the weight of everything she had carried for years. all the pain, the regret, the guilt; it was written on her face, in the way her shoulders slumped, in the tremble of her voice.

“i’ve made many mistakes in my life, and the biggest one of all was losing someone i loved more than anything. i’ve stayed silent about it for a long time, out of respect for them, and because…because i didn’t know how to face the truth.”

the room fell silent. even the reporters, always hungry for a story, seemed to sense the gravity of what she was about to say.

“i was in a relationship,” mina continued, her voice cracking slightly. “a relationship that i cherished more than anything in this world. you all would have known her as y/n.”

your breath caught in your throat as you listened, the words cutting deep. this wasn’t the mina the world was used to seeing. this wasn’t the idol, the face on billboards — this was the real mina: vulnerable, scared and desperate to make amends.

“my y/n,” she said softly, the name falling from her lips like a confession. “she was everything to me, she loved me when i was just mina, not an idol, not a public figure, just me. we were just kids.”

there was a collective gasp from the room, the reporters scribbling furiously in their notebooks, but mina didn’t stop. her eyes were red, tears shimmering at the edges, but she pressed on.

“i hurt her bad,” she added, her voice barely above a whisper now, but it was clear, unflinching. “it was a stupid, selfish mistake, and i’ve regretted it every single day since.”

the cameras zoomed in on her face, capturing every tear that slipped down her cheeks. you could see the pain etched into every line, the desperation in her eyes as she looked directly into the camera, as if she were speaking to you and only you.

“but i let the pressures of this industry, the expectations, get to me. i thought i needed to be someone else to survive in this world, and in the process, i lost the one person who truly mattered.”

you felt your chest tighten as you watched her fall apart in front of the world. it wasn’t just an apology; it was a public plea, a desperate attempt to reach you, wherever you were. and it was working. despite everything, you couldn’t stop the wave of emotion that crashed over you as you listened to her words.

she paused, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, but the tears kept coming.

“i need you to know that i haven’t stopped thinking about you. i haven’t stopped loving you. not for a single day. and if i could go back and change everything, i would. if i could give up this life, this fame, this career, to have you back, i would do it in a heartbeat.”

the silence in the room was deafening. even the reporters seemed to be holding their breath, captivated by the rawness of her confession.

mina took a shaky breath and looked down at her hands, her voice breaking completely as she spoke the next words. “i’ve been lost without you but i don’t expect you to forgive me,” she said, her voice barely audible now. “i don’t expect you to even want to see me again. but i had to say this. i had to let the world know what i did, and how much i regret it. because you deserve to know how much i loved you. how much i still love you.”

there was a long pause, and for a moment, it seemed like she was going to break down completely. then she straightened up, her eyes red and swollen, but resolute.

“i’m taking a break from everything,” she added quietly. “i need time to reflect, to heal, and to figure out who i am without all of this. i’ve been relieved all of my duties from twice, i need to find myself again and i hope you can all understand.”

the room was still. no one dared speak. no one dared interrupt the moment.

mina glanced down at the podium, her hands shaking slightly as she folded the piece of paper in front of her, though she hadn’t read from it once. then she looked back up at the camera, her expression full of sorrow, but also a kind of hope.

“y/n,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath, “if you ever find it in your heart to forgive me, i’ll be waiting.”

and with that, she stepped away from the podium, leaving the room in stunned silence. the cameras continued to flash, the reporters murmured amongst themselves, but mina didn’t look back. she walked out of the room, her shoulders slumped, her heart laid bare for the world to see.

“what the fuck,” you mumbled to yourself, messages from everyone slowly flooding in.

years were spent building a life away from her, convincing yourself that you were over it, but now, after hearing her speak, after seeing the depth of her pain, you weren’t so sure.

you had loved her. and a part of you still did.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

over the next few days, the media exploded with the news of mina’s press conference. it was everywhere: on social media, in magazines, in every corner of the internet.

and amidst all the chaos, amidst all the noise, you found yourself replaying her words in your head over and over again.

she was stepping away. from everything.

because of you.

you hadn’t responded to her messages, her calls, or her letters for so long. you had kept her at arm’s length, refusing to let her back in after the way she hurt you. now, after seeing her like that; vulnerable, so broken — you wondered if you had been holding on to your anger for too long.

could you really spend the rest of your life shutting her out?

one day, as you sat in the bookstore, staring blankly at the stack of books in front of you, taylor came up to you with a hesitant look on her face.

“you okay?” she asked, her voice gentle. “you’ve been… kind of out of it since that whole press thing with, uh, you know…her.”

you sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “i don’t know, taylor. i really don’t know.”

taylor paused, then handed you another envelope. “this came for you today. from japan again.”

it was from mina. you didn’t even need to open it to know. she had been sending them regularly now, each one more heartfelt than the last, each one filled with the same desperation and regret you had seen at the press conference.

you knew what she was asking for. forgiveness. a second chance.

but could you give it to her?

you hesitated for a long moment, then finally tore open the envelope, your hands shaking slightly as you unfolded the letter.

it was long, full of apologies and regrets, but it was also full of memories. mina wrote about the life she had imagined for the two of you, the life she had lost because of her mistakes. she wrote about how she was living in a small cabin in kyoto, trying to find herself again, and how she wished you could see the beauty of the place with her.

she had changed. she wasn’t the same person who had broken your heart all those years ago.

for weeks, the letters kept coming, each one more heartfelt than the last. mina poured her heart out on paper, describing her days in kyoto, the simple life she had built for herself away from the spotlight. she wrote about how much she had grown, how she had learned from her mistakes, and how much she still loved you.

“do you think you could forgive her?” taylor asked one day, her feet up on the register and fingers greased with butter from the fairy bread in her hand. “like i don’t know man, she seems pretty genuine about all this.”

“she has changed,” you mumbled, folding the piece of paper gently into a box filled with her letters.

and just maybe, you weren’t the same person either. by the time you finished reading her last letter. your decision was made.

you stared down at the blank paper in front of you, the pen heavy in your hand. for a long time, you just sat there, unsure of how to even begin. every time you thought of mina, it was like two opposing forces collided within you: one pulling you toward her, remembering the love you had, and the other pulling you away, reminding you of the pain she had caused.

and yet, despite the weight of it all, you found your hand moving almost on its own, words spilling onto the page.

dear mina,

i’m not sure where to start. i don’t even know if i should be writing this. it’s been four years and i thought i had moved on. but then you went and did something like that, something i never expected.

you paused, biting your lip as you stared at the words. it felt like you were pouring your heart out onto the page, but it also felt vulnerable in a way you hadn’t allowed yourself to be in a long time.

you continued writing, the words coming easier now.

i watched your press conference. i saw you standing there, telling the world about us. you have no idea how hard that was for me, hearing you talk about what we had, what we lost. for a long time, i thought i’d never be able to forgive you for what you did. when you cheated, it broke something in me that i didn’t think could ever be fixed.

now, after seeing you like that, after reading your letters…i don’t know, minari. i don’t know what to think anymore.

you sat back for a moment, rereading what you had written. it was honest, raw, and for the first time in years, you allowed yourself to confront the emotions you had buried.

i can see that you’ve changed. i can see that you regret what happened. and maybe i’ve changed too. maybe i’m finally ready to let go of the anger.

you hesitated, your pen hovering over the paper. maybe. the word felt heavy, unsure. but wasn’t that the truth? you didn’t know if you were ready to forgive her completely, however, you were ready to start, and that was something.

i don’t know if i’m ready to forgive you, not completely, you wrote, the words feeling like a relief as they left the tip of your pen. but i’m willing to talk. i’m willing to hear you out, to see if there’s something left between us. i think we both owe it to ourselves to figure that out.

you paused again, your heart pounding as you realized what you were about to do. this was the first real step toward letting her back into your life, and it scared you.

so, if you’re serious about this — about us — then i’m willing to try again.

sincerely, y/n.

you stared at the letter for a long time after you finished writing, the words on the page blurring as you thought about everything that had led you to this moment. you had spent years running from your feelings, building walls to protect yourself, but maybe it was time to stop running. maybe it was time to face the love you had lost and see if it could be rebuilt.

the next day, you mailed the letter.

weeks passed after you sent the letter, and for a while, there was nothing but silence. part of you had expected that — after all, mina had disappeared from the public eye, taking a hiatus to heal, just like she said she would. you wondered if she had received your letter, if she was still in that cabin in kyoto, waiting for your response.

“how are things with mina?” your dad casually brought her up over the phone, the air filling with tension.

“uh, yeah, i don’t really know,” you spun your fork around. “we’re sort of talking.”

“that girl loves you with all her life,” he sighed. “it was a shame to see her go.”

“i know.”

“forgive her, y/n!” your mum’s voice rung from the line, albeit a bit distant. she must’ve been in the kitchen. “love is all about hurting, if it finds its way back to you, don’t close your door to it.”

then, one day, you received a letter back.

your heart pounded as you opened it, mina’s familiar handwriting scrawled across the page. you sat down at your small kitchen table, hands trembling slightly as you began to read.

dear y/n,

thank you. thank you for writing back, and thank you for giving me a chance, even if it’s just to talk. when i received your letter, i couldn’t stop crying. i know that i don’t deserve your forgiveness, and i wasn’t sure if you would ever want to speak to me again, but knowing that you’re willing to at least try…it means everything to me.

i understand that you’re not ready to forgive me yet, and i don’t expect you to be. i know i hurt you deeply, and it’s going to take time. but i promise, y/n, i’m not the same person i was back then. i’ve had a lot of time to reflect on who i am, on what i want out of life, and more than anything, i want to be the person you fell in love with again.

i’m still in kyoto, living a quiet life in the cabin. it’s peaceful here, in a way i’ve never experienced before. sometimes, i walk through the cherry blossom trees, and i think about what it would be like if you were here with me, seeing the beauty of this place.

i know i have a long way to go to prove myself to you, but i’m willing to do whatever it takes. i’ve been thinking about the life we could have together — the one we dreamed of. i want us to have a future again.

but i also know that i have to earn it. so, i’ll wait. as long as it takes, i’ll wait.

with all my love, mina.

her letter rest in your lap, it smelt just like her. they all do. your mind was swirling with thoughts and emotions. it felt surreal, hearing from her again, reading her words, feeling the sincerity behind them.

and in that fleeting moment, you realised something. you wanted that future too.

over the next few months, you and mina exchanged letters regularly. they were long, filled with memories, apologies, and hopes for the future.

she wrote about her days in kyoto, about the small joys she found in the quiet life she was leading, about how she was rediscovering who she was outside of the idol world. you wrote back, telling her about your life in australia, about taylor, about the bookstore and the ocean that had become your refuge.

slowly, the walls between you began to crumble.

and then, one day, you made a decision.

you booked a flight to kyoto.

the air in kyoto was crisp and cool as you stepped off the plane, the cherry blossoms in full bloom as you made your way through the city. it had been years since you had been in japan, and the familiarity of it felt strange, almost foreign after the life you had built in australia. there was something comforting about it too, something that made your heart beat faster as you thought about what was waiting for you.

mina.

you hadn’t told her you were coming. you wanted it to be a surprise, and you weren’t even sure what you were going to say when you saw her. after months of letters, after all the words and apologies and hopes shared between the two of you, you knew one thing for sure:

you had to see her.

you followed the directions she had given you in one of her letters, winding through narrow streets and past beautiful gardens until you reached a small cabin nestled at the edge of a quiet grove of cherry trees. the sight of it took your breath away.

simple, unassuming, but surrounded by a beauty that seemed almost unreal.

for a moment, you just stood there, staring at the cabin, your heart pounding in your chest. this was it.

you took a deep breath, then walked up to the door and knocked.

there was a long pause, and for a minute, you wondered if she was even home. then, the door opened, and there she was.

she looked different, yet the same. her hair was longer, pulled back into a loose ponytail, and she was dressed simply in a cream sweater and black joggers. but it was her eyes that caught you—the same eyes you had fallen in love with all those years ago, filled with shock, hope, and something else…something you hadn’t seen in a long time.

“y/n?” her voice was soft, disbelieving, as if she couldn’t believe you were standing there in front of her.

you swallowed hard, your heart racing as you looked at her, taking in every detail. “hi, mina.”

for a long moment, neither of you moved. you just stood there, staring at each other, the weight of everything that had happened hanging in the air between you. and then, before you could say anything else, mina stepped forward and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a tight, desperate embrace.

you hesitated for a second, your body stiff with the shock of it all, but then you melted into her embrace, your arms wrapping around her in return.

like coming home after being lost for so long.

“i’m sorry,” mina whispered against your shoulder, her voice breaking. “i’m so sorry.”

you closed your eyes, holding her tighter. “i know.”

you stood there for what felt like an eternity, holding each other as the cherry blossoms fell gently around you, the weight of the past slowly lifting.

you were ready to find your way back to each other.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

over the next few years, you and mina rebuilt what had been broken. it wasn’t easy — there were still moments of hurt, moments when the past threatened to resurface, but you both worked through it.

you travelled together, exploring the places you had always dreamed of visiting. you laughed and cried together, and found joy in the simple moments of life.

one day, in a quiet moment under the cherry blossom trees, mina got down on one knee and asked you to marry her.

you said yes.

the wedding was small, private, just the two of you and a handful of close friends. it wasn’t the grand, public affair that mina’s life had once been filled with: it was quiet, intimate, and full of love.

“mrs and mrs myoi!” all your friends cheered, the ones who have been there throughout your journey, throwing petals of flowers at you.

“i can’t believe you’re actually married,” rosé cries alongside jennie, them pushing each other playfully in the crowd. “i hope i’m not next.”

you laughed and as you stood there, hand in hand with the woman you had once thought you had lost forever, you realised that you had both found your way back to where you belonged.

together.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the soft glow of the morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm haze over the room. you sat on the edge of the bed, exhaustion etched into every part of your body, but there was an undeniable peace that had settled over you. next to you, mina lay with her head against the pillow, her hair tousled, eyes soft as they gazed at the tiny bundle in your arms.

in your lap, wrapped in a light blue blanket, was your son.

he was small, delicate, his tiny fingers curled around your thumb as he slept soundly, oblivious to the world around him. his dark hair, still wispy, stuck out at odd angles, and you couldn’t stop staring at him.

mina shifted beside you, reaching out to gently stroke his cheek with the pad of her finger, her eyes filled with wonder and something deeper. “he’s so beautiful,” she whispered, her voice full of emotion. “i think he’s going to have those striking eyes of yours.”

you smiled, feeling a swell of pride and love in your chest. “yeah, he really is.”

the two of you sat in silence for a moment, just taking in the sight of your son, feeling the enormity of the moment settle over you. it had been a long journey to get here, but now, sitting here with the love of your life and your first child, it all felt worth it.

mina leaned her head against your shoulder, her eyes never leaving the baby’s face. “what should we call him?”

you had talked about names for months, tossing ideas back and forth, but now that he was here, the name you both loved most seemed to fit perfectly. even the girls had their input, but you put a halt to it when jeongyeon suggested bob.

“yuto,” you said softly, the name feeling right on your tongue. “what do you think?”

mina smiled, her eyes shining with tears. “yuto,” she repeated, testing it out. “it’s perfect.”

yuto stirred in your arms, his tiny face scrunching up for a moment before he settled back into sleep. you leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, feeling the overwhelming love you had for him already.

mina wrapped her arm around you, pulling you closer, and the two of you sat there in the quiet of the morning, holding the newest member of your family. yuto was yours — yours and mina’s — a symbol of everything you had been through, of the love you had fought so hard to rebuild.

“welcome to the world, yuto,” mina whispered softly, her voice full of love.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the house in australia was quiet, except for the gentle rustling of leaves outside and the occasional sound of the ocean in the distance. it had been their home for decades, a place filled with laughter, love, and memories that spanned a lifetime. the walls were lined with photos, capturing every stage of their journey together —the wedding, the birth of their children, and moments spent with friends who had become family.

yuto, their eldest, a kind and thoughtful person who had followed in your footsteps, becoming a producer in his own right, though he chose to stay out of the limelight. he had his mother’s calm demeanor, often the one to bring peace during any family chaos.

their second child, a daughter named haruka, was full of fire and creativity. she had her own art gallery in melbourne and was known for her bold, expressive paintings that often captured the vibrant landscapes of australia. haruka was fierce, protective, and carried the weight of being a middle child with grace, always looking out for her siblings.

next came their son akira, who had inherited your grace and sense of purpose. akira was a dancer, like his mother once was and he traveled the world performing in renowned dance companies. he had a quiet intensity about him, thoughtful and introspective, yet he was always the first to call when something important happened, making sure the family stayed connected despite the miles between them.

the youngest, hana, was the baby of the family. she was gentle and soft-spoken, often the quiet observer in a room, but her empathy and kindness shone through in everything she did. hana worked as a therapist, helping children and families navigate difficult moments, and she was adored by her nieces and nephews for her gentle, nurturing nature.

you and mina had watched your children grow into adults with pride, and though the years had weathered your bodies, the love you shared remained as strong as ever. you were in your early 80s now, both of you moving slower than you used to, but still finding joy in the simple moments; like the quiet sunday mornings where you’d sit together, sipping tea and watching the world wake up.

it was during one of those mornings, the sun just starting to filter through the curtains, that you and mina found yourselves reminiscing about the old days.

“do you ever think about the girls?” mina asked softly, her hand resting on yours, her touch still as warm as ever.

you nodded, your thoughts drifting back to the early days of your life together, back when twice had been at the height of their fame. “i do,” you said, your voice quiet with the weight of memories. “it feels like a lifetime ago.”

she sighed, her gaze distant as she thought of her old friends. “chaeyoung and dahyun…” she trailed off, her voice breaking slightly.

they had passed years ago, both gone too soon. chaeyoung’s death had hit the hardest —unexpected and sudden, a loss that none of you had been prepared for. dahyun had followed a few years later, her health declining steadily after a battle with illness. the grief had been heavy, but the bond between the remaining members of twice had only grown stronger with time, even as life took them in different directions.

