#g/t worship

[dxxthnotes]

Death Note: Mikalight G/T Draft

hello chat here is a draft i made in an attempt at death note g/t. i prob will finish this, but i wanted to get something out there! I hope you enjoy! :)

Summary:

A human by the name of Teru Mikami is infatuated with giants, and believes them to be god-like beings. So when he finds out his beloved Kira is a giant, he is beyond ecstatic. A giant so powerful and godly chose a human to bestow the Death Note? How lucky can he be!?

All the black-haired man felt were two massive fingers pinning him down against the giant wooden table below.

The young prosecutor struggled with turning his head from left-to-right, given his current position. He attempted to roll his head with all the strength he had, and slowly cranked his neck to take a look at each finger on the opposite side of himself.

“Ngh…” Mikami groaned. He really was effortlessly pinned down like this, huh? In almost any situation similar, the smallers are always terrified for their lives, but for some odd and twisted reason, the young man can only feel thrill…

Suddenly, Mikami took his attention away from his thoughts, and more importantly, the two giant digits on either side of himself to notice the looming reddish-brown eyes staring right down at him.

Mikami and the giant exchange looks.

“God…” is all Mikami can whisper under his breath. If it weren’t for the quietness in the room the taller would have missed it.

Without saying a word, Light smirked devilishly.

To think Teru Mikami would be in such a position, huh? Arms pinned down, and legs stretched out at the hands of somebody so amused. It would be humiliating for any other human to be at the hands of such power, but the prosecutor felt the opposite. He had felt such eggarness and obedience when it came to this, anticipating what was going to happen next.

“Teru Mikami,” Light suddenly chuckled, catching the attention of the smaller man. The giant noticed this, and shifted his free hand to support his chin while placing his elbow on the desk next to the tiny frame, still smirking in the process. A sudden movement for the giant seemed like a miniature earthquake to the human. “What a lucky man you are,” Light continued, "You appear to be enjoying this as much as I am.”

Mikami can’t help but not deny being pinned down like this is thrilling to somebody such as himself. Giants have so much power and are normally feared throughout society; for him to be blessed by the hands of such mercy, no, Kira’s mercy, brings the prosecutor so much joy.

“Yes God,” Teru said meekly. “I can’t help but worship you as you are so strong and intelligent. I am beyond lucky to be blessed with such power you granted me.”

“Hmm…” Light hums. “You’re a good man, Mikami.” Without a second thought, Light further pined the tiny into the desk, earning a gasp from him.

[so-very-small]

currently imagining a religious society living in a church, that worships a deity. and then one day the deity shows up, towering over the mountains that hold the church. everyone is a mix of terrified and overjoyed that their deity is real and present, except for one priestess. immediately upon seeing the deity, they take their religious coverings off and wipe off their face-paint, cause concepts of godhood and religion and priesthood be damned, the god is TALL and the priestess is about to ROMANCE that son of a bitch

[sugarbudgoddess]

Fat ass. Fat pussy.

[jeongin-lvr]

🎼 ─┈┈ hubby heeseung ̩̩͙˚ ᩙ ⠀

husband! heeseung with the fattest crush on you literally ever. he worships the ground you walk on; he practically kneels before you, awaiting every need and command you bring to him. he’s so serious when he says he’d take every star out of the sky and give it to you as a gift if you asked. which also includes in bed when he has your face buried into the messed up, unkept bedsheets, whispering i love you’s as he kisses your g-spot with his fat cock. or when he has you in the shower, bent between your legs on his knees as water rushes down his back because you looked too pretty with soapy hair and skin. he mumbles against your clit as he does so, gurled by water but his point still comes across, “the prettiest girl... and you’re all mine, thank you...“

husband! heeseung who recites his vows as he fucks you in a mating press. its crazy but he does it every single time he has you all curled up, knees beside your head, too fucked out as buckets of his cum leaks out of you and stains the sheets. he’s telling you every promise he made on your wedding day and more. he’s reminding you it really is till death do you part. he doesn’t realize he’s doing it; it’s probably just because he gets so worked up, so full of love. every thrust into your flutterung hole is heaven, and all he can think about is how badly he loves you and how badly he wants to get you pregnant.

husband! heeseung who finds you the absolute sexiest when you’re wearing your glasses and his big t-shirt, bare legs, messy hair, rosy cheeks. it’s perfection, he can’t get enough. if he sees you like that fully expect to be completely ruined within the next hour. he fucks you with the glasses on, an dyou’re confused because he doesn’t get crazy like this when you actually dress up or put effort into your appearence, and all he has to say is, “this is the you that turns me on.“ he’ll pin your hands above your head and press your knees into your chest as he stuffs himself inside of you, loving the way the fabric of his shirt bunches at your hips. you weren’t even wearing any panties anyway, what did you expect <3

husband! heeseung who kisses your wedding bands whenever you two are having intimate, lazy sex. lifting your wrist and hand to his lips and pecking your knuckles, kissing on your shaky hands until his lips trace the cold metal, humming with a smile at the way your gaze flickers to his. its the cutest thing, immediately making you smile when you see the sparkles filling his gaze. its so obvious he loves you so much. he even promises to buy you more rings because, “you deserve it,“ and he never fails to fulfill his promise. the next day he somehow comes home from work with a new band, something new for your growing collection.

husband! heeseung who is the first to bring up kids and is very serious about wanting at least two. he’ll casually bring it up into conversations and its adorable... until he’s lifting you onto the counter and lifting your skirt because you’re ovulating and it’s, word for word, “the perfect time to get you pregnant.“ he says it sneakily, with a wink and a cunning grin. you can’t say no, especially since the idea of him being the father of your children was almost perfect. you’re both young but it doesn’t hurt to try does it? so he’s waking you up to his cock filling you up in the morning, or when you’re just watching a movie he ends up sitting you on his dick and filling you up. you have no complaints. just shaky legs and a nice, warm creampie.

husband! heeseung who finally gets you pregnant and is somehow even more obsessed with you. he’s doting on you hand and foot. every craving you get he’s finding every ingredient. every symptom you experience he’s researching diligently, telling you cures or remedies, scheduling doctors apointments to get an experts opinion. and on days when all you wanna do is be near him, feel him, feel sexy with him, he’s so perfect at being exactly what you need. he worships your body; praising you on how pretty you look full of his baby, how you’re glowing, kissing your ankles or your tits or anywhere you might feel a little unsure of.

[amourcheol]

the lords who loved me (series masterlist)

g e n r e : smut, fluff, angst, bridgerton! au, regency au! for certain fics -> friends with benefits! au, opposites attract! au, sunshine x grumpy! au, slow burn! au, forbidden love! au, enemies to lovers! au

s u m m a r y : the diamond club of mayfair is the most notorious, sought-after gentlemen's club in london. every member is a figure of great wealth, class or power, but none have such fame as five dear friends, the eligible lords of the ton. each acclaimed lord has their dreams and desires, concerns and anxieties, but all of them have one aspect in common.

every single one of these gentlemen will find their love match—whether they want to or not.

a u t h o r ' s n o t e : this is my first ever series and i’m so so excited to write about bridgerton!! this is something i've been wanting to write since late 2021 :') the storylines are all loosely connected (some more than others) but can still be read separately!! do send an ask/comment if you want to be added to the taglist, and enjoy the journey that's about to come <3

back to masterlist

❝Why learn the complexities of desire all by yourself, when your dearest friend can merely teach you?❞

g e n r e : friends with benefits! au, friends to lovers! au, smut, angst, fluff

s u m m a r y : you think you know everything about your best friend, dashing bachelor lord joshua hong. when you stumble upon his suggestive literature from his recent travels, however, reading even an extract is enough to make you question everything. unsure of your newfound feelings, you turn to your confidante, unaware of just how much knowledge—and experience—he has to offer.

c o n t e n t : best friend! joshua, best friend! soonyoung who is the real mvp, references of real erotic literature from the 1700s because this is not an amourcheol fic without historical accuracy mature warnings -> tons of sexual tension, kissing, making out, fingering, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, mc experiences crazy overstimulation, corruption kink (!!!), more tba !!

s t a t u s : eligible.

❝Because Wonwoo was a wandering soul, and you were the anchor to his lost creativity.❞

g e n r e : writer! au, strangers to lovers! au, opposites attract! au, fluff, angst, smut

s u m m a r y : since his last successful play years ago, lord jeon wonwoo has lost all motivation to write his next masterpiece. hiding himself away in his countryside manor, he expects inspiration to strike. what he does not expect is you, his new spinster neighbour, to storm through his halls, and into his cold, aching heart.

c o n t e n t : writer! wonwoo, landowner! reader, mc is inspired by bathseba everdene from far from the madding crowd, wonwoo has writers block on stereoids, wonwoo is also a class-a loser but it’s okay cause he’s hot, lowkey love triangle with tbz eric, descriptions of real places in england cause historical accuracy once again, this will be Long because i am an advocate of slow burn, there will be angst, mature warnings -> sexual tension, making out, fingering, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, body worship, more tba !!

s t a t u s : eligible.

❝How can one be professional with a partner as scandalous as Lord Kwon Soonyoung?❞

g e n r e : sunshine x grumpy! au, theatre! au, fluff, smut

s u m m a r y : you never believed yourself to be a particularly brilliant actress—that is, until lord kwon soonyoung scouts you for his next theatre production. amongst lessons and overwhelming emotions, you find that acting can be particularly difficult with a carefree scoundrel—especially if you are his next target.

c o n t e n t : theatre actress! reader, entertainer! soonyoung, inspired by the movie the libertine, soonyoung is a certified rake, mc hates (and is horrendously attracted by) it, references to shakespeare and restoration plays, wonwoo being silly, mature warnings -> Sexual Tension, so much Tension, making out, fingering, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, edging, soonyoung is such a tease it's crazy, more tba !!

s t a t u s : eligible.

❝What could go wrong for an unattainable lady to fool around with an untouchable gentleman?❞

g e n r e : forbidden love! au, rich x (kinda) poor! au, smut, fluff, angst

s u m m a r y : you were the diamond of this season. beautiful, accomplished, and of noble birth, your future was tied to the man who would be successful enough to attain you. when your eyes catch the newly labelled lord chan at your debutante ball, you decide to let curiosity take the lead—and enjoy the consequences that ensue.

c o n t e n t : new money! chan, old money! reader, reader is kinda arrogant(?), chan will fix her though, cheol will be very annoying this fic, sneaking around, mature warnings -> making out, fingering, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes through a bridgerton-esque montage, chan is crazy cocky but is also a loser because i believe in chan range, more tba !!

s t a t u s : eligible.

❝Keep your lovers close, and your enemies closer. Keep Choi Seungcheol, however, the closest.❞

g e n r e : enemies to lovers! au, exes to lovers! au, angst, smut

s u m m a r y : everyone in the ton was aware of your hatred towards choi seungcheol. when the powerful lord discovers a deep secret, however, he vows to humiliate you for his own pleasure. you decide to indulge him—if only to save yourself. what you failed to consider was that dancing with the devil can only end in ruination.

c o n t e n t : rake! seungcheol, lady! reader, these two hate each other cause too many people are pussies when it comes to e2l, seungcheol is insufferable, so is the mc, slowburn which will want to tear your hair out, painstaking angst which will be rewarded, mature warnings -> making out fuelled by intense hatred, fingering, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, edging, overstimulation, dirty talk galore, reader is a brat, more tba !!

s t a t u s : eligible.

[velvetsainz]

summary: [ cs55, cl16, mv1, lh44, fa14, sv5, dr3, mwebber, jb22 x fem!reader ] three major kinks + a couple minor kinks for each driver

word count: 1.8k

content warnings: smut under the cut (minors dni pls!), pwp; i'm not going to tag all of these bc that would take 5ever BUT 1) everything is consensual & in the setting of a happy, healthy relationship & 2) dm me if you are needing any specific tw's/cw's & i'll be happy to share those!

a/n: it's been a hot, hot minute since i've had the energy to write (i was busy surviving my surgery core rotation at a level 1 trauma center & pediatrics at a major children's hospital), but i've been brewing up a lil something for awhile now! i was stalling out on writing the last part of corsica, so i figured i'd at least give you this to get the juices flowing again! i started this blog about six months ago, & i'm nearly at 500 followers & i wanted to take a moment to thank you all! i love you so much and i hope you enjoy this! these are the kinks i think each of these drivers has! what proof do i have, you ask? absolute fuck-all! enjoy, loves! xx

creampie + breeding kink — he’s a family man & lord knows how badly he wants his own. he’s possessive, too, & this sates both of those desires well for him.  he’s always whispering something in your ear, hand low on your belly about how good you’d look carrying his babies. and once you’re actually pregnant? sweet jesus, he’s never taking his hands off of you.

shower sex — he’s talked a number of times about how he’ll shower multiple times a day, and something tells me he’d never object to a partner. more than once he’s had you against the tiled walls until the water ran cold and your teeth were chattering.  he’d then proceed to take it upon himself to warm you up again, ever the gentleman.

post-workout sex — there’s something about the way you look, out of breath & drenched in sweat that sends all the blood in his body rushing to his cock. you’re trying to push him away, afraid that you’re just too gross, but this man does not give a single fuck.  he adores you in all your sweaty, sticky glory & is on you the second you make it back from your class, peeling you out of your leggings and wrangling your too-tight sports bra over your head.  and it goes the other way as well: his favorite workout cooldown is fucking you senseless; there’s something deeply primal about the exertion of a workout that clouds his head with only thoughts of you, out of breath & on the brink of orgasm.

minor kinks | hair pulling — rough sex — cockwarming — pussy worship — possessiveness — soft dom — teasing — dirty talk

praise kink — he’s a talker in bed, and that means that he’s telling you just how delicious the tight clutch of your velvet walls feels around his cock. one language is not enough to tell you all the ways you make him feel, how good you are, how badly he’s wanted you. it certainly doesn’t hurt when you reciprocate, but the sounds he’s able to work out of you are often enough for him.

vanilla sex — listen: it’s no secret that this man is a romantic, and there are few things as romantic as good ole vanilla sex. sure, some spice is nice every once in a while, but he doesn’t need it to get his rocks off. he’s too caught up in the romance of it all—the tangle of limbs, skin pressed against skin, stuttering breaths, and stammering hearts—to want anything else.  all he needs is you.

kissing — similar as above, charles is a sucker for romance, and a good makeout sess is just the right thing to get him hot and bothered.  he’s very talented with languages, and his mastery of his tongue doesn’t end with words. *wink wink*

minor kinks | oral sex (giving + receiving) — creampie — cowgirl — bathtub sex — breathplay

mutually drunk sex — no matter how much he loves a club scene, he’d always find himself back in your arms.  happy, sloppy, messy sex. as much as he loves a g&t, he loves the taste of you more.

wax play — we’ve seen the clips. he likes dripping the wax just as much as he likes being dripped on, and every time you go to light a candle his eyes get that hungry look like he could devour you whole; you’ve learned how to use this to your advantage.

dirty talk + praise kink — as we all know, this man is a certified YAPPER. and, unsurprisingly, that extends to the bedroom, too.  always groaning, grunting, whispering sweet nothings in your ears, there’s very little that leaves him truly speechless; you’ll always know exactly how he feels when you're riding his cock or taking him deep in your throat, whether that’s in dutch, english, or the french he’s been trying to practice. and, given his upbringing, he lives for the praises that fall past your lips; he aims to please, and your sweet words are all the motivation he needs.

minor kinks | restraints (giving + receiving) — spanking — threesomes — nipple play — sensory play

massage — he takes great pride in his physique, and he thinks every inch of you is perfect.  he loves watching all the tension leave your body. with such limited time in his busy, busy life, he thrives on the time he gets to spend with you; few things can compete with the peace, intimacy, and pleasure that comes from the feeling of your hands working over the tight muscles of his back and legs. and if they happen to wander somewhere else? well, what a happy accident that would be!

fingering — if there’s one thing lewis knows, it’s that a man’s most important tool isn’t the one between his legs.  he loves all the ways in which you unravel for him, your back pressed against his chest with your legs draped over his own to keep them open.  he’ll play with you like that for hours if he could, unlacing your composure until you're boneless and melting into him with every touch. (also, dear god, have you seen his hands? female gaze bait of the highest form.)

the lingerie stays on — there’s a litany of pick-up lines about clothes, etc. looking good on you but better on their floor, and a one mr. hamilton disagrees with that sentiment; we know well how he appreciates fine garments, and he loves them even more when you’re wearing them.  he’s most certainly one to spoil his partner, and if he’s going to buy you that agent provocateur set, you can bet he wants to see you in it.

minor kinks | soft dom — cowgirl — voyeurism — intimacy — dirty talk — shower sex — pillowtalk

face riding — why do you think he takes so much pride in his neck strength? and even when you’re squirming away from overstimulation, he’s more than able to hold you in place by hooking his toned biceps over your shaking thighs. he’s a menace, but he never leaves a partner wanting for more.

wearing his clothes — okay, this one isn’t original in the slightest because i simply cannot get this blurb by @folkloresthings out of my head.  nando would keel over at the sight of you in his clothes, especially if there was a particular lack of certain undergarments. he’d pull you in by the excess material and have you right there if feasible.

anal sex — all the nando fuckers know that he’s a little freaky—can i get an amen? that being said, his experience goes a long way in helping his partner get the most out of it and making it a pleasurable experience for all parties. he’d take his time working you open, pairing it with leg-shaking orgasms to wash away any doubts in your mind. it’s a new sensation, but a welcome one at that.

minor kinks | swallowing / facials — teasing — spanking — rough sex — sloppy sex — aftercare

teasing — a tyrant on the track and one in the bedroom as well. or in the car. or at a dinner with a few too many pairs of eyes. regardless, being a tease is his favorite above all else despite his own inability to handle a healthy dose of his own medicine. 

overstimulation — this more or less goes hand-in-hand with his teasing, but he loves the way you beg when you’re coming down from one high and coasting right into another. “just one more, liebling” or “you’ve got another one, don’t you, schatz?” or “i know you can take it, kleiner hase” before making your vision go white as he wrings another orgasm from you.

morning sex — but, above all else, sebastian is a lover, and few things are quite as intimate as slow, fumbling, half-awake morning sex where you’re mumbling praises and communicating in soft, hushed sounds of pleasure. chasing sensations and desires before your mind is even fully awake takes a strong, trusting bond, and he prides himself on this with his partner.

minor kinks | cockwarming — spanking — mutual masturbation — toys — soft restraints (giving + receiving) — creampie / breeding — praise kink — dirty talk

cowgirl — this man & his obsession w/ texas—need i say more? how does that saying go, again? “save a horse…”

photos/sextape — daniel3.jpg would like a word.  he’s obsessed with this new medium, and what’s a better way to remember a spicy moment than on film? plus, when you’re traveling 200-plus days a year, you need a way to bring a piece of home with you however you can, whether that’s watching you fall apart while arching your back as he grips your shoulder tight or taking him into the back of your throat as you look up at him through damp lashes or riding his cock or or arching your back as he grips your shoulder tight…you get the picture.

threesomes — considering the way that everyone fawns over him on the grid, this man could so easily work himself into some surprising pairings. his love language is physical touch and he’s not afraid to share it. that, combined with his competitiveness and desire to please, turns into a dangerous desire for him to see you fucked out and overwhelmed by your own need for more.

minor kinks | mirror sex — dirty talk — thigh riding — facefucking — rough sex — hair pulling

rough sex — aussie grit. there’s nothing else i need to say other than he’s a wild ride.

aftercare — any rough lover worth their prowess, though, knows the importance of aftercare, and mark is no different in that regard.  he takes it very seriously and is always checking in afterward to make sure you enjoyed yourself as much as he did, peppering you in sweet kisses and warm embraces.

pussy worship — we’ve all seen the clip, right? this man knows how to eat pussy and he’s damn good at it. better yet—he loves doing it. you’d practically have to pry him off you from the overstimulation, his tongue, lips, and teeth finding alllll the right ways to make you fall apart.

minor kinks | cockwarming — spanking — possessiveness — massage — swallowing / facials

exhibitionism + voyeurism — the grid slag. he’s confident about his body and his abilities, and he’s not afraid to share. he’s not overly possessive and an unabashed hedonist to boot, so this pairing works perfectly to get his rocks off (and hopefully yours, too). he’s a little freak, and he’s not afraid to let it show!

spanking — when you’re especially mouthy (frequently to get these exact reactions) and he’s a little bold, jenson is partial to taking you over his knee and seeing how long you can keep up the act before you’re a whimpering mess. frequently this ends with him literally kissing your ass, two fingers buried knuckle deep in your dripping cunt while another toys with your too-sensitive clit.

brattiness — again, like above, he loves when you backtalk or drag your heels on him, making him work for your pleasure and, on some nights, your submission. (though, he’s not afraid to admit how fucking hot he finds it when you take control, using him for your pleasure and taking what you need. all that matters to him is raw, messy, dirty fun.)

minor kinks | threesomes — begging — degradation kink (giving + receiving) — nipple play — oral sex (giving + receiving) — toys

final note: that's all, folks! now what do you think? let me know! 🤍 as always, you can follow my writing sideblog @velvetsainz-writes​ where i reblog inspo & recs!

[gyuwoncheol]

Room Service

↳ A part 2 to 15 Minutes

Pair: Scoups x f!reader

Genre: Smut, Concert!Cheol, husband!Cheol, dom!Cheol, 18+ only (MDNI).

Summary: The only thing hornier than pre-concert Cheol is post-concert Cheol. Lucky for you, you’re the only one in the world with an all-access VIP ticket to this immersive experience.

Warnings: Porn with plot, Concert!Cheol, dom!Cheol, daddy kink, breeding kink, big dick!Cheol, pussy drunk!Cheol, cock hungry!reader, so. many. orgasms., quickie sex, unprotected sex (stay safe, children), oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), lots of making out, creampieS, slightly public sex, dick riding, manhandling, pussy slapping (like once), use of color system, overstimulation, body worship, breast/nipple play, hair pulling, spitting, crying during and after sex (but it’s not a kink), dirty talk, use of pet names (my love, baby, princess, baby girl, angel), fluff at the end. Please let me know if i missed something, i can’t remember all the filth. Not thoroughly proofread.