“and tzuyu,” you added, feeling the familiar ache in your chest. tzuyu had lived a long, full life, but her passing had left a hole in all of you. “she was the last to go, wasn’t she?”

mina nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “and nayeon,” she said quietly. “she’s not doing well. i’m afraid she won’t make it next christmas.”

you knew. nayeon had been in and out of the hospital for years now, her health fragile, and though you both tried to stay in touch, it was difficult. the distance, both physical and emotional, had grown over the years.

but the love was still there, a bond that time couldn’t break

“we had a good life,” mina whispered, leaning her head against your shoulder. “didn’t we?”

you smiled, your heart full. “the best,” you agreed. “we’ve been through so much, but we made it through together. and our children and grandchildren, minari, they are beautiful.”

she smiled, her eyes closing as she let out a contented sigh. “i love you forever, y/n, in every lifetime, i’m certain i’m yours.”

“i love you too, my darling,” you whispered, your voice filled with all the love you had carried for her over the decades.

the two of you sat there for a while longer, the silence between you comfortable, the weight of the years resting gently on your shoulders.

when you woke up the next morning, the room was still.

mina didn’t wake.

you stared at her peaceful face, your heart breaking as you realised she left in her sleep. she looked so serene, as if she had simply drifted away, leaving behind nothing but the memory of her warmth.

the tears came before you could stop them, your chest tightening with grief so profound it felt like you couldn’t breathe.

your children came quickly, each of them devastated by the loss of their mother. yuto, always the calm one, held you close, his own grief hidden behind the mask of strength he wore for the rest of the family. haruka sobbed openly, her fiery nature unable to be contained in the face of such a loss. akira was silent, his face pale and drawn, while hana cried quietly, her hand clasped tightly in yours as you all tried to process the reality of a world without mina.

the remaining members of twice arrived shortly after, their faces etched with the same grief you felt. nayeon, despite her frail health, had insisted on being there, leaning heavily on jeongyeon for support. jeongyeon’s face was a mask of sorrow, her strong shoulders carrying not only her grief but that of those around her. momo remained quiet, she had always been close to mina, her hands were clasped and her lips trembled as she tried to hold back her tears. sana leaned against momo, her arms wrapped around her in comfort, and yet her own grief threatened to overwhelm her. and lastly…jihyo, the one who had organised the funeral and made sure it would be perfect for your wife, her usual composure cracking from the weight of losing mina.

they held a small, private funeral for mina, just family and her closest friends. it was simple, just like she would have wanted. the ceremony was filled with bittersweet memories, with stories of her laughter, her grace, her kindness. everyone spoke of how beautiful she was, inside and out, and how deeply she had touched their lives.

as you sat there, listening to the stories being shared, the grief felt overwhelming. it wasn’t just that you had lost your partner, your soulmate.

it was that an era had ended. the life you had built together, the memories you had shared, felt so fragile now.

“she was everything to me,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you spoke to those gathered around you. “i don’t know how to live without her.”

but the truth was, you didn’t have to.

because not even a week after mina’s passing, you went to bed one night and never woke up.

when your children found you, there was no shock, no surprise. there was only peace. they knew, as did the remaining members of twice, that you and mina were always meant to be together, in life and in death.

your passing was marked by another quiet funeral, this time with even more tears but also a sense of comfort. your children, yuto, haruka, akira, and hana, stood together, knowing that the love you and mina shared would live on in them. the twice members gathered again, this time to say goodbye to both of you, their tears mingling with soft laughter as they shared stories of the lives you had lived.

“they were always together,” nayeon uttered, her voice hoarse from crying. “it’s only fitting that they left together too.”

jeongyeon nodded, wiping at her eyes. “they lived a beautiful life. they were happy.”

“they had each other,” sana added softly, her voice filled with emotion.

and in the end, that was all that mattered.

you and mina, after decades of love, pain, joy, and sorrow, had found your way back to each other in the most permanent way possible.

and now, in whatever came next, you were together once again.

because that’s how it had always been, and that’s how it always would be.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the end

[msbigredmachine]

An Angelic Christmas (Roman Reigns)

On their first Christmas together, Roman and Naima share heartfelt gifts, tender moments, and an intimate celebration that deepens their connection. A glimpse into the unlikeliest of love stories that’s about to unfold.

Pairing: Roman Reigns/Black fem OC

Warnings: SMUT

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: This is based off characters from my upcoming multi-chapter Roman fic (yes I know, it's been a while, lol) to be out in January. Look out for it!

Please check out my masterlist for all my other content!

gif belongs to @romanreigns

divider belongs to @bernardsbendystraws

The Miami sun is high in the sky, casting its golden rays over the famed city. Palm trees sway gently in the breeze, adorned with twinkling lights that sparkle even in the daylight, giving the vibrant streets a festive charm. 

Roman’s penthouse, perched high above the bustling streets, is no exception. Ornaments of red and green and gold glimmer on a ten-foot high Christmas tree standing in the corner of the living room, a towering contrast to the sleek modernity of the space. It’s not exactly the snowy holiday Naima grew up with in Atlanta, but she’s not complaining. Not when she’s with her man.

Naima hums along to “All I Want for Christmas Is You” blasting through the speakers, twirling a wooden spoon in her hand as she checks on the smoky jollof rice in the kitchen. The turkey is ready and well stuffed, so that is settled. Her bare feet pad softly across the hardwood floor, her movements fluid and effortless, the dancer in her kicking in. Chief, their three-month-old Staffy puppy, is sprawled nearby, lazily gnawing on a holiday-shaped chew toy that she bought him.

Roman sets the table, looking at his girlfriend with an amused smirk. “Mariah again?” he teases, his deep voice cutting through the music.

Naima turns, feigning offense. “Not you actin' like you don’t love this song, big guy.”

He chuckles, stepping closer to her. “It’s a classic, I’ll give you that.”

She rolls her eyes, scoops a spoonful of rice and blows on it before holding it up to his lips. “Here. Taste this.”

Roman takes the bite, chewing slowly. The smoky flavor hits his tongue first, followed by the rich spices that taste even better than the last one she made a month ago. He lets out a low hum of approval.

“Damn, baby,” he says, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

Naima grins, her beautiful brown eyes sparkling. “That’s just the rice. Wait till you try the turkey and plantain.”

Roman glances at the counter where the massive golden-brown turkey rests, surrounded by perfectly caramelized plantains and a big bowl of sapasui specially made for him. His diet, meticulously planned for his wrestling, is going to take a serious hit tonight. But he doesn’t care. It’s Christmas, and Naima’s cooking is worth every cheat day.

“Diet starts tomorrow,” he declares, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her close.

“Tomorrow,” she insists, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Tonight, you’re eating everything I made, handsome.”

Roman chuckles to himself as she kisses his cheek and walks away, his gaze dropping to those long, shapely legs of hers. Naima has been in his life for a while now, but every time they are together, it feels like a fresh challenge—a battle of wills he doesn’t mind losing. Most of the time.

The table is set with mismatched plates—his playful touch—and candles flickering softly in the center. Chief sits obediently at the side, eyeing the turkey but making no moves toward it, as if he knows better. The couple sits right next to each other on the table. Roman’s red-and-green sweater fits him perfectly, hugging his broad shoulders and muscular chest. Naima’s matching sweater is oversized and hangs loose on her frame, exposing one shoulder and riding up her thighs each time she moves. Of course, Roman notices, and his hand rests possessively on her thigh, his fingers tracing slow, absentminded circles in that affectionate, sensual way that always leaves her weak.

“You really didn’t have to do all this,” Naima says, nodding toward the huge tree and the perfectly arranged garland along the fireplace. “I know Christmas isn’t your thing like that.”

Roman smiles, his hand tightening just slightly on her leg. “Yeah, well, I figured you’d cry if we didn’t at least have a tree.”

Naima smacks his shoulder, though a grin spreads across her face. “You ain’t right!”

“I’m just sayin’,” he teases, his baritone laced with humor. “You been talking about Christmas since Halloween ended. Couldn’t let you down, mamas. After all, this is your first Christmas outside Atlanta. Am I right?” 

Naima nods and sips her glass of champagne. “Yep. Feels weird not being with Adara and Julien, but…this is nice. Different, but nice.”

Roman cuts out a large piece of turkey and places it in Chief’s bowl, the little puppy gobbling the meat happily. “You talk to them today?” he asks. Knowing how close she is to her sister and nephew, he can already guess the answer.

“Of course,” she replies, “Adara says hi. And Julien was hyped about that new wrestling game you sent him. You officially won Christmas with that.”

He chuckles, proud. “Kid’s got good taste.”

Naima leans back in her chair, watching her boyfriend for a moment. There's something so easy about the way they’re together, the way they fit into each other’s lives despite their wildly different worlds. She loves this version of Roman—relaxed, unguarded, a far cry from the intense Tribal Chief persona that dominates the squared circle. Here, he gets to be just him. With her. His safe space.

She's honored.

“I’m glad I’m here with you,” she tells him, affection in her voice.

Roman’s gaze softens. “Me too, baby girl.”

After dinner, they retreat to the couch, plates of leftover plantain and wine glasses in hand. Chief curls up at their feet, munching on a leftover turkey leg. Roman’s arm is draped over Naima’s shoulder, his fingers lazily playing with her long hair. She rests against him, her legs stretched across his lap as “Home Alone” plays on the 64-inch TV.

“You got one more present,” Roman announces suddenly.

Naima raises an eyebrow. “I thought we agreed on no more presents.” They've already exchanged small gifts earlier in the day—she gave him a custom leather wrestling gear bag embroidered with his initials, and he surprised her with a sleek pair of Saint Laurent knee-high boots she’d been eyeing for months. 

“I ain’t agree to shit,” he smirks, a small, wrapped box materializing in his hand. “Here.”

Naima sits up, taking the box from him and unwrapping it carefully. Her jaw drops as she takes in the unmistakable Harry Winston packaging, her fingers trembling slightly as she unties the ribbon. She carefully opens the box, her breath catching as her eyes fall on the exquisite piece inside—a diamond necklace that glimmers like a constellation of stars. The delicate chain, made of intricate diamond clusters, forms a flawless, radiant circle that exudes elegance and timeless luxury, leaving her utterly speechless.

“Baby…”

“I saw it and thought of you,” he says, his tone casual, though the way his eyes linger on her face betray how much the gift means to him. “You light up my life, mamas. Figured it was fitting.”

Her throat tightens as he helps her put the necklace on, the cool chain resting against her skin. “Thank you. It’s so beautiful,” she whispers.

“Well, it was either this or the anklet,” he adds with a cheeky wiggle of his eyebrows as he caresses the back of her leg, “Woulda been great for these long-ass legs I can’t stop staring at.”

“You always gotta be so extra,” she giggles, her voice teasing but shaky.

Roman grins, his eyes bright and happy. “You bring it out of me,” he whispers, his heart swelling as she holds him tight. He will never tire of moments like this with her.

“Your turn,” she announces, reaching behind the couch to grab a flat, rectangular package.

Roman unwraps the paper carefully, revealing a framed portrait of the two of them sitting on an equipment crate backstage after his match at Summerslam. He was still in his wrestling gear, his Undisputed Championship resting on his lap, while Naima sat beside him, close enough for their thighs to touch. Her arms are around him and their eyes are closed, heads tilted and leaning against each other as if the world had disappeared for just that moment. The image, captured by Naomi, radiates intimacy and quiet strength, capturing everything unspoken between them in that stillness.

He is quiet for a moment, his gaze lingering on the frame.

“You don’t like it?” Naima questions, suddenly uncertain.

“I love it,” he breathes, his voice low but full of emotion. “This…” He trails off, his fingers grazing the edge of the frame. “This is amazing, baby girl.”

“I wanted you to have something to remind you of who’s always in your corner,” she says, her voice soft and sincere.

Roman sets the frame down carefully and hugs her again. “I love you. You’re my everything,” he murmurs, the weight of his words settling between them.

Naima shivers, her heart racing for him like it always does. “I love you too. And you’re mine.” Her fingers clasp behind his neck as she pulls him in for a kiss. It starts slow, purposeful, their lips meeting in a way that feels as natural as breathing. Naima’s hands frame Roman’s face, her fingertips brushing against his beard as their mouths move in perfect sync. It's sensual, unhurried, yet electric enough to send shivers down their spines. 

Roman’s large hands roam down her back, possessive and sure, pulling her closer until she’s in his lap. When she moans softly into his mouth, it ignites something primal in him. The sound drives him crazy, her lips and her voice working together to undo him in a way no one else ever has. It’s a reminder of everything they share—the connection that goes beyond words, beyond the teasing and playful banter.

When they finally pull apart, she rests her forehead against his, her breathing unsteady. “Believe it or not, I got one more gift for you,” she informs him, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. “It’s red and made of satin and lace.”

“Yeah?” Roman’s voice roughens, his hands still on her hips.

She leans in close, her teeth tugging on his earlobe as she whispers, “Mm-hmm. But you get to see it later.”

Roman groans low in his throat, his hold on her tightening. “You really tryna test my patience, huh?”

Naima laughs, sliding off his lap before he can pull her back. “Ya know what they say, baby; patience is a virtue.”

The rest of the night passes in a haze of laughter, wine, and stolen touches. Chief dozes near the fireplace, his tiny snores filling the silence of the now-muted TV. As Naima cleans up the dishes from their late-night snacks, Roman leans against the counter, watching her.

“You ever think about what’s next?” he asks suddenly.

She glances over her shoulder, her brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“For us,” he elaborates, his voice unwavering.

Naima pauses, her hands stilling. “I mean…I’m happy right now. Aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” he says, his lips twitching into a small smile. “I am. But I’m talking like, big picture. Like, what happens when we’re not doing this flying-back-and-forth shit anymore? What if you moved to Miami permanently? With me.”

Naima turns to face him fully, leaning against the sink. “That means leaving Adara and Julien in Atlanta. Leaving Exotica. I know you’d love that,” she rolls her eyes.

Roman shrugs. “Well, it is your workplace, regardless of my feelings towards it. But we can figure that out together. Right?”

She exhales, crossing her arms. “I don’t know. I try not to think about it too much. Kinda feels like jinxing it.”

He pushes off the counter, narrowing the distance between them. “I get it. I just want you to know I’m serious about this. About us. I don’t care where you came from or what you’ve done. I just…I’m all in with you.”

Naima gazes at him, her chest tightening. “You sure you know what you’re gettin’ into, Reigns?” she whispers.

Roman grins, his hands finding her waist. “Baby girl, I’ve been sure pretty much since the day I met you.”

Her smile is wide and her heart feels impossibly full. “Guess I better go put your present on, then.”

Roman’s laughter echoes through the penthouse as she saunters off, her long legs carrying her toward his bedroom. “Don’t take too long,” he calls after her.

Ten minutes later, Naima’s heart is still racing with excitement. She can feel the heat of the shower still lingering on her body, buzzing with the anticipation of what is to come. Roman’s words echo in her head; “Don’t take too long.” 

A playful grin crosses her lips. It will definitely be worth the wait.

The silk robe is soft and gentle on her skin as she moves around the bedroom. The lights are dimmed just enough to set the mood. She reaches for the speaker, turning on a playlist full of sultry, slow R&B songs that she uses for her private dances. Usually, she has an audience of several, tossing dollars at her, hungry for more. Tonight, her audience consists of just one, the most important one; Roman Reigns himself, her man…her everything.

She stands in front of the full-length mirror and lets her long, damp hair cascade down her back, shimmering under the soft lighting. She takes a deep breath as she eyes her reflection, seeing a stark difference between the woman staring back at her and the one from seven years ago.

Well done, Naima. Well done.

She quickly goes to the gift bag she’d tucked away, pulling out the lingerie she had purchased specially for him—a festive red set with white fur trim and a playful Santa-inspired design. The bra and thong set hugs her curves perfectly, and she can feel herself getting wetter, more eager. She doesn’t need much of an excuse to get her man all worked up, but tonight? Tonight is different.

She peeks her head through the door and calls out to him, her voice low and teasing. “Baby, I need some help in here!”

As he enters the bedroom, his gaze immediately falls on her—no longer in the oversized sweater, but in blood red lingerie, looking like a vision. His mouth goes dry, his pants tightening as he drinks in the sight.

“Goddamn, baby girl,” he mutters, his voice hoarse with desire. He leans against the doorframe, his eyes scanning her, taking in the way the fabric clings to her slender body. “You look fucking incredible.”

“You like it, big daddy?” she asks, her voice dripping with temptation as she strikes a pose that extends her already long legs.

“Like it? I fucking love it,” he growls, his voice rough with desire. “But how the hell are you not tired from all the cooking?”

Naima’s lips curve into a sultry smile as she inches closer to him, her hips swaying with every step. “I’m never too tired to please you, Ro.”

Roman’s expression softens, but there’s a spark of something else in his eyes—anticipation. He doesn't respond at first, just watches as she takes his hand and leads him to the bed, motioning for him to sit. He obeys without question, his body already tingling with desire.

She walks over to the speakers and turns the volume up just enough. The sultry, slow beat of “To My Bed” by Chris Brown fills the room, its sensual tone ensconcing them both like a velvet blanket. She stands for a moment, letting the rhythm of the song take over her body. The satin fabric of her lingerie shimmers as she dances, her movements sensual and determined, drawing him in. There’s no rush from her—each motion is deliberate, designed to drive him crazy. 

Roman’s hands rest on his knees, gripping them tightly, the intensity in his gaze saying more than words can express. His breath quickens as she turns and gives him an eyeful of the thong that’s swallowed up by her fat, bountiful ass cheeks. Then, she slowly approaches him, her legs long and lithe, flexing with an effortless grace. She leans forward, pushing her chest in his face, her hands smoothing over his broad shoulders. 

“You like what you see, big guy?” she inquires, her voice low and smokier than her jollof, dripping with sex and authority, knowing she has him in the palm of her hand.

“Damn right I do,” Roman growls in response, his hands closing over her breasts, the tension in the air as thick as a storm about to break.

A slow smile plays across her lips, a smile that sends shivers through him. She reaches up and places a Santa hat on his head, her fingers brushing over his scalp before letting the hat sit on top.

“Guess you’re my Christmas gift, huh?” she teases, winking at him, her fingers lightly tapping the top of the hat.

Roman can’t help but snicker despite the lust pulsing through him. “You know it, mamas. Just unwrap me already.”

Naima stands in front of him for a moment, her body swaying, the sheer satin glistening against her skin as the lights of the room caught the fabric just right. Roman’s eyes roam over her, memorizing every inch. Her body, her long legs, that damn sexy smile of hers, the way she looks in the tiny underwear. She knows how to play him like a violin, and tonight he is her willing instrument.

Naima’s smile grows as she slowly unhooks her bra, letting it fall to the floor, exposing the breasts and pierced nipples that never fail to make his mouth water. She drops down low, then slowly rolls back up as her hands run over her curves, caressing herself. She hears his breathing getting heavier, and that only fuels her further. She lets the music take control, her body moving with a confidence that only Roman can bring out of her.

His eyes are glued to her, his expression a mix of lust and admiration. “You’re killing me, mamas,” he growls, his voice clogged with desire.

She stops for a moment, standing in front of him, her ample chest rising and falling with each breath. “Oh, I’m just getting started, big guy,” she purrs, her voice low and sultry. “You’ve been a good boy tonight, so I think you’ve earned a little something special.”

Roman chuckles darkly, his hands resting on the bed now, the muscles in his jaw flexing. “You’ve got no idea what I’m gonna do to you after this.”

Naima smirks, her confidence skyrocketing as his hungry stare stalks her every move. With her back to him, she sensually shimmies between his parted legs and lowers herself onto his lap. Her backside rests right on his crotch as she keeps moving, rolling her ass back and forth in a manner that makes his jaw clench. She throws a sly glance over her shoulder, catching the way his hands twitch, aching to touch her again.

“What’s the matter, big guy? Can’t handle it?” she taunts, her voice low and teasing.

Roman exhales sharply, his resolve crumbling as his hands shoot up to grab her waist. His fingers dig into her skin as she bounces her ass on him, the enticing rhythm making his entire body flare up with heat. “Goddamn, baby.”

Naima’s laugh is rich, full of mischief and lust as she presses back harder, causing him to groan. “That’s right, daddy, watch me throw this fat ass on you,” she moans, steadying herself with her hands on his knees while her hips and ass do all the talking.

Roman tilts his head back for a moment, shutting his eyes tightly as he feels himself throb from the near unbearable friction. “You keep this up and I’m not gonna last long,” he growls, reaching out to squeeze her backside wreaking havoc on his stiff crotch.

“That's the plan,” she shoots back, grinding against him some more before standing up abruptly, leaving him gaping at her like she’s just snatched his soul. “Gotta give Santa his Christmas dance,” she giggles, stepping back and twerking to the music again.

Roman licks his lips as he adjusts himself and the hat on his head. “Santa’s getting impatient, baby girl. You better finish that dance quick before I take what’s mine.”

Naima's eyes are fixated on her man as she tugs on the waistband of her thong and slips it down her legs, tossing it playfully at him which he catches easily. Her body is now completely bare, save for the light sheen of sweat that clings to her skin, making her glow. She straddles him again, leaning in so their noses almost touch. “What if I don’t wanna finish, big daddy?” she murmurs, her lips brushing his teasingly.

This time, Roman doesn’t hesitate. He grips her thighs and flips them over, pinning her beneath him. The bed shifts under their combined weight as he stares down at her, his smirk widening. “I know where I wanna finish,” he mutters, his voice catching right before he crushes his mouth to hers. His big hands eagerly roam her curves as he presses himself against her, the warmth of her naked body sparking a fire he can’t extinguish.

With a teasing grin, Naima pulls his sweater off him and helps him shove his pants down. Then, moving with surprising speed and strength, she rolls them over so she is back on top. Her hands smooth down his chest, running her fingers over the muscles of his abdomen, and she reaches down to grip his length, massaging him for a second or two before sliding him inside her. 

With a soft moan, she sits up and presses her hands on his chest, pinning him down as he drops his hands from her waist to her ass, squeezing the supple cheeks. His grip tightens as she rides him with the skill of an equestrian, her shapely hips rolling and rotating, seemingly spelling her name on him. He can feel her wetness seeping between them, the friction driving him crazy.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, “You make me lose my fuckin' mind.”

Naima dips down, capturing his lips with a passion that sends fireworks off in his brain. The kiss is deep, intense—needy. Their tongues tangle with an urgency that speaks volumes to their never-ending lust for each other, Roman’s hips joining the frantic dance of want as he meets her halfway with deep thrusts right against her sweet spot. The scent of her perfume—something floral and warm—mingles with the sweet musk of desire, and his head spins from the intoxicating combination.

“Shit, Ro…” Naima moans. She grips the pillow behind Roman’s head as she pounces and bounces on his dick with increased urgency, the slickness of her pussy, the feel of him deep inside her, making everything feel like it’s about to explode. She lets out another breathy moan, her face nuzzling his neck, her heavy pants sprouting goosebumps on his skin. Roman’s breath catches in his throat as the feel of her beautiful body writhing on top of him, along with a dizzying myriad of sensations, nudges him closer to the edge.

“Fuck,” he growls, his eyes hazy with pleasure as he stares up at her, “Baby, I don’t know how much longer I can last.”

Naima smiles down at him, her hair falling over her shoulders in soft waves, her chest rising and falling in tandem with her rising and falling on his dick. She cups his face, gazing right into his eyes as she whispers, “Tell me I’m the best you’ve ever had.”

Roman’s eyes darken with lust. It’s the easiest confession he’ll ever make. “You're the best I’ve ever had, baby girl. By a mile. Don’t nobody fuck me like you do,” he professes.

Her body responds to his praise like a fine-tuned instrument. Her movements become faster, more desperate with every dropdown. Their foreheads press together, and she groans as he suddenly shifts and rolls her back underneath him. He slides her right leg onto his shoulder and pumps into her determinedly, cursing as the new angle deepens his reach inside her. Overwhelmed, Naima's eyes squeeze shut, her fingernails latched to his back, swept away by the intensity of their passion, reverberating through the entire master bedroom as euphoria comes calling. The bed rocks harder from the force of Roman's thrusts, indescribable pleasure drawing them closer and closer.

“Open your eyes, Naima. Look at me when you come,” Roman coaxes her with a kiss, his voice almost pleading as his fingers brush along her stomach and find that sensitive spot between her legs. He toys with it, his personal pleasure button, playing with the sticky mess she’s made and luxuriating in the sounds of her shaky moans as he fucks her into the mattress.

Naima obeys and locks glazed, unfocused eyes with him, barely holding on as the world crescendos around them. Only a half-minute later, it all comes crashing down like a tidal wave—powerful, overwhelming, all-encompassing. Naima screams as her juices gush from the impact, all over his dick, her entire frame shaking with the bone-tingling intensity of her orgasm. Roman’s grip on her and on reality falters as her pussy tightens around him, sparking his release, his drenched dick pulsing and twitching as he fills her to the brim. They collapse together, panting and sweaty, spent and wrecked. He lands on his back and immediately pulls her close, his face buried in her hair as he struggles to catch his breath.

Naima lets out a contented sigh, smiling as she nestles against his chest. “Guess that was a Christmas gift for both of us, huh?” she murmurs.

Roman chuckles, his lips meeting her forehead. “You’re the best gift I could ever ask for, baby.”

She smiles up at him, her heart warm and full. “And you’re mine. You don’t know what you’ve done for me, Roman.”

And with one more heartfelt kiss, they cling to each other, their bodies still buzzing from the most beautiful experience, knowing that the holiday season has brought them even closer—if that was even possible.

🎄THE END...for now.🎄

Merry Christmas and happy holidays!

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[cailinsblog]

The Café by the Rink-Nico hischer

Nico hischer x reader

Masterlist

It was an ordinary Tuesday morning in Newark, New Jersey, when Nico Hischier first walked into *Maggie’s Corner Café*—a quaint, family-owned spot nestled just down the street from the Prudential Center. The place had an old-school charm, with mismatched furniture, the hum of indie music in the background, and the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. It was a cozy hideaway, a far cry from the bustling streets just outside.

Y/N had been working there for a few months, ever since she moved to the city. She loved the routine—the familiar faces who came in for their daily fix of caffeine and conversation. Then, one day, Nico Hischier walked in.

He wasn’t wearing his Devils jersey, just a hoodie and a baseball cap, trying to blend in with the regulars. He ordered a black coffee with a shot of espresso. Simple. Direct.

"Coming right up," Y/N said, smiling at him without thinking too much of it. He was just another customer.

But the next day, Nico was back. And the next. Every morning, at exactly the same time, he’d walk in, and she’d already know what to make for him.

“Good morning, Neeks, your usual?” she’d say, her voice light and familiar.

Nico would chuckle, his eyes sparkling as he leaned against the counter. “You know it.”

It became their unspoken routine. While Nico’s fame followed him everywhere else, in the café, he was just a guy who loved a good cup of coffee. He’d sip it slowly, chat about the weather or the team, and then slip out just as quietly as he came.

But one morning, everything changed.

Nico walked in with an entourage. His teammates. They filled up the small café, taking seats at the corner booth and laughing amongst themselves. Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t let it show. She greeted them all with a friendly smile, jotting down their coffee orders.

Nico leaned over the counter, his voice lowered but full of intention. “We’re getting coffee for the whole team today.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her smile still warm. “Okay... what can I get for you guys?”

Each player had their own preferences—lattes, cappuccinos, iced coffees—and Y/N moved quickly to get their orders just right. Nico stayed close, watching her work, a hint of pride in his eyes.

When she handed them their drinks, Nico pushed a stack of bills toward her. “For the team. They’ll be back. Keep doing what you’re doing.”

Y/N glanced down at the money, a little stunned. “You’re... seriously?”

“Yeah.” Nico smiled, his tone serious but kind. “The boys love your coffee. Trust me, it’s not just the caffeine.”

The team’s visits became more frequent after that. The café buzzed with excitement, not just from the regulars, but from the growing crowd of fans who started coming in, hoping to catch a glimpse of a player or hear an inside joke. As word spread, the New Jersey Devils started supporting the café, covering the costs to help it stay afloat. The little family-run café that once struggled to keep the doors open was now thriving, thanks to Nico’s quiet generosity.

One afternoon, as Nico sat by the window, Y/N came over to check on him, setting down a fresh cup of coffee.

“You’re always here,” she teased, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Don’t you have a game to get to?”

“I do,” Nico replied, his voice low, “but I had to stop by. Got something for you.”

He handed her a small envelope. She took it, surprised. Inside was a note with the Devils logo on it.

“We’re sponsoring the café now,” he explained, watching her face as she processed the words. “The team wants to make sure you stay here for a long time.”

Y/N’s heart skipped. “Wait, really? You—you did this?”

Nico shrugged, a modest smile crossing his face. “It’s nothing. You’ve built something great here. We just wanted to help.”

A wave of emotion hit her. It wasn’t just about the business—it was about Nico’s belief in her, in the place she’d built with her own two hands. She couldn’t find the words to thank him, so she just nodded, touched.

And then, one evening, after another high-energy game, Nico found her sitting at the café, the place quieter than usual as the evening rush had passed. The lights above the counter were warm, the late-night hum of the city outside making everything feel a little more intimate.

“Hey,” Nico said, his voice soft. “Did you enjoy the game?”

“It was amazing,” she replied, smiling at him. “I never thought I’d be sitting courtside, watching you score.”

Nico grinned, his gaze lingering on her a moment longer than usual. “I think I made a goal just for you.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You didn’t have to. But thank you. It was... special.”

There was a quiet pause, and then, without another word, Nico stepped closer. His hand gently brushed against hers on the counter. The touch was electric, simple, but full of intent.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice a little unsure, like he was testing the waters. “I know this is a little crazy, but... I like spending time with you. More than just coffee and small talk.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her heart racing. “I like it too, Neeks.”

His name was a soft whisper on her lips. And that was all it took. The distance between them vanished in an instant, and Nico’s lips found hers in a kiss that was slow at first, almost tentative, as if they were both savoring the moment. It was gentle but filled with all the words neither of them had said yet—the unspoken truth of what had been building for months.

When they pulled apart, both of them were smiling, their eyes locking in a way that felt new but also familiar.

“Good morning, Neeks,” Y/N whispered, her voice soft and full of meaning. “Your usual?”

Nico chuckled, his thumb gently tracing her hand. “You know it,” he replied, his voice low, but there was no mistaking the smile on his lips.

And just like that, the coffee shop where it all began had become the place where everything changed. Where the ordinary became extraordinary. And where two people, brought together by a cup of coffee, found something more than either of them could have expected.

[watchmegetobsessed]

LOVE AND TOUR

A/N: im so excited to post this fic bc *drum roll* it's a collab with @harrysfolklore !! the post tour depression is still kicking our butts so we decided to team up for a story that features LOT! hope you guys will like it and as always, make sure to head over to her blog to check out her fic that features all social media posts for this story!

WORD COUNT: 5.1k

SUMMARY: Y/N and Harry were once friends, but his career pulled them apart. Then in 2019 Harry decides to invite her to ONO London and so their story begins or more like continues.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

2010

The handmade banner hanging over the white board in the classroom is crooked and two balloons have popped already. The sign reads ‘Good luck, Harry!’ and every letter is a different color. The desks and chairs were pushed to the side to make room in the middle and the teacher’s desk is full of snacks and drinks the kids brought in for the little impromptu party the class decided to throw before Harry’s big day.

He is going to his big X Factor audition this weekend and though he is not convinced he will make it, everyone in school is rooting for him. If anyone deserves the success it’s Harry, the goofy, kind boy who makes everyone smile and always helps whenever he can.

The soon-to-be rockstar is mingling with his friends and classmates, music is playing in the background and the chatting is nonstop. Everyone keeps asking Harry if he’s nervous or ready or which judge he is afraid of the most. He tries his best to talk to everyone and be everywhere, though he keeps an eye on one specific girl.

Y/N has been staying in the back for most of the time, sipping on some soda, listening to her friend as he enjoys the spotlight. She’s been friends with Y/N for quite some time, they live just a street away from each other, they often bike to school together and whenever one of them is sick the other one can be expected to show up at their house with the homework.

Good friends. That’s what they are. But deep down, Y/N is definitely feeling more than just friendship towards the curly haired boy who is now set to step his foot on the road to fame.

When the party is over and everyone has headed home already, Harry and Y/N are the last ones to walk out of the school’s building.

“So, be honest, are you nervous?” she asks as they are walking home , pushing their bikes this time. Harry said he hurt his ankle at PE today so he better not get on the bike, but in reality… he is just trying to spend more time with Y/N. 

“Kind of, yeah,” he admits with a chuckle.

“I’m sure you will crush it.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” she smiles at him and his heart skips a beat. 

Harry has been trying to work up his courage to ask Y/N out since probably the sixth grade, but he just never got to the point. Now he tells himself that if he gets into X Factor she will see him in a different light and that’s when he should ask her out, but little does he know he doesn’t need to be in a talent show to have her like him enough to want him.

Reaching her house she wishes him good luck and even hugs him before he waves goodbye and continues his way home. Y/N stands by their front door and watches him get farther away, hoping that whatever happens that weekend won’t change their friendship.

2013

The tour bus is quiet, everyone is asleep. Everyone, except Harry. 

Lying in his bunk bed, his face is illuminated by his phone as he aimlessly scrolls on his social media apps, checking out posts by fans, reading news, just killing time. He knew he shouldn’t have had a nap earlier, because now it will be way too late by the time he can fall asleep and won’t be rested enough when they arrive in the next city. 

He opens up Instagram and goes through his feed, he posts a picture he took of the crowd at the show the other day and then watches the likes flood in like crazy. 

Going back to his feed he goes through his friends’ posts, it’s just the usual, parties, vacations, hanging out, everyone seems to be living their life even though Harry often feels like time has stopped since he’s gotten on the road. 

He can feel himself growing sleepier and he is just about to put his phone down when he comes across a post that wakes him up.

Y/N is not one to post often, she is not like most girls he knows who want to share every and any moment of their life. Last time she uploaded something was probably weeks ago. This time she was snapped in her graduation gown, her hair flowing in the movement flawlessly and he recognizes her parents’ home in the background. It totally slipped Harry’s mind that in a life he left behind graduation was happening these days. 

He scrolls down to the caption and all it says is “Soon” and then a crown emoji. It’s enough for him to know she’s going to King’s College London, that’s what she always dreamed about and it seems like she hasn’t changed her mind.

Before he could think about it, he double taps on the picture liking it, completely oblivious to how fans can see his activity and they instantly start guessing about who the girl is whose graduation photo was liked by Harry Styles.

2014

The screaming intensifies wherever Harry goes on the stage, he is jumping and shaking his long hair to the music while his bandmates are singing ‘Steal My Girl’ and the girls are going crazy, the energies are insane, Harry loves performing, this is truly his element. 

He’s been on the road for what feels like forever and if you asked him what day it was, he would have no idea. It’s a miracle he knows which city he is currently in.

Walking to the side of the stage he stops for a moment right before the bridge that’s his part. He lifts his mic to his lips and starts singing when the music dies down right before his lines.

“She knows, she knows, that I never let her down before…”

His voice fills up the stadium, thousands are singing together with him and he runs his gaze over the sea of people in front of him. He sees so many faces, some are even familiar, Harry tends to remember fans he sees over and over again at their concerts, but most of them are new. The song carries on and the boys start singing along with him, Harry is about to move back to the middle of the stage, but then he sees her.

He sees Y/N.

Or so he thinks. It’s hard to tell, because it’s dark and she is so far away from the stage, it could be just someone who resembles her, but something in his gut tells him it’s her. 