WC: 4.1k

Author's Note: Did I get carried away? Hell yes. is this the filthiest thing I’ve ever written? Could be. Except the other wip I have also for Seungcheol might just beat it. Thank you so much again for the love on 15 Minutes. I hope this 2nd part lives up to it.

Author's 2nd Note: For new readers, you don’t have to read 15 Minutes as this can stand on its own, but it would make more sense if you did read it.

“My good girl.” 

Seungcheol chuckled as he plunged deep into your cunt, his cock pushing through your mixed cum that you so diligently kept in as instructed, “so good at following instructions huh?” 

“Fuck baby, you’re so messy” Cheol cursed, mouth watering at the sight of your stored cum slowly dripping out of your hole as he dragged out his entire length until only the tip was in. You groaned when you felt globs of it trickle down your thigh, your husband’s large hand slowly pushing you down against the back of the couch. You felt him engulf you, his chest against your back, hot breath on your ears, “cat got your tongue, babe?” The man teased just as he thrusted his length back into you, causing more cum to overflow from your hole.

It had only been roughly 30 minutes since the concert finally ended, the boys doing all the post show rituals from changing clothes to shooting backstage content, and as soon as that was over, Seungcheol had all but dragged you to another dressing room, not even saying anything as he unzipped your jeans and dragged your very soiled panties down. Not that you were surprised though, post-concert was always when Cheol was the horniest, with all that adrenaline still pumping through his veins.

You could feel the prominent vein on his cock drag through your walls deliciously as he alternated between slow and fast thrusts, an arm snaked around your torso while hot phrases flew from his mouth.

“Fuck, pussy so tight.” 

“All mine.” 

“I’ll give you all my babies.” 

“Gon’ pump you full.” 

“My good girl so desperate for cum.” 

“Cheol!” You screeched in between moans when you felt him hit that sensitive spot particularly rough.

“Did you watch me tonight, baby? Why weren’t you in the stands?” He asked suddenly, as if he wasn’t still railing you from behind.

“C-couldn’t g-go” you squeaked, willing yourself to form words when all you really wanted to do was whimper in pleasure, “had to… be— behave… fuck!” 

“Behave?” Cheol clarified even though he sensed where this was going. In all the times they rushed backstage in between sets, not once had you moved from your spot, sitting cross legged on top of the large black trunk cases situated right in front of the screen which broadcasted the events on stage.  “Words, baby” he said sweetly yet firmly when he saw you nod eagerly.

“Yes! Behave. Had t-to… k-keep.. shiiiiit,” you groaned, your elbows harshly rubbing on the leather material of the couch after another rough entry of Cheol’s cock, “keep da-daddy’s… cum… in me.” You finished off your defense and you could already see your husband’s smirk without even really looking at him.

“Aren’t. You. Such. An. Angel.” Seungcheol punctuated each word with a deep harsh thrust.

“And all yours.” You punctuated as you looked back at him, both your eyes glazing in lust. The loud sound of skin slapping skin and your pussy squelching at every thrust was unmistakable, the room smelled of sex. The group’s leader was sweating even more than he did when he got off stage, his warmth radiating onto your body as he kept you impossibly close to him, jackhammering his cock in your cunt. 

“Shit shit shit shit..” you cried out loud when his other hand suddenly rubbed fast circles on your clit.

“FUCK!” Seungcheol growled at your release, your pussy clamping down on him so tightly that it triggered his own. He stilled within you in an instant, bodies folded in half against the leather couch, your husband continuously muttering incoherent words as the feeling of your fluttering walls drove him to another level of cloud 9. 

“Yah! You two better eat already if you’re really planning to go all night” Seungkwan scolded in his best mom voice when the both of you entered the buffet area hand in hand.

You hid your face on Cheol’s shoulders, suddenly very aware of all 12 boys looking your way. They were very much aware of what you two had been doing and why you were doing it. In spite of the never ending teasing and playful disgusted looks they give their leader, the members had all told you they were excited for Cheol to become a dad mostly because it meant he’d get off their asses. 

“We’re actually going ahead. We’ll take a different car.” Your husband announced, a gentle squeeze to your hand when some of the boys howled at the implication of both of you going back to the hotel first.

“Really not wasting any time huh?” Soonyoung smirked despite having his mouth full of noodles 

“What? She’s leaving soon!” Seungcheol whined.

“Y/n still has a week left!!” Mingyu corrected with a roll of his eyes.

“Yeah yeah, still not enough!” Cheol replied. He gave a curt nod to Jeonghan, calling his name firmly as if to say ‘i leave the kids with you.’

“Hyung, seriously, you both have to eat.” DK was next to remind you both as he knows you’re both still running on empty stomachs.

“We’ll get room service,” your husband called out, inching closer towards the exit doors that would lead you to the vans.

“We hope it's the food kind! And maybe let y/n get some real sleep after!” Joshua’s reminder had you giggling, glad enough to know the boys still cared for you even though all you’ve done was hog all of Seungcheol’s free time.

Surprisingly, you had both managed to stay well behaved in the car ride home. If anything, you two were very sweet, your head resting on Cheol’s shoulders as he held your hand through the ride and absentmindedly played with your fingers. 

Even when you had both showered together in the hotel room, your husband did not try to make any advances, he simply cleaned you both up, even giving you a nice massage on your scalp when you lathered your favorite shampoo. 

Contrary to what his members may think, Seungcheol wasn’t too adamant about fucking you all night. He could see how tired you actually are and Mingyu was right, you did still have a week left with him. He just wants to make sure you are cared for like his queen this whole trip, whether that meant blowing your back or giving you 8 hours of sleep, he didn’t mind. 

“Tired, baby?” He asked as he secured the knot on your fluffy hotel robe.

You lazily smiled at him as you settled in bed, pulling him towards you for good measure. “I’m ok.”

“Hungry? Wanna get some food now?” 

“Want you to kiss me.” 

Seungcheol was taken aback by the boldness of your request, not because it was the first time you asked, but because you both have definitely done more than just kissing these past 72 hours. He smiled sheepishly as he climbed over you, settling on your side as his chapped lips kissed your soft ones. You clutched onto his hand on your neck, sighing happily when you felt him deepen the kiss. 

“Someone’s happy,” a low chuckle from your husband.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, “i love your kisses.” Despite the raunchy sex, there was always just something so nice and intimate about kissing your husband. His lips were always so plump against yours and the way he’d hold you securely always made you feel like you meant the world to him. 

“You’re so beautiful, i love you so much,” Seungcheol admired your bare face before sucking on your lower lip.

You moaned out an i love you too but it only got swallowed by the man who couldn’t get enough of you. You climbed on his lap, trapping him in between your legs, taking control of this little makeout session you were having. Inevitably, the more you kissed him, the more your hips moved on its own accord, grinding on Cheol’s robe-covered bottom half. 

You were moving erratically, wanting to chase a high you knew you needed if you were to fit Cheol’s dick again tonight. 

“Daddy, please...” you cried, annoyed that you just couldn’t get to where you wanted to be 

“Please what, baby girl?”

You whined desperately at the dangerously low tone in your ear, “please make me cum.” 

Record time is what you’d call it, the way Seungcheol went from flipping you over to casting your robe open to having his mouth suck on your clit harshly. You couldn’t even process it, all you knew was your throat was straining from how you were screaming his name with how he lapped at your cunt. His tongue licked bold stripes from your hole to your clit before he'd suck the sensitive bud. If there's anything Cheol has perfected, it's his hand-mouth coordination, the way he perfectly syncs his plush lips to suck at your clit while two fingers sink in you and curl to graze that spongy spot inside your walls. It should really have you embarrassed at how quick it could unravel the coil in your stomach. Your orgasm exploding in colorful bursts behind your eyes whilst soaking your husband's face in a mess. 

"I forgot how sweet you fucking taste," he groaned, slurping the juices leaking from your hole. He peeked up at you from where he was, your mouth agape and chest rising and falling while your fingers still gripped on his hair. You were hissing from oversensitivity but you should've known that post-concert Cheol was a starved man. When he deemed he had swallowed all of you, three fingers prodded at your entrance that had you arching your back from the bed only to be pushed down with your husband's free arm. "Stay still, baby. Daddy's not done yet." 

"Fuuuuuuck, " you panted, going delirious from the overstimulation your pussy was feeling. You writhed in vain as Cheol smothered your cunt like a full course meal. When you tried to squirm away, he delivered a slap to your pussy that sent shocks all over your body. "I'm cu- fuck! I'm cumming," you shuddered, thighs closing in on your husband's head. 

Seungcheol chuckled at your state, a proud grin across his face when he finally settled beside you. After pulling back to back orgasms from you in less than 10 minutes, he knew you were oversensitive and just needed to not be touched. "You okay, my love?" 

"Just.." you panted, "Just a minute." 

You rolled over on your stomach when you regained enough strength, and slowly but surely got on your wobbly knees to climb on your husband's thick thighs. Seungcheol wanted to squeeze your bare breasts but seeing as you were still slightly swaying, he decided to hold you securely by the waist. "what're you doing?" He mused while watching you fumble with the knot of his robe. 

His dick twitched at the sight of your lust blown, hooded eyes. "Daddy..." You smiled, god, you were so far gone, "Wanna ride you." 

Seungcheol moaned, hurriedly helping you untie his robe and throwing it to the floor. You salivated at the sight of his hard cock slapping against his stomach, red tip leaking with precum. Anchoring your palms on his chest, you kept your eyes trained on him as you sucked on your tongue before letting some of your saliva drool onto his length, your hand immediately gripping and spreading the fluid along his shaft, thumb grazing at the slit.

“Holy shit,” he cursed, hips bucking into your hand on instinct. A wicked smile crossed your face, delighted with the effect your actions had on him.

Cheol's eyes rolled to the back of his head when you finally let your pussy glide against his cock, coating it even more in your wetness.

"Fuck baby, what's gotten into you?" He hissed as you picked up your pace, grinding his cock against your wet folds, always making sure to let the tip kiss your clit when you move down. "So fucking needy for daddy's cock huh?" 

You moaned when one of his large hand squeezed your right breast and his dick leaked more precum onto his stomach. The sight of you, head falling back and mouth parted, was immaculate. He wished he remembered where his phone was right now, it would've been the perfect photo to take for him to get off on in the future. He committed it to memory as best he could, but even that thought immediately flew away when he finally felt you sink into his dick. 

"Oh my god,” you moaned in unison.

Seungcheol wasn't so sure if he was wincing from your nails digging into his chest or from the vice grip of your cunt on his cock, but either way, both felt like heaven to him. "Baby girl, you just came twice and you're still so fucking tight.”

"C-can take you, daddy. Please... p-promise!" You begged, lowering yourself to take in a few more inches of him. The stretch was familiar yet it still had you squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lower lip. 
Afraid he wouldn't be able to stay still any longer, Cheol took the matter in his own hands, sitting up to bring your chest flush against his, connecting your lips in a heated kiss to distract you from the pain. He still tasted of you and a slight hint of your minty toothpaste. When he felt you relax, his strong hold sank you onto him until he was fully sheathed. You broke from the kiss, head falling back once again at the overwhelming feeling of being so full. 

"Cmon, baby, thought you wanted to ride me?" He sucked on the column of your throat, causing you to swivel your hips. "There you go. You can do it." God, his voice was so sinful it made your insides churn. Another strangled moan left your mouth when his wet tongue made contact with your right nipple, licking and sucking before he kissed between the valley of your breasts, only to nip at your left bud.

"Oh my god, Cheol!" You pulled at his hair, wanting him to leave your sensitive breasts alone. 

He laughed dryly at your attempt but still allowed you that space. He let go of your waist to lean back with his palms against the mattress to have a full view of you. "Cmon baby," He spurred on, "show daddy what you got." 

Choi Seungcheol was simply left with no regrets at his challenge. His eyes almost turned completely black when you decided to fully bounce on him. When you found a good pace, you alternated between bouncing and grinding, one hand squeezing your breast as the other held onto his knee for support. "Fuck, daddyyy," you cried at the stretch, and he could just feel your pussy clenching on his cock even more.

"So fucking needy," he spat, "Can't get enough of my cock." 

You shook your head at his words, mewling when your clit rubbed deliciously at his pelvis and his engorged head kissed your cervix. "D-daddy.." 

"That's it, baby girl," Seungcheol cooed, bucking his hips up to meet yours, "get off on me, ride me 'til you shake. Need you to cum, princess." 

Encouraged by your husband's words, you lifted ‘til just the tip was in before sitting down on him harshly. He continued to praise you and how delicious your warm pussy felt, a string of very lewd words produced with every swivel of your hips. Your face contorted in pleasure and he knew you were close, "touch yourself," came his instructions.

"shit!" You cursed, cumming on the spot when two of your fingers rubbed against your clit.

Seungcheol beamed at how well he knew you, your tells and your triggers when you're about to cum. But what he didn't see coming was just how fast the sight of you getting off on top of him would quickly bring him to the edge too. If he didn’t catch it at the last second, he might have just spilled in you.

In one swift motion, not even pulling out of you, he flipped you on your back and trapped you under his weight. You yelped when he pumped into you, catching you off guard as you were still trying to ride out your own orgasm. 

"Ba-aby, fuck. You're d-driving me insane," he growled, "don't you dare fucking close your eyes. Keep 'em on me." 

Your fingers weaved through his hair, as you desperately tried to follow his instructions. If only he wasn't hell bent on reaching his high, Seungcheol would've laughed at how often you'd train your eyes to look at him every time they kept trying to roll to the back of your head. "Daddy's gonna fuck a baby in you, you want that, princess?" 

"Y-yes daddy! yes!" You mewled, both your legs being lifted up, calves resting on Seungcheol’s meaty shoulders, while he inserted a pillow below your ass. "Fuck me full, daddy, please,” a breathless request.

He folded you in half, planting his knees on the mattress and bracing himself on your sides. Seungcheol drove his cock into you, hitting you so deep that you felt him just below your cervix and you moaned the loudest that night. Strangled moan after strangled moan came out of your mouth while throaty grunts and curse words flew off from his, all this mixed with the explicit sound of your sweaty bodies colliding.

"m-more, daddy! More, please!"  

"Fuuuuuuck, you're insatiable, so fucking tight," Seungcheol moaned. His movements were rough, pulling out of you completely before fully slamming back in and going deep with every move. The sex was everything close to animalistic, you could feel him in the deepest parts of you, consistently hitting a spot that made your brain short circuit. "So needy for my cum, want to be filled so bad."

"Daddy, so- oh my god. So fucking big.”

“Princess, I-I’m.. s-so...close,” he warned, staring at your teary eyes while your hands intertwined behind his neck. Seungcheol buried his cock in you, not bothering to thrust out of your grip, instead grinding endlessly to help stimulate your clit against his pelvis.

"Cum with me, Cheollie. P-please."  

Your husband growled before his hips jerked twice, hot spurts of his cum painting your walls white. His eyes boring into yours and the feeling of being so full only triggered your own release, rendering you into a babbling mess. Seungcheol connected your mouths in a kiss, not caring that you were already out of breath. He interspersed them with praises of how good you felt clenching on his cock. 

"I love you, Cheollie." 

"I know baby, I know. I love you too," he breathed, hissing at how hard he still was despite just hitting his climax. His dick was almost painful in your tight hold, "give me one more, yeah?" 

Before you could even process his question, you were already flipped on all fours, whining at the temporary emptiness. "Wha- Cheol, I-" 

"Be good for daddy, yeah? One more, princess. One more to get you round and full." But who were you to deny your Choi Seungcheol? Your husband who was just as ready to start a family with you like he's always dreamed of. Your arms gave way when you felt him breach your abused hole once more, your limp body allowing him to control your hips even more. He was kneading your ass, surely leaving handprints in his wake. 

"Ch- ahh!" You cried in a silent scream, the pleasure you were feeling just devouring your every being. You could feel the goosebumps rise on you scalp and run to the tips of your toes as Seungcheol pounded you from behind. "Cheollie... Oh.. oh! fu-uuuck." 

He pulled you by your hair harshly, your back flush against his chest, the low rumble of his voice affecting your body, "Call me Cheollie again and you won't get to cum." 

"Daddy!" you whined apologetically, tears freely flowing down your cheeks. 

"There you go, not so hard huh, princess?" Seungcheol teased, an arm wrapping around your shoulders while the other cupped at your cunt. "Color, my love?" 

"G-green, daddy.. Pl-Please... just j-ust cum in me." 

"Fuck, you sound so broken... So greedy for my cum." Seungcheol relentlessly fucked up into you, until his pace grew erratic and bent you both forward. He stopped himself with his forearm to the mattress so as not to crush you, but with your muscles already weak, you simply face planted into the soft hotel pillows, drool and tears staining the white sheets.

"All mine," your husband chanted repetitively, stilling inside your pussy as it clenched around him tightly. Your orgasm rippled through you in a big tidal wave that Seungcheol could just feel your slick coat him anew. Your whole body shook uncontrollably, jolts of electricity alighting all your nerves. With one last loud call of your name, Seungcheol shot his load inside you, white ropes of sticky cum filling your cunt to the brim. His own thighs trembling as he finally collapsed on you, knocking out the little air you had left. He whispered i love you's to your ear, riding out his own orgasm which lasted longer than the both of you expected, especially when he just came a few minutes ago. 

In your two years of marriage, you don't think you've ever been this spent after sex, and neither did Seungcheol. But nothing catches his attention faster than the sound of you sniffing followed by a tiny hiccup. He moves up and pulls out of you so quickly that he hisses harshly, but you whine out even louder, causing alarm bells to ring in his head. 

"nooo..." you cry pathetically, your voice barely above a whisper, "come back."

"Baby, what's wrong?" Seungcheol pulls you towards him, eyes scanning your body for any abnormal pain, dreading the next few words out of his mouth, "did I hurt you?" 

You shook your head no, your hands grabbing at his chest to pull yourself closer to him and bury your face in his neck.

"Princess..." he started gently, still not completely sure if you were really okay. "I need your words. Need you to tell me if I hurt you." 

You choked as you tried to speak, voice straining from all the noises you've made tonight, but you were well aware your crying did nothing to comfort your husband. "I'm okay." 

"Was I too much?" 

"No. Never." You assured with a soft kiss on his chest. "So good to me." 

Seungcheol let out a sigh of relief at your words. "Wanna tell me why you're crying?" He asked, moving you both on your side so he could look at you properly, one hand soothing your back. His warm breath tickled your face, as he tried to wipe away your tears with the softest look in his eyes. 

You felt another squeeze in your heart while warmth crept up in your cheeks, both your hands instinctively covering your face when tears pricked at your eyes once more. You mumbled something but Cheol couldn't really understand and he didn't want to push, so he held you tighter instead, leaving kisses on your shoulder as his free hand brushed your hair. He could feel your tears wet his neck and shoulder and he willed himself to stay patient and calm. 

"I'm sorry," you squeaked after a long bout of silence between you two, "am I scaring you?" 

"A little bit," Seungcheol chuckled. 

You looked up into his eyes, wanting to make sure he knows he did nothing wrong, "I'm just overwhelmed," your voice began to crack again at the last word, "I... I just... I really want a family with you, Cheol," you sobbed, your hands attempting to cover your face again but your husband was quick enough to grab at them. His own cupped your face instead, a thumb wiping at your tears as he let out the brightest smile, his own cheeks dusted in a light pink shade. "I really want this to work, Cheol." 

"I do, too, baby but in our own time, yeah? If it’s for us, then it will happen one way or another. Let's not pressure ourselves too much. I don't want you to pressure yourself too much," your husband comforted, "Besides, with or without kids, I already have you... and Kkuma… you're already family to me."  

You were pretty sure you felt your heart grow a size bigger at his words, mentally thanking the heavens you had a husband who adored and loved you so much.

Your moment was cut off by the incessant buzz of a phone and when you looked towards the bedside table to check, sure enough your device was vibrating towards the edge. Picking it up to stop the ring, your eyes grew wide at the notification that flashed on top of the screen, a smile dancing on your lips as you comprehended the app’s words in black font.

"Cheollie?" 

"Yeah?"

"I'm ovulating."

Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated ☺️

[obsessivevoidkitten]

The Adoring Fan

Kinktober Day 7: Worshipped

Human Male Yandere x Gender Neutral Vampire Reader

CW: Noncon, stalking, kidnapping, religious symbols, reader worshipped, vampirism, blood consumption, general yandere behavior

Word Count: 840

(Hope you enjoy this short fic. At least it's longer than a drabble.)

You were a high-ranking member of the Warrior's Guild. You were pretty renowned and had saved many people from all manner of beasts and disasters.

You weren't as bulky and brutish as most of the members, but you were just as strong and agile as the best of them.

This was because you were a vampire. Though no one actually knew that.

No one but the young man you had saved a few years back from a burning building. His silver crucifix necklace had touched your skin and burned you, forcing you to use your vampiric form. Pointy ears, fangs, dark eyes.

The young man, Nael, had promised to keep your secret. You had saved him after all. To him, your vampiric form was perfection.

But the more he thought about it, the more inspired by you he had become. He also became increasingly worried that someone would find your secret and hurt you. Your renown had gradually grown until you were a famous hero. He reasoned that the more eyes that were on you, the more likely it would be for someone to discover your secret.

His home and livelihood as a farmer had turned to cinders. It made it easy for him to leave his life behind.

Nael researched vampires, lived with monks for a while, and learned how to fight.

Then he set about finding you. It wasn't hard to find rumors and tales of your exploits, but you never stayed in the same place very long.

He decided to join the guild to make finding you easier. It did. It didn't take long for you to come to the main guil hall and pick up some assignments from the board.

Then he just had to wait on the path to your next job and ambush you.

Of course, your keen predatory senses could sniff out a human in hiding easily. Even hear their heartbeat.

Nael was prepared.

He used the most minor magic, available to all humans who were dedicated enough to learn, and silenced himself completely. He used sanctified dirt from hallowed ground to hide his natural smell.

As you passed him, he stuck you with an arrow that had been annointed in holy water. It wasn't lethal but rather acted as a paralytic sleeping agent.

You woke up in a cabin far from civilization that Nael had painstakingly prepared for you.

"Ah, you're awake!"

You were still paralyzed and could only grunt in anger and confusion. Had you been discovered? Was this an assassin? Why hadn't they disposed of you already? Were they hoping for information first? For you to turn them? Were they planning to blackmail you into doing something?

Your frantic racing thoughts were cut off by a greedy kiss and shaky hands rubbing up and down your thighs and then your sides.

You growled both in surprise and to show you did not approve.

"Shhhh, it's okay. You're safe now! You saved me years ago, and now I'm saving you!"

He stared into your eyes in sheer reverence before trailing kisses down your body.

"You m-must have been so scared that you'd be d-discovered! Your selfless nature would have g-gotten you hurt eventually… I'm s-saving you from yourself."

His voice was a comforting coo, and he pressed gentle kisses all over your face. You grunted, but he ignored it.

"I l-love you so much! I'll t-take care of all your needs, okay?"

He said this as he rubbed his hand between your legs. You made a strangled, high-pitched noise that sounded somewhat like a yelp.

"Blood, sex, safety. I-I'll take care of it all."

He pulled your clothing off and used his mouth between your legs until you climaxed, then he licked you clean of your fluids. After that he lubed you up and slid into your hole, gently fucking into you as he blushed deeply.

"I know your kind have a huge sexual appetite! I-I'll make sure to sate it~"

Nael kissed you constantly during the whole ordeal, moaning your name as he filled you deeply with the physical manifestation of his unbridled love.

When the holy water wore off, you jumped up and headed for the door. You found yourself sluggish and unable to overpower the amorous human.

"Get away from me, you psycho!"

He pulled you back into bed with him and held you close.

"I-I'm not a psycho… I just want w-what's best for you. You'll s-see soon. Your heroics exposed you, o-others would have found out eventually! Do you want to see the shrine I made for you??"

And you did see. The entire forest had been meticulously blessed and consecrated, and a large fence made from holy silver alloy enclosed the entirety of the land around the cabin.

That combined with the fact that Nael put a tiny dose of holy water in the blood he fed you resulted in you being majorly weakened and almost constantly fatigued.

There was no other choice but to let Nael tend to you in whatever manner he chose.

[apeachty]

₊ ˚ ⊹ ♡ . ⠀be quiet | cbg

⠀⠀⠀meany!beomgyu x fem!reader

genre ; smut

warnings | tags ; beomgyu is mean and frustrated (and hot); a tiny bit of subtle cock worship; name calling ('slut' + 'pathetic'); NO protection mentioned; probably something else but i forgot.

wordcount ; 0.9k

✉ notes ; getting a meltdown while trying to come up with nicknames beomgyu would call his s/o is... meh. if anyone has any suggestions for all the members—

also kinda tagging my bestie @biteyoubiteme because she loves gamer gyu, but it's... not much of a gamer gyu, but... ily sorry

happy new year everyone! i hope 2025 will be kind to you and people who are important to you ♡ thank you so much for reading, i'm happy to have you all in my life ♡

⠀⠀⠀[ masterlist is here ]

you weren't sure how you went there—one moment you were sitting cross-legged on the couch beside beomgyu as he played league of legends on his laptop, and the next, you found yourself kneeling on the rough fabric, face down, cheek pressed against the t-shirt he had carelessly thrown on the couch to prevent you from rubbing your cheek against it. you felt his hand on the side of your head, pushing your face further into the fabric as his other hand pulled your bottoms down to your knees, your underwear going with them.

"g-gyu—" you whimpered, unsure if you wanted him to stop or continue. it was the middle of the night in the dorm's living room, and while some of the members were known to wander around at random hours, you were too far gone to care. you had been wet for nearly an hour already, watching beomgyu groan and curse his "completely useless, good-for-nothing" teammates. his forearms flexed as one hand clicked the mouse buttons aggressively and the other flew over the keys, hands that seemed to be made by the gods themselves.

he pulled his sweatpants down, freeing himself with a soft groan. instinctively, you tried to turn your head to look back at him—you loved his cock so much, you could admire it for hours, for days from between his legs—but he quickly pressed your head back down, pushing your chin up so you could barely see him. this made you whimper in protest, your body aching for him.

beomgyu chuckled, pushing two of his fingers inside you, scissoring them to stretch you out. "ohh, what a pathetic little pup," he murmured, his voice filled with a pout. "wants to see my cock so badly. would do anything for it, wouldn't you?" his fingers curled inside you, making you clench around them and mewl into the fabric of his t-shirt.

you whined a quiet "please", already wet enough to take him. your inner thighs were slick with your arousal, and you pushed your hips back, trying to show him you were ready and couldn't wait. you didn't care about the stretching, craving the little pain that always came with his dick.

beomgyu wanted to torture you more, to make you cry, beg, and whimper. he loved seeing your face wet and your mind filled only with thoughts of him, loved seeing the dumb, lust-filled look in your eyes. sometimes, he managed to make you go dumb for his cock before it even left his pants. but this time, he knew you barely had any time. he knew should’ve pulled you to his bedroom and fuck you in his bed, but you’d been almost grinding the couch for half an hour, stealing his concentration completely. by the end of the game he could barely think about anything but you.

he rolled his eyes as he finally started pushing his cock inside, the tip alone feeling like heaven. it was wet, tight, and so warm, shaped just for him. he couldn't wait to feel you clenching around him. with a sharp exhale, he buried himself inside you completely, biting his lip to stay quiet. but you didn't do the same—your moan cut through the night air. fuck, he thought. it was hot but too risky, soobin would scold the shit out of him for fucking in a shared space.

when he pulled out, you whimpered—he stretched you out so good, you were praying for him to stay inside longer, but it only lasted a moment before he wrapped his fingers around your neck, pulling you up by it to stand on your knees. he told you to grab his t-shirt, which you did, clenching it in your hands as your back pressed against his chest.

not-so-gently, beomgyu left a bite on your neck, groaning "stay. quiet." into it before tearing the t-shirt away from your hands and turning you around, pushing you to lay on the couch. you swallowed thickly as he towered over you, your gaze immediately drawn to his cock, your tongue darting out to lick your lips involuntarily.

he pushed his bangs back, looking down at you sprawled beneath him, your eyes glued to his cock that you couldn't wait to have inside you. it was mutual, and he slapped your thigh quietly, saying "up". beomgyu knew you were a good, smart girl, so even in your current state, you lifted your hips up, letting him put his t-shirt under you.

you reached out for him immediately, hands trying to grab his arms to pull him down. he tsked, shaking his head, but you both knew he loved it. he parted your legs, positioning his cock at your entrance once more. lowering himself on top of you this time, he leaned on his elbow not to crush you, his palm finding its place on your face, covering your mouth. his fingers dug into your cheeks as he buried himself to the hilt with one sharp movement, making you arch your back and moan into his hand, eyes screwed shut.

"can never be quiet, can you?" beomgyu asked breathlessly, your reaction to him making his brain hazy. "if you wake any of them up, i'll ask that one to join. f-fuck— you're clenching around me. liking the thought, little slut?"

[diana-thyme]

Greek Gods 101: A Masterlist

This is a masterlist of the “Greek Gods 101” series. This series aims to provide basic information and worship ideas for both major and minor deities. This masterlist also involves heroes, deified mortals, spirits, and other figures of Greek mythology. This list is now newly organized into letter categories.

A’s & B’s

C’s & D’s

E’s & F’s

G’s & H’s

I’s & L’s

M’s & N’s

O’s & P’s

R’s & S’s

T’s, U’s, & Z’s

What is a “Universal Offering/Devotional Act?”

Feel free to request or suggest deities! This list will be done in order but you can ask for me to complete one that’s further down the list. Requests take priority!

This list is subject to change. There are probably repeat deities (deities who go by multiple names, parts of groups like the Horae or Charities who are mostly grouped together, etc.) on this list. Some deities are not on here. Some names are spelt wrong or different.

[sanspuppet]

Smut (MDNI)

today i kept daydreaming about this fucking man dirty talking to his s/o while driving her to her climax

reader is horny just like me rn, i was going crazy while writing it huh

W/T: unprotected sex, big dick Mingi (cuz yeah he has), dirty talking, kinda spanking kink (?)

“Fuck yeah, you like it?” Mingi slams his cock inside you from behind. Your slutty instinct makes you arch your back as you feel his length diving deeper into your throbbing pussy, letting out high pitched (occasionally broken) moans, making you and a horny pornostar sound alike. Your ass cheeks are covered by red handprints of Mingi, as he likes to see them jiggle by his sharp spanks. “No one else could fuck you like this, agree?” his low, cocky voice booms inside the bedroom, but knowing that your mind’s completely persuaded by his dick, you take a few seconds to develop a quick reply: “y-yeah!” He grips harshly your ass, making your lower body stay still when he pumps into you even rougher. “A slut like you would like to get fucked by other cocks, don’t you? Huh? Or you want to be ruined only by me?” His voice sounds possessive, Mingi always wants to fuck raw, the thought of breeding you and mark you as his gets his mind blurry every time he’s about to cum inside your aroused cunt. “Answer baby, you’d like to be fucked by other men?” His thrusts are getting more decisive than before, insisting on you to get any reply. “D-dick” is quite embarrassing that’s all you can articulate, earning a confident chuckle by Mingi: “Yeah, who’s it?” your body starts to move oppositely to his, now you’re the one who’s fucking herself. “Y-yours… so g-good.” Your ass rolls rhythmically along with his cock inside you, pushing your restricted area further against his pelvis, enough for his tip to hit your overstimulated g-spot and help you reaching your orgasm. Your moves are so smooth and natural that make Mingi smirk at the sight, palming your soft body, while it tries to worship his leaking member. “Fuck” he lets out a deep groan, squeezing his eyes with joy. “How many pornos have you watched, princess? where did you learn how to move like a fucking slut?” Mingi’s forcing himself not to record a quick video of you right in this moment, watching you becoming a desperate mess while you’re using his dick to please you. He glances at your neck, covered with purple marks that he made just before fucking into you. “How many, huh? are you too fucked out to even think properly?” You bury your head into the pillow, moans and whines are muffled by it, once he takes the lead again. “Mmh fuck- lots.” Mingi leans over your back, holding on his wrists and knees as he keeps pumping into you, occasionally biting the soft skin of your shoulder.

“Yeah babe, keep making such sweet noises while i fuck you till oblivion.”

[kurogane2512]

This is based on the origami bird clash event that came in Jade's release patch and I wanted to write it since then cause I was disappointed with her screentime so yeah here it is

Side note, it's my birthday today (12.12) so I'll take this as my birthday treat hehe~

18+ CONTENT

Honkai Star Rail

Jade x g!p reader (Trailblazer)

Smut with plot, long fic (dom Jade, use of collar and leash, slight foot worship)

You were strolling through the magnificent ship, Radiant Feldspar, after your eventful journey in Penacony. It had been a rather relaxing experience as you did some activities and spent time with your friends to unwind. You suddenly received an invitation from a member of the Iris Family to test a game, you were suspicious at first but decided to check it out anyways and to your relief, it turned out to be legit.

It was a simple match-3 puzzle battle game with some engaging mechanics and your avatar transformed into different origami birds. You ended up testing the game with different companions who were residing on the Radiant Feldspar, until an unexpected 'acquaintance' came in. It was Jade, a senior manager in the IPC and one of the Ten Stonehearts. You had a brief interaction with her some time ago, nothing too worth but interesting enough.

You certainly didn't expect to meet her again so soon since you had assumed she would have returned to the IPC headquarters by now. Madam Jade, as everyone around you called her, was a busy woman. On top of that, she was gorgeous and elegant. You had met very few women in your life who came close to her beauty, yet there was something different about Madam Jade that made you quite entranced.

"There are quite a number of familiar faces here today. I didn't expect to meet all of you again so soon." Jade remarked as she looked at the crowd gathered around to play the game with you before her eyes fell on you and almost glinted as if she saw something interesting.

"Hello, Madam Jade. What a coincidence...." March replied while shyly looking away, followed by Robin greeting her as well.

Jade smiled, "I was only intending to do Topaz a favor and check on the progress of this project. I certainly didn't expect to be surprised as well. But since there's such a lively crowd, let's give them something to cheer about. Miss Tinah, would you play a match on my behalf?"

"Eh? O-Of course, Madam Jade!" Tinah replied, flustered.

"You don't want to play it yourself, ma'am?" you interjected, causing everyone to look at you in surprise as if you said something wrong. Jade was, however, amused.

"Hehe, I'm afraid I'm short on time. Besides, I'd rather not spoil the fun of the youngsters with my terrible gaming skills~"

Everyone nodded and didn't argue in any manner, Jade could tell you had something more to say but held back and went back to playing. A new bird inspired by Jade was added into the game and you started playing a new match with Tinah while using the Jadebird. The match went on for a while, you happened to glance at Jade once and saw her engaged in a phone call with her back turned to the crowd. You could understand now why she didn't have the time, but you still wished she played for a little while.

The match finally ended as you defeated Tinah once again and emerged victorious for the fifth consecutive time, despite having started playing this game just mere hours ago.

"My, aren't you skilled at this?~" a familiar sultry voice suddenly spoke in your ear from behind and you almost turned around with a gasp but quickly realized who was speaking and kept your composure.

"A-Ah, Ms Jade! T-Thank you...." you fumbled on your words as you couldn't handle the way she sneakily crept up to you and was watching you, not to mention how sweet her voice was when she spoke so close to your ear. Jade smiled and walked away to stand with the rest of the crowd while Tinah announced the match was over.

"Congratulations to Miss Trailblazer for coming first in the test! This beautifully elegant and quietly dignified bird now belongs to you! You may place it now if you'd like!" Tinah announced and handed the Jadebird to you.

You looked at the cute origami bird modeled after Jade and slightly blushed before placing it on the arcade machine.

"Perfect! Utterly perfect...! Alright, seeing as the test is coming to an end, shall we take a group photo to commemorate this moment?" Tinah continued.

All of your companions agreed and started forming a line for the group photo with you standing in the center.

"Uh.... how about you, Madam Jade?" Tinah asked Jade who was silently standing in the corner all this time and watching things unfold. Jade gave the same formal smile as before and shook her head.

"That won't be necessary. After all, the social dynamics of this place are quite complicated. It would be rather unfortunate if the photo is seen by others." Jade said, and Tinah immediately understood as she didn't pursue the topic further.

Once again, Jade looked at you and could tell you wanted to say something but held back. She couldn't help but feel even more intrigued about you, she was already interested in the esteemed Astral Express and their enigmatic new member who has a Stellaron inside her, but interacting personally with you made her interested in other ways. The photograph was clicked soon after and Tinah announced the successful completion of the test and the additional benefits for everyone who participated.

Everyone eventually dispersed away and the venue was mostly empty, save for a few customers at the bar counter. Tinah secretly told you and March about a new game mode for the arcade machines and suggested you to stay and play them for a bit but March turned her down since you had other work to do but promised Tinah to come back later. You glanced at Jade one last time and noticed how she was already walking away without speaking a word to anyone, she truly was quite mysterious to you.

You thought you wouldn't meet Jade again now but it seems fate had other plans for you. It was late evening when you came back to the arcade area alone in order to fulfill your promise to Tinah and to your utmost surprise, you saw none other than Madam Jade standing in front of the machines and seemingly pondering something. You waited for a while by standing outside and your eyes widened seeing her start to play a game on them. You noticed the area was completely empty except for the bartender, likely due to Robin's surprise performance happening downstairs.

"Ahem, fancy meeting you again, Ms Jade." you greeted Jade as you walked in, making her immediately stop playing as she casually turned to greet you back.

"Oh, our paths crossed once again sooner than expected, Trailblazer. I thought you'd be witnessing Ms Robin's performance~"

"I did see some of it but I figured I should come here and do what I promised to Tinah since I will be departing the ship tomorrow morning."

"I see. Well, I'll let you complete your promise then. Have a good day."

Jade smiled and was about to walk away when you quickly stopped her.

"A-Ah, wait! If you aren't busy then do you mind playing with me? I think it'll be more effective to play against a human than the machine."

Jade's eyes flickered at your proposal, a smirk drawing up her lips.

"That eager to have me play with you, hm? Were you so disappointed that I didn't play in the morning?~"

A light blush formed on your face but you didn't want to give in so easily.

"Well, aren't you eager to play it yourself? You wouldn't be here all alone in secret if you weren't, right?~"

Jade smirked more and walked closer to you, her figure towering as she stared at you with a cunning look.

"Careful with your words, Trailblazer. People would pay a fortune to have me in this position~"

"I will make it worth your presence then, if you accept that mode of payment."

Jade chuckled, "We can discuss the mode of payment later. For now, we should start if we are to complete before closing time~"

You nodded with a smile and breathed out a sigh of relief after turning the other way. You had no idea how those words came out of your mouth, and you didn't expect Jade to even reciprocate in such a manner. But what's done was done, and now you were out here playing games with the one and only Madam Jade. You started with the Origami Bird Clash game to test her skills, and also because she was playing it earlier when you spotted her. You figured she was secretly quite interested in it but found it difficult to express it due to her position.

"Do you want a tutorial on how to play, ma'am?" you asked her.

"No need, I observed the methodology sufficiently in the morning. Thank you for the offer."

You nodded then selected your characters, choosing the birds modeled after each of you, then started playing. Jade was a little slow in the beginning which gave you the opportunity to score more points in the first round, but right away from second round she picked up her pace and gave you a hard time.

"This is quite enjoyable, I can see the children liking it very much." Jade commented.

"Indeed, but too bad not many children come on the Radiant Feldspar."

"Well, that is in your hands now to change as the new owner~"

"Hmm, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to make it more child-friendly— Oh no, what?!" you gasped out as you saw yourself losing the third round all of a sudden, you didn't realize how it happened since you were still focused on playing even if conversing.

"Hm? First time tasting defeat in this game, Trailblazer?~" Jade remarked.

"At least it's honorable since it came from you, Ms Jade~"

"Keep up with that silver tongue of yours and you may just lose the entire match~"

You chuckled, "I suppose I should find a way to sweep you off your feet now~"

"Ah, letting me in on your secrets so soon? I thought I'd have to work you harder~"

You shrugged, "I don't think there's any secret of mine that you already don't know. In fact, you may know things that I have never even heard of.."

Jade raised an eyebrow, "Don't sell yourself so short. After all, you are still one of the most mysterious entities in existence...."

Jade paused and looked at the game screen before pressing a button that decided the outcome of the fourth round, "Perhaps we could have a little deal after you beat me in this~"

"A deal.... I'm afraid there's not much I can offer you for all the valuable intel and assets you have. Not to mention, I still have to pay you for agreeing to this game."

You looked back at the screen and saw the score was at a tie currently with both of you winning 2 rounds each, that means the next round would decide the winner.

"Hehe, the first principle of negotiating a deal is to keep pressing after victory. It wouldn't hurt to try, would it?~"

You pondered for a while then let out a sigh and agreed before continuing with the final round of the game. You were way more fired up now and eager to win, you didn't really care about the deal but you didn't want to lose to her. The match started and you decided to change your approach slightly considering Jade wasn't an easy opponent, being patient was the key to winning against her. It was better to seek out opportunities for high score instead of collecting numerous low scores. That being said, you had limited number of moves and finding high score chances was difficult.

You happened to glance at Jade once and were quite surprised by the expression on her face, a small smile tugged her lips and her eyes sparkled. It was not the smile of a businesswoman concealing secrets and schemes, not the eyes of a cunning merchant who could stare into your soul and reveal all your desires. No, this was the expression of a simple woman enjoying a moment of respite. Your impression of her so far had been of an elegant but cold pawnbroker, a senior manager in the IPC and one of the Ten Stonehearts whose sole purpose was to benefit the IPC. But you had come to learn from her colleagues that all of them harbored deep secrets and painful pasts, you wondered if Jade was same.

"If you are so interested in staring at my face then perhaps we should switch up the game to something more intimate~" Jade commented and looked back at you, catching your eyes with hers. You quickly looked away and cleared your throat then continued playing.

"I don't mind that. Having the opportunity to look at your beautiful face is worth everything~"

Jade chuckled, "Trying to flatter me to make me slip up and snatch victory for yourself? I'm well aware of such tactics, Trailblazer~"

"No, I'm simply being honest. You looked really beautiful just now, is it rare for you to indulge in such simple things?"

Jade remained silent and processed your words while turning back at the game, "There is a price for such information, Trailblazer. Are you ready to pay it?~"

You blushed, "I....suppose we could discuss that in our deal later~"

Jade didn't miss the faint red on your cheeks and smirked, "Oh? Are you so sure you will get the opportunity to do that considering the state of our match currently?~"

"You of all people should know the tides can be turned anytime~"

Of course, Jade knew anything was possible in a game like this, even if she had the means to control it. She also discreetly glanced at you from head-to-toe and became more interested in you, wanting to dig deeper in your heart. But, patience was her strongest virtue. A small loss here meant a bigger victory later.

"So, any romantic endeavours you have found in the land of dreams?~"

Jade's sudden question made you stop in your tracks and feel flustered.

"T-That.... I wasn't expecting you to ask something like that...."

"Why, I'm merely curious. The Nameless are no less than heroes here, especially you seem to be the target of affection of many. I could name some of them from the top of my head~"

You pursed your lips and hesitated to reply back, there was something daring you wanted to say but weren't sure if it was appropriate. You were already surprised Jade even tolerated you so far, you didn't know how much further you could push it. But at this stage, you felt there was a connection between you two.

"....Are you also one of them, Ms Jade?~"

She was half expecting you to say that, she wanted to see just how adventerous you really were. Her eyes narrowed as she gave you a sly glance, "You would like that, wouldn't you?~"

"W-Well, I suppose anyone would be honored to know an IPC senior manager is romantically interested in them, especially when it's you. Your reputation speaks for yourself, I'm sure plenty of people have tried pursuing you."