He does a double take, losing the familiar face for a moment but then he finds her again and a shiver runs down his spine. He hasn’t seen her in years, life has been simply way too hectic to keep in touch, last time he met her was probably in 2012 when he went home for Christmas, they ran into each other in town and promised to talk soon because they were both kind of in a hurry, but they never followed up with it. Y/N went to college, Harry’s career was skyrocketing, it was impossible to stay as close as they were before X Factor and Harry always regretted not trying harder, because now he has no idea what’s happening in her life. 

Niall walks up to him and pats him on the back and Harry’s focus shifts to his friend for just a moment, but it’s enough to not find her again when he looks back at the audience. Did she duck down? Walk out when she realized he was looking? Or did he just entirely imagine seeing her and it was just a mirage? 

He can’t get her out of his head for the rest of the show and he finds himself looking for her over and over again, but he doesn’t see her again and his consciousness starts to convince him she wasn’t even there. 

It was just a cruel trick his own mind played on him. 

2019

Why does he feel like he is sending out an invitation to the Queen of England? Why is he so nervous to hit send on an email? This is nothing Earth shattering, nothing will happen if he sends it out and life will go on even if she never replies.

One Night Only is set to happen in a few weeks and Harry is now sending out his invitations to his friends and family, he wants everyone who matters to be there on such a big night. Making the list was no hard task, but then he thought of inviting Y/N as well even though they haven’t talked in so long.

The other night, Harry found himself stalking her Instagram which he is still following. She has been posting once or twice a month, tiny glimpses into her life that doesn’t include Harry anymore.

But he wants to change that.

“Fuck it,” he mumbles under his breath and then adds her to the list of people who will get the invitation and then he just hits send and it’s officially out there. 

Harry is not necessarily one to get overly obsessive about something, but the next few days he finds himself checking his inbox every hour, scrolling through the new emails, looking for one particular address to show up, but he has to come to the conclusion every time that Y/N hasn’t answered. 

Days go by, Harry’s enthusiasm fades and by the end of the week he is convinced she won’t be there and soon he doesn’t even have time to think about it. 

One Night Only arrives to London in december. The venue fills up with excited and devoted fans, but no one is more nervous about tonight than Harry. 

He is ready, his band is ready, everything is perfectly in place, but he knows he won’t feel fully calm until he is on stage, performing to the people who gave him this amazing life. 

It all goes as planned, Fine Line is finally officially out there (it has been for about a week if we are being exact) and Harry couldn’t be happier. Coming off the stage he is still high on adrenaline, taking all the congratulations the crew and guests are giving him relentlessly. His smile is so wide, it’s starting to hurt his face, but it’s a pain he could happily deal with for the rest of his life.

He hugs his mum and sister, all his old friends, they do a group hug with the band and he is sure he has greeted everyone by now, but then he spots one specific figure in the back of the room.

At first he thinks he is just imagining it. That his mind is playing the same trick on him it did a few years ago when he thought he saw Y/N at one of their concerts. Blinking a couple of times he is ready to watch her disappear like a ghost, but as the seconds go by he realizes that she is truly there.

Y/N is standing across the room with a nervous smile, looking all grown up and most importantly fucking beautiful. Even though Harry has seen plenty of pictures of her from recent times, it’s still a shock to have her stand in the same room as him. 

His body moves before his brain could process it. His feet start to carry him towards her and before he even realizes he is running and when he finally reaches her he wraps her in his arms, twirling her around, making both of them laugh.

“You’re here!” he breathes out, still hugging her even when he has put her down.

“I am, you invited me!” she chuckles and they finally lean back enough to look at each other. 

“I know, but… you never replied, I didn’t think you’d come and… You are actually here,” he repeats.

“Sorry I didn’t reply, I wasn’t sure until the very last minute if I would come,” she admits nervously.

Harry’s invitation was all she could think about since the morning she got the email. It was more than unexpected, for a moment she even thought it was just some kind of prank, but it came from Harry's old email address, so she had to believe that it was genuine. She hesitated until probably a few days ago when she woke up one day and just knew that she had to be here tonight. 

“It’s okay,” he smiles at her softly, taking in her every feature. The girl he knew is still there, but she changed a lot, she looks so much more mature and her features have definitely gotten a lot more feminine. 

She looks gorgeous. 

Suddenly it all comes down on him clashing, all the questions, the feelings, he wants to know everything, but he fears they don’t have enough time.

“How long are you staying?” he then asks.

“I took a couple of days off, I’m staying for three more days.”

He sighs in relief. 

“Come on,” he smiles, his hand taking hers. “I want to know everything.”

“Everything?” she chuckles, ignoring the tingles wherever his hand is touching hers.

“Harry, don’t assault the poor girl! She almost didn’t come!” Gemma chimes in. Harry stops, his eyes snapping back and forth between Y/N and his sister.

“Wait, you knew she would be coming?” he asks Gemma, who is sipping on some champagne with a knowing smile. She shrugs.

“Yeah.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” he scoffs, hands on his hips. The sight makes Y/N laugh, because she can see his sixteen year-old self in the pose so vividly, it’s insane.

“You never asked,” Gemma says and walks away. Harry turns back to Y/N.

“She messaged me if I got your invitation,” she admits. 

“So you’re telling me, all I should have done is to send you a message and ask for confirmation?”

Y/N just chuckles, shrugging her shoulders innocently. Harry exhales as he shakes his head.

“Alright, now you truly have to tell me everything.”

2020

“Can you hear me?” Harry asks, as the FaceTime finally loads and Y/N’s pixelated face fills his phone’s screen. He leans back on his plush couch and he tries his best to ignore how fast his heart starts pounding in his chest when he hears her laugh.

“Yeah, I can hear you,” she answers and it seems like she just sat down somewhere too.

Struggling with the unstable connection they share how their day has been so far, though Harry has been up just for a few hours while Y/N’s is almost over. The time difference has been making it hard for them to keep in touch, but Harry has learned his lesson and he bends his schedule around these talks, because there’s no way he would waste even a moment he could spend talking to her.

ONO and the days that followed changed everything. It didn’t take long for Harry to realize that his boyish crush is still very much present and after seeing her it quickly evolved into something more mature. Seemingly, Y/N has been sharing these feelings, because it appears she enjoys spending time with Harry in any way possible just as much as he does. 

It took them quite some time to catch up and it feels like they still haven’t shared everything they missed in each other’s life in the past years, but they know they have all the time they need, even if the circumstances might not always be the best. They are both trying their best.

There’s a comfortable silence in their call where both of them are just staring at each other through the screen. The unsaid things have been hanging there between them, they know it’s more than just their old friendship rekindled, but saying the words out through a FaceTime call wouldn’t be right.

“I miss you,” Harry finds himself mumbling the words, kind of to himself, but she hears the words.

“I miss you too,” she replies, biting her lip as she adjusts the phone in her hands.

“Can I… Can I see you before I go on tour?”

“That’s like… in three weeks,” she chuckles.

“I know. But I want to see you.”

“I don’t know, I have a regular, mundane job, I’m not an international rockstar who can just travel whenever it’s convenient,” she reminds him jokingly.

“Okay, then let me visit you.”

“You’re way too busy to come here.”

“I’m never too busy for you.”

She gasps at his words, the pink clouds so thick around her mind it’s almost sickening. If only she could reach out and through the screen…

“Let’s talk about it tomorrow and if you still think the same, we can… figure something out,” she smiles shyly. Harry knows he’ll feel the same tomorrow and the day after and forever. So he just smiles and nods.

They chat some more until Harry has to leave. Unwillingly, but they end the call and return to their separate lives.

Y/N stays on her couch, her phone still in her hands and Harry on her mind. Her TV is on, but it’s been muted, the screen is the only thing illuminating her in the dark room. With a tired sigh she reaches for the remote and turns the volume back on.

The news are on. She stands from the couch and starts cleaning up, not even listening to what they are talking about on the screen.

“... therefore COVID-19 has been officially declared a pandemic. WHO warns everyone to wear a mask in all public places, countries with a high number of cases are urgently discussing what other safety measures should…”

Y/N is questioning her sanity. She has been for the past week that was spent packing her suitcase, she took three covid tests in the last two days and now she is about to board a private jet at an airport that’s scarily empty. The last part shouldn’t be surprising, the whole world is under lockdown because of the pandemic, Y/N has spent her last month isolated in her apartment, right until one day Harry begged her to fly over to him.

“Y/N, please. I will settle everything, I’ll send a private jet for you, pay for it all, just please… please come here and be with me!”

There’s probably nothing she can deny from him. So here she is, escorted onto a private jet by an airport worker, they are both wearing their masks, just like everyone she has seen in the past week preparing for her travel.

Just as she settles in her seat on the jet, her phone buzzes from a text.

HARRY: Everything alright? Are you boarding already?

With a smile hidden under her mask she types her reply.

Y/N: On the plane, we’re taking off in 10.

HARRY: I can’t wait to see you.

Last time she traveled overseas was for a vacation years ago. She flew commercial then and it felt like hell, wedged between an obnoxious little boy and a middle aged woman who complained about everything. Now it’s just her and literally one single stewardess who is there to serve her. It’s a whole different experience for sure. 

Luckily, the journey feels a lot shorter when she’s comfortable, she can get up anytime and eat excellent food instead of some weird frozen meal on a plastic plate. By the time the jet touches down she feels rested and most importantly excited to see Harry again. It feels like forever when they had to say goodbye in december and in all honesty, it took them way longer to reunite, but it’s all because of the pandemic. It’s late april now, they were planning to meet about a month ago originally at the end of march before his tour was set to kick off. By now he was supposed to be on the road through Europe, but instead, he has been under lockdown just like the rest of the world.

She walks through LAX as if it was zombie land, it’s so eerily empty she is expecting zombies to round the corner any minute, but it never happens. She reaches the car waiting for her, the driver loads her begs to the trunk and then they are off to Harry’s place. 

It’s her first time at Harry’s LA home, and naturally it still baffles her to see where he’s gotten from his old life in Holmes Chapel, one that included her.

But his life includes her now as well, she reminds herself just as the car rolls up the long driveway. Getting out of the car she is about to grab her suitcases from the back of the car when the front door flies open and Harry sprints out. Literally.

He is running towards her with such speed, she almost gets knocked over when he finally reaches her and locks her in his arms, twirling around in the air.

“You’re here!” he breathes out, making her laugh.

“Were you not expecting me?” she teases him when he finally puts her down, but his arms remain around her.

“It’s just… I’m so happy to see you,” he smiles widely, taking her in. She hasn’t changed much since December, maybe her hair has gotten a little longer, but she looks the same.

However their feelings are nowhere near the same.

He thanks the driver and then grabs all her bags, urging her to come inside. Y/N wanders further into his home exploring it right away, already migrating towards the pool outside. Harry sets her luggage down in the hallway and walks after her, watching her stop by the sliding doors, admiring the enormous backyard. She turns around and catches him staring.

“What?” she asks, nervously laughing.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head. “I’m just really happy you’re here.”

2021

He’s nervous. There’s no use in denying, anyone could see it. But no one can blame him, it’s been so long since he last stood on a stage, he’s afraid he lost his groove, though the people who know him beg to differ. 

Washing his teeth in his fluffy robe he is eyeing his outfit for tonight that’s hanging in the corner. He knows his fans will love it, the color pink alone would make them go feral, but the sparkly vest with no top underneath will be surely like they won the jackpot. 

He spits and rinses his mouth just when there’s a soft knock on the door and just by the rhythm of it he knows who it is.

“Come in!” he calls out, wiping his mouth with a towel just when Y/N pokes her head inside, her body following a second later. 

“Hey,” she smiles shyly, taking him in for a second as he moves around the room.

“Told you, you don’t have to knock when you come in,” he chuckles.

“But, what if you’re… naked or something?”

He stops and stares back at her, giving her an ‘Are you kidding me?’ look that gets her all flustered in an instant so he decides to take it even further.

“Nothing you haven’t seen, baby. In fact, you can see it right now if you wanted to.” He starts untying his robe, but she stops him laughing and taking the opportunity of having her so close now he wraps her in his arms and kisses her.

It never gets old. The feeling he gets whenever he gets to kiss her, whether it’s a good morning kiss right after he wakes up, or a tired kiss at the end of the day, a needy kiss when he just wants her more than anything or a make-up kiss after a fight, which doesn’t happen often. He can count it on one hand how many times they got into an argument since they’ve become an item in April 2020, when Y/N spent most of the lockdown with Harry. Originally, she planned to stay only for a couple of weeks, but she didn’t return home until the start of June and she was back by July.

Now it’s September 2021, so it’s been almost one and a half years since then and they are still just as in love as they were during lockdown.

“You’re nervous,” she mumbles against his lips and it’s not a question. She knows him, all of his looks, his movements, she knows what he thinks about most of the time if not always, she can read him like a book.

Harry hums and just goes in for another kiss.

“You’ll be amazing, don’t worry,” she smiles at him, patting his chest as she pulls back. “And even if you make a mistake, the pink sparkles will distract everyone,” she jokes, nodding towards his outfit.

“You’ll be out there?”

“Of course. I’ll be the one screaming the loudest.”

“As loud as last night?” The cheeky grin that stretches across his face is proof that he is not that nervous if he can make dirty jokes.

“Shut up or I’m going home,” she laughs, poking a finger into his chest teasingly. He grabs her finger and pulls her back for another kiss.

“Nope, you’re stuck here. With me,” he smirks, lips coming over hers again.

2023

The bittersweet feeling has been lingering around the crew not just all day, but probably for a week now. Everyone knew that the end was coming and now that the final show is officially here, the emotions are overflowing. Everything they are doing, they are doing it for the last time on Love On Tour. It’s the last stage, the last sound check, last time Wet Leg takes the stage before Harry and it’s the last time Y/N is sitting in his dressing room, watching him put on his outfit of the night.

She can sense that he is different than he usually is before a show, he seems antsy and his eyebrows have been furrowed probably since lunch. Y/N watches him pace the floor back and forth in his sparkly outfit, nervously fixing the wire behind his neck even though it’s exactly in the same spot it usually is.

“Do you want me to help?” she asks and Harry stops in his tracks, as if he just realized what he’s been doing. His hands fall by his side as he exhales sharply.

“Sorry, just… fidgeting.”

Y/N stands from the couch and walking over she absentmindedly fixes his fringed vest, planting her palms onto his chest gently.

“It’s okay to be sad, H,” she reminds him. Harry tends to hide his big, sad feelings, because he feels like it would bother others. He is always so considerate about dealing with everyone else’s feelings, but this time his emotions should be in focus as well.

“I don’t want to be sad, that’s the thing. It was a great experience, sadness should not be a thing when I think of Love On Tour.”

“But that’s why it’s okay to be sad. Because this amazing experience is ending and it’s natural that you’re mourning it. It lasted, what? Like almost two years? And if we count in the planning, this tour has been part of your life since 2019. That was four years ago, no one expects you to just let go of it laughing.”

Harry nods, his arms snaking around her waist as he pulls her into his embrace, needing to feel her close in this overwhelming moment. She’s been his anchor, the person he could turn to no matter what during this insanely long tour, he’s convinced he couldn’t have done it all without her. 

Not even Harry can slow time down, so the moment to step onto the stage for the last time in this tour finally comes. Y/N stands with his family and friends at the side, holding Anne’s hands whenever an emotional song is played by him. He puts one thousand percent into it, just like every time on this tour and Y/N’s chest swells with pride when she realizes that it’s one hundred thousand people screaming at her lover.

Or fiancé, to be exact. 

When Harry sings Falling, to his fans’ surprise, she notices him looking for her in the crowd. The song is melancholic and it was written about a time he felt at his lowest, but to look in his eyes tells it all to Y/N.

He is not there anymore, because he has her. 

She’s twisting her diamond ring around her finger as tears dwell in her eyes while she sings along to the song, hoping that her expression tells him too, that she is happy to be the person who brought light into his life, because he did the same to her.

Then the time comes for Harry’s thank you speech and no eye is left dry after his words. Y/N has to swallow back her sobs when he turns to her and addresses his words straight to her.

“My love, thank you for everything, you were such a big part of this journey and I hope that our journey will continue forever.”

The fans are screaming, phones are pointed at her, recording her reaction as she just nods eagerly, one hand covering her wobbling lips. 

For his final piano piece Y/N moves backstage to watch him from there and be there when he walks off the stage for the very last time in the history of Love On Tour. She is standing there with the proudest and most emotional expression on her face when Harry jumps down the steps and he smashes into her arms right away, burying his face into the crook of her neck. She can feel his tears against her skin and she gently keeps combing her hand through his hair, giving him as much time to recover as he needs. 

When he finally lifts his head his eyes are glassy, but there’s a smile on his lips.

“You did amazing,” Y/N tells him, gently wiping his cheeks with her hands.

“And you did too,” he says and his words make her laugh.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You did the absolute most, Y/N. You gave me your love and support and I couldn’t have done it without those.”

Her heart melts as she pushes up to her tiptoes, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“You’ll forever have those. You’ll forever have me.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[paulpingminho]

[rabbitcruiser]

Johnny Cash was inducted into the Country Music Awards Hall of Fame by Kenny Rogers on October 13, 1980.  

[with-my-calamitous-love]

KISS ME IN A WAY THATS GONNA SCREW ME UP FOREVER

rockstar! chuuya nakahara x pop star! reader

after acting in a music video of his right after a breakup, the media has many speculations about you two.

part 1/3

inspired by suburban legends

once the flight had flown, your feet touched down on the new, big city. it was a kaleidoscope of loud heartbeats, hidden underneath the fabric of fashion trends of large coats. the world in this corner smelled like want.

you weaved your way through the crowd before finally reaching the studio. you open the door, unpack your things with a hug and kiss to your manager, before finally seeing him.

chuuya nakahara was perhaps the most famous man in the world right now. a deep, gravelly voice with hands that slid across his guitar like skates on ice. he was the living, breathing definition of the word heartthrob.

right now, he’s tuning his guitar, his messy orange hair tied into a cute messy bun. he’s concentrated, the fabric of his black muscle shirt clinging to his obviously well toned muscles. you know you’re staring, but you can’t help it. and its not even just because he’s famous and talented.

you had been making a name for yourself in the music industry. slowly but surely, the name [Y/N] [L/N], the world’s new pop princess! had been making headlines. the general public considered you a sweetheart, with your fresh-faced beauty and edge paving the way for new found fame. the paparazzi adored your voice and your lyrics. you had only begun your receive the recognition you deserve.

upon winning best new artist at the vma’s, your song feather garnered billions of listeners. but perhaps the most shocking of them all, was gaining the attention of the one and only chuuya nakahara.

and thats how you ended up here. standing face to face with the embodiment of every women’s dream man.