She chuckled, "I'm afraid I don't recall expressing my interest~"

"And I'm afraid your actions say otherwise~"

"Hehe, I think it's your own mind conjuring up some kind of desires. We are having a simple arcade match here, aren't we?~"

"I suppose that's one way to put it. It means I still have the chance to pursue you otherwise, right?~"

"You are welcome to try. But perhaps you should try pursuing your victory here first~"

Your focus never left the match, both of you were left with 1 move each now and it would be the deciding factor since your score was equal so far. You contemplated which cell to move, you needed a high score badly. Your eyes roamed to Jade's player icon and you saw her make her final move which brought her score higher than yours by 50 points, you really were in a difficult position now. Jade intently watched you strategize your next move and something came over her which eventually allowed you to win. You made your final move and watched the score calculated and by a miracle, you beat her by 10 points.

"Yes!" you celebrated as your screen showed the victory animation. Jade stepped back with a smile and clapped her hands.

"Congratulations, it was a good match~"

"Thank you for playing, Ms Jade, and I apologize if I wasted your time."

"Not at all, it was quite fruitful."

She smiled as you walked to her side and extended your hand out in a handshake position which she reciproacted to show her appreciation.

"So, how should I pay you for agreeing to this?"

Jade hummed and crossed her arms over her chest, "How about....having a drink with me? We could also discuss the deal at the same time~"

You nodded with a smile, "It would be my pleasure."

You walked with Jade towards the bar counter and took a seat beside her then looked at the menu to order a drink. You were still quite shocked by the exchange between you two, you weren't sure if she was seriously flirting with you or simply entertaining herself.

"Hmm, I'll have Cosmic Turbidity." Jade ordered to the bartender.

You flipped through to look at the drink she ordered and couldn't comprehend all the ingredients written, you just knew it was an expensive fancy drink.

"Uh.... I'll have that as well." you decided to not think too much and trust her choice.

Nervousness grew in you as you continued sitting with her and wondering what she was thinking, her face was unreadable with the poker expression she always donned.

"Well, I'm ready to hear your end of the deal. State your desire, Trailblazer~"

Jade rested her face on her held up palm against the table and looked at you with a smirk, waiting for you to speak. You fiddled with your fingers as you pondered over what to say, finding it difficult since you didn't expect to reach so far.

"Uh.... w-well, it isn't necessary that I have to ask for something, right? You can also ask anything from me."

Jade smiled and extended her hand to caress your hair strands, a blush appearing on your face.

"I have already requested drinks, haven't I? The agreement was that you will ask something from my wealth of intel and assets and I will ask an equal price in return— not the other way around."

You pursed your lips and averted your gaze realizing the situation was inescapable. Right after, the bartender placed both of your drinks in front of you. Jade picked up her glass and brought it close to you, "Cheers?~"

You hurriedly picked up your glass and clinked with hers, "Cheers."

You looked at the drink inside and contemplated how it tasted, while Jade had already taken a sip and let out a relaxed hum.

"A potent brew, just what I needed after that heated match~"

You also took a sip after her comment and to your surprise, it was delicious and refreshing while not having a strong alchohol flavor.

"So? Have you decided what you want?~" Jade probed you more. You decided it was better to come clean and tell the truth.

"I.... I'm sorry, I don't really have anything to ask from you. I truly didn't expect to reach so far and that you were really serious about this. My apologies for wasting your time."

You expected Jade to become distressed and mock you but instead she simply smiled more and cupped your face, her fingers stroking your cheek.

"What happened to the boldness you had before? There must be something you desire~"

Her hand dropped to caress your chest before settling on your thigh and rubbing it while she leaned closer to whisper in your ear.

"Surely you must have a reason for leading me on that way, flirting with me so openly~"

Your face turned redder at her words and the close proximity, you could feel her breasts pressing against you this way and smell the scent of her bewitching perfume.

"I.... I didn't.... I was just trying to talk and know you better...."

"Then you should know I don't appreciate being deceived this way. I expected better from a Nameless~"

Her sultry voice flew in your ear and tickled your lobe, shivers going down your body realizing the dire situation.

"T-That's why I said you can ask me anything instead, I'll do it without any price...."

Jade leaned away and took another sip from her drink while you exhaled a deep breath and looked at her with a guilty expression.

"I really do apologize for this, I-I can g—"

"Shh~" she kept her index finger on your lips, stopping you from speaking. The same finger then traced your jaw before she grabbed your chin, her eyes staring into yours.

"Shall I dig up your desire then? Your reason for approaching me, for.....wanting to know me better?~"

You swallowed a lump and hesitated to look at her, feeling nervous about what she really knew. She smirked more and released your chin but continued stroking your face with her fingers.

"So, you are all talk and no action, hm? Have you ever done this before?"

"Done what before....?"

"Courting someone."

Your eyes widened and you looked down, "N-No, never. Never really got the chance before...."

"And you chose me to be your first? Quite a high target you set for yourself~"

"I just.... I don't know what came over me either, I found you beautiful from the moment I saw you but I never really thought we'd have something. When you came here in the morning, I.... felt you were holding back due to the people present. I wish you played with me and also came in the picture, maybe I'd have been satisfied with that and never approached you now."

Your words tugged at Jade's heart, the honesty and sincerity impressed her and she was also a little surprised.

"S-So, um.... I'm really sorry for this. I know I disappointed you and wasted your time...."

Jade listened to each and every word you said before smiling to herself and extending her hand to touch yours, gently intertwining your fingers together.

"Well, lucky for you because....." she paused and leaned near your ear to whisper, "....You are exactly my type~"

Your face reddened up to your ears now, unable to comprehend the turn of events. She saw your flustered face and chuckled internally, "Certainly not what I expected the special Trailblazer to be like but.... it's adorable~"

"Your type? I.... P-Please don't joke with me...." you averted your gaze.

Your reaction only fueled her more, an urge in her to claim you for herself. She smiled and took one last sip from her drink before standing up, "Accompany me somewhere~"

You nodded and finished your drink as well then indicated to the bartender to take care of the payment. You then followed Jade as she walked to the lower floor of the ship before entering one of the guest rooms at the end of the corridor, you recognized it was the room she was staying at as you had met her there before. You became nervous thinking of what she had in mind, you didn't even know what kind of desire she found in you. You watched her walk inside the room and waited at the door for any kind of signal from her then suddenly heard a familiar voice call your name.

"Ah, Y/n! There you are! I have been looking for you everywhere!"

You saw that it was March and quickly went up to where she was standing instead of letting her come to you.

"What is it, March?"

"Where have you been? You missed Robin's show!"

"I was testing the game for Tinah. What are you doing?"

"I'm going back to my room to sleep, I'm really tired now." March said with a yawn.

Jade heard the commotion and came to the door to see you talking with March. She kept herself discreet and simply observed the way you conversed with her, realizing how different you were with her compared to herself. At the end, she saw March hug you and how naturally you returned the embrace while were too shy to initiate any kind of physical contact with her. You then bid farewell to March and came back to Jade's room only to see her standing at the door with her hat removed and eyes fixated on you.

"Ah, sorry about that. I just told her I will stay out longer for some work."

She smiled, "No worries, it's good that you informed her because you are certainly going to be staying away for long~"

"What....?"

Just at that moment, Jade grabbed your wrist and swiftly pulled you inside the room then shut the door close and pinned you against the nearby wall. You hissed from the force of being pushed, her body pressing against you and capturing you in between.

"Did you think I'd let you off so easily after your deception? It's been so long since someone dared to flirt with me and get me all worked up, surely you aren't going to leave me unsatisfied?~"

She pressed her knee between your thighs, rubbing up into your erection. A small gasp escaped your lips at her sudden actions, your mind becoming hazy by the moment.

"I.... I will do my best, ma'am...."

Jade smiled, "Good girl. Also, call me Jade from now on. If there is something else I want you to call me then I will tell you~"

"Okay, Jade...."

With that, Jade pressed her lips to yours and engaged in a rough kiss. She didn't wait anymore and was quick right off the bat, moving her lips with yours like a starved being and making it hard for you to breathe. Her tongue slipped in before you realized and was rolling with yours, your breaths mingling as she passionately kissed you. Her hands possessively held your face and tilted it as she pleased to kiss you deeper, not giving you any kind of control as she lead all the way.

"Mmmh.... J-Jade...." you moaned into the kiss, your chest heaving from the lack of air.

Jade released the kiss with a gasp hearing your struggle, her tongue licking up your lips and tasting you.

"That was just the start, my darling. Save your energy because I'm not letting you off the hook easily~"

Her knee pressed into your erection again, you knew she was doing this intentionally but it was hard to resist. As things continued, you found yourself being pushed onto the bed with Jade climbing on top and straddling you, your lips still connected together in a heated exchange. Her hands roamed all over your body as if she was desperate to tear every piece of clothing, she may as well do it if she was in the mood. She pulled away and sat up on your waist, gazing at you beneath her with a smirk and her thumb caressing your lipstick stained lips.

"Since you said you have never courted someone, is it also your first time doing this?"

"Uh, n-no, actually...."

"Oh, that's a surprise. A secret endeavour, I'm guessing?~" she started unbuttoning your shirt.

"N-No, it's.... complicated. It was basically an accident and I was told to forget about it in the end so...."

Jade noticed the sad look in your eyes and leaned down to peck your lips, "If it's a soft spot for you then I will not press it further. After all, I want you to enjoy this as much as I will. You can think of this as your first time if you want, I'll make it memorable for you~"

You didn't expect her to be so considerate and caring, you thought she only wanted to use you to satisfy herself and didn't care how you felt. You sat up as she pulled off your shirt and stared at your naked body with a smirk, you looked back at her clothed body in front of you and gathered enough courage to start unbuckling her belt to remove her coat.

"Mm, good job. Initiating this way shows you are at least interested. Now then...." she held your shoulders and pushed you down to lay flat, "....Relax and let me handle everything else~"

She pulled off her coat, exposing her half naked body to you covered by a set of black lace underwear and bra now. Your breath hitched looking at her beautiful body, your hands itching to touch her. Jade knew well enough where you were staring, and how aroused you were due to the way your cock strained against your pants and poked her clothed core. She bit her lower lip as she started grinding on your erection, pressing her clit against your shaft just the right away. She was about to unhook her bra when she noticed you trying to sit up and your hands attempting to hold her.

"M-May I....?"

She smiled and nodded, "Do the honors~"

She held your arms and guided them around her, essentially embracing her with your face buried in her breasts. You found the hook easily and unclasped it, finally revealing her beautiful perky breasts. She pushed her breasts up to envelop more of your face, your senses getting overwhelmed by her hypnotizing body scent and the softness of her breasts. You slowly grabbed them and started kneading them, squeezing them in your palms and feeling the way her nipples erected.

Jade sighed in pleasure and wrapped her arms around your head to pull you closer, you kissed all over her breasts before putting your mouth around her nipple and sucking. She arched slightly with a gasp as your tongue flicked over her nipple, your teeth lightly grazing it before sucking like a baby. Your hands continued squeezing them simultaneously, vibrations going up her body as pleasure overtook.

"Mm....that's a good girl.... You know it well e-enough, mhm!~"

You released her nipple with a pop and she wasted no time to passionately kiss you, your tongues dancing together while she resumed grinding against your bulge.

"Ngh.... c-can we please....?" you whined as you felt overwhelmed and found it difficult to hold back with your dick straining painfully in your pants. She grinned then held up your chin, "First you deceive me and now you are so desperate to relieve yourself? Tsk tsk, losing a lot of points here, Trailblazer~"

You knew what she was doing, you had come to understand the way things worked with her.

"....Yet you are still here and rubbing yourself on me, aren't you equally desperate?~"

Her icy blue eyes glowed with excitement, her hand snaking around your neck to grasp your hair lightly.

"There it is..... You should be more confident in yourself, you have quite a bit of charm~"

"W-Well, I'll keep working on that...."

Jade chuckled, "In any case, you'll have to work harder than this if you expect to be relieved~"

She then got off your lap and crawled to the side to rest against the headboard with her legs spread open. You turned around to sit in front of her then felt something forming around your neck and soon realized it was a collar connected to a leash in her hand.

Oh.

The realization dawned on you.

With a single yet strong tug, you were pulled forward and your face planted right between her porcelain legs. You could merely look up at her and see the devious smirk on her face, her eyes telling you enough of what she wanted.

"Ah, what an adorable sight. This position suits you~"

She brought her right leg up and traced your jawline with her foot, "There's a lot you have to make up for before you can even think to relieve yourself~"

You nodded and grasped her foot as it traced your face then sat up on your knees before beginning to plant light kisses down her foot up till her ankle. As you were caressing her skin, your eyes noticed a beauty mark on the outer side of her right ankle. It pleasantly surprised you since you'd have never seen this in normal circumstances as it was rather difficult to see, and you wouldn't really get a reason to see her legs this way. You kissed the beauty mark as well then moved up to kiss her calf while caressing her left leg and quickly switching to kiss it too.

"Hmm....good job....come further up now~" Jade ordered and you obliged, crawling closer between her legs while kissing up to her knee and thigh. Her plump thighs squished in your palms as you held them to spread her legs wider and look at her clothed core. You kissed and licked her inner thighs then grasped the waistband of her panties before looking at her, waiting for her permission. She thought for a moment and gave her agreement with a simple tug to the leash. You finally slipped off her black panties and noticed a string of essence sticking to them as you pulled.

Your mind muddled at the sight of her bare cunt, a cleanly waxed area of fair white skin with glistening folds and a throbbing clit waiting to be worshipped. You couldn't take your eyes off of how beautiful it was, your mouth watering at the thought of wanting to taste her already. An aromatic scent invaded your senses and made you further entranced, also heightened by the drink you had which started to take effect now.

"Enjoying the view, dear?~" Jade called out and came forward to cup your face.

You looked at her with begging eyes, like a desperate puppy that only wanted to please her owner. Oh, how could she deny you when you looked at her this way? Her hand slid down to grasp the leash and you braced yourself to be pulled again but the force never came. You looked at her with a confused look and she only smirked, totally enjoying toying with you.

"Do you want me to guide you through every step like a mother, or will you bring out that bold side of yours again?~"

She leaned close until she was near your ear and whispered, "Oh, but the thought of you calling me 'mommy' is quite enticing, darling~"

Before you could process anything, the words fell from your mouth automatically.

"M-Mommy....please...."

Her eyes glowed once again, an icy glint that made you weak in your knees. Jade only grinned wider and dropped the leash before indicating you to do more. You kneeled down once again and were face-to-face with her folds now as you stuck out your tongue and gave a small lick to her clit. She didn't react to this small action, but you were obviously not going to stop anytime soon. You continued giving kitten licks to her clit and felt it throb against your tongue, more of her essence oozing out onto the sheet.

"Mmm...go deeper now~"

Her hand grasped your head with her fingers intertwining in the strands, she gently pulled you closer and buried your mouth against her folds with your nose bumping her clit. You wasted no time and started lapping up her folds with slow and sensual strokes, licking long strips with precise angles. Jade sighed and tilted her head back to rest on the headboard while her other hand played with her nipples, her eyes boring down on you as she intently watched. You then stretched her folds and inserted your tongue inside, immediately scissoring her hot walls.

She gasped out as your tongue explored her insides, stroking the spongy muscles while your lips wrapped around her clit and sucked on the bundle of nerves. You finally received a reaction from her, her thighs started trembling as they closed around your head. Jade bit her lower lip feeling you go even deeper, touching as far as you could before plunging your tongue in and out. She grasped your hair tighter and her other hand pulled on the leash again, a startled hum escaping you and sending vibrations into her.

"Yes.... right there— hmm....more....~"

You pushed deeper and thrusted faster while your thumb rubbed and pinched her clit simultaneously. Jade didn't expect you to be so good at this, it had been a very long time since someone would be able to make her cum. She loved the sight of you being so focused on pleasuring her, if you had a tail then it would probably be wagging like crazy now with how much you loved this. But she wanted more, she wanted complete control over you- as if she didn't have it already.

"Aaah....stop~"

She pulled your head away right when you were going to make her release, but before you could question her, she pushed you to lay on your back and climbed on top of you. The change in position happened in the blink of an eye and she was straddling your face now with her core right above your lips. She said nothing and dropped her hips as you held out your tongue just at the right moment and entered her, she moaned out loud and started riding your face.

The view was ecstatic for you, watching her body writhe above as her breasts bounced and her face contort in pleasure. You held her thighs and pulled her even deeper now, her hands grasping your hair to stabilise herself while she continued grinding on top. Her hips sought her release like a wild animal, her head shooting back as the knot in her stomach threatened to snap. She pulled your hair harder as she ground herself more, dropping all of her weight on you with no care.

Melodic whines and moans filled your ears, everything about her was perfect and you wanted more and more as time passed. Then, a sudden gasp fell from your mouth as she palmed your erection, feeling your rock hard dick strain in your pants. She smirked as she rubbed your shaft and could feel pre-cum staining through the fabric, she knew you had been held back for too long, but she wanted you to wait a little longer.

"Haaah....j-just like that....make mommy cum and I'll take care of you. You want that, r-right.... mommy will reward you so well~"

Your last bit of sanity snapped now, your tongue thrusted and sucked harder than ever to make her release. Jade leaned forward and pulled your hair tightly as her release finally approached, her sweet essence spilling all over your mouth as a sultry moan resounded in the room. You licked up each and every drop, cleaning her completely as if you were drunk on her essence. She panted out on top of you as she came down from her high while gazing at you, her hands caressing your head lovingly while cooing.

"You did well.... I knew there was something that made you so special, aside from the Stellaron inside you~"

She got up from your face and looked at her juices staining your lips as you licked up all of them before sitting up yourself and breathing in and out. It was the first time you had such an intense experience, but you would do it again and again for her. Jade was now focused on your erection that had been raring to be out since forever now, she was surprised you hadn't just cum in your pants after all that. She smiled and held your face then kissed you passionately, your tongues rolling together.

While kissing, she pushed you back down and laid on top of you. Her hands caressed your body while sliding down to unbutton your pants and finally free your cock, the shaft immediately standing up and poking her ass. She chuckled then released the kiss before going down to kiss your neck and chest, planting several kisses and bites everywhere. She licked down your belly and reached your abdomen then sat up as she was face-to-face with your cock.

"Hmm, how should I pay you for your services now? Perhaps something equal in return?~"

You didn't care what she did, you were just desperate to cum now. Her hand wrapped around your shaft and started pumping it slowly, she watched more pre-cum gather on the tip and the way it throbbed when finally given attention. It was cute just like you, and your reactions were even cuter as she kept pumping it. She then placed a kiss on the tip and proceeded to kiss all over the length and between the sac. Your body shuddered at her ministrations, even the minimal stimulation to your dick was too much now.

"P-Please.... I can't hold on more! I need to—!~"

"Just cum then, nobody is stopping you~"

She whispered against your dick, her voice sending vibrations in you and you burst out. Your cum spilled all over her hand, some drops even staining your stomach and thighs. You breathed out hard as you calmed down, your mind being fuzzy from the orgasm. Jade half expected you to go down for a while now but as she would have wanted, you became hard again rather quickly. It was obviously due to her presence, she knew you won't leave her just like this. She licked off your cum from her hand then faced your cock again.

You had barely pulled yourself together when you gasped out as Jade licked a long strip from your sac to the tip, caressing a prominent vein. Gratifying sensations surged through you, her tongue kept licking in a similar manner until your entire cock was lubricated by her. Then without any signal, she wrapped her lips around your tip and swallowed it. Your eyes blew open in pleasure, your hips almost bucking up but you held back.

Jade tucked her hair behind her ear as she continued mouthing your cock, her tongue swirling over the tip as she slowly pushed down. Your length and girth was clearly above average, she was glad to have picked you. She hummed as she took you in further and her tongue kept licking all over before she finally hit the base, your cock nestled deep in her mouth. Hot breaths and vibrations hit your cock, the feeling of her mouth was simply heavely.

You watched as she sucked your cock, then suddenly she looked up and your eyes met. You could feel her smirking as her eyes narrowed just then; oh, she was going to milk you dry, wasn't she? You clenched the sheet and braced yourself. Then, it hit you like a flood. She started bobbing her head up and down your length while sucking the tip and swirling her tongue around- everything at the same time. And, as if that wasn't enough, she also stroked your sac at the same time.

Your mind plunged in unbelievable pleasure, you didn't know anything like this was possible. Jade pushed herself down to the hilt, so much so that she almost touched your crotch. Your cock was deep inside her throat at this point, and she was handling it flawlessly. She hollowed her cheeks as she sucked on the head, sounds of intense sucking and slurping echoing in your ears. She was way better than you anticipated.

"Aaah! J-Jade you are doing it t-too much! I can barely—! Oh fuck!~"

You moaned out, your mind becoming more hazy as she continued. She didn't stop even for a second, merely humming something incoherent. Your eyes rolled to your skull as you approached your release again, and just then she finally pulled off with a pop.

"Haah.... I may be a little rusty but my skills remain.... You haven't even seen the real deal yet, sweetheart~"

"I...don't think I'd be able to survive you in your prim— ohhh fuck!~"

You had barely gotten a few words out when she swallowed your cock once again. She slurped and sucked on the tip faster now, feeling the way it throbbed inside her throat and knowing you were close.

"Jade.... I'm going to....t-there's a lot!~"

You expected her to pull off but she instead stayed and kept your cock inside her throat as you finally released once again. Hot and thick strings of cum went down her throat and she didn't waste a single drop as she drank every bit, even licking off the remains from your shaft and cleaning it. She did exactly what you did for her, an equal price as promised. She pulled back with a sigh of pleasure, licking her lips to clean any residual cum. You could do nothing but gaze at her, feeling even more aroused just seeing her.

"Mm, delicious and thick.... Clearly, you have a lot of potential~"

You sat up while catching your breath, "Is this.... is this satisfactory for you?"

Jade raised an eyebrow, "So soon? Don't tell me you are already tired, I was told you have quite a lot of stamina~"

"No, I'm okay. It's just.... w-well, do you really want to continue beyond this?"