“hey, [y/n].” he greets you, his sultry voice breaking through the mist of your fantastical mind. you snap out of it with an awkward laugh and a firm (but surely sweaty) handshake. he brushes it off, giving you a wink and thanking you for coming all this way.

“i love your studio.” you manage to compliment the rockstar despite your winded state. he hums a thank you, walking you towards the stage. his team works diligently, and you swear you can feel all his gratitude towards them. everyone in first name, high fave and shitty joke basis with each other. it was hard not to feel like an outsider.

“i don’t know if michizou gave you the run down on the video.. which he should have!” chuuya playfully jabs at his producer and good friend, who was currently fixing up the stage lights and blowing fat raspberries back at his boss. “basically, its for my new single. you’ll be playing my girlfriend.”

you wish you could hide the embarrassing scarlet tinge that blooms onto your cheeks at the mention of girlfriend. he seems so nonchalant, so casual about being so intimate.

once he’s distracted, your whisked away by a beautiful girl with a short black bob. her butterfly clip hung loosely just beside her bangs. she was the one person here who didn’t make you feel like a complete stranger on the outside looking in.

“hi, [y/n]! i’m yosano, i’ll just be doing your makeup.” she hums, and you happily take refuge in her cozy dressing room. the two of you hit it off almost immediately, allowing you to get your nerves out. however, something comes up that throws you off your game.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

“oh and.. i guess, someone should tell you, honey.” she says, making your eyeliner as sharp as humanly possible. “chuuya’s been… he’s having a hard time. a bad breakup.”

this information churns in your stomach. “how long ago..?”

“3 weeks ago, give or take.” yosano explains, applying the setting powder. on one hand, you were thankful someone had warned you. but on the other, it made you nervous that you would be playing a romantic partner to someone who had just gotten their heart broken.

“why did they break up?” you ask, cautiously looking over at yourself in the mirror to make sure you were hiding your anxiety well enough.

“i don’t know… the rockstar over there never really talked about it.” yosano huffs, sitting on the counter to get a better angle at applying your lip liner. “all i know is… he hates betrayal more than anything now.”

a million thoughts run through your head. who? when? why? but most of all, who in their right mind would cheat on chuuya nakahara?

but you lost all the time for your nervousness. next thing you know, yosano is rushing you onto the set with words of encouragement. there, you meet chuuya, who’s been waiting for you.

the first scene is simple. just two people dancing in the living room set.

he walks over to you, placing his hands on your hips like its second nature. he chuckles at your nervousness, the way you tense up as you instinctively place your hands on his chest.

“what? don’t know how to dance, doll?” he teases, that shit-eating smirk on his face.

“uhm… no.” you admit, sheepishly.

he looks surprised, before a genuine smile reappears on his face again. “thats okay, just follow my lead.”

and with that, you two start swaying. he takes the lead, using his body to direct your movements. and for the first time in your career, maybe ever, you actually feel comfortable. you gain your fluidity back, dancing with chuuya in a way that words couldn’t explain. like two figures in a snow globe, you acted out a miniature expression of love thaf spoke volumes.

the rest of the filming process goes on smoothly, your favourite of the bunch being the kitchen scene. chuuya washes dishes while you snuggle up to him from behind, the overflowing of the sink being unscripted but ultimately charming enough to keep in.

finally, it was the scene you were most nervous about. the infamous kiss scene, and the segment yosano had failed to warn you about.

“i’ll say this again.” chuuya says, his voice in a hush tone. “i am not gonna make you this, doll.”

you’re nervous to kiss him, but the thought of turning him down felt like a complete loss.

so you bite your lip, and give chuuya the greenlight.

“three…two…one… ACTION!”

the camera pans in a circle around the two of you, capturing every small detail. the moment he cups your face, the moment you lock eyes… before finally, you two kiss.

and its the kind of kiss that saves you and that screws you up forever. that day, chuuya nakahara kissed you like the most gorgeous rose you had ever hoped to pick, with a million thorns sticking out from the side.

it was as though just front that simple contact, you knew the kind of guy he was. a gentleman, a man polite too a fault. time seems to stop even as you two pull away. you honestly consider breaking your own heart so you can move on from the love of your life (aka the famous man you met just a few hours ago.)

“thats a wrap!” tachihara announces as the team celebrates. this song, though you hadn’t heard it yet, was sure to be a hit. and chuuya assures that the music video will bring so much of the spotlight you deserve.

after that, the team breaks with some cake and beer. you, however, sneak off to the balcony, getting some much needed fresh air. you’re almost granted the moment of peace you craved when suddenly, someone addresses you.

“hey pop star.” chuuya says, walking up behind you and offering you a beer. when you politely accept, he stares out at the city-scanning sunset. finally, you two were alone, away from the editors and cameras.

you ask whats been on your mind since the beginning.

“…what song was this for again?” you nervously ask.

chuuya lets out a hearty laugh, enamoured by your sincerity. he digresses, opting to take you to the rooftop instead. there, he picks up his guitar and begins playing a few notes. it seemed like such a douchebag move, but if it was, you loved douchebags.

“can i tell you a secret?” he asks, strumming the acoustic strings with calculated talent. you nod, fiddling with your fingers.

“..i don’t really have a title for it yet.” he chuckles. now its your turn to laugh at him, and he takes it.

“why’s that, rockstar?” you ask, sipping your beer.

chuuya ponders for a moment, his eyes never leaving his guitar. he shrugs, continuing to serenade you. a thought crosses your mind.

“why’d you choose me, anyway?”

though he can’t think of a song title, he seems to know the answer to that question.

“cause you’ve got edge, and talent.” he says. “the industries gonna want to ruin you. you can’t let that happen, alright?”

you nod apprehensively. you’ve heard the whispers, how female stars were held up to a higher standard. how one wrong move, one hair out of place, or one breath too loud could cost you your career. hearing it from an established star made your hands shake.

maybe this would screw you up forever.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

[chuuyaheartz]: new MV is out!! starring [y/n] [l/n]

[soukkvo]: pov me replaying the kiss scene:

[lovechna]: idk who i’d wanna be more 😍😍

[asagir1]: wait wtf he like just broke up with higuchi… don’t you think its a little soon??

[chzai09]: they’re my roman empire

new star [Y/N] [L/N] kisses chuuya nakahara and new music video!

who is [Y/N] [L/N]? meet the new pop princess:

[Y/N] [L/N] is chuuya’s new girlfriend? heres whats happening:

#[Y/N] [L/N] trending

[galeorderbride]

Forgiving the Flame for a Burn - Zevlor x F!Tav Fic Request

An angst/comfort/smut piece for @evocationwriter. Thank you so much for asking me to do this piece, I adore you! Xx

This is SMUT (tags/details below)

18+ MDNI

Summary:

One year after the defeat of the Elder Brain, Tav is trying to settle into daily life. But being a hero means the making of enemies, and Tav ends up on the wrong side of the city, with the wrong kinds of people.

That is, until a charming, former Hellrider steps in, saving her from the worst and taking her into his home for the night.

Tags: angst, comfort, smut. Unprotected piv sex, oral sex (f receiving), light orgasm denial, tail play, tiefling anatomy (infernal ridges, forked tongue), religious language used; some detailed depictions of a violent attack (beating to be specific)

Word count: 5k

Zevlor x F!Tav

No one talks about the end of a hero’s journey. Tav found herself thinking of that often, ever since the Elder Brain fell by the hand of her and her companions. Subjects of bard’s songs and children’s puppet performances, all of them bending to the whim of ‘thank yous’ and questions about adventures. All of them fading over time into nothing. People moved on, they had to, of course. Rebuilding homes, restarting businesses, schools and cleaning up parks. Life went on, and the looks of admiration as she’d wander the streets dissolved.

Needless to say, that wasn’t all bad. Walking around the city gave her a sense of anonymity she’d missed in the year since the brain’s defeat. While she had fond memories of children asking for autographs and telling tales at the Elfsong to curious attendees, the harassment and threats from those who felt nostalgia for the cult of the Absolute soured the experience. Every time she’d think about it, memories of Stone Lord exiles and concealed Banites taunting her with torture fled to mind.

Now, she could relax. Bask in the beauty of city living with no one to bother her (other than letters from her companions and comrades, which always excited her). Evening slowly began to fall, a wondrous sunset disembarking for the night as shopkeepers lit sconces outside their doors and brought in their signs. Fishmongers and tradesmen met in the streets to coalesce at either the Blushing Mermaid or the Elfsong. Parents corralled their children to follow them home after a day at the markets. Tav walked among them, smiling at the peace of normality she’d never forget again.

On nights like this one, Tav would look up above the Elfsong and see Alfira strumming her lute on the balcony. By now, she’d been giving lessons to children at her very own music studio for the last three or four months. Even then, she’d still go up to that rooftop and sing her heart out. Tav felt remorse every time she gazed upon the dazzling tiefling, guilt in her heart that, rather than enjoy the music, her soul yearned for the presence of a different tiefling entirely.

A year since she saw Zevlor at the final battle. A year since she’d discovered he survived. A year—and not a single letter. Everyone else reached out to her but him. In the weeks following, she wracked her brain for anything she might’ve said wrong. Any word that could be taken as an insult. Only he knew, and that would be just so forever.

She ignored the chest aches now, and the tingling in her abdomen that sometimes made her knees shake. Hoping one day they’d fade away like her fame. One outlived the other.

Was he even in Baldur’s Gate anymore?

Clearing her throat, she kept walking. Straightening her shoulders. New bottles of dye clinked against each other in her basket, held close to her stomach. In her daydream, the clock tower struck nine, startling her as she realized she’d been standing there for too long.

“Shit,” she whispered under her breath, forced to face her newfound fear of walking alone outside ever since anonymous former cultists began to harass her. She chastised herself for going today, irritated that she didn’t just wait until tomorrow morning.

Sticking to the main road, Tav hurried her step through the emptying streets. The end of a tenday, people looking for a rowdy night out were trickling into every space they could get drunk. Irrationality kicked in, everyone became an enemy, and no one had even noticed her yet. She repeated in her mind: Tav, get yourself together, you fought an elder brain. You can take anything a mere civilian can hit you with. Just walk.

Halfway home, things were normal. Everyone ignored her, and she felt her shoulders begin to calm as she neared her destination. The sky grew dark, only the light of the crescent moon peering behind the overcast lit her way. Little droplets of rain began to dot her face, she lifted her cape hood for shelter. Right as heavy footsteps trailed behind. The jungle of buckled boots and a person at least twice her size, she could discern that without even looking.

“The hero of Baldur’s Gate! Walking about these parts alone at night. Guess you don’t need brains to be a saviour, huh?” The voice behind her said. A man with a gravelly voice, slurred with drunkenness and malice.

Tav tried to ignore him, swallowing her fear as she kept walking at a brisk stride. One or two minutes and she’d be home. Counting the seconds, in tandem with the footsteps continuing to pursue her. Now in a quiet street, no one was around to help or witness whatever the man behind her had planned.

“Don’t run off so quick, sweet one! Sing me one of those ballads made about you! Bet it’ll sound sweet gurgling out of your throat when I cut it!” He chided, a growl so feral within him she could mistake him for a wild animal.

Another voice poked through an alleyway she passed, another men bumping her with his shoulder, rough enough to send her steps back against a wall. He said, “Father will love this at his temple doorstep, brother.”

Bhaalists. She should’ve known the ones to keep pestering her after all this time would be them. Likely a worse nightmare than anyone else, given their propensity for insane, maniacal violence. Were they even drunk? Or was that a farce to blend in with the city?

“Leave me be! I’ve killed more than you for less,” she said, sucking in her frightened breath.

Both of them cornered her, trudging towards her and beginning to push her around between the two. Smaller than both of them, she struggled to fight back as her basket of dyes shattered to the ground. Catching them off guard just quick enough for her to throw a punch in the face of one. He fell back, grunting in pain as the other smacked Tav against the brick wall. A sharp ache ran across her spine, the wind knocked out of her to completion when the one she punched slammed his fist into her stomach.

Gasping for breath, they let her collapse to the ground. Holding her abdomen tight, the roof of her mouth dryer than sand. Catching impossible air as the two paced around her, predators toying with their prey. That hit to her stomach so hard that she couldn’t find the strength to get up let alone fight back. Gods, was she really done in so quickly? Had she softened so much in just a year?

Most of the time, they were four at least. Now, she was one. And defeated in a matter of minutes. Dye stained her clothing as she twitched around the ground, feeling a harsh sting of hands clawing at her hair, pulling her back.

“Not so heroic now, are you?” The one that held her hair teased, giggles oozing with evil.

“Enough dawdling,” said the other, sheathing out a sharp, shining knife. “Tie her up to take her to the temple.”

Right when they began to tie the rope around her, a swing of a longsword sliced across one’s throat. Tav didn’t see all of it, still reeling from the punch. But the second one began to fight against her rescuer. Behind her writhing body, the sound of punching, stabbing and armour sliding against leather permeated the air.

And then nothing. Quiet air mixing with laboured breath, a few growling sighs to follow. Ones she recognized after a few seconds. A calming but assertive tone that used to excite her beyond belief.

“Z—,” she tried to say his name, but coughed instead. Recovering from the punch to the gut, breathless all the same.

Warm arms wrapped around her, lifted into an embrace healing her in seconds. Heat coursing within each injured vein, the tender flesh of a tiefling’s hold. Her head hung back against his arm, aching stomach muscles jolting. But the rest of her soul eased with the shelter of safety, letting him take her wherever he deemed right.

It could’ve been minutes. Or hours. Awakening in a soft bed covered in thick furs and clean sheets. Glowing candlelight against stone walls and the blurry flame of a burning fireplace. Sparks flew across the mantle as a broad shouldered, tailed man threw another log in. Trickling liquid poured from a clay pot, steaming scents of green tea and lemon soothing her into full awareness. No more pain, other than a small ache in her abdomen. For a second, she wondered if she’d died.

Tav shifted on the mattress, wincing from her sore muscles. At the corner of her eye were her dye-soaked clothes, hanging to dry after being washed. Bare arms and legs slid around the linen fabric of her ivory slip. Hair swept back from her face in a loose, well done braid.

“Am I dead?” She whispered, groaning out remnants of her voice as if she’d forgotten she had one.

The man turned from the fireplace, rushing to the bedside. Seating himself on the stool directly next to her, she could clearly make out the weathered, handsome features of Zevlor. Pouring tea like an old friend, not someone who’d been silent for a year.

“Not dead, Tav. You can’t imagine how glad I am that you’re awake. After those mongrels attacked you…I feared the worst,” he said, handing her the small cup as she sat up. Zevlor outstretched his hand as she winced, but pulled back before he could touch her.

Her eyes closed with the peace of green tea on the tongue. Pushing away the thoughts of the attack, burdened by yet another memory of pain. She chose another route, “You saved me. I don’t know how you found me but thank you, I owe you for such a gesture.”

With a cordial nod of a soldier, he said, “Think nothing of it. I—well, it’s a long story but I’ve made a living through private security. I was coming home from a job when I saw you in the street. Found you just in time before you slipped into that alleyway.”

She cupped the mug in her hands, resting on her cross-legged lap. A skipped beat of her heart went aflutter when she caught Zevlor’s eyes linger over her bare legs, and back to her face in a split second.

“I didn’t even know you were in the city,” she said, “It’s been so long since we’ve talked.”

Zevlor shifted, eyes darting away from her to every other corner of the room. The place was small, fit for a single man who didn’t want for much. Exactly him, melding in with the space as he paced around with his arms crossed. Keeping his distance as he always did even when they had fought together, even after the celebration…

“Certainly, I owe you an apology for that. There is still much agony in going into it but—I was in a bad way after the final battle. An injury of the mind, if you will. Times were hard, too hard to reach out to you with any confidence,” he explained.

“I expected no less, after all that happened. Only that, well I thought we’d become close. That maybe you’d find some peace through my support. But,” she trailed off as her hands shook, shock of what happened to her still dominant over her, “seems you supported me.”

Her feet hit the cold floor, trying to stand up while wobbling about. Just as her hips moved off the mattress, she stumbled downward. Zevlor strode over, hooking his arms around her, lifting her back onto the bed. In her panic, she clutched him without mercy. Holding him so close to her that he fell forward, knees landing on the bed as she lay under him. Hovering over her, he saw the quick rise and fall of her chest, struggling to properly exhale. Bringing him back to their moment alone at the Grove celebration, when he comforted her, held her as she wrestled with the fear she had to hide for her companion’s sakes. Here he was again, taking one, brave move to slide the strap of her slip back onto her shoulder.

“Zevlor…please don’t leave,” she said as she felt him move away, feeling his heart shred at the discomfort of being so close. No matter how much he craved it. Craved her.

He sighed, “You’re terrified, shocked from what happened. I don’t want to get in your way and make things worse.”

As he pulled away, she stabilized her tremored hand by grasping his wrist, “You haven’t made things worse. Remember when you sat with me at the party? When I confessed to you how afraid I was of everything? You helped me so much back then, how could now be any different?”

Zevlor faced away, staring into the firelight as Tav waited. He could not retreat from the visions of their last meeting. How she cried to him, and told him she felt safe in the comfort of his arms. Sitting in a grassy, humid corner away from the rest of the guests. Sheltered by fern leaves and flowers, he let her talk and talk about all that troubled her. Felt so touched by her vulnerability that he shared his own worries too. Two of them, absorbed in isolating fear and finding each other in the dark. Hands wandering around with each kind word, and then the arousing jolt of remembering her naked flesh against his. Tail wrapped around her ankle while they made love under the plant covered moonlight. So beautiful under him, sensations he never thought he’d experience again.