She seemed to understand what you meant, it wasn't surprising to her that you'd think to stop now since both of you weren't lovers. She smiled to herself then grasped the leash on your collar again and pulled closer, making you fall on her that your face was buried in her breasts.

"Very considerate of you, but you should save such considerations for others." Her hand caressed the back of your head soothingly as she spoke, a feeling of comfort arising in your body.

"I just want to make sure you are okay with this...."

She smiled more then pulled up your face by your chin and pecked your lips, "If I wasn't, then you wouldn't still be here. But what about you? I told you that you can consider this as your first time, I don't think stopping here will be fair~"

"I don't really care about that.... It's up to you, whatever you want I will do it."

She smirked then gripped your shoulders and pushed you back with enough force that you were laying on the bed once again. You winced and before you could react, she climbed on top of you again and straddled you with her core placed directly on your softened dick.

"Then we will continue. I'm still not satisfied and...." she paused and leaned down near your face, "....Neither are you~"

She started grinding on your softened shaft to make it erect, her dripping folds creating just the right amount of friction for you both. You groaned and in just a few moments became hard again as per her liking. She licked her lips then positioned your dick to her core as she stood up on her knees and started dropping down slowly, you felt your tip part her folds as she sunk and already felt overwhelmed by the tight and slippery feeling.

"There's no backing out now, not for me....." she announced then sunk on your length with a single push, taking you all the way in, "....Or for you~"

Your eyes blew open at the sensations of her warm and spongy walls enveloping your shaft, while she still remained fairly composed despite feeling quite stuffed. She found you rather cute as she rose to her knees again then pushed your cock inside at an agonizing pace. Jade fucked herself on your erection leisurely with the same sweet smile that had fooled you earlier, and had you not been inside of her, you'd have never guessed how thoroughly dripping she was. But the slow movements were short lived as she increased her pace soon and was bouncing on your cock wildly. She squeezed around you as she ground her hips forward, grinding on your length and feeling the friction rub inside her.

"Oh.... y-you are good.... Aaah this is what I wanted....mmh!~"

She moaned and continued riding you with the same speed and force. It was her stamina, vigor and the fact that she was capable of becoming this way that surprised you way more. Her hips bounced with a fervent need, sounds of skin slapping and moans of pleasure flying off the walls and filing your ears. You then placed your hands around her waist and helped her thrust by pulling her up and down in sync with her own movements. Jade smirked then held onto the leash connected to your collar and pulled you to sit up before wrapping her arms around your neck and kissing you.

"T-This is your desire.... aaahn.... your deep hidden desire and your reason to approach me~"

You didn't want to believe her but you could see it being true, it was no wonder you didn't know it yourself. But now that the cat was out of the bag, you also didn't want to hold back anymore. You held her hips and stopped her for a second then thrusted up into her all of a sudden, earning a sultry gasp from her and her head falling on your shoulder. She resumed bouncing on your cock while you also thrusted up and made a perfect rhythm of your bodies. Her sickly sweet voice moaned in your ear, her hands clenched your back with her nails scratching down your skin. You hissed as she clawed you but that only made you fuck her faster and harder.

"I-I'm close— ngh!~" you groaned.

"Inside.... come on.... show me what you got, Trailblazer!~"

"Is it.... hngh.... r-really okay....?!"

"Of course.... aaahn! I wouldn't have let you done it unprotected otherwise!~"

You wrapped your arms around her waist and pulled her even closer than before, embracing her tightly and burying your face in her neck as you made your final thrusts before stopping. You buried yourself deeply as you came, thick ropes of cum filling her up. She bit down on your shoulder as you came inside her before planting kisses all over it up to your face. You panted out while holding her, still wrapped around each other like a pair of lovers. Jade hummed as she felt your cum fill her then drip out, the pleasurable feeling sending vibrations into her.

Then, something unexpected happened that she didn't see coming. You placed her on the bed right after with your dick still inside, her silky hair splayed as her back hit the mattress while you kept her legs around your waist and sat up slightly to position yourself properly. You adjusted your cock and pushed inside her again before stopping at the hilt as you gazed up at her, breaths uneven and sweat dripping down your forehead. She could see it in your eyes what you were going to do, and she had no reason to refuse.

You pulled out your shaft slowly until only the tip remained inside then thrusted forward hard, her body arching up from the force. You followed the same movement for a while, fucking into her slow and hard as if moulding her insides to the shape of your cock. But you knew this wasn't enough for her, and you were surprised she didn't tell you to go faster already. Perhaps she was enjoying the slow pace for now, feeling an unknown emotion swell up inside her. You didn't know what kind of experiences she had before, but maybe she had never been fucked like a lover.

She gazed at the sight of you above her, the focused look on your face as you drove yourself in and out to bring her to release. It was strangely comforting, the way you moved inside in all the right ways. But she was done with this feeling now. She held the leash and pulled you down but this time you stopped mid way by placing your hands on either side of her body, but the action made you go deeper inside her and a guttural moan to escape her throat. It was unlike any sound you heard from her before; oh, how you wanted to hear it more.

You crawled closer and placed her legs on your shoulders before driving in and out at a fast and harsh pace. Her body bounced off with every thrust, her thighs jiggling as you slammed forward and her breasts bouncing frantically. She moaned incoherently, letting herself be taken by you for this moment. The one and only Madam Jade gave herself to you fully and expected you to perform. You bucked into her and watched her eyes light up with sheer warmth as you quickly kissed behind her leg, the look on her face empowering you to thrust into her deepest crevice and watch as her face slackened with the pleasure.

"Mmm yes.... yes! Come on, is that all you got!? Show me your desire!~"

She pulled on the leash again and you ended up pressing her legs close to her chest in a mating press position, the angle making your cock go the deepest possible. Her hands roamed to grab your body, her legs locking around your waist and holding you in a tight hug. She initiated an open mouth kiss, your tongues messily mingling together before you pulled back to pound into her. The bed creaked with your frantic pace, your cock drilling at an animalistic pace and making her see stars.

She felt your cock throb inside and knew you were close again, she wasn't far behind either. You placed your finger on her clit at the last moment and started rubbing and pinching it, her body arching up in your embrace as pleasure shot through her from the sensation of her clit being touched. You knew she was very close now with the way her walls clenched around you, an iron like grip which made you groan deeply as you fought with all your strength to keep thrusting and fuck her through her orgasm.

It hit her like an electrifying surge, a dam broken as she came intensely with your cock still buried inside. The feeling of her cum on you made you instantly release as well, your hips bucking forward to press yourself to the hilt and shoot it all inside her. Your cum mixed together while you fell forward on her, her arms quickly wrapping around to hold you while you panted. She kissed your forehead and caressed your hair while smiling to herself.

"Well done. See, I told you there must be something you wanted from me, and it seems our desires aligned for tonight~"

You looked up at her with hooded eyes then suddenly went forward and kissed her, it caught her off guard but she reciprocated and kissed back with equal passion. You then laid beside her with your face close to her neck, cradling into her like a body as exhaustion took over you. She pampered you in return, kissing all over your face then hugging you after pulling the blanket over you both. She didn’t know what came over her that she let you be in control, but she wasn’t really against it because of the way you responded. She watched as you closed your eyes, her hand patting your head in soothing motions.

“Just... give me a moment.... I’ll be ready to go again....” you mumbled, making her chuckle in return.

“I think it’s enough for tonight. While I am eager to drain you, I don’t want it to be tonight. For now, you have satisfied me enough and paid me back in full with interest. I will wait for the next time we meet and hopefully have a deal~”

You nodded with a smile then she laid near you and closed her eyes as well, both of drifting to sleep while holding each other. The next morning hit you with a throbbing headache as your body was still recovering and your muscles barely able to move, you sat up on the bed and looked around before your sight was overtaken by your partner’s face as she sat up beside you as well, both of you still naked. The sight of her in the morning was marvellous, her silky pink hair scattered while her skin glistened, her breasts barely covered by the sheets.

“Good morning, had a nice sleep?~” she asked while cupping your face.

“Yes, are you okay? Should I help with something?”

Jade smiled, “I’m fine. That is not enough to break me, but perhaps next time you will come close~”

Your mind muddled at her words, was there really going to be a next time?

“Next time.... you say that as if you are really sure we’ll meet again.”

“Hm, I am quite sure. Our paths are bound to cross again.”

“Will we.... really have the same relation then?

“That is up to you. What we had last night was personal, something outside of the IPC’s eyes. I cannot say I get chances like this often.”

You looked down in distress, “So.... we can’t date? You know, like a proper relationship....”

Jade’s eyes almost widened in shock but she held back that expression and instead smiled.

“That is not what you desire, Y/n. I know it. There is someone else that’s in your heart, the one who truly occupies it.”

You looked at her in surprised then averted your gaze, “I.... I don’t know. My desires can change, right? At this moment, I want you- mmph!~”

She kissed you before you could continue, essentially shutting you up.

“I appreciate your feelings, but no. This cannot become anything more. You and I may meet again but we are still on separate paths. I don’t mind doing this again when we meet, but you must know it can never be anything more.”

You couldn’t refute her in any manner; you knew no matter how much you said otherwise, she was right.

“Alright, I understand....”

Jade looked at the sad expression on your face, a strangely similar feeling bubbling up inside her as well but she brushed it off.

“Now now, don’t show me that face. Come here~” She pulled you into her embrace, keeping your head close to her chest. She held you that way for a while then let go after kissing your cheek.

“Ah, that reminds me. There is one other thing you want, right?~”

“What...?”

You didn’t know what she was referring to but you soon found out as she brought out her phone and opened the camera app before holding it up in a selfie position.

“Smile now, you are so cute when you smile~”

You blushed at her words then smiled while looking into the camera, she put her arm around you and pulled you close making your cheeks touch as she finally clicked a few photos. You were looking through the photos with a smile while she gazed at you and pondered over certain things, she couldn’t describe what feelings she had when being with you. But one thing was clear, you now belonged to her. You handed back the phone to her and she suddenly made you turn around to face your back to her. She summoned her lipstick in hand then came forward to write something on your back with it. You blushed feeling the cosmetic write on your body, you were aware she signed all documents this way but you didn’t know what she wrote on you.

“There we go, the contract is complete~” she mused once she finished writing.

“Contract? What did you write?” you tried to look behind but couldn’t see at all.

Jade chuckled, “You’ll find out~”

You parted ways with her after taking a shower and getting ready together. You were back at the Astral Express where you had to explain lot of things to your companions but were able to make them understand with a few excuses. You went back to your room and immediately took off your shirt then stood in front of the mirror to look at what she wrote but still couldn’t see it properly by turning over. You then resorted to clicking a picture of your back in the mirror and were finally able to see what she wrote:

‘Mine- Eve~’

The dot on the ‘i’ was made with a heart, and the name Eve was written as a signature just below the word. The signature was very similar to Jade’s official signature, and you realized rather soon what this meant. You became flustered right away, but at the same time felt closer to her after finding out such a personal thing about her. And of course, the fact that she considered you hers. You were looking forward to meet her again. Perhaps you’d prove her wrong next time and have a change of desire.

[arminsumi]

🔞 playtime w enemy!gojo

g. satoru — さとる

NOTE: i think abt this idea all the time n i just thought id gift u all a piece of mean nasty enemy gojo lusting for u

WARNINGS — ignore errors pls, smut, he's mean he's a jerk but he kinda feels for u, blood mentions, fighting, m*sturbation, he jerkin it to a pic he snapped of ur defeated face 🫠 sexual tension, impact play (slapping n spanking), dirty talk, namecalling (sl*t, wh*re, b*tch, freak) and nicknames (bunny, sweetheart, baby), dirty talk, unprotected sex, taboo sex (fucking ur enemy) creampie, it's nasty im ngl, god kink thing??? he rlly cums n goes 🧍‍♀️, hairpulling

just... just enemy!gojo...

enemy!gojo kissing you like he's trying to kill you. you can feel this murderous rage on his lips after you fuck up his heroic plans.

and enemy!gojo fighting you like he's trying to get in your pants 🥴 he hates you so much, but let's be real he's in fucking denial and needs you so bad. after fights, he's cooped up in his bedroom jerking off to the memory of all those positions he put you in. ("ooh, well aren't you flexible?" he teases when he literally puts you into a full-nelson. "hey, if this whole villain business fails for you then you can be my personal pornstar.")

his whole body feels like it's on fire when you're throwing fists with him. he shakes not from exhaustion or pain but just pure sexual desire. he gets so upclose and personal with you, you're sure it's on purpose. when you're limp and defeated, he takes a victory picture :( grabs your jaw and says "smile for the camera! aw, pretty lil' loser. you're so photogenic!" and you know when he gets home, he's gonna jerk off to that.

he can barely take your martial arts seriously, because you're so fucking tiny and weak in comparison to him. enemy!gojo likes to remind you of that, when he has you on your knees with your nose dribbling blood.

"aw, sweetheart, you're so fucking weak it's kinda turning me on."

he's got a fistfull of your hair, forcing your head to tilt back so violently yet when you look up at him, you can't help but feel this raw sexual tension and primal need to kiss him and worship him.

"f—fuck you, gojo — y-you're a freak. you think you're god... but you're a monstrous freak."

he's looking at you. and you're not sure if that's a murderous look or a pure lustful look — is he gonna kill you or fuck you? in his mind, though, the idea of killing you long faded away; you're his favorite enemy. what would he do without you? fighting with you is just the best, he gets to joke and tease and flirt and pester you and see you enjoying it wholeheartedly.

"bunny, look how cute you are, bleeding for me."

when you try spit your blood at him to retaliate, he's considering pulling his zipper down and stuffing your stupid mouth full of his cock. now that would put him on a power trip like nothing else.

then imagine the day this needy, desperate man actually snaps. and you snap. and the both of you fuck like bunnies. panting and feral. he couldn't say no when you started begging on your bruised knees for him to just fuck you already, just split you open on his cock.

his thrusts are primal. he's mocking you, voice so venemously attractive.

"wh—what would your friends think now, huh? think they'd still trust you knowing how willingly you spread your fuckin' legs for me? you damn slut. 'seen the way you look at me, gets me hot every time. you don't have any fucking idea what you do to me, do you? ha—ahhh that's so good... that's so fucking good..." his voice is usually so composed even when fighting, but when he's balls deep fucking up your guts so passionately then his voice becomes strained.

and he loves hearing your cute dirty talk, but you've got such a small voice he thinks it's cutely pathetic.

"f-fuck, g-g—gooojo ~ ! fuck me like you hate me."

he chuckles, "oh, baby. i don't have to fake it. i hate you so — fucking — much — ahhh — damn bitch, making my life so hard the least y-you could do is let me have this pussy once a week."

"a-anything for you."

his heart flutters. why? you're his enemy he reminds himself and makes his thrusts meaner and harder until you can't form a coherent thought. he relishes in your screaming moans, and there's no end to the teasing. as soon as he notices something he comments on it.

"ooh, look at that little pussy cream for me. who's it creaming for? who? that's fucking right, me. yeah stay like that and take my cock."

"o—h my god, nnn ~ !" you squeal, feeling almost too good with your threatening orgasm.

"ah-ah, there's no god but me, baby. i'm the one making this pussy freak out. ooh... think you're right, i do have a god complex. why don't you indulge in it? yeah? c'mon, baby i'm your god."

"y—you're m-my g–god, satoruuuh ~ ! ow!"

he plants a hard slap to your face. you're no stranger to his mean slaps, in fact you've joked to yourself about being his favorite bitch to slap. but that one in particular hurt, and you loved it.

"don't say my fucking name like we're friends, you freak. f—fuck... you like that, don't you? yeah? little freaky bitch likes getting slapped? mmm that's cute. kinky litttle fucking whore, let's see how hard this pathetic pussy can cum."

he pumps his cock into you at such a mean angle that you completely lose yourself, babbling obscenities and trembling in his strong hold. you couldn't free yourself from his grip even if you wanted to; he's the strongest, after all.

you get a good idea of how strong he is when you fight and sneak off to fuck.

the way he presses down on your back, the way he bullies his cockhead so deep that it feels like he's in your tummy, the way he pulls both your arms back with a rough tug like you're a ragdoll — just his fleshlight that he can move on his cock himself however he likes because he's so much bigger than you.

"gonna cum, my little slut gonna take it? yeah? good. that's what i like to fucking hear — oh fuck — ahhhah cumming — hah fuck that's good — that's — mmm — that's my fuckin' girl."

he plants rough spanks to your ass, groaning so deeply and holding you so close against his body that you feel like you're one with him.

"ooh, fuck..." he pulls out hastily, zipping himself up. forehead and abs beading with sweat. "thanks, love playtime with you. now get the fuck out of my sight." he sounds so sweet and venomous that you can't tell if he's joking, but then you remember a cold hard fact;

gojo satoru is your enemy.

[ireallydontknowohcrabs]

Brian Moser NSFW ALPHABET˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

long overdue, I hope u guys enjoy!

MINORS DNI 18+ content! Themes of knifeplay, amputation, uhhh average brian moser freakiness!!

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Brian would most definitely pet your head and play with your hair in bed, we’ve seen in the show sooo!

B = Body part (their favorite body part of  theirs and also their partner’s) HIS ARMSSS, you cannot tell me he wouldn’t enjoy putting his partner in a chokehold during sex. As for his partner, he has a thing for collarbones and breasts.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) If you did something upset earlier, he’ll likely cum on your face or on your collarbones.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) As much as Brian cares about you, I feel like he would fantasize about amputating you. He adores being needed so if you were to get into a terrible accident where you’re immobilized, he would pop a boner if you needed help bathing or changing.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Brian has had sex with multiple women, safe to say he knows what he’s doing

F=Favorite position (this goes without saying) Missionary, against the wall, and any position where he has control.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) He’s more serious but if the situation calls for it he’ll joke around a bit, just to lighten the mood.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Neatly trimmed, clean.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment?  the romantic aspect) He’s very passionate, He’ll pepper kisses all around your body and worship you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) If you aren’t together yet, he’d break into your bedroom and jack off to the scent of your panties and take photos of you in compromising positions. ( this man is a FREAK)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Choking, amputation, dacryphillia, vulnerability, fear play, bondage, and a lot of body worship. He takes his sweet time dragging knifes across your body while you’re tied up, helpless and vulnerable. He also goes crazy for your pained whimpers and cries that come out when he over stimulates you. I could go on and on about his kinks and fantasies.

L=Location (favorite places to do the do) His apartment, and in a dark, well hidden alleyway. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) He’ll get an erection on the spot if you start begging for him. Bonus points if you’re injured or you start crying.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Nothing that involves him losing all of the control. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Excellent at eating pussy. He prefers receiving though.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) He enjoys slow and sensual but if he’s riled up he’ll go fast and rough. Big fan of manhandling. Also a fan of taking care of you and being gentle. Both are pleasurable for him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) He does them a lot in his office. They’re fun.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) He’s down for anything really.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) Brian lasts several rounds. He has a lot of stamina.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) If you count tying ribbon, knifes, and gags as toys then yes!!!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) HUGE TEASE. He finds it amusing.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Brian will let out a few grunts and moans here in there, but he usually pants.

W=Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) If hes just finished a kill he’s going to be really horny so prepare to fuck in his freezer while his apron is covered in blood. He’ll push off whatever’s occupying space to make room for your body.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) He’s canonically big, so I can see it being lengthy with a thick base. Slightly curved upwards, with the tip being a light pink.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) He can go for several rounds, and even longer if it involves one of his favorite kinks. (*cough* *cough* begging and knifeplay)

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Even after you fall asleep, Brians going to spend some time admiring your resting face before he finally rests.

[amourcheol]

paris

❝You and Jeonghan, jazz-filled corners, hidden history, and the city of love.❞

old hollywood! au | exes to lovers! au | angst, fluff, smut | 50k words

s u m m a r y : disgraced by hollywood for the last time, you, a once superstar-turned-alcoholic, escape to the city of love to seek sanctuary from the ruthless tabloids. your sanctuary comes in the form of film noir superstar yoon jeonghan, the enigmatic man who taught you the art of acting, lust and love before your fame. when he asks to meet you once, just like old times, you cannot refuse. what is meant to be a simple date turns into a path of passion, pain and everything that comes with fooling around with your ex in the jazz-filled corners of paris. 

c o n t e n t s : actor! mc, actor! jeonghan, mc is bitter and makes bad decisions, agent! seungkwan who is tired of fixing them, jeonghan is the suavest, sultriest mf, mentions of parisian landmarks in this fic during the golden hollywood era, also a bit of french peppered throughout, greek mythology art references, tons of fluff which is also layered with angst, quite hurt-comfort mature warnings -> alcohol consumption and abuse, smoking, this is basically sexual tension with plot, making out, oral sex (f. receiving) unprotected sex (refer point to bad decisions), multiple orgasms, jeonghan worships mc fr, praises galore, slightly angsty love-making, basically this is going to be an emotional rollercoaster 

p l a y l i s t : here!

t a g l i s t : at the bottom of the fic

a u t h o r ’ s  n o t e : she is here...finally...longer author’s note at the bottom of the fic but RIP to y’alls tumblr on mobile </3 thank you for reading and thank you ysl jeonghan you will always be the most iconic mf on the planet !! anyways enjoy <33

THE LOS ANGELES MIRROR, 28TH SEPTEMBER, 1954

_____ SEEN FOR THE FIRST TIME AFTER FOX SCANDAL AT LAX!

Scandalised Princess of Hollywood was finally spotted after a week, hurrying into Los Angeles International Airport in the early hours of the morning!

The last time we reported on her was to announce Fox Productions terminating her contract after having a vicious altercation with her movie director and producer. As if showing up on set drunk and high out of your mind is not enough, but lashing your tongue out at the big boys? Our Princess has exceeded too many limits within her Kingdom, and is now running away like a traitor! 

We bring exclusive photos of her interacting with our reporters just before airport security stopped us—though, judging by the expression on her face, and the message on her hand, she may not be too pleased to see us…

We wonder, readers, where she plans to run away. Some sources say that she may look for sanctuary in New York, but there is a likelihood that she may be crossing the Atlantic! Our colleagues in London and Paris anticipate her arrival, but who knows? Maybe our disgraced actress has places even the most shrewd of our reporters cannot find.

Worry not, though, readers! We will bring more news should she be brave enough to show herself in public again!

In the meantime, read on to see which famous superstar has just landed in Paris for his world-class premier…!

YOU ALWAYS WONDERED WHETHER ONE COULD SLEEP FOREVER.

Not die—death was too serious. Death meant going somewhere else, confronting your entire life within seconds. Death was excruciating, death was isolation, death was the end.

But sleep? Sleep could be forever, but it was temporary. You knew that if you slept, you would always wake up. No matter what happened to you the night before, your eyes would open to the morning light breaking through your curtained-windows. 

This time, you wished you did not see such light.

The morning sunshine glared through the heavy lids of your eyes, using all its strength to try and snap open your eyes. You remained stubborn, turning away from the window. Your fingertips lazily held a curved glass, not quite sure what it contained.

Red wine. From last night.

Red wine, which had no doubt stained your bedsheets. 

You let out a low, sluggish curse, holding onto your dirty champagne glass. Yes, sleep could be forever, and it was precisely that fact which made you wish you were slumbering once more.

However, exterior forces always found a way to sneak past your already weak defences. 

Exterior forces like the beginning of the new day, refusing to let you stay in the refuge of the night. Exterior factors like the damning thoughts of your mind, reminding you of how disastrously you could have messed up the night before.

Exterior forces like a jug-full of ice cold water thrown at your face. 

The moment the water hit your face you let out a shocked screech, flinching all over as you snapped open your eyes. A high-pitched fuck! flew from your mouth as you sat up, creasing at the soreness of your muscles, still reeling from the few-hours sleep you managed to salvage. The moment you gained consciousness the worst possible headache tormented you, and you had to hold your head in your hands, groaning at the cold tingling your skin. Of course, your hangover would come crashing now, numbing your brain.

“Be thankful I did not fill up the entire jug,” was the icy snarl you were greeted with.

You groaned at the voice, slowly turning your head to face the man who was hell-bent on murdering you. “One day, Seungkwan,” you rasped out, coughing immediately afterwards, “Someone is going to punch you in the face, and I will watch and laugh at you.” 

He towered over your crumbling figure as he stood at the edge of your bed. “Why stop at punching me? I wish someone would put a gun to my head and blast my brains out!” He brought his hands to his hips, holding a folded newspaper. “At least then I won’t have to witness your daily screw-ups!”

“What are you talking about?” you mumbled, blinking back to clear your hazy vision. When you craned your head back, your agent’s glare had you recoiling. “God, don’t do that to your face…not a good look on you.”

The glare soured even more. “Be angry? Go to Hell, ______! I have every right to be angry at you!” 

“What have I done this time?”

“Only gone and left this goddamn room, drunk enough to be jailed for indecency!” He closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if reliving a rather painful memory. “One of the receptionists off duty brought you back here and reported it to me! 

“Oh…I see.”

“That is it? Just an I see? My God, I should be paid more for this!” He pointed to the entrance. “You know the receptionist was about to report you for indecent behaviour! I had to shut her up with a couple hundred dollars! Do you know how much that is in francs?” 

You were about to guess a wildly wrong answer. 

“That was a rhetorical question!” He crowed. “I doubt you would have known the answer anyway, seeing as you enjoy spending these francs more than taking them into account!”

“Whatever,” you muttered, raising your knees so you could hug your legs. “What is done is done.”

“Don’t whatever me,” he snapped, slapping the newspaper he held down on the bedside table. “You do nothing but get drunk—” A pointed finger towards the empty glass— “Waste yourself away in your room, and when you somehow have the will to try and do your job, you always do something to screw it up! You need to just—ugh!” He stopped himself, looking away as he swept a hand through his hair, blazer rising. 

You knew he wanted to go on—you knew he was stopping himself, if only to save the scraps of dignity that still resided within you. You looked at the empty bottles scattered in your room, along with the tabloids, pages open to the columns which wrote about you from weeks ago.

“Did you get an answer for the chemistry read?” 

Seungkwan seemed to have an infinite amount of glowers in his arsenal. “Do not get me started on your fucking chemistry read.”

Your confusion had him breathing through his nose. “They said to me, and I quote, ‘Don’t ever let her inside the audition house again’.”

You had the nerve to chuckle. 

“Laugh at your failure one more time, and I’ll throw water at you again.”

That killed off any amusement.

Your dear agent, and apparent dearer friend sighed. “Get your act together, _____,” he said, crossing your arms as he turned on his heel, navigating through the rubbish you had compiled in your room. “Goodness sake, _____, this is a five star hotel! Could you treat it as such?! If those damned reporters saw the state of your room…” he shuddered. “The poor housekeeping staff…”

“Don’t you start judging me,” you sneered. “I have enough of it from the press.”

Seungkwan pursed his lips. “You are fortunate that the press have not seen you once here. God forbid some late-night reporter saw you stumbling in the Ritz halls instead…they would have eaten you alive.”

You furrowed your brows. 

The two of you knew that the media would have released something horrendous about you, regardless of whether you were drunk and disorderly, or sober and charismatic. You were not fortunate to have avoided them—you were skillful. You would have died than catch yourself in front of the cameras in this city.

Even if you nearly caused a blunder yesterday.

“Whatever,” Seungkwan began, glancing at his watch.

“Oh, so you can say ‘whatever’ to me, but I am not allowed?”

A scathing look. 

“I can, dear _____, because I do not have consequences to bear, since I do not commit such stupid actions. You are wasting away in a five-star hotel you cannot afford, you are butchering auditions you need to resume your career, and you are drinking and rotting in your room when you should be finding a way to climb out of this scandal!” 

When he saw your stunned expression, he let out a harsh breath. “Or maybe you can throw me a goddamn bone, and actually try to help yourself! God knows I am trying to get you out of the mess you have created.” 

Well—suppose he could not stop himself.

The silence that followed his declarations had you shifting uncomfortably on your bed. When you continued to avert his gaze, he shook his head, realising that you will not do a thing about your problems. 

You hated when he did that—as if you were solely responsible for your downfall.

“Right.” He dusted at his blazer, looking to the door. “I have a few calls to make before I go to the Louvre this evening.”

That had your brow raising. “The Louvre? That is a bit random, no?”

“Well, if you have dragged me to this god-awful city, then I suppose I better explore it.” When you opened your mouth, he cut you off, “And no, you cannot come with me.” He raised his finger to quieten you once again. “No, no! I refuse to have a dozen reporters following after me every time I look at an old stone.”

You gaped at him in disbelief. “So you’re just…leaving me here?!”

His saccharine smile hit a nerve. “You and I both know I am not leaving you here…you seem to stay here just fine on your own!”

You scowled. “I hope the press catches you in the Louvre.”

“I will be sure to send them your way, then!”

He earned a harsh groan from you, gesturing towards the entrance. “Get out, Seungkwan!” 

“With pleasure,” he simpered, making his way to the door. “Do not forget the readings for next week!” 

“Whatever!”

His eyes never left yours, souring with your reply as he twisted the doorknob, opening the entrance. “Whatever to you too!” 

And he was out of the door before you could curse him outright. 

When you were sure he would not bother you again, you quickly grabbed the half-empty bottle of wine, unscrewing the cap. 

With no regrets you indulged in the alcohol, hoping it would soothe your hangover even if you knew acutely well that it never did.

So what if Seungkwan did not wish to enjoy the museum with you? To Hell with him—you can admire the art quite perfectly by yourself. 

But to go outside…

That was the one great difficulty.

You sneaked a glance at the window, grimacing at the sun brightly shining on its Parisian subjects. 

Your agent was right—you were fortunate to avoid the press this far.

The last time they caught you was in LA, and once again, there was something positive at play when they could not figure out the destination of your flight. It had been more than a couple of weeks staying in the Ritz, and still, you had managed to evade them at every corner in the central parts of the city. Though you would never admit this to him, staying at the five-star hotel was not the smartest decision, with its luxury and grandeur and horrendous fees, but you could not help yourself—you needed to feel like a famous actress.

You needed to feel like a star once more.

Of course, those days were becoming more like distant memories. 

Seething, you finished your bottle, slapping it atop the bedside table.

Heaving from your bed, you trudged to your window, swiping the curtains to a close. 

Because of your actions, you could not go outside in the daytime. Yes, you may be safe now, but that wish to roam freely under the sun without the prying eyes of others—it was impossible. If the journalists ever caught you in Paris, you knew that you would not be able to garner the raging, resentful attitude you had back home. This time, you would crumble under the camera flashes, the constant shouting, and be forever the actress that was blacklisted by one of the biggest production companies in Hollywood.

You could have forgiven the press for ruining Los Angeles for you.

You could never excuse them for trying to ruin Paris.

So, with your eyes heavy-lidded and your heart incredibly bitter, you thundered to a certain spot under your bed, bringing out another bottle of wine. 

With your prospects at an all-time low, you unscrewed the cap and continued your journey to intoxication.

THE LOUVRE WAS ALWAYS MORE BEAUTIFUL IN THE NIGHT.

You had never noticed it before, but with half the lights dimmed, no sneaking eyes to prey on your every move—the vast museum had become a safe-haven to your sluggish movements.

Perhaps the guards should have noticed a drunk, failing actress and stopped her in her routes, but none batted an eye as you sauntered in from one of the less popular entrances. Of course, you feigned your best nonchalant, sober appearance, and it seemed to have worked a charm. 

At least your acting talents had not vanished with your fame.

You were hit with the vast collections at the very beginning, artworks and objects from all corners of the world. With every step there was another artifact—broken stone aged from the 2nd century BC, a medieval portrait of some foreign king, carpets embroidered in the age of the Ottomans. 

You did not care for these specific wonders.

No, you walked on, a slight determination in your step as you walked past the earlier Egyptian wonders, the Greek and Roman antiquities as you turned a right, finding yourself in the more modern sections. Even so, paintings had never fascinated you as much as other mediums. Paintings, you found, could be celebrated regardless of the amount of work one applied onto the image. Whether it was Renaissance masterwork, or simple rebellious lines of paint over an empty canvas, both could be deemed masterpieces.

What was undisputed, though, was the sheer talent of the sculptors.

Your eyes gazed over the vast, open room. 

Ah!

The marble columns were in their dozens, etched to the sides of the hall as they arched over onto the ceiling. Underneath them scattered an abundance of white sculptures—scenes from mythology, depictions of Roman generals or early modern emperors were settled together, as if they were all linked by the marble from which they were birthed. 

You could not help taking the hasty steps forward, admiring the citizens of marble. You admitted that you did not like art much, but these people before you were something else entirely. They were full of life, given the breath of the human soul, yet were completely lifeless. They looked exactly like you, had limbs like yours, exposed happiness, grief, anger identical to you, but they were frozen, as if paused in their ministrations.

They were the only bodies that could not judge you. 

Closing up on a closer sculpture, admiring the physique of the Greek god, your sight further wandered, trying to find a particular piece that you used to admire many years ago. You distinctly remembered the piece depicting gods too, male and female—you could not recall their names, but the first time you had witnessed such a work, you had been completely shaken. You bit your lip, trying to recollect its location.

You knew it had to be in this room. 

The specific sculpture, which you had seen in the very height of your fame—the very centre of your happiness. 

Steps quickening a little, you focused on each carved figure—no, no, no, you repeated in your mind, the memories stagnant. However, you were certain that the piece had been here the last time you had entered the museum.

The man who was with you that time made sure you witnessed such a sculpture. 

A smile as ghost-like as the memory etched onto your lips. 

Your gaze scoured the room, catching the far-right corner, right next to the hall entrance.

There. 

The sculpture was supposed to be there.

But the work of art was not present.

No—instead of two lifeless figures, there was a living being standing in its place.

You blinked.

The figure’s back was to you—clad in black, your stare struggling to distinguish the details. Fully silhouetted from you, you decided to take a step forward, your heeled-boots making much too loud a noise.

The phantom turned around.

You felt the world sway beneath you.

That was a face you could recognise in any corner of the world—forget the old walls of this gallery. 

It was the man of your memories.

Memories of a long time ago, too long ago, when you were young and wild and free and alive. Your hallucinations had outdone themselves this time, with the way they portrayed the figure of your past. He looked just as he had done the last time you had stepped in this gallery—half of his midnight hair swept under a beret of the same colour, burgundy trench-coat half buttoned, tied at the front. His face was blurry still, but you could not mistake his dark eyes. 

Dark, intense, mystical eyes that were rooted to you.

Perhaps this was delirium—consequences of the alcohol, repercussions of dreaming up times of your past which did not bring great despair. This man before you, not ten feet from you, was not real. He was simply a figment of your imagination, because a man like that did not exist in the spheres of your existence.

Not anymore. 

Shaking your head, you took a step forward.

The apparition took a step backward.

Ah. You smiled. Staying away from you. As ghosts always do.

With great hesitancy, you continued, walking ever so slowly towards the vision.

The vision, in turn, took the exact amount of steps opposite from you. 

Continuing this strange game, you lead the apparition back into the maze of sculptures. So bizarre, the way he perfectly circled each piece, as if he was aware of every marble-figure that rested in the room. One step forward, one step back—one heel of yours that progressed, one boot of his that receded. 

The longer this went on, the quicker your pace became, the quicker he matched it. It almost became a fool’s errand, swirling around the marble spectators as they watched your fruitless flight with melancholy stares. You scowled as you saw the only moving eyes dancing underneath the limited moonlight.

Your visions of madness were beginning to aggravate you.

Soon, you were back in the place that the fated sculpture was supposed to be, the exit behind you. The vision stood amidst the floods of sculptures, you refusing to accept who was teasing the chase. 

You had had enough. 

With one last look at the dream-like illusion, you turned to exit, run out from the gallery to escape your past. 

It was at that moment that the past caught you. 

“Tired of me again, chérie?”

You stilled. 

The entire room, the world stilled, more frozen than the statues around you.

When you truly comprehended the origins of the voice, you whirled around. All thoughts abandoned you the second you truly saw the apparition.

Good God. That was not some apparition. 

You could barely speak.

“J-Jeonghan?”

Yoon Jeonghan. The most famous actor in the world.

He smiled a little, and everything came crashing back—God, he looked so different, yet the exact same since the last time you had seen him. Granted, he dominated every television screen, every cinema theatre, so you never really escaped his existence, but it had been eons since he graced you with his physical presence. 

What had not changed in the slightest was his undeniable charm; he was as beautiful as he was the last time he was in front of you, more so after all these years. He had grown exquisitely into his features—his cheek bones heightened, his soft, delicate nose, coral lips stretching wider the further you examined him. His eyes—his magical, arched eyes—glimmered in the moonlight which shone through the huge windows. A few of his stray locks freed themselves from his beret, accentuating his tenderness—a feature which never left his face.

For a moment, you saw the twenty year old boy, fresh out of drama school, outside of the audition house.

For a second, you forgot why you were here in the first place.

“Bonjour, _____.”

You did not have the voice to greet him back.

Not when you realised the situation the second he said your name—who you were, why the hell you were in this city in the first place. 

Shit.

You could not do this today.

Suddenly, you wished he was a mere figment of your imagination, because then he would not have to see you in your drunken, disordered state, looking for art that was not there, looking for the past in the present.

But then he began to move.

This very real presence walked closer to you, and you felt your entire body constricting, because Yoon Jeonghan was in front of you. The greatest star in the world was approaching you, the man of your distant memories was coming too close.

“Wait,” he then said, and your throat was closing up, you were blinking rapidly, chest growing heavy, and you needed him to get away. He came closer, and you knew then and there you were going to die on the cold floor of the Louvre, marble eyes on you—

And then your own gaze was glistening, and when he noticed it became harder to contain yourself. “_____, are you all right?”

“Yes!” you got out, but then you proved yourself wrong when a few tears slipped out, staining your cheeks.

The man wasted no time, closing the last space between the two of you as he reached out. Instantly, you repelled from his touch, almost flinching from his surprise. “No!” you rasped out, bringing out your own hands to create distance, taking a step back. “No, you don’t need to do that…I’m fine.” 

You breathed sharply through your nose. “I am fine.”

Hastily you turned to the empty space where he last was, before you followed him like a madwoman around the hall. He watched you, your back almost to him. “What…what are you…” you paused, trying to normalise your shaking voice. “What are you doing here?”

You could feel his inquisitive stare upon you. “I could ask you the same thing.”

That question was not being answered. “I asked you first.”

Because you could not see him, you were not aware of his reaction. Still, it was enough for him to answer, “Well, in the Louvre, or in Paris?”

You gritted your teeth at that. “I think everyone knows why you’re in Paris at the moment.”

“Do they, now?”

You could not help it.

Casting a momentary glance at him, you were taken aback to find his gaze upon you. “Are you aware, at least?” he asked you.

Despite his simple questions, your impending headache, you had to clamp down on your remarks. “Of course I’m aware,” you muttered. “The papers are all over the press tours you’ve been doing.”

A perfectly groomed brow arched at your comment. “I’m surprised you follow the papers at the moment.” 

You knew exactly what he meant. “One must keep check of the stories they gossip about,” you only said, focusing back on the empty space. “Those journalists cannot be trusted.”

“Hmm…” you heard shuffling amongst his clothes—no doubt crossing his arms. “I have read the stories.”

A scoff. “I suppose you believe them, don’t you?”

He noted the cruelty in your response. The actor did not take it to heart.

“I have always believed in the stories you told me, chérie.”

This time, curiosity controlled your movement.

Curiosity had you turning back, forcing you to observe his expression, catch his lie. 

But you found no deception.

No, there was only sincerity—pure as the moonlight shining on the two of you.

Chérie.

The last time someone had called you such a sweet name was a lifetime ago.

How ironic, that it was the same man beside you who had bestowed you this very endearment.

A shuddered breath left you. 

You could not do this now.

You were going to say as much when Jeonghan interrupted you.

“Were you looking for something in here?”

Your furrowed brows had him humming. “I thought as much.” Gently, he jerked his head beyond your figure. “Strangely enough, I was looking for it as well.”

Confused, you glanced back at the empty space, where that certain, mysterious sculpture was supposed to be. “That is why I came to the Louvre,” you heard him say.

There was still suspicion laced in your features. “How do you know that we are thinking of the same piece?”

That ghost of a smile crept up again. “You act as if you don’t remember.”

Your sigh was sheepish. “I do,” you said, reminiscing on the memories. “But the name…”

No matter how hard you endeavoured, your memory of the sculpture, and its identity, was too hazy for your half-drunk mind. 

You searched him for an answer. “I’m sure you have not forgotten.”

“No…I have not.”

You waited. His silence had you insisting, “Well?”

When you saw a slight glimmer in his whimsical gaze, you knew that he had something else in mind. The implications had you biting your lower lip, anxiety blooming.

The nerves grew when Jeonghan spoke.

“I will tell you if you see me tomorrow.”

You blinked back.

“There’s an exhibition opening here tomorrow afternoon,” he continued, taking a step towards you, careful not to startle you again. “It’s centred on the sculpture we both wanted to see, but it’s been moved to another hall.”

He confused you a great amount. “How do you know that?”

His stare went beyond you, to the wall. “It says on the plaque.”

Sure enough—when you looked back, there was the notice. Because your French was adequate at best, you did not understand it fully. You simply had to trust his linguistic abilities.

That you could do—you were aware of Jeonghan’s fluency in the language of love. 

He cocked his head, a few strays cascading the side of his face. “You and I could see it there.”

The offer had shaken you. “Why?”

“Why?”

You knitted your brows suspiciously. “Why do you want to go with me?”

The film noir star watched you then, you shuffling uncomfortably under his scrutiny. God, you forgot how intense his eyes were—in fairness, you had not been the subject of his stares for a few years. 

He locked his gloved hands behind his back. “Because you need a break, _____. From everything.”

He offered you a smile. “Let me be the one to give you that. If only for the day.”

You could have crumbled before him.

It was at this stage you cursed yourself for being in such a state. Perhaps if you were sober, you would have carried on this conversation in a more respectable manner, taken more caution.

It was incredibly difficult, composing yourself around the man.

“I can’t…” you inhaled sharply, trying to form the words. “I cannot do midday…too many people, you know…staring, judging…”

“Ah.” He nodded, parting his mouth in thought. “Then tomorrow night?”

Stretching your mouth, unsure, he assured, “They will not follow you here at this hour.”

“How are you so sure of that?”

This time, he sighed, surprised at your anxiousness. “I see you’ve not changed, then.”

You narrowed your gaze. “What is that supposed to mean?”

But the actor did not seem like he was going to elaborate. 

He instead took another step towards you, a mere two feet left. 

“Do you trust me?”

You tilted your head back. 

What kind of question was that?

Do you trust me?

You did not trust anyone. Not after this whole debacle back home, when almost all your friends within the industry had contributed to your downfall. Hollywood was filled with traitors, the worst being the people who haunted the journey of your disgrace at every moment.

It was impossible to place any ounce of faith in another.

As you watched his eyes settle on you, you noticed an emotion you had not witnessed in forever.

Tenderness.

Tenderness with no ulterior motive—gentle acceptance, as if he recognised your position. As if he recognised your change, the apprehensive nature of your questions, your pauses. It physically hurt being stained with such compassion, when you had been begging for it from the world all those weeks ago.

It hurt, having someone who understood you.

You, however, should not have been surprised.

Yoon Jeonghan had always been like this. Especially when you both were together.

You could have smiled. 

What a time that was.

As if he could read your mind, the film noir star began, “You remember, don’t you? That I’ve never let you down?”

You decided to let yourself slip—you could always blame it on the alcohol. 

“What time do you want me here tomorrow?”

His eyes widened slightly—relief. “This hour. They will not follow us here.”

Nodding hesitantly, you then realised just what hour it was, and inwardly cursed. Seungkwan was going to murder you.

“I…I need to be getting back,” you said, gaze falling to the entrance. “It’s quite late.”

He followed your trail of sight. “Let me walk you to your hotel,” he offered. “I can’t have you stumbling around in Paris at this hour.”

Forever the gentleman. “It’s only a fifteen minute walk from here.”

“All the easier to walk with you, no?”

You averted his stare. “Hmm.”

There was a growing feeling that he was still looking at you. 

His voice morphed a little amusement when he said, “Should we start walking, are you going to spend the night avoiding my gaze?”

Cheeks heating, you gestured to the stairs, deigning only a second-glance. “I’m not…” you trailed off, finding it difficult to lie to him. “Let’s go.”

His eyes followed the stairs. “After you.”

Obliging, your heels conquered the low, marble stairs, his phantom presence right behind you. You took the same route, this time reversed as you tried to exit the museum, the actor pointing out a few works you had missed on the journey to the sculpture hall.

Once you both were out of the gallery, the cool Parisian air kissed your face in greeting. The city had been cloaked by the night, the moon bathing the sanded-stone streets grey, a myriad of stars twinkling in welcome. A heavy sigh fell from your lips, taking in the mellow atmosphere of the coming autumn. 

“Never before…has someone been more…”

Cars could be heard in the distance, a sweet forties’ song tuning in from the neighbouring streets. The noise of the citizens grew louder as you both left the borders of the Louvre Palace, walking along the road. 

“Unforgettable…in every way…”

Jeonghan’s hands went to the top of his trench-coat, lifting up the lapels. Consequently, the sides of his face were hidden from view, effective enough for far-away onlookers to avoid guessing his identity. You, on the other hand, forgot your face mask, but a bitter feeling inside you knew that you did not need it.

Compared to the man beside you, you were nothing.

You hated how envious you had become.

“Why the frown?”

Perking up at his question, you shrugged, not wishing to elaborate over your unreasonable emotions. “Nothing. Simply tired.”

Fixing his beret, he asked, “Oh? Are you working on something?”

You shook your head, quirking your mouth to the side. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” A hint of sarcasm slipped into your response, without control. “One can’t find much work when one is scandalised from the industry.”

“One won’t be able to find work, dear _____,” he countered, “If one is hiding from the industry.”

“One is not hiding,” you griped. “One is…thinking. Figuring out one’s situation.”

A lingering, incredulous look. “One needs to travel across an entire continent to think?”

This time, you returned it—surprised him with your misery. “When one’s situation is this bleak, even travelling across continents is not enough.”

Jeonghan’s melancholic frown had you looking ahead. “Whatever,” you said, “At least Seungkwan has not given up on me.”

The name had the actor almost lighting up. “Seungkwan? He’s here with you?”

“I dragged him with me when I left LA.” You huffed out a chuckle. “Poor bastard has been finding auditions for me in every corner of this place. I don’t think he realises that no one actually wants me amidst…all this.”

Turning into another slimmer road, your company slowed his stride. “You will climb up from this. Every actor in Hollywood has had a scandal, some worse than yours!”

“It’s been weeks, Jeonghan!” you exclaimed, growing restless. Noticing a few heads rise from your slight outburst, you tried to sober your speech. “I just…I don’t think I can come back from this.”

His tone softened, a mere muttering. “You cannot give up hope.”

You did not deign him a glance. “There is no more hope to give up.”

The actor was silenced by your declaration.

The two of you did not say much more, walking on the roads until you reached your hotel, marked by the tall, bronze column, a statue of famed, Corsican general at the very top. 

When Jeonghan regarded the sheer luxury of your residence, he quirked a groomed brow. “For someone with no job, you sure are living like a blockbuster actress.”

Your sour glare his way had him laughing softly. “I still have funds from my earliest hits,” you crowed. “And why shouldn’t I live like a star?”

“I wonder how Seungkwan feels about your opinion,” he pondered, greatly entertained. “Last time I remember he promised to fix your spendthrift habits.”

Crossing your arms, you strolled closer to the hotel. “He’s not kept his word, then. I am a pauper living like a princess.”

He followed your trail. “That’s because you were a princess once.” His hands slid in his pockets. “Ruling over cinema.”

The grand doors of the Ritz were right in front of you. “And now the king of film wishes to associate with his disgraced subject.”

But this king, face half-hidden from the crowd, only observed you in the lamplights. “No, it is…simply two people from the past, catching each other in the present.”

You shuddered out an exhale. 

It was not as if he was wrong.

Jeonghan was a figure of the past—since your publicised breakup with him, the two of you had never really spoken, an offence you supposed you could not rest at his door. You had seen him everywhere in your time in LA, but you knew he had been erased from your future. 

You never thought you would see him in that gallery room.

Even now, blinking back your booze-induced drowsiness, you wondered if he truly was in the present—here, before you, in all his fantastical, otherworldly glory. He stood, trying to read you like a new screenplay, uncovering the plot, the conflicts of your person, and you wondered whether he would succeed. 

He had always been so wonderfully perceptive. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” you said to him.

The stare was prevalent when he asked, “Like what?”

When you started pursing your mouth at him, he huffed mirthfully through his nose. “Fine.”

“I am all right, you know,” you muttered. “Always was, always will be.”

“Will you be?”

You did not answer his question.

Of course you will not be all right—but he did not need to know this.

“Goodnight, Jeonghan.”

Turning your back to him, you made to enter the hotel.

“It was good to see you.”

His voice paused your movement. 

“You know…after so long.”

A look over your shoulder—you watched him in his long-hair, bereted, midnight glory. His lapels had drooped, exposing his face much more, but he did not seem to care so much—not as much as you would have, in his place. 

When you deigned him a response, you blamed the remaining alcohol in your system for such candid honesty.

“It was good to see you too.”

With that, you turned, a haste in your step as you slipped inside the hotel.

LE FRANCE-SOIR, 30TH SEPTEMBER, 1954

WORLD STAR YOON JEONGHAN SPOTTED ENTERING THE LOUVRE NEAR MIDNIGHT!

Our favourite actor was seen going inside our landmark museum in the late hours of the night, unaccompanied and hidden. It has only been a week since he has arrived in the city, and although he is here for his movie’s promotion, he clearly sees Paris as more than just a stop in a press tour! 

Our readers must be aware of Jeonghan being an avid art enthusiast. Many a time he has expressed his admiration for the classical masters, as well as the contemporary scene that is growing popular in major cities in Europe. Maybe, once the film is released, he will stay longer with us, and indulge in Parisian culture.

Until then, enjoy the pictures of our star, smiling at the cameras!

YOU WERE STILL UNSURE WHETHER YOU HAD TRULY MET JEONGHAN.

The trek back to your room had been occupied with your thoughts, debating whether you had truly encountered a man of that influence, merely sauntering in a gallery. Of course, you were aware that you had not crossed the point of pure delusion, but you had hallucinated in the past while intoxicated.

You had even woken up in a daze, undisturbed by Seungkwan’s usual calls to trudge into audition houses. This time, it seemed as if he left you alone, which was incredibly fortunate, seeing as you had plans for today.

You considered mentioning your strange, unexpected meeting to him, but then you held back, resorting to pacing in your room. You doubted whether he would believe it, seeing his exasperation with your recent behaviour.

If you told your agent that you were somehow meeting a renowned ex-boyfriend, whose very presence beside you would ruin his reputation and revive yours, then he would have truly had a heart attack. That would not be the most ideal situation, considering he was the very reason you were not completely ruined. 

Satisfied with your decision, you resorted to staying in your hotel room, scouring through the very tabloids that tormented you over information you had not bothered searching for before. Sure enough, it was not difficult finding his name within the texts—if you had columns written about you, then Jeonghan had pages, singing praises of his upcoming film. You hated how bitter you were, seeing his stellar reviews, barely anything negative about his behaviour. You knew that such popularity had to be a double-edged sword, but the man had managed to maintain the perfect balance without harm.

A scowl marred your features. Of course you had to be pricked with the downsides of fame.

Throwing the magazines to the side, you debated ordering a bottle of wine, but then immediately shook your head.

Tonight, you could not be drunk around him. You needed your thoughts to be settled when you saw him again, because you had a feeling that he was very capable of rattling them. Not that you had feelings to evidence this—your ex-lover possessed a rare trait to render you nervous in his presence. 

The rest of the day was spent thinking about the late night encounter, and when night had fallen, you prepared yourself for the next meeting. You settled for soft colours, white button-up shirt and a pink long-skirt, hem caressing your shins. Slipping on your heels, you perched a half-hat upon your hair. Taking hold of a face mask, you slipped it on, hoping it would hide you from the incoming press. 

Satisfied, you took your handbag, leaving the room and locking the door behind you.

Leaving the Ritz, you were relieved to find no one recognising you as you walked out of the entrance, calling a cab on the street. It was only five minutes to the Louvre, so you did not have to wait until you arrived at the destination. Paying the fare, you exited the vehicle, slipping into the museum through its main entrance.

Although you were expecting the grand, ornate hallways of the once-palace-turned-gallery, what you did not prepare yourself for was two guards approaching you. 

Their stern greeting was laced heavily with their accents. “‘Scuse-moi madame, the museum is closed.”

“You cannot be here!”

Instantly, you recoiled from them, irritation spreading as you brought down your mask. “But I came here at the same time yesterday!”

“The museum has closed early today for a private showing,” the other guard explained, reaching out to guide you back out. “We apologise for the inconvenience, but—”

“Who the hell is renting out the Louvre for themselves?” you demanded, waving off the men who tried to escort you out. “All right, all right, I’m leaving, goodness!”

Grumbling, you made to leave, security right behind you to make sure of it.

That was when you heard a familiar, sultry voice.

“Elle est avec moi ce soir.”

The guards turned around, taking you in their direction.

Your eyes widened at the sight of him.

There, just across from you, Jeonghan stood, looking as if he had stolen the night and etched its darkness into his attire. This time, his trench-coat, beret, trousers were all bathed in the black, almost silhouetting against the shadows of the hall. His stretched hand gestured to you as he focused on the men that wished you out.

Then, he glanced at you. “She is with me this evening.”

Security immediately let you go, apologising profusely in French as you dusted at your shirt. You dipped your neck in acceptance, a sheepish expression upon your face because you could not respond to them. Once the actor stepped closer to you, he ordered a few things in his Parisian accent, and you wished then that you had practised the language of a country you were so hell-bent on hiding in.

Security soon returned to their original places, leaving the two of you alone.

You, alone with Jeonghan.

The film noir star regarded you with a peculiar enthusiasm. “I had a feeling you wouldn’t come.”

The first urge was to ask him why, but you supposed he was not unfair for saying such a thing. “I was unsure of whether I dreamt you up or not.”

A slight curl of his lips. “Have I given you certainty now?”

You decided to be honest. “Only a little.”

His mouth curled wider. “Well then…” He raised his hand to the world of art before you. “I have the whole night to convince you.”

You should have returned his smile. 

This time, though, you were sober. 

Apprehensively, you walked up to him. Only then he commenced, leading you into another universe, far away from the press, the people, the world and its restrictions.

The only sound as you both walked were the clicks of your heels, the soft thumps of his boots. You wished he would strike a conversation, ease the nerves that decided to enliven within you. You supposed, though, that releasing you of your anxiety was not the actor’s job. It did not help that Jeonghan had never felt a fraction of your nerves.

Probably. It was only a guess—you did not know this Jeonghan, the man that dominated world cinema.

At least he retained his perceptive behaviour, because a minute later, he said, “You will enjoy the exhibition, _____…very nostalgic.”

“Oh?” You admired the gold arches, the intricate detailing of the ceilings. “How so?”

“You’ll see. I don’t want to spoil anything.”

Not particularly satisfied with his response, you targeted him with another question. “Are we truly the only people here?” When he nodded lightly, as if it was the easiest thing to obtain, you had to gawk. “How did you manage to close off the Louvre?”

He slid his hands in his coat pockets. “I suppose being an actor has its benefits.”

Both taking a left, you countered, “I’m an actor, too, but I would never be granted a private audience here.”

“Let me rephrase,” he said, mouth morphing into a smirk, “Being a famous actor has its benefits.”

A crude scoff escaped your throat, unable to contain itself. “Oh my God!”

Your reaction had the man spluttering into laughter, closing his eyes and dipping his head. That only made you scowl all the more, and when he settled into amusement, he brought his face to yours, slowing his walk. 

“Easy, sweetheart,” he mused, “You know I like to tease you.” His eyes regarded your offence, your features slowly easing. “Or have you forgotten how to have a little fun?”

You waved him off, looking beyond his inquisitive gaze. “I have changed plenty since you last met me.”

“Since yesterday?”

A glare. “You know what I mean.”

The man kept silent, merriment lingering in his features as you both slowed your pacing. Huge banners welcomed you over the grand doorway, reciting the name of the exhibition beyond the hall you stopped in.

Another memory penetrated your mind at the name.

LOVE IS LOST, YET LOVE IS FOUND—DEPICTIONS OF CUPID AND PSYCHE.

“Ah…” Jeonghan walked ahead, reading the title. “We’re here.”

Cupid and Psyche.

You remembered why the subjects were so familiar. 

He looked back at you. “Shall we?”

Your vision stayed on the banners for a moment longer before directing it at him, nodding slowly. “Yes…let’s.”

With an uncertain feeling towards the room before you, and even more uncertain feeling towards the man beside you, you entered the exhibition, expecting nothing.

You were welcomed with everything.

Cupids and Psyches were everywhere in the room, depicted within centuries-old pages and ink, oil upon wood and canvas, carved from ancient marble, bathed in every wall and floor of the room. The winged god and his human lover were unmissable in the works of art dedicated to them, and you glanced at the entry paragraphs, discussing the subjects.

Your amazement had the man beside you chuckling. “Stunning, isn’t it?”

“I…” you could not even finish your words, finding the first glass cabinet, where dozens of drawings of the two lovers were shown. “How did you know about this?”

You felt his presence nearby. “You know I never miss an exhibition in Paris.”

One depiction caught your interest—a quick ink drawing of Cupid holding Psyche in his arms, wings resting behind his shoulders. “Still an avid art enthusiast?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Of course.” You could have sworn you felt his eyes on you. “You may have changed, but I have stayed the same.”

You held in the urge to make a face at him. “Fame changes everyone,” you snarled, “And you have received enough to become a new person.”

A pause. “Do you want me to be different?”

You snuck a glance at him—he was occupied by a large painting, this time a clothed Psyche watching over a slumbering Cupid. As you walked closer, investigating it further, the details became clearer, the god engulfed in pillows and darkness, the only light coming from his lover’s lamp. 

You decided not to answer him. You could not—you had nothing to silence him with.

So you moved on, finding little solace in the artwork around you. “What I want,” you said instead, “Is for you to stop bringing me to these exhibitions. I have never enjoyed them as much as you have.”

Listening to his soft chuckling, you heard him say, “Well, that I wish I had forgotten!” He turned around, casting a glance at you. “But don’t abuse the exhibition just yet.”

“I don’t hate it,” you offered, involving yourself in the sculpture work. There were a couple dozen peppered in the far side of the room, each bearing an inscription, and which part of the mythology it depicts.

You read the first tablet. L’Amour et Psyché. It was the same scene, but this particular Psyche was half-nude, gazing over the sleeping Cupid. The detailing on this sculpture was more precise, more life-like. Leaning closer to inspect the winged creature’s face, the innocence moulded into his features had you fully endeared.

You wondered what their story was.

It was not as if you were unaware of what Cupid represented, but everyone had seen him more as a chubby angel-child, holding his arrows of love, ready to strike up trouble. In fact, you had not known that Cupid, too, had been struck by his own weapon over a mere human.

The train of your thoughts would have kept running in the tracks of your mind had a certain man not stopped it suddenly.

“This isn’t the one you were looking for.”

Perking up, you twisted your head to where Jeonghan was. He tilted his head to the furthest artwork, obscured by his figure. Your confused expression had him beaming.

He stepped away from your line of sight.

The star sculpture of the night was unveiled.

By God. That was the one.

Completely dazed, your feet gravitated towards the work of art, becoming clearer the closer you were pulled to its spell. You could not avert your stare from its allure, drinking in its details. Cupid, with utmost gentleness, held Psyche’s lolling head, as if pulling back from a searing kiss. His saved lover stretched her hands towards his curls, naked body resting on the rocks. His wings were outstretched, flaring back, details of his feathers etched into the off-white marble. 

Your cheeks could have burned at the sight of them.

It was as if you were interrupting them—pushing yourself in a moment that was not open to the rest of the world. You could never comprehend how someone could carve such adoration in stone, but the way they gazed at each other had your heart breaking in a million little pieces.

You could have looked at the two lovers forever.

“Psyche revived by Cupid’s Kiss.”

Snapping out of your daze, you saw the actor step beside you, admiring the work before him. “Exquisite, is it not?”

This time, you could not argue with him. “It truly is.”

His eyes slid to where you stood. “Do you remember when we first saw it?”

Your lips threatened to tug upwards. 

That was a memory you could not forget.

Now that you had seen the sculpture, you could recall the first time you had seen it. Interestingly enough, this very man was with you when you exposed the same awe you had just then, peering at the marble lovers as if you had uncovered a secret revelation in their embrace. You could even remember the faint clicking of his camera as he captured your admiration in that photograph. You wondered whether he kept any pictures of you together on your first trip to this city.

But you did not confess such ramblings to him.

No, you only got out, “I do.”

He was satisfied with your answer. “Do you know their story?” A tick of his head to the subjects. “Of them two?”

You shook your head. “I suppose you’ll enlighten me?”

A glance at you. “Only this once.”

You returned it, turning your back to him. “Go on, then,” you said, making to move. “Educate me.”

When you took your first step around the sculpture, Jeonghan commenced.

“Before Cupid came here, Psyche was stuck in an eternal sleep. She let curiosity take the better of her.”

Another slow stride, you observing the stretch of Cupid’s legs, the perched foot. “What happened to her?”

“She was given a jar, filled with divine beauty by Proserpina—Roman Persephone—to give to Venus. She was warned not to open the contents. Curiosity took over her, though, and she opened the jar, desperate to have some of that famed beauty.” 

He slid his hands in his pocket. “However, there was no divine essence in that jar, but the darkest sleep. It was a sleep no one could escape from.”

Gradually, you inspected the detail of the god’s wings, but you were occupied with the storyteller’s words. “And then?”

“What then? She fell into oblivion. A deep sleep that no one could wake her from.”

Although you were hidden from the mythical bodies, you swore your ex’s stare penetrated through marble. “She was considered unsavable, _____. Doomed forever.”

Your throat constricted, steps faltering. You did not understand why it hurt you so much, knowing it was just a story—hell, her fate was revealed in the sculpture’s title.

Still, you asked him, a speck of fear in your voice, “Then?” 

You heard his footsteps edge closer. “Well…Cupid found her sleeping, and touched the tip of his arrow upon her.” 

Sure enough, you spied the quiver of arrows upon his side, strap slung over his shoulder. “And what did that do?”

His presence was near, so near. “He found that…that his love-tipped arrow healed his beloved.”

When you turned, taking the step into view, you found Jeonghan’s eyes rooted to you. Only the curve of Psyche’s hip, perched on the rock, remained between you two.

When the film noir actor parted his mouth, you held onto his every word.

“He saved her, chérie, from her downfall.”

You hitched your breath, unable to move.

You could not look away from him.

“Did he, now?”

“He did.” And when you gulped, his gaze flickered to the bob of your throat, before imprisoning you with his stare once more. “Because he would have done anything to revive his lover’s soul.”

Oh, God.

His words snatched every atom of oxygen in the hall.

You could not do this sober. You could not do this at all.

“Jeonghan, I—” you backed away a little, feeling your heartbeat fastening with every second. “I must go.”

He sensed your sudden panic. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, I just…” you tried to stabilise your breathing. “It’s very late. I should be going back.”

Circling around the sculpture, he removed the obstacle. “Is everything okay?”

You nodded quickly, lungs faltering with each second that passed in his presence. “Yes, I need to just…Seungkwan will be worried.”

Had he not known you for such a long time, he would have questioned you further, freed the real reason out of you.

Tonight, though, he would not pester you.

“All right.”

He ticked his head towards the entrance. “Let’s go.”

The two of you swiftly exited the grand exhibition, the Cupids and Psyches watching you leave—had these statues had even a spark of life, they would have spent it in anticipation, watching the broken couple walk side by side out of the museum.

You dared not speak to him as you left the Louvre, Jeonghan thanking the guards earnestly for their overtime, following after you. Thankfully, the night was still young—the likelihood of any sudden cameras flashing in your face was second to none. 

As you and your companion left the expanse of the Palace, you found a sleek, black Bentley waiting on the large road. Jeonghan hummed out at its recognition, gesturing towards it. “Ah, no need to walk much then.”

Stopping before the luxurious vehicle, you locked your hands behind your back, your gaze upon his face.

His words at the museum came ringing back into your mind.

He saved her, chérie, from her downfall.

Despite the Parisian chill, your face burned. 

“Well…I guess this is it.”

Jeonghan’s face exposed confusion. “Whatever do you mean?”

You raised your brows. “I did say I had to go.”

“No, I know that.” His gaze slid to the car door. “But I assumed I’ll be driving you home.”

In other circumstances, you would have jumped at the chance. Tonight, though, he had spoken some flowery truths, and made your heart uneasy. “No, you don’t have to,” you assured him, looking at your journey back home. “My hotel is only ten minutes away. I wouldn’t mind the walk.”

He then pondered for a moment before making another offer. 

“Take my car.”

You were going to object, but he interrupted, “I know what you’re going to say, but I insist. It’s too late to walk alone.”

“I’ll be fine,” you then insisted. “At least no one would bother me on the way.” You did not know why, but your voice turned sharp. “If you still live in the Passy apartment, then it’s an hour’s walk from here. These journalists will find you at that time.”

Jeonghan’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I think the both of us know that I never cared about the press…whatever they published about me.”

Right. Of course. “I see,” you could only say back, shuffling on your feet.

“_____.”

You paused. 

He stepped forward—careful, as if you would flinch should he come any closer. “Don’t worry about me and take the car.” 

After a hard sigh, you reached out to the car, grabbing the handle. With a tug the backseat door opened. 

You stepped down from the pavement, about to enter the vehicle when you halted.

Turning around, you parted your mouth.