He thought of making her his again so many times after. But in between then and now, he kept failing. Falling into disorder and defeat. People dying for his mistakes. Who would want someone like that? A man so past his prime he verged on cowardice, next to the hero of Baldur’s Gate. How could that ever make sense?

“Both of us were vulnerable at that time. You’re recovering from an attack, and…well, I know you appreciate honesty. My body is so excited from the fight, and from seeing you again, that if I get close enough I might take you here and now. Even though I’d come to regret being so forceful,” he explained.

Hot shame filled every corner of his face just for saying it. Avoiding her gaze even as she took deep breaths, standing from the bed again. This time, with success. Still slow, but steady in each step closer to Zevlor by the fireplace.

“You were always so hesitant about what you wanted,” Tav said, close behind him. The glow of the fire warmed one side of her exposed arms, fingers tickling against the fabric of his cotton shirt. Brushing the tip of her nose against his spine, taking in the scent of brimstone and pine. Her strength regained with each graze of her palm against him, light and teasing.

“I venture to deserve the things I want first,” he said, head down towards the flame. Closing his eyes to the feeling of Tav’s hand sliding from the back of his arm to the top of his hand. Rested on the mantle as she gave a gentle squeeze.

“Isn’t that up to me to decide?” She asked, taking the strap he once adjusted in place and pulling it down again. “You saved my life today. And I missed you terribly, Zevlor.”

Hand in hand, she turned him to face her. Tall and soldierly in front of her, head craning up to face him in all his glory. Fire crackled before them, leading her hand guiding his to her waist. His nails craved to dig into her skin, pull her close and never let go. She tiptoed into his embrace, other arm around her back, forming a gentle, passionate hug. Feeling her skin against his again, he was happy to die that moment.

“Are you sure this is what you want tonight? It was not my intention when I took you in to do this,” he said, wondering if she heard a word he said. She pushed their faces closer, lips hovering around each other. Temptation already too difficult bear as his mouth opened to bite into her supple flesh, but stopped short. “I won’t be able to control myself if you allow me this.”

Tav’s cool breath danced along his tongue, a full body desire to sob over how much she wanted him. To do what they did last time and pretend the world didn’t exist.

“You make me feel safe, Zevlor. I’ve been on my guard ever since we parted. Do you know how wonderful it feels to just…relax? Please, I want you near me. Inside me all night. Just like at the Grove. Hold me, Zevlor,” Tav said, her voice a crescendo of emotion from whisper to yelp.

Words weren’t enough, he had to be shown. Tav ruminated that very idea ever since they last parted. How a commander of a group like the Hellriders could end up so unsure of himself. Maybe he wasn’t always like that, but he was now. And she wasn’t inclined to change a thing. She laced her fingers under the straps of her slip, letting the fabric slowly waterfall off her body. In the wake of her naked form before him, she swore she could hear his beating heart. Rapid and fiery like the burning glimmer of the room.

“Can you promise me one thing?” He asked, hands pressed against her cheeks, lifting her eyes up to him. Round and ablaze with desire, warm and cool at the same time.

“Anything,” she whispered.

“Do not leave in the morning,” he said.

“I’ll never leave if that’s what you require.”

It was a kiss like never before. A whirlwind heart attack imploding between the two of them. Zevlor’s soul rose out of his body, taken over by the beckoning ache of her open mouth, welcoming his forked tongue. Tav melted into him, relishing in the hot pleasure of pressing her bare body against his clothed one. She clawed at his belt, longing for the image of his warrior frame above her. Scarred and toned by years of combat. Tail swivelling back and forth, a supplicant tying around her supple thigh.

Their voices hummed into each other, a hymn of blossoming want. Walking in tandem to the bed as Zevlor climbed over her, shuddering at the pleasure of pushing between her legs. He sat up on his knees, stretching his flexed back muscles as he pulled off his cotton shirt. A tingling sensation spread between Tav’s legs, cool air biting at her wet, sensitive core. She couldn’t resist the urge to run her hands across his torso, savouring every scar and mark, repeating her movements when he’d moan. His belt jingled below, unclasped as the imprint of a large erection outlined his pants. He was an impressive man…everywhere.

“Pull them down slowly, I want to see,” Tav ordered, voice dark and wistful with lust.

“At your command, my beautiful goddess,” he said, a low growl vibrating from the back of his throat. Taking slow, painful time in pulling down his trousers. Tav bit her lip, the excitement almost too much. A little tuft of pubic hair opened the door to a long, thick shaft, bouncing against Zevlor’s stomach when it finally broke free. Her mouth watered, licking up the collection of desperate saliva at the top corner of her lip.

Her heart fluttered, body hot and assured unlike before. That was the spell Zevlor had her under since they’d met. Empowering her just from being close, reminding her of the strength she still had. Not a thing of the past, but something to be embraced. And now, she had a chance to stay with him for more than a night. Protect each other, and revel in their primal need to be attached.

Discarding his pants with the rest of his clothes, Zevlor lowered, kissing between her bare breasts and down to her stomach. Heartfelt, exciting tickles made her giggle with a flirtatious ring. Shivering at the scratches his nails left in their stead. Relaxing every nerve within as she lay in his embrace, letting him take the lead. She hoped he’d always give her a chance to let go this way, think about nothing other than the pleasure he’d cover her in.

Between peppered kisses and flicks of his tongue along her stomach, he whispered, “You’re mine, I’ve wanted you to be since the moment I saw you. I’ll protect you, keep you safe. Come here.”

With untold force, Zevlor swung Tav’s legs onto his shoulders, capturing her cunt in his mouth. Jolts of ecstasy wet and savoured with each slide of his tongue across her clit. Sucking, licking, moaning into her without any attempt to catch his breath. Driven each time he tasted more of her essence. Unbridled to the point where she had to hold his horns to keep balance. The temperature of his hellfire skin stimulated her even more, muscles tightening with every weakened, whimpering moan that escaped her. Assertive, but slow, gentle even as he became primal against her. Letting the rhythm take her exactly where she needed to be.

Tav’s moans fluttered like butterflies, one hand clutching his horn and the other falling over her eyes, focusing on the chase of that wonderful high. Vampiric biting down of her lip, containing her innate need to be even louder. There would be time for that. Tonight, she wanted to sink into him, fall into a calming, warm pool of passionate affection. Enjoy the sensation of his body becoming a vessel for her pleasure, moving his tongue in just the way she liked.

Between tiny gasps, Tav said, “Zevlor…you’re going to make me cum. Please don’t stop…please.”

He didn’t reply, too focused on slurping up every trickle of sex that dripped out of her. He simply moaned, muffled by the soft grind of her pussy against his face. Building up to a climax that bloomed throughout her body, arching her back as she rode out an orgasm she had no idea she craved so deeply until it happened. He’d refuse to let her stop a second early, continuing to circle his tongue around her clit until she shook with sensitivity.

She melted into the bed, a thin veneer of sweat combining with the dripping warmth between her legs as Zevlor took his mouth off. Positively beautiful over her, muscular back bent in a perfect curve when he began to suckle and kiss around her neck and collarbone. Travelling downward in a desperate need to cover every inch. Landing with satisfaction on her nipples, laughing for the first time in years, lost in the joy of her.

Zevlor stopped for a moment, lifting his head to face her below him. Tranquil and drunk with sinful pleasure, cheeks filled with rosy blush and eyes glazed over. Arms splayed out like the wings of a celestial Aasimar. He loathed the past, for so many reasons, but mostly because she wasn’t there with him. In her infinite beauty, a plush and wanton solace before him. How did he ever stomach being away from her since they’d met?

“I’m sorry for leaving you after that night. Forgive me?” He asked.

Tav laughed, spellbound to the point of forgetting she was ever upset. As if he’d never left. She said, “You may need to convince me a little more, hellrider.”

Something switched off within him, a zealous need to have her succumb to him. Forgive him for his misgivings. Praying to a new goddess and asking for redemption. Offering himself to her by inching his cock deep inside her, feeling the pull of her soft walls lock him in. Driven to eternal admiration from the sound of her shocked, euphoric moan, submitting to the stretch of him. An addictive sting, exposed to every synapse erupting within her sensitive, yearning cunt. She bit her bottom lip with a smile, shivering at the comforting wrap of his tail around her waist to keep her in place. No escaping the loving, dominant thrust of his hips deep into her.

“Forgive me,” he said, “Forgive me. Forgive me!” A passionate, hard thrust into her pussy each time he said it.

The might of him rendered her eyes at the back of her head, nearly unable to reply as he begged for her forgiveness. Her slick smacking against his pubic bone, gushing onto his cock in a lustful mess of an orgasm begging to come back. Tav snaked her arms across Zevlor’s shoulders for dear life, brought to the edge with his heavy grunts in her ear. She tightened around him, rocking back and forth on the bed, closer and closer to release.

He felt the contracting of her around him, unfulfilled by her silence on forgiveness. Just as she was about to finish, he pulled out of her, smacking the tip of his cock against her clit repeatedly. Listening to her whine and whimper, threatening tears. Then, before she knew it, he thrusted back in, hard and unmerciful. Pulling out again, repeating that pattern.

“Have I earned your forgiveness? Or shall I deny you until you use your words all night? Tell me, am I absolved, goddess?” He growled, voice husky and feral, the militant part of him revealing just enough of itself to command her to his whim.

By the fourth thrust and pull, she wailed, “Yes, gods above, I forgive you! There’s nothing to forgive, just make love to me!”

He pushed inside her fully, smashing his lips against hers at the same time. Holding her hips in line to use his infernal ridges as friction against her swollen clit. Locking his hand into hers, supported above her head while he thrusted and thrusted with reckless abandon. Both of them grunting in tandem, overcome with delayed pleasure. Tav found her footing quickly, edged so deliciously that her orgasm ripped through her with little effort, squeezing onto his cock. Her nails dug into his knuckles, mouth hanging open in awe over the intensity of her second climax.

Pulling from the kiss, he struggled against his own release. Mourning for the eventual time when he’d have to leave her cunt. Comfortable, warm and wet, a shelter from all harm. He couldn’t stand it yet, and used his tail around her waist to flip her onto her side, like fresh sand in the palm of his hand.

“Let me lie next to you,” he said, moving his body in a spoon position, chest pressed against her back, “I want to cum with you in my arms.”

Tav mustered a whisper thin ‘please’ under her breath, running her hands through his hair as he snuggled in behind her. The curve of her spine angled just right for him to sheathe himself inside her once more. Pumping slowly this time, arms and tail curled across her body like ivy against an ancient wall. Kissing the side of her neck, an endless waterfall of tenderness mixed with the possessive thrust of his cock. She was completely enveloped, safe and sound in his embrace, floating in the paradise he gave her.

“You’re with me, now. Right here, safe. Does that feel good? Am I pleasing you, goddess? Might I cum inside you?” He whispered in her ear, low and gruff. Intense bravado oozing from every part.

She was awash with sensual energy, captivated by him just like the first time. Although that was much quieter, fearing someone might hear them. Now, she felt as if they were sharing a home. In the privacy of their own dwelling, even if that was a fantasy.

“Oh, yes, you are perfect. I want your everything, Zevlor. Please, give me everything,” she replied, taking care to run her tongue up and down his bottom lip before she pushed them into a wet, feverish kiss. Flicking her tongue against his teeth, relishing in the sharp edge.

Their mouths were open to each other when he felt the stirrings of his climax. Languishing movements lost rhythm as he climbed ever forward into that much desired sensation. Possessed by the supple flesh of her lips and everything else. Hips, breasts, stomach, ass, everything. Falling into her deep, insane at the ache of his cock inside her. He breathed out a hard, rapturous moan before he let himself spill, soaking her cunt with the cum that twitched out of him. Dribbling out of the side as she lay before him with a wide, calm smile. Their muscles relaxed together, fusing into the bed.

Tav shivered, the slide of his cock pulling out sending a shock in her spine. Imbued with comfort immediately as Zevlor pulled a thin sheet over her. Tucking her into the blankets and the warm hold of him. Snuggling tight into her, yearning to find a way to fuse his body with hers. Kissing the top of her head, lingering to take in her scent.

“You did not smell of rosemary when we last saw each other,” he said, “That’s always been a favourite of mine. Rosemary.”

Tav grinned, turning to face him. A much needed distraction to keep her heavy eyelids from shutting for the night. To see him once more, maybe twice. Absorb all she missed in the year past. His handsome, aged face glowing under firelight. Sandy hair, messy and dotted with sweat. Strong hands stuck tight to her hips. All she imagined came to life.

Zevlor held her hand, kissing each knuckle, down to the bottom of her palm. A touch so ethereal, he could have been giving healing magic. Rescuing her both outside and in, cleansing her soul of all evil and wrongdoing endured before.

“We’ll replenish your lost supplies tomorrow,” he said, her hand close to his face, “If you’ll allow me to accompany you?”

She smiled, containing its ever widening stretch. “Well, we do have a great deal to catch up on.”

[puma-riki]

✮⋆˙Can't Feel My Face˙⋆✮

Synopsis: Rockstar! Heeseung as your boyfriend

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: REUPLOAD ON MY NEW ACCOUNT

Heeseung | Jay | Jake | Sunghoon | Sunoo | Jungwon | Ni-ki

--------------------------------------------------------

Rockstar! Heeseung is a global sensation. His fame is international, his name alone sends shockwaves through the music industry, and he has fans from across the globe who worship the ground he walks on.

Rockstar! Heeseung sells out massive venues in every major city. Fans are captivated by his performances which are a magnetic display of raw sensuality and dark captivating energy

Rockstar! Heeseung has designer brands tripping over their own feet to have him model their product. His face on their advertisements promises sales to skyrocket.

Rockstar! Heeseung is highly sought after both in the industry and by fans everywhere.

Rockstar! Heeseung is also off the market and pathetically shameless about it

Rockstar Boyfriend! Heeseung has been dating you since before his debut

He boasts about you every chance he gets to whoever will listen, his fans, interviewers, hell even the paparazzi that follow him everywhere.

"Heeseung! You did so well today, the energy was insane!"

"Ah, Thank you thank you. My girlfriend was in the crowd with you guys, so you know I had to make it memorable."

"Fans are dying to know what the inspiration behind this album is! Your new album blew straight to the top of the charts upon release and it truly is a masterpiece. So what's the story behind it?"

"Ah, Thank you so much, truly. My girlfriend actually was a big inspiration behind this album-"

"Heeseung! Heeseung! Where are you headed after the show tonight!?"

"I'm going to my girlfriend's!"

His fans (like anyone) know about you and actually find your relationship sooo cute. Often at his shows and fan meets, his fans will actually be the first to bring you up.

"Heeseung, I made this for [name], could you give it to her next time you see her?"

"Of course, She'll love this actually!"

Being famous also means he earns money faster than he can spend it.

That being said he loves buying you stuff, whether you're with him or not.

He could be in a whole different country and he'll see something that he thinks you'd like or would look good on you or something stupid that just reminds him of you and he's already swiping his card.

"Heeseung, you don't have to, this is too expensive for me."

"Which is why I'm buying it, If you like it there's no reason you cant have it, angel"

You will be all over Heeseung's social media and even his YouTube channel, which his management runs.

Heeseungs personal social media is mostly edgy promotional stuff, but he likes posting pictures of you and him together.

His YouTube is primarily for behind-the-scenes chats. Behind-the-scenes photoshoots, music video shoots, and even concert performances.

And you're in majority of these videos because Heeseung tries to bring you literally everywhere with him if you're able to come with him

In an interview he'll gush about how nervous he is to shoot something because you'll be watching from behind the cameras

"You look amazing in this collection. What do you think?"

"Thank you, but I think [name] would look 100 times better in this collection than I do!"

And the editors will add a little note like "Gushing about his girlfriend, [name]"

Hee[name]luvr23: editors thought we were new lol

User27578: if you don't know [name] then do you even know who Heeseung is LMAO

You appear so often that you'll even get your own little interview segment.

"What are my thoughts on today's shoot? I think Heeseung does everything well, his expressions and stage presence is always so intricate. He couldn't possibly mess anything up today, he looks great."

You basically gain your own fanbase from Heeseung without doing anything

Like you have fan accounts and everything Heeseung eats up those edits of you

Backstage moments at concerts are also not free from Heeseung's constant talk about you, cameras present or not.

"Everything's ready for you, we're just waiting to start. Are you ready?"

"Yeah, definitely. Oh by the way, [name] picked out my outfit for tonight. She said it would make me look more rockstar-like. What do we think?"

"Well, she's not wrong."

HeeHee1015: EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU [NAME], GOOD LOOORRDDD

[name]'slovebot: just put [name] on his styling team already HE LOOKS SO GOOD OMFGFDSHWAKJ

Heeseung, being the music prodigy he is, spends a lot of time in the studio with his producer. His music is a hypnotic blend of dark sultry beats and atmospheric melodies that pull his listeners into a world of sensuality and introspection.

His sound is smooth yet edgy, weaving elements of R&B and synth-pop to create tracks exploring themes of love, desire, and inner conflict.

His lyrics cut deep. Filled with vulnerability, seduction, and desire also WHINY ASS HELL.

So what's this cheesy pop boy band love song doing in there?

While a lot of his songs are about you and follow that dark and sultry vibe, he does like to explore other genres of music and make something that's just special for you.

His producers know good and well why there's songs like that sprinkled in his edgy discography.

But that doesn't stop them from asking just to give him a hard time.

"This one really stands out from the other tracks. What's the story here?"

"Oh, it's uh... you know, for [name]. Just felt like I had to sneak it in there. She's on my mind all the time so it only makes sense."

like it's okay we can all see you blushing behind that mic no need to be shy

He also LOVES to sample voicemails and voice messages you send him, he also asks you to come into the studio to record adlibs and/or to be on background vocals.

He thinks your voice is heavenly someone save him

---

Heeseung is hunched in front of his computer in his studio late at night, working on a new track for his album. Your voice plays through his headphones as he's tweaking it to fit into the intro to his song. He's oblivious to your knocks on the door.

You peek through the door and spot your boyfriend, repeatedly clicking his mouse as he works and resting his chin on the palm of his hand. You smile softly and step into the room, shutting the door behind you.

"Boo." You say, slipping heeseungs headphones off his ears. He jumps slightly before smiling and swiveling his chair around towards you.

"Hey, is this my voice?" You ask furrowing your eyebrows as you hear the song blasting from his headphones.

He only grins and pulls you to sit in his lap, "Come listen," You pull the headphones over your ears as Heeseung lets the track play from the beginning. Sure enough, your voice is being played in the intro of his song, muffled because its an old voicemail you had left him, however long ago you dont remember.

"You're really out here sampling anything into your songs." You playfully roll your eyes and slip the headphones off your head and place them on his desk.

"Hey, its not just anything. Your voice totally fits the vibe of this song. And it makes the song more..." He trails off trying to find the right words, while you run your fingers through his hair. It's already tousled and messy from the amount of times he's run his own hands through it. "...more personal. It makes it feel more intimate and real."

"mmm, really?" You hum, a finger trailing from his temple down to trace his jaw. The way Heeseung always weaves pieces of you into his music makes your heart flutter and your heart race.

Heeseung's arms tighten around your waist, trying to bring you impossibly closer. His lips purse into a line as he looks at you with star-filled eyes, something he does when he wants something.

"Hey, I was thinking, actually... could you record a few lines for the backtrack. And maybe you could hum like you just did." He sounds almost breathless when he says the last part, he doesn't mean too but you're so close to him and you look so gorgeous.

"you're ridiculous," You playfully roll your eyes, resting your hands on his shoulders. "It's almost 3 in the morning, Hee. You should go to bed and come back to this tomorrow."

Heeseung is a simple and weak man so who is he to protest. "Okay, how about a kiss in the meantime then?"

---

His friends, love you to death like that's gang, but Jesus Christ if they hear one more thing from Heeseung about you then you're gonna be out of a boyfriend.

Jay: Remember that after party in Tokyo?

Heeseung: Oh yeah, I remember before that [name] and I got lost trying to find this ramen house and ended up walking around the whole city before we found it.

Sunghoon: Bro, we were talking about the party.

Like I said before, Heeseung tries to bring you everywhere.

He gets so excited when he brings you as a plus one to red-carpet events and gets to match outfits with you

Will just about die if you try to step away from him, so reporters can take photos of him.

"What are you doing all the way back there??"

"I'm just giving you space so they can't take photos of you, Hee"

"But I want you up here with me."

pouty and utterly pathetic

and also captured on camera because fans go crazy over Heeseung pouting over you even being 2 steps away from him. Like okay, my turn when?

Your #1 hype boy

Always redirects attention to you when you guys are interviewed at these events

and you're a bit embarrassed because like?? YOU'RE the plus one, HE was invited here lmfao

"Heeseung! You look so good tonight. Who's you're date!?"

"My girlfriend, [name] We're matching tonight but I think she definitely pulls this look off better than me!"

Then he makes you twirl for the camera and the camera will zoom out to show both of you and Heeseungs eyes are GLUED to you and everyone can see the love and adoration in his eyes.

Also super attentive during these events and also when you're out in public with him in general

"Are you good? Are you ready for all of this?"

"Is this okay with you?"

"Let me know if you're uncomfortable, okay?"

"Just say the word and I'll take you home, angel."

Atp I think he's more eager to go home than you are.

If you thought he couldn't be more affectionate than he already is well, [loud incorrect buzzer]

While Heeseung likes to brag and gush about you in public, he tries to keep the PDA minimal.

Behind closed doors is a different story though, good luck lol.

Will be all over you, he'll follow you around the apartment and latch onto you like you'll disappear into thin air

After Heeseungs had a particularly long day, which is pretty much every day with flying to another country and back on some days and having dragging schedules on others, All he wants to do is come home and laze around with his girlfriend

His favorite thing is laying in bed with you at night, whether your both scrolling on your phones, talking, or something else.

He likes that you both can enjoy each other's company without having to do or say anything.

He likes being able to lay on you most of the time, but he's definitely not complaining when you're the one practically lying on top of him.

Sometimes when you fall asleep before him, he'll go live to talk to his fans for a few minutes and he likes to sneakily pan the camera down to his chest where your fast asleep.

No particular reason he just thinks you look cute and likes to flex that he has the most gorgeous girl on the planet lying in bed with him.

[name]luvr: SHES SO CUTIE OMFG

user6738: Heeseung can you gtfo of the way, I'm trying to admire your gf

lowkey fights with his fans over you (all jokes ofc)

"Heeseung will you let [name] know that I saved 100 kittens from a fire today and drove them to new homes in my lambo (I'm 6'2 btw).. okay well I saved 200 kittens, now what?"

"are you 6'2 tho, do not ever let me catch you in the streets br- ow!"

"You're being too loud, Hee"

There must be something in the morning air because he is crazy.

The morning sun filters through the curtains of your apartment. You and Heeseung are still in bed, no plans for the day. You're awake just teetering the edge of sleep and being fully awake

"Do you want anything for breakfast? I could make something"

The thought of you leaving him and the warmth of your bed right now just about kills him because he hugs you closer to his body and buries his face in your neck

"I'd rather just have you right here."

Oh!

"Wow, smooth talker." You playfully roll your eyes

"Only for you."

[writteninlunarlight-years]

My Espresso

A repost of one of my first-ever stories. I guess it got deleted in my purge. Here it is back once again with a better name, lol

The day you died was tragic indeed for all parties involved. Your deranged stalker who killed you now serves life in prison, your fans continue to broadcast your music regularly, crying their eyes out, and your record label is on the hunt for the next ‘Hit’ girl. The only problem was you were a one-of-a-kind, naturally gifted with vocal cords, so sweet and sultry everyone fell for you. Your varying music genres make you an addiction to almost any music fanatic. You were the singer of your time. 

How did you keep that title for so long? Simply put, due to becoming the designated ‘shot of espresso everyone needs to wake up and have a good day,’ your fans were less than kind to any new artists or rising stars. You were an Angle, sweet inside and out, never letting your fame get to your head. However, many scandals and theories have been made that people can never surpass you because you sold your soul or hired people to knock down your competition. None of this was true, though. You were simply a bystander to your fan's actions, not wanting to seem unthankful for all the support that got you there.

Then it happened: your death. One minute, you were walking to the coffee shop by your apartment in the city when a strange man started yelling at you. Of course, the one day you don’t have a bodyguard leave with you, the paparazzi show up. If only that man were a paparazzi; as he got closer, you noticed the lack of camera, the deranged look in his eyes, and the shirt he wore saying, ‘Y/N be my wife.’ All you could think of doing at that moment was trying to make some distance between you and him, seeing as the streets were barren since it was late at night. Why did your best music writing have to happen late at night? Running as fast as you could, the man grew angry, and then bam, next thing you know, you wake up on the streets of a city, not your city; no, this was too red.

As you stood up from your prone position, you glanced at a window only to see not you standing there; well, it was you. It looked like you, but it also didn't look like you. Soft tan skin, chocolate brown hair, Hazel eyes, and a white, tan, and brown outfit adorned your body. You looked like the embodiment of the coffee you would drink at your go-to coffee spot. If only you hadn’t gone there that night. Maybe you would be your normal (E/c), (H/c), (S/c) self. 

Thinking hard about everything that happened, you remember being chased, him yelling obscenities at you, being shoved to the ground, something warm on your face, then a loud bang noise. What was that bang? You only remember the warm, sticky feeling, probably blood from hitting your head on the curb, then you fought a bit, squirming around; the bang must have been a concealed weapon of your assailant's choice. Jeeze, people are crazy…Oh fuck, your dead. You died. Gone. A memory. As this realization came to you, you began walking the streets of this new city.

All the inhabitants of this place looked like those demons you would see on TV or even read about in books. Looking up at the horizon, you see a large building with a flashing sign called the “Hazbin Hotel,” a giant ball to the left that looked like it had wings on it, and above you, a giant pentagram. The pieces finally clicked: you were in Hell, but why you were the sweetest human alive, even fame, didn’t get to you. Maybe Heaven reads tabloids and assumes you did participate in the fate of many of your rivals or that they thought you were a greedy pop star. Sighing softly, you turn your back on the hotel and make your way to the first place that helped you start up in the human world: a cheap manager at a cheap venue. 

~~~Years Later~~~

Years had passed since Mimzy and her crew had taken you in. She was the only demon in Pentagram City that didn’t ask for your soul immediately. Course, as you found out yourself, it’s because her soul, too, was taken from her. Meeting Mimzy was a breath of fresh air; she reminded you of your grandmother and all the pictures you saw of her singing and dancing at nightclubs when she was your age. Mimzy took you under her wing, gave you a palace to sing your sweet new music, and protected you with her clientele. Mimzy did have a habit of getting herself into some deep shit, though. Nothing you couldn’t help with, see as your popularity in Pentagram City grew, so did your powers. Some even compared you to Lilith when she was still around, a voice to conjoin the masses. You were no Lilith; you were simply ‘Y/N,’ so you compromised for a reprise of your old title: ‘ A shot of espresso to keep you going.’ Honestly, who knew demons still partook in human drinks and activities? 

As you began preparing for your next act at Mimzy’s club, said woman entered your dressing room. “Doll, oh, look at you so gorgeous. You're not as gorgeous as me, but you're still amazing. I have big news for ya’ Come and sit with me, deary.” Following Mimzy’s orders, you went to the small sofa in your Dressing Room and sat with her. “What is it, Mimz? Did you get in more trouble with those loan sharks? I told you they are dangerous; this owner of your soul is a real slow ass seeing as I have to save their ‘precious’ soul over and over again.” 

Mimzy just laughed, waving her hand in your face, resituating herself to look you in the eye before speaking again: " Don't worry about that doll. Of course, I would keep that opinion to yourself. He’s back and probably can hear everything around us. Speaking of which, that is why I came here. My dear friend Alastor and the princess of hell are coming to visit our lovely establishment. Make sure to knock their socks off!” 

You nodded softly to Mimzy, laughing at her; she was a firecracker of energy—a troublemaker, yes, but a firecracker of energy. Mimzy quickly excused herself, saying she needed to be ready to meet her guests and introduce the acts for the night. You sighed softly, returning to double-check your makeup and clothes again. 

Looking like a gorgeous espresso martini, as Mimzy calls it, you stood center stage, waiting for the curtain to rise. You hear Mimzy’s tiny heels hitting the stage and some mic feedback. “Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you our star of the stage, your shot of espresso to boost you through hard times, our dame so beautiful and sweet, Y/N.” Cheers erupted in the audience as the curtain rose and a soft amber spotlight landed on you. 

Looking out into the audience, you hesitated for a minute. A handsome man in a red suit sat in the center of the tables. He looked like a deer, not the oddest thing you have seen in the city. The way he was looking at you, though, was intense. You felt the need to cringe and back away like his power exceeded that of an average Sinner. He looked dominating, powerful, and scary even though he had a giant smile plastered on his face. Next to him sat a young-looking girl with big red cheeks. She looked so happy to be present at this event. Her blonde hair was pulled into a bun on her head, with a black crown adoring her. Your boss, Mimzy, was on the other side of the smiling demon, giving you a big thumbs up. 

You took a deep breath when the song started to play on the drums and guitar behind you. You began to sing the song that had never been released to the public before you died. This was an important night for Mimzy, so why not go all out? As you began to sing, the nerves washed off of you, and you started to do your choreography, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of deep red eyes following your every move. As the song ended, you stopped center stage again, a soft, elegant smile gracing your face. “ Thank you so much, everyone. That was called Espresso, and I do hope you all enjoyed it. I will freshen up; please enjoy our band as they play some classic and new hits throughout the ages.” As you bowed and motioned to the band, they began to play. You walked off the stage, quickly stopping at your dressing room before heading to the floor and meeting the others at their table. 

You finally heard this mysterious, powerful demon's voice as you approached the table. “I never took you as the kind to allow other music in your establishment, Mimzy. Weren’t you also one always found of our time's music.” Mimzy just laughed, slapping the demon's arm. Stopping behind the group, you noticed the demon's ears pull back; he knew you were there, good. You cleared your throat for the others and spoke gently, “I’m sorry. Was there a problem with my song, sir? I didn't realize I would be in the presence of a music critic in hell.” 

The tension in the club could be cut with a knife as the demon let out a soft laugh and turned to view you. The young girl beside him was visibly panicking while Mimzy held a laugh back. The demon stood, bowing slightly and extending his hand to you. “Well, dear Y/N, it's nice to meet you. My name is Alastor the Radio Demon, and if you would like to call me whatever it was, you just made music by all means; I must be your critic.” That smile on his face never faltered. It stayed plastered there, if not a little more strained. Gently taking Alastors hand, you curtsied for him and stood straight and tall again, preparing to speak. “Well, Mr. Alastor, you don't seem to have good music taste, seeing as I am a prized singer in hell.” The two of you stared intensely at one another, sparks flying between your eyes. Mimzy cleared her throat, “ Y/N, this is Alastor, as he mentioned, the demon that owns my soul; he also runs the Hazbin Hotel with Miss Charlie Morningstar here.” 

You let go of Alastors hand, breaking eye contact first to greet the young girl. Charlie was the polar opposite of ‘Mr. Music Critic’. She compliments you and tells you how you reminded her of her mother, who has been missing for seven years. Keeping conversation with Charlie, Alastor, and Mimzy began to speak on the side. “Isn’t she interesting, Alastor? She had to have been powerful even in her human form. She may not be your level of scary, but she is something. When I found her within a month, Valentino had come to claim her and ask for her soul; she whooped him physically and mentally; she's quick-witted and cunning.” Alastor nodded knowingly; this could be advantageous to him. 

“Mimzy darling, why have you not sold her off yet? Could make a pretty penny off of her, maybe enough to pay me back for your soul.” Alastor stared at you intently. He couldn’t deny you were attractive in a beauty standard since, and the fact you weren’t afraid of him even if he dominated you in power was intriguing. Mimzy slapped Alastor’s shoulder, “She's like a daughter to me; she's sweet, smart, and a helluva singer. Why would I risk losing business here selling her off to the Vees or any other overlord.”

Tuning into Mimzy’s and Alastor's conversation, you turned to look at the Radio Demon in the eyes once more. “She also can’t get rid of me due to the fact I save her ass more so than you ever have or will.” The authority in your voice even frightened you. The smile on Alastors face tightened more, changing from boredom to interest. “Oh, is that so doll? You save my property for me.” You nod curtly to the demon holding his gaze. The smile slowly morphed into a smirk. Charlie chimes in, “Well, guys, it looks like we have overstayed our welcome; Y/N, you were phenomenal. Please let me know whenever you have your next performance. You have my number!” You nod softly to the cheerful girl before returning to the Radio Demon. 

As you all begin to stand from your seats, Alastor disappears and reappears at your side. “Ms. Y/N, it seems I have a business proposition for you. As Charlie loved your performance so much and I seem to have bad taste in music, how about we strike a deal? You come to the hotel and live there for free; you can sing once a week, and if you can pull in some more sinners looking to be redeemed, I will admit you have the better music. I will also allow you to broadcast your music on my radio.” You stared at the demon timidly, but no one made a deal that didn’t involve losing their soul. You brace yourself for the answer and speak purposefully, “What is it for you if I lose?” Alastor smiled at you menacingly, “I get your soul, of course, and you will do my bidding.” 

You hesitated, contorting your face slightly; losing your soul was not something you wanted to happen; no one did. You looked between Alastor and Mimzy rapidly, a slight panic overcoming you. As you go to speak, Charlie takes your place, “ Alright, Alastor, enough scaring people; we are leaving now. Let's go.” Alastor looked at Charlie before looking back at you. He nods slightly before saying, “I will return in the morning. Have your decision ready.” With that said, the duo left the club.

The night continued like normal; you sang a couple more songs and mulled over the conversation. You won't lie even if you were sweet on earth. Being here in hell made you a lot more prideful than when you were alive. Had someone offered such a stupid bet in the human world, you would politely decline, move on, and let your fans handle them. Alastor, though, something about him and this stupid condescending attitude made your blood boil. As the night closed, you came up with your decision. You went to your dressing room and began to pack a bag for the morning. You were so wrapped in your thoughts hating that stupid Radio Demon that you didn't hear Mimzy walk in. As you finished packing and turned around, Mimzy sat on your couch, a frown on her face. Setting everything down, you walked over to her and sat with her. 

Mimzy looked at you softly, her regular, boisterous exterior fading as her calmer interior emerged. “Y/N, you don’t have to do this. I shouldn’t have done this. I only invited them to show Al how much better I was doing even after his absence. I didn’t expect him to bargain your soul with him.” You gently grabbed Mimzy's hand and looked at her, “Mimz, I got this. I am one of the best singers in hell. I will not lose my soul, and maybe I can bargain him into freeing your soul-” Before you could finish your thought, Mimzy stood up, tears in her eyes, “NO Y/N! You-You don't understand; Alastor is a notorious and powerful demon. He won’t give up mine or your soul. There is always an underlying bargain in his deals.” You looked up at Mimzy. She had never yelled at you like that before, even after ruining her favorite pink dress. Mimzy sat down gently and hugged you close before letting go. “Let me tell you Al’s story, the best I know of it anyway.” 

Even after hearing Mimzy’s story, you are set on proving yourself. Why did you feel the need to? You could only chalk it up to wanting to wipe that stupid smile off the demon's face. You stood outside the entrance of Mimzy’s club, holding her hand. “Y/N, you don't have to do this. Just ignore him.” You shook your head at Mimzy before responding. “I can do this, Mimzy. Trust me. You know where I am if you ever need me.” She nods somberly and hugs you close. The Radio Demon appears out of the shadows as you two part ways. “Hello ladies, Y/N, Mimzy, what a touching display of affection. Are you ready to strike our deal, Y/N?” You nod gently, extending your hand to the demon. With a soft chuckle, he grabbed your hand. Greenlight erupted all around you. Shadows and relic symbols appeared around you as the deal was bound. As the green lights faded, you were sucked into the shadows with Alastor and taken to a Hotel on the other side of Pentagram City. 

The hotel was lovely, nothing too overwhelming like when you were still alive. It was quaint and adorable. You could tell that Charlie put her heart into the place. Walking through the entrance to your left, you notice a bar with a black and grey cat sitting there drinking. Taking the initiative and having the desire to start already pissing the Radio Demon off, you walked away to greet the cat. “Hello, there one espresso martini, please; my name is Y/N, and I’m going to be a new resident and singer for the hotel.” Hearing your words, the cat looked up at you, practically spitting his whiskey onto the bar before collecting himself and cleaning up. In a gruff voice, he responded, “Never thought I would see the day we got more willing redeemers. Thought Sir Pentious would be our only one.” 

You laughed, covering your mouth politely as the cat put your drink before you. As he finished wiping the bar down, Alastor appeared behind you. “Ahhhh, good friend, you have met our new resident artist. Y/N, this is Husk or Husker, as some patrons call him.” You nodded politely to the cat demon, sipping your drink. Alastor sat next to you, staring the cat down. He acted like it was a sin that Husk even talked to you. As you finished your glass, a spider demon walked into the building, groaning about his day at work, sitting on your other side, and ordering a straight martini.

As he rose his head up, looking to great Alastor, he saw you. “WOAH toots, who are ya’ you gorgeous? I didn’t know another pretty thing like me walked these streets.” You smiled sweetly at the spider demon, sticking your hand out to shake his hand. You liked him. He had spunk. “My name is Y/N, and I am the new resident singer of this joint.” Silence filled the room; the spider demon's eyes widened. Looking at him confused, you pulled your hand back and awkwardly sat there. Behind you, Alastors voice rang, “Yes, dear flamboyant friend, that Y/N, the one who took Valentino down a few pegs before he became part of the Vees.” 

The spider's smile grew ten times as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “Toots, let's be best friends, deal. My name is Angel Dust. It's a pleasure to meet you.” You laughed softly, connecting that this Angel Dust might be the soul of that awful month. “Deal, I need new friends now that I am out of Mimzys club.” Husker dropped his bottle, causing a shattering noise as he turned to stare down Alastor. “You were Mimzy’s singer; what are you doing here?” Alastor stared down Husker, the ever-growing smile present on his face as power exuded off of him. “Simple Husk, can’t you tell she's in a deal with me.” The room went silent as you looked down at your hands. Based on everyone's reactions, you soon realized you were fucked. 

The tension was thick between the three of you, Angel silent, not daring to interfere in a soul contract, Husker glaring at Alastor, and the Radio Demon eating up everyones distrust. What felt like hours passing was only a few minutes when Charlie and another woman appeared walking down the stairs. “I am telling you, Vaggie, I heard a new voice.” Your eyes connected with Charlie when she let out an excited squeal, barreling down to you. You laughed softly, happy the tension was broken, and hugged the excited girl back. “Oh my goodness, you came here! Are you trying to be redeemed? I am so excited! Vaggie, this is the singer I told you about!” You looked at the other girl and waved at her. When Alastor stood, she nodded back, getting ready to speak to you; however, Alastor had removed Charlie from your embrace. “Sorry, dear Charlie, but Y/N is part of my deal. She will be a new singer for the hotel, as Husk is the bartender, and Niffty the cleaner.” 

As if hearing her name, a tiny, child-looking demon crawled from the depths of somewhere and sat on Alastors shoulder. “Wowie lady, you must sing well for Alastor to vouch for you. You aren’t no bad boy, but you look like you could be tough.” You stood wide-eyed in shock at the minor demon that seemed to spawn into existence. Alastor stood beside you, shooing Niffty off him and placing a firm hand on your shoulder. “Alright, dear Y/N, why don’t I show you to the drawing room where you will perform? You have three days before your big performance.” Everyone looked at the hand placed on your shoulder, confusion laced on their faces. Was Alastor, not a touchy person? All you’ve known of this man was for him to be touching you in some dominating way. You nodded briefly, following the demon to the drawing room. 

You had been practicing hard for the last three days. You met Sir Pentious while in the middle of a practice performance. He was apparently your biggest fan and regularly played your music in his blimp. You signed some autographs for him and told him he was welcome to come and watch whenever he felt like it. Of course, he never did come back while you were practicing. Angel Dust said Alastor frightened the snake demon, who was “getting too close to you and distracting you.” This only confused you: why is Alastor so against any demon getting close to you except for the striking spider demon? Two, why does he care if you get distracted? Shouldn’t he want you to lose so he can keep your soul? These thoughts plagued your mind every day as you practiced. You decided to do a four-song set, your three most popular songs and the new one you debuted at Mimzys place before you left, as a nod back to your old home. 

Throughout your days here, you have noticed so many odd quirks about these residents, but nothing too crazy. I mean, it is hell after all. Angel Dust was a famed porn star for Valentino; Husker used to gamble at the high-end casino in town; Nifty liked cock roaches; Charlie and Vaggie were fighting with Heaven about Sinners being redeemed. Even Sir Pentious had a past saying he tried to kill Alastor, which made you laugh and congratulate the snake demon. The only major oddball was Alastor; every resident said he was acting different, more pompous, possessive, and aggressive. Before you showed up in his life, he was just a condescending asshole who smiled all the time and had a wicked sarcasm streak. 

What made you special? You have been nothing but mean to this man, trying to get a rise out of him and knock him down a few pegs. The main consense from every resident after they learned of your deal is to be careful; he's a master manipulator. The tidbits of information you learned of Alastor were as follows: he hosted a radio show that, up until seven years ago, played screams of his victims; he still very much missed the 1920s; Jazz was his favorite music, makes sense why he hated your pop music, and lastly like any true child of the bayou he enjoyed his coffee, his coffee with three shots of espresso. No wonder the man was wired 24/7. 

Alastor was also not a touchy man; the only person any resident had seen him touch so constantly was you. Why? No one knows the answer; Angel Dust has his theories that he “has the hots for ya toots.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that notion. The pompous, rude, robust, attractive, funny, charismatic Deer Demon didn't have a thing for you. Okay, yes, you have a thing for him, though; what changed in the three days of getting close to him and everyone else? You have no real idea; you only know that the day you realized you had more than aggressive feelings for him was two nights ago.