“I didn’t mean to leave so suddenly,” you began, not quite sure where this was heading. “I just…well, thank you, I guess.”

“Thank you?”

“For the ride…” you furrowed your brows, wishing you had kept your mouth shut. “And well, you know…for tonight.”

And for the story of a love lost—and then a love found.

Jeonghan’s smile was infectious—it struck your mouth to curl upwards too.

“You have a good night, _____.”

The response slipped out before you could stop yourself.

“I already have.”

That earned you an outright grin, his nose crinkling near the top. “Have you?”

But now you were flustered, forcing yourself into the car. His soft laughter made you hug your coat tighter around yourself. “Good night,” you muttered, ready to slam the door shut had he not clutched the outside handle. 

Leaning down, he uncovered his face, lopsided as his beaming had you further embarrassed. “At least say it to my face before you close the door on me.”

Your huff was greatly exaggerated. “Have an amazing, fantastic, unforgettable night, Jeonghan,” you hissed.

His eyes danced a waltz that you remembered, all those years ago.

“I already have.”

And before you could say anything more, he closed the door for you, urging the chauffeur to drive on. 

As the man asked you for your destination, you could only mumble out the Ritz’s location, mind in another universe entirely as the Bentley soared to life.

The further you drove from the enigmatic actor, the more you strained your neck, trying to catch a sight of him through the back glass. Settling back down, you bit your bottom lip, clutching at the sash of your coat.

He saved her, chérie, from her downfall.

Because he would have done anything to revive his lover’s soul.

You gripped the sash tighter.

One thing, at least, you had learned for certain.

Yoon Jeonghan was not of your delusions.

He was very, intensely, frighteningly real.

LE FRANCE-SOIR, 4TH OCTOBER, 1954

SUPERSTAR JEONGHAN’S BIRTHDAY BASH PLANNED IN BIG-TIME LOCATION! ALLEGED NAMES TO BE INVITED…

We wish the happiest birthdays to the world’s sweetheart, Yoon Jeonghan! As our dear star celebrates his happy day in a world of press tours and back-to-back interviews, we have a source which tells us that he will be occupied tonight by his co-stars, who plan to throw him a party that Paris talks about for the rest of the month! Unfortunately, dear readers, the event is kept very hushed, but fear not—we will bring details for all you curious fans!

Do be satisfied with exclusive photos of the actor strolling along the Seine banks at 2 o’ clock in the morning! We wonder where he was coming back from…

PERHAPS RUNNING AWAY FROM THE GREATEST LIVING ACTOR WAS NOT THE SMARTEST DECISION YOU HAD EVER MADE. 

It was not as if you had any other options. His words had struck beyond your skin— caught onto the webs of your soul, and refused to escape, no matter how ardently you tried to wrench them out with your self-reassurances. 

He should not have said anything akin to what he confessed that night, four days ago. You knew he was merely narrating a fairytale, but the look in his eyes as he recited the love story haunted you every night since.

You did not understand whether the unease, settling too comfortably in your veins, was a feeling you would rather live without, or a sensation you had come to enjoy as you pondered over his words. You did not leave your hotel room, mess of clothes and room service food piling up with every passing day. 

Even catching the headline for Jeonghan’s imminent birthday celebrations had you delving deeper into the mind abyss, more so when that day arrived.

Your eyes wandered to the telephone, perched upon the small, circular table by the window. 

Perhaps you should call him. 

A harsh laugh escaped you.

Very funny.

Not that you could call him—his apartment phone number was lost on your ears. 

Nevermind. That possibly idiotic option died before it could be seriously considered. 

A continuous, sharp rapping on your hotel door had you rising briskly from your speculations. 

“Seungkwan,” you muttered. 

Walking over your mess, you reached out to the knob, opening the intricate door.

“It’s a wonder I’m not greeted by your corpse every time I come here.”

“Good morning to you too, asshole,” you chirped back, striding back into your room, waiting for your dear agent to close the door. “And just for a heads-up, I am not auditioning for anything today.”

“See, I knew you would say something like this, so I did not even bother.” He sighed out the world’s air from his lungs, as if shouldering a burden greater than any human has experienced. “I have officially, legally given up on you.”

“Oh really?” you hissed, settling yourself on a chair by the telephone table. “Then why bring your oh so valuable self to my door today, when you have officially, legally given up on me?”

Fingers dipping into his inner waistcoat pocket, Seungkwan fished out a red envelope, cursive black ink on the front. “I received a very ominous letter at my doorstep.” He strode over to where you sat, taking the opposite chair. “It was meant for you.”

You waved off the letter. “You open it,” you said, leaning back in the seat. “It’s probably another tabloid scare. God knows how they could find my hotel room number.”

“Lazy,” the man muttered before ripping open the fold, taking out a sleek card of the same colour, bordered with intricate, black lining. Interest piquing, you watched him read the contents, brows furrowing by the second.

When his eyes went completely round, you straightened, confused. “What is it?”

But he only ticked his head to the side, rereading the writings etched onto the red paper. Tossing the envelope on the table, he was rooted to this letter, brows scrunched so close together they could have become one.

“You’re scaring me,” you began, hand reaching out to take the letter, only to fail when he distanced himself. “What the hell is on there?”

After a moment, he closed his eyes, grinning. “It’s all fine. I think someone is playing a very sly trick on us.”

“What?” You got out, but he was only chuckling, as if he had been caught acting like a fool. “Now you’re just making me angry!”

“Well, let me help reverse that anger, my dear!” He brought the card out to you. “Do have a read and laugh!”

Completely baffled, you took it from him, reading the words which had brought Seungkwan to such a state.

Your own eyes nearly burst from their sockets. 

Dear _____,

You have been cordially invited to celebrate the birthday of Yoon Jeonghan. The celebration is planned to be grand, with the entire Moulin Rouge booked out to perform cabarets, drink champagne and dance away the night.

As this event is private, we ask to be discreet when you arrive, and only bring one other person with you, as only the best of the best are to attend.

We hope to see you tonight, 8 o’ clock onwards. A car will be waiting outside your hotel to bring you to the destination.

Signed,

YOON JEONGHAN.

“Oh…my God.”

Your agent snorted, straightening his waistcoat. “Is that not hilarious?!” he started, folding a leg over the other. “I must say, the press is becoming much too creative to get us out of private circles! Yoon Jeonghan, huh!” 

You kept staring at the letter, feeling your heart rise to your throat as he carried on rambling his disbelief. “This must be another way to torment you, _____, but don’t you worry! I will get to the bottom of whoever did this.”

He turned his head to you. “So what if he was your ex? Way to rip out an old flame from the past! You both haven’t spoken in years.”

That comment could have made you flinch.

When he caught the dread in your face, he halted. “Why do you look like you’re about to hurl your guts up?”

Your smile was more of a grimace. “Well, um…you see…”

“Oh my God.” He gripped onto the arms of his chair. “What the hell have you done?”

“Why are you assuming I have done something?” you demanded, but it left your mouth much weaker than you anticipated.

“Because I have cleaned enough of your messes,” he responded sharply. “Why are you looking so guilty?”

“Well…erm…” It was like you were a criminal, confessing to a dozen murders. “You know when, um, you said that Jeonghan and I…haven’t spoken in years?”

His eyebrows must have been exhausted from all the furrowing they had done in the past ten minutes. “What are you trying to tell me?”

You averted your gaze, instead choosing to engrain it on your unmade bed. 

“I…may or may not have…seen Jeonghan…five days ago…”

Mustering your bravado, you snuck a peek at your agent. 

His poor eyes were as wide as saucers. 

You shrunk back. “Twice.”

Looking away again, you waited in agonising silence for him to take in the ground-breaking piece of information. This was not another failed audition, nor was this the sheer astonishment to find you half-dead from the drinking. This was something he did not think you were capable of experiencing. 

After a good while, you heard him speak.

“Yoon Jeonghan…” A pause. “The Yoon Jeonghan…the biggest actor in Hollywood…”

“…yes?”

Seungkwan spewed out curses so colourful they could have painted the entire hotel. 

Even you had to clamp down on your lips to stop yourself from gasping. When he was done, he dipped his whole body down, putting his head in his hands. Only then, you let yourself observe his possible mental breakdown, hugging your legs to your chest. 

It must have been a good twenty minutes, sitting, watching his dejected position, when he heaved himself up, rubbing his face. Sighing, he finally turned to you, exasperation staining his features. 

“How much have you had to drink in the past week?”

You ticked your head back. “What?” 

“You’ve done this before, _____,” he continued, getting up from his seat. “Delusion! I heard you say such crazy things when you hit the papers then. It’s just the drink getting to you. Fucking Yoon Jeonghan…”

“No, Seungkwan, you have to believe me.” You got up from your own chair. “I met him the day I was passed out, when I was rejected from that side-lead role.” 

“Where would you even meet him?”

You looked to the window, to the city beyond. “The Louvre…?”

It was not as if you were lying—the way you said it, though, had the agent doubting you even more. “You? The Louvre? Now I really don’t believe you.”

“Please!” you insisted, watching him pace about in your room. “I may have said some questionable things before, but I’m telling the truth this time!”

He did not answer you, only sparing you withering glimpses with every turn. At some point, he groaned as he halted in the middle.

“I just cannot understand…” Hanging his head low, he propped his hands to his hips. “I cannot get my head around…”

“What?” you asked, desperation clear in your voice. “What else is there to understand?”

When he finally lifted his head, his eyes were narrowed—accusatory.

“Why was Jeonghan wanting to meet you?”

You paused.

Seungkwan fully faced you, then, cocking his head. “After everything that had happened…” 

His voice involuntarily quietened. “After what you did…”

But you raised your hand, all fingers curling save for your pointer. “Don’t,” you muttered. “I don’t need your speech. Not today.”

Second hand raising, they held onto the man’s shoulders, gripping tight. “Look, I know this is crazy…I-I truly get it…but you have to believe me. 

“I need you to believe in me.”

He inspected your agony, the nails that started to dig into his clothes. Gritting his teeth, he should know better than to go along with your follies, and nurse you out of your despair when it causes ruination every time. He had to recognise your self-destructive tendencies, especially since he was always at the scene of your crimes. 

In that moment, though, with the amount of hope you held in your eyes…

He had a feeling that this time, he could not let you down.

So, with a harsh sigh through his nose, he held your arms, pushing them off. “Fine,” he got out, scowling at how easily you were elated. “But!”

You were already whirling around, running to your wardrobe. “Oh, thank you, Seungkwan, thank you, thank you! God, I must begin preparations at once!”

“_____! I have a condition!”

But you paid him no mind, searching through your more luxurious outfits—the ones that managed the cut when you rush-packed for this spontaneous journey. “Go on, Seungkwan. Throw me something truly horrendous!”

There was a moment’s quiet before he spoke.

“If this night turns out to be a sham, then we are leaving Paris.”

That certainly dampened your spirits.

You turned around. “That truly is horrendous.”

The agent did not smile. “I mean it. You have my interest for now, _____, but if this is another one of your drunken plans then I cannot humour them anymore.”

Had you not beseeched for his faith mere minutes ago, you would have started arguing with him. At least this once, you had to let him keep the condition.

Even if it meant leaving your sanctuary—and the certain people that resided within it.

DESPITE SEUNGKWAN’S SUSPICIONS, THE RIDE TO MOULIN ROUGE ARRIVED AT THE VERY MINUTE IT WAS PROMISED.

You ushered him to introduce yourself to the chauffeur, watching out of your window as he made his way to the entrance, introducing himself in his usual charismatic charm. You could only hear certain words—courtesy of your hotel room being five floors high—but when you saw your agent looking at you down below, signalling your presence, you knew it was time.

Leaving the windowsill, you inspected yourself in the floor-length mirror in your room, checking the final details. Fortunately for you, you had kept your winter Dior gown from several years ago, worn once at a private party back in LA. Although a little out of fashion for this night, it was still as gorgeous as the first time you had worn it; it was a creation of black silk and velvet, sleeveless bodice tightly fitted as the heavy skirt flowed down. The showstopper detail were the two, huge swoops of midnight velvet, creating an appearance of a huge bow, fitted at the edges of your bodice’s hem. You added to the dress by wearing white gloves, reaching till your elbow, and adorning black diamonds, settled around your neck. The matching earrings glimmered in the hotel lights, accentuating your makeup.

For someone who had lost her stylists, artists, designers and the like, you had truly outdone yourself.

You allowed yourself a deep, hard breath.

You were ready.

Once you fished out a fur scarf, you wrapped it around yourself, making sure your face remained at least half-hidden. Deep down, if the journalists caught you travelling to Moulin Rouge, you knew you would not hate it too much.

So what if you were creating anarchy in the Parisian parties? At least you would look exquisite doing so.

Exiting the hotel room, you locked the door shut, making your way down to the entrance. Once you felt the Parisian air you lifted your scarf, making sure no one recognised you as Seungkwan ushered you, his mask covering his nose and mouth.

The closer you hastened to your car, the more you could observe its sheer opulence. Jeonghan certainly paid no mind to expenses, providing a Porsche Limousine for his guests. Once you entered inside the car there was champagne in the foot of the huge seats, and you could have sworn Seungkwan could have kicked his feet in mid-air over the sight.

“Perhaps I should let you carry on with your delusions!” 

“Enough!”

The ride to Moulin Rouge was not far in the slightest, but it felt like forever. You wished it had lasted forever, because the nearer you rode to your destination, the more tangible the idea became that the tabloids had discovered the location for Jeonghan’s private party. Yes, you distinctly remembered, not even an hour ago, that you did not care for the piranha-like press, but now you were out of the comforts of your hotel, and into the great, wide world. 

“_____, snap out of it.”

You winced at your agent’s order, sucking your teeth. He fixed his bow-tie, continuing, “Now that you’ve proved me wrong, you cannot shy away from tonight. If that poor man invited you, then you owe it to him to go.”

Nodding absent-mindedly, you locked your hands upon your lap. Seungkwan was right—Jeonghan had the decency to extend the olive branch, even when you had hastened your departure the last time you had encountered him. Admittedly, he was reciting riddles you had quickly deciphered, but you were too much of a coward to insist what his true intentions were behind his whimsical speech. Your history with him was overwhelming enough; you did not need it to further entangle your present with him.

Still. You could not help feeling a little thrilled at seeing his invitation. You meant what you said to him that night.

You were incredibly pleased to see him—even if you had not expressed it properly to him.

The chauffeur slowed the vehicle at the front of the destination, the signature red lights of the mill flashing excitedly in the black night, wrapped all around the dome. The white lights of MUSIC HALL, plastered at the front of the establishment, flickered as your ride finally stopped. Quickly checking your surroundings, you breathed out in relief, not realising you were holding it in.

There seemed to be no flashing cameras nearby.

Seungkwan opened his door, which was next to the entrance. “Right,” he commenced, one leg out of the car. “Let us go!”

Once he was fully out, he brought out his hand for you. Taking it, you carefully manoeuvred your dress, taking great pains not to crease its silk panels as you heaved out of the car, making certain your face still hid from the rush of guests. When your dress had left the vehicle, your companion shut the door, ushering instructions for the chauffeur to drive wherever the rest of Jeonghan’s employees were stationed.

Offering his arm, you accepted gratefully, turning to look at him, face covered save for his determined eyes.

He tilted his head to the entrance—all he needed was your approval.

You nodded.

With your heart in your throat, you both stepped inside the Moulin Rouge, the first great event you had attended since the night of your downfall.

It was utter chaos.

Although you had been to the Moulin Rouge in the past, you had missed its grand reopening three years prior, when one of the Hollywood actors had renovated the establishments and extended its services to the elite population. You took in the grand, theatre-like atmosphere, engulfed with reds of all shades and textures, the colour of blood and rubies and danger flooding your senses. Dozens of tables, overflowing to the brim with food and drink, were occupied by some of the greatest actors of your time, filling the halls with merry conversation. Chandeliers, dangling off the high ceilings of the theatre, shined the place with sparkly light, reflecting off the diamonds in your necklace, and the thousand other jewels everyone adorned.

The real stars of this show, however, were the ladies in the centre of the stage—the cabaret dancers, their vibrant, peacock-like appearance shocking and wowing their high-class crowd. With their feather headpieces as big as their bodies, they twirled about in their frilly skirts, exposing their stockinged legs, causing either furious blushing or drunken hooting. Most sang in slurred French, while others flirted with their audience, their silent conversations returned with glee.

The entire place was chaos only the rich would indulge in.

This was the chaos you had missed out on, for all these months. 

“What the…” Seungkwan breathed out, unable to finish his shocked cursing. You shared in his sentiments, though, when you could not believe what your vision exposed to you. 

Even so, with everything that raged around you, your eyes scoured for the one man you entered this jungle of fame for. 

It was so strange—so incredibly extraordinary—that when you did find him, in the thick of the jungle, men and women like vines, entangling his figure, he was not focused on his admirers.

No, he did not care for the people around him, because his dark eyes found yours, long before you had found his.

You parted your mouth, the noise of the cabaret tuned out.

There he stood, a dark angel among the demons of Paris, waiting for you in the modern underworld. His usual soft curls had been straightened, along with his fringes, curtaining his face on the sides. Forever the fashion-revolutionary, he had worn a simple white vest underneath his sleek, black blazer, boots tapping softly against the beat of the music. Even with the distance separating the two of you, he had somehow robbed the very oxygen from your throat. 

Then he smiled at you, making a move forward, and all you could do was stay still. 

You could only watch as he muttered soft excuses to his guests, rooted to you as he crept closer. Your agent raised a brow at your changed demeanour, trying to follow your line of sight, but he did not catch the man who was charged with shocking you quiet.

He was about to ask what had gotten into you when the culprit emerged from the crowds.

Seungkwan’s mouth dropped to the floor.

“What the fuck?”

It seemed only Yoon Jeonghan could have finished his curses.

The film noir star eased up the carpeted steps, stopping before the two of you.

“Good evening to you, too, dear Seungkwan,” he said, voice like a balm among the boom of the Rouge.  

But then he slid those haunting eyes to you—all over you, darting on the details of your dress—and you could have melted to the floor. 

You knew instantly that he recognised the outfit.

“I see you have not left everything in LA.”

You shook your head, the corners of your mouth curling upwards. “No, I…I did bring some cherished items with me.”

A soft noise, like the beginnings of a laugh, escaped his nose. “Very good to know.” He peeked at the signature Dior bow. “I have a feeling that you are aware of this, but you look exquisite.”

Your stomach tightened at his words. “You don’t look so awful yourself.”

Now he let himself laugh properly, head tilting to his side. “I would have ridiculed your vanity, chérie, had you not deserved to possess it.”

That had your cheeks burning. His gaze became harder to uphold. “Thank you for your invitation,” you then said, suddenly eager to pass the embarrassment to another poor victim. “Seungkwan here thought it a fraud at first.”

The said-man gasped, glaring daggers at you. Jeonghan raised his brows, casting his dancing eyes to him. “Did you, now?”

“It was nothing like that!” he immediately rebuked, but then he huffed out, realising that was not fully honest. “Well, I mean…you must understand, we haven’t spoken to you in so long, so it didn’t seem real…”

It was your turn to glare at your friend spewing rubbish, but the actor offered a sheepish expression. “You speak the truth, I’m afraid. It had been much too long.”

He watched you, guilt morphing in his smile. “Let’s not be strangers anymore.”

Catching your lower lip with your teeth, you wondered how to respond to him—to these simple words, and the true complexities underneath. Thankfully, you did not have to, when he turned to the crowds, gesturing to the empty table in the centre. “Come,” he said, offering his arm to you. “Let’s settle at my table. We have a good view of the dancers.”

You looked at Seungkwan before accepting, looping your hand upon Jeonghan’s arm. “Your friends…who did you invite?”

“I actually didn’t plan this.” He pointed to the man beside the stage, talking to the staff as he observed the cabaret dancers. “Joshua threw this party in my honour. He owns the Moulin Rouge today.”

You remembered the news—your once co-star turned businessman, buying this dying establishment in efforts to revive the cabaret spirit. It seemed to be working, though, because your agent recalled that Joshua Hong was more successful as an entertainer than an actor. To you, that news was horrendous, because the man was already so successful as a film star.

The piece of information that stung, however, was that this was not your ex’s doing—perhaps you were another name on a long list to throw an invite to, lest they complain.

He patted your hand with his free one. “Your invitation, however, was of my own accord.”

You did not know why that made you smug. “I couldn’t imagine anyone else inviting a ruined actress to their birthday party.”

He matched your mirth. “And an ex at that? I have out-shocked myself this time.”

Chuckling, you swiped at your black dress, bow swaying. “I’m ready.”

“Let us go then.”

Descending the steps, the film noir star led you to the centre of the theatre, the celebrities surrounding the three of you quieting their conversations. Your nerves instantly sparked to life, bubbling within your body, and you tightened your hold on Jeonghan’s arm as he walked through the crowd, unfazed by the shift in atmosphere. Thank the Lord that the music was still deafening, cabaret girls still dancing. 

Seungkwan, plastering professional smiles to anyone he caught sight of, leaned closer as he strode beside you. “I guess you weren’t lying after all.”

Eyes darting to each and every stunned expression, you whispered back, “I haven’t gone insane yet. These people might drive me to it though…”

The empty table came into view, a huge circle clothed in white, possibly every single bottle of alcohol in Paris settled atop its surface. Fine-dined food was served before every chair, the luxurious scent teasing your nose, almost distracting you from the scrutiny of everyone in the hall. 

By this time, the owner of Moulin Rouge had returned to this important table, ordering the waiters as he pulled out a chair, ready to sit. He then saw the three people who had arrived in front of him, and his eyes widened, instantly straightening himself. 

“Oh, wow!” he exclaimed, hands gesturing to the two new guests. “I never thought I’d see the day!”

“Joshua,” Jeonghan began, looking at you and your agent, “I see my friends need no introduction.”

“Why, of course not!” The strapping young man walked around the table, providing you with a full view of his black tuxedo, matching bow-tie stark against his white shirt. His hair had been sleekly gelled back, but a stray lock curled over his forehead, accentuating his already lush appearance. Reaching