~~~Flashback~~~

You had been summoned to the famed radio tower by Alastor. He had a treat for you, as he put it. Following Niffty's instructions, you ended up before the radio demon's door. Now you heard the rumors already he killed and broadcasted in his tower. Did your deal mean nothing? Was it a ruse to get rid of someone with a little bit of power? You must have been standing there for too long in your thoughts because before you knew it, Alastor had opened the door for you. “Ah, dear Y/N, come on in. We have a broadcast to get to.” You nodded gently and followed him inside. 

Taking your place beside Alastor, you notice how cluttered his desk is. You stifle a laugh; the thought of the infamous radio demon who looked so clean and polished having anything untidy amused you. You see Alastor pouring his regular coffee as you turn to the small end table with some chairs. “Alastor, I never would have taken you for a coffee drinker. You seem more refined to like English teas or other sophisticated drinks.”

Alastor just looked at you with a small, unstrained smile. As he finished his drink and poured you one, he said, “Nonsense dear Y/N coffee is highly sophisticated; Louisiana was a large export of coffee grounds we lived for this drink. Coffee was the way to go when we needed to work long hours tending to fields or making ends meet at factories.” You nodded gently, amazed that this man remembered his life so well after so long. While you sat and drank your coffee, Alastor got up to prepare the broadcast. While he was busy, you took this time to examine the Deer Demon in more detail. 

He was handsome; his fringe was odd but suited him well, the unforced smile looked attractive, and his suit was perfectly fitted, leaving just enough imagination about what lay underneath. As you caught yourself having this thought, you shook your head, setting your cup down violently. Alastor turned to look at you, his smile still soft but a questioning look in his eyes. You coughed softly into your napkin and stood to meet Alastor at his desk before speaking. “So Al, what is it you need of me.” His reaction to the nickname did not go unnoticed.

Now, the original reason you decided to use the nickname he hated was to get under his skin, but instead of doing that, he smiled at you wider. Gently, he placed a microphone and headphones in your hand. You looked up at him with a curious gaze. “I believe that for people to know you are here at the hotel and will sing, they need a sample. We may have a deal on the line, but I am no cheater.” You nodded, smiling at him; maybe he wasn’t so bad. As the broadcast started, though, the same pompous ass hole came out. Boasting about being missed and how he can't wait to give Sinners of hell an actual broadcast, he introduced you. “Now, my dear patrons, I introduce Y/N. Some of you may know her and even love her, but tonight she will be singing a song for you, a taste into her performance that will be happening here at the Hazbin Hotel in two days.” 

You gripped the microphone and started singing one of your more classic songs. Only the people at Mimzys club that night had heard the new song, and you didn't want to ruin the surprise you had been working on for your concert. As you sang, you couldn’t help but notice the red eyes boring into you. Was Alastor checking you out? No, of course not. This is just to even out the deal. However, how his eyes softened and he hummed gently to your tune made your heart flutter. He sure learned one of your songs for someone who hated your music. 

As you finished your part in his broadcast, Alastor played some old-time Jazz, muting the mics before leading you out the door. You said your goodnights and began to walk away when Alastor grabbed your arm. You turned to look at him, a sweet, innocent look in your eyes; a part of you wanted him to kiss you right there. However, you could see his conflict. After a few seconds of staring at one another, Alastor let go of your arm and cleared his throat, “Good night, Y/N. Be prepared for our deal.” You nodded, and before you could ask him what was wrong, the door was closed and locked in your face.

~~~Present Day~~~

The day you had finally come for your concert. You had spent most of the day resting and preparing for the show. It had been over a week since your last live performance. You took your time getting prepared, wanting everything to be perfect. You double-checked your hair outfit and even dabbed on an old perfume you found while shopping with Angel. Did you buy this specific sent because it was trendy in the 1920s? No, of course not. You weren't trying to impress the famed Radio Demon during your performance tonight. It finally dawned on you as you did your last touches. You either become soulless tonight or beat the Radio Demon. A shiver ran down your back; you were so caught up in falling for the man that you forgot he was ruthless and owned you now. It's not that you minded the owning part; you minded the soulless part. 

A soft knock was heard at your door, and you released a quiet “come in.” As you turned from your vanity to see who had entered, before you stood, Mimzy, you ran to your mentor and hugged her close. “You came, you came. I thought you would be too mad at me to come.” Mimzy slapped your shoulder gently before speaking. “When have I missed one of your shows since you started working for me? Plus, Alastor personally invited me and gave me a front seat. I don’t know if it's to torment me that he's going to take your soul or if mister Deer likes you.” Mimzy began nudging your side. You stifled an almost forced laugh, your cheeks growing warm. “Mimzy, you need to lay off the alcohol. That is an absurd statement. Alastor doesn’t like me.” She gave you a knowing look. “You may think he doesn’t like you, but I can tell you sure like him.” You looked away at the floor.

Mimzy gave you a few more encouraging words before returning to the drawing room. According to Mimzy, there was already a large number of people filling the place. Charlie must be going nuts trying to recruit people. With a final glance in the mirror, you began to walk to your call point. Instead of your average tan and brown ensemble, you wore an elegant blood-red dress for tonight's performance. One that just so happened to be in your closet this morning when you started to get ready. You did your hair up and let some pieces frame your face, your makeup soft and subtle, giving you a sweet, angelic look.

Charlie introduced you to the crowd; as you took center stage and waited for everyone to calm down, you began your set. You looked out to the crowd like you did all those nights ago, and sitting right in front of you were your new friends and him. He didn’t look smug or dominating this time. No, this time, he looked calm and compassionate. Even if you looked hard enough, it almost looked like he was enjoying himself. He wore a suit practically identical to your dress in color. You promoted the hotel between each song as you sang. Your first three songs went perfectly, keeping the crowd entertained to the fullest as you always did. Once your last song died down, the crowd erupted. 

A slow interlude played as you spoke softly: "I wrote this last song a long time ago when I was alive. I have only sung this song once at Mimzy Speakeasy, so if you were one of the lucky few to hear it, please feel free to sing along and enjoy it to the fullest this time.” You smiled softly before landing your eyes on Alastor. You don’t know what possessed you to sing this song, looking directly at him, but you couldn’t help it. You felt compelled, too. As the begging notes to Espresso started playing, a small group of people cheered, including Charlie. 

You began your normal choreography and sang your heart out, never taking your eyes off of Alastor for long, and from what you saw, he never took his eyes off of you for long, either. Singing your heart out as you finished the outro of the song you posed, letting the cheers and lights fade out. Charlie rushed to the stage and informed everyone about food, refreshments, and signing up to join the hotel. You, however, hid behind the curtains, blushing. Why was he looking at you so intently? Why were you suddenly so shy and concerned you sang poorly? You always had confidence in your singing.

Collecting yourself, you quickly refreshed your look in the bathroom before joining the after/recruiting party. As you were going down the hotel hall to get to the main part of the drawing room, an uneasy feeling hit you. An anxious, familiar feeling. You turn your head, and down the hall, you see a man making his way towards you. You turn around and keep walking, ignoring his shouts as you try to beeline for the entryway. You are panting at this point, memories of your death coming back to you, everything feeling too close to that moment. Just as you are about to turn the corner into the doors for the drawing room, the man reaches out for you. You brace for impact; however, nothing happens. You hear sickly screams emanating from before you as a pair of arms gently encase you in a protective embrace. As you open your eyes, you see shadows tearing the man who looked to be a part of the Vees team apart. Alastor covered your eyes before walking you back towards your room.

You didn’t even realize you had begun to cry or shake when you got to your room. The anxiety of reliving that night you died catching up to you. Alastor never let you go, even after you got to the safety of your room. Once you calmed down, Alastor went to the bathroom connected to your room. You sat there holding your face in your hands, probably looking like a mess from your actions. Alastor re-entered the room and brought you a fresh, damp towel. “To wash your face off; you probably don’t want all that on you anymore.” You nodded softly and began to wipe your face. Alastor scoffed, then took the towel from you, crouching down. Alastor gently held your face and began to clean it off. You two never broke eye contact. He was so gentle.

After your face was cleaned, Alastor took the pins out of your hair and went to find some more comfortable clothes for you. You were ushered into the bathroom and began to change when, through the door, Alastor began to speak. “Did he hurt you at all? I tried to get there as fast as I could. Before you came on, Mimzy was telling me about the night you died. I assume the Vees and their minions must have overheard and, in an attempt to weaken your resolve, make you remember that night.” You sniffled lightly, slowly opening the door, and you looked up at Alastor. Where was a man like him when you died? No, where was he when you passed that night? A choked sob left your lips as you hugged him close to you, crying into his shoulder. Alastor was amiss on what to do, but slowly, as you cried, wrapped his arms around you as well. 

As the tears faded, a green glow surrounded you and Alastor again, like when you first made the deal. No one signed up for Charlie's hotel, whether because the demon was mutilated one door over or because you didn’t come to socialize with the guests. It didn’t matter; Alastor had your soul now. Oddly enough, you weren’t as upset by this as you anticipated; you were happy about this. You felt safe, protected even. 

Alastor bid his farewell to you after you had finally calmed down. Neither one of you speaking about the contract or lost deal. You lay in bed, exhausted from all the crying and anxiety. As you drifted off to sleep, you saw your assailant again. This wasn’t an uncommon dream for you, but this time, it hurt worse due to the raw emotions. However, just as you were about to die again for the millionth time in this dream, a man dressed in red with brown hair and a soft smile protected you and saved you. 

You had been asleep for a little less than 24 hours when you woke next. Your body needed a recharge. You made your way to the kitchen to make some coffee; if you were staying at the hotel to sing, you could start putting together new songs and programs. You made your drink, noticing that Alastor's cup was missing from the cabinet. Taking your hot coffee back upstairs, you passed the hall to your room when you heard a piano playing your song Espresso. 

You made your way to the door and entered quietly to find Alastor playing your song, humming quietly in tune. You knocked gently and said, " Al, if you wanted a concert yourself, I would have given you one.” You smile softly. Alastor, unfazed by your appearance, probably already knowing you were there, hummed in amusement before speaking. “As a thank you, why don’t we perform a duet for me saving you?”  You made your way over to the piano, sitting down next to him and setting your coffee cup next to his on the piano. 

He began to play the start of the song, and you two began to sing together. Softly, you rest your head on his shoulder, allowing yourself to be vulnerable with your feelings for the man next to you. You had never sung this song like this before, and it felt special between you two. Some of you began to believe that this song was made for you and Alastor. Before you died, you knew you would meet your match—someone who met you as an equal yet also an opposite. Alastor finished the last few notes of the song. Comfortable silence surrounds you. 

Alastor smiled more naturally, “You know, Y/N, I do like your music. It did catch me off guard the first time I heard it, but your music has a lot of truths in it.” You look up at him from his shoulder, listening to his words. “From the moment I looked at you, I couldn’t get enough of you; when I met you, and you challenged me almost instantly, I knew I had to have you. You keep me awake at night thinking about everything that has happened between us in the last few weeks.” You smile softly, thinking back to the lyrics of your song. You lean up gently and place a kiss on Alastors cheek. He laughs softly when he turns to look at you thoroughly. “I’m sorry, doll, but you may have misunderstood me. I like you a lot; I feel that deserves more than a mere peck on the cheek.” You laugh wholeheartedly, this time without covering it up, before placing a soft, chaste kiss on Alastors lips. You pulled back, both of you smiling. “Now that’s an espresso I would happily take any time.” You laugh at his antics before placing your hands on the piano, now playing an old song you remembered from when you were a kid. 

All was well. Who would challenge the infamous Radio Demon, especially now that he had the notorious addictive ‘Espresso’ singer as his girlfriend? With your powers combined, he could overcome the deal he made, but that is a story for another time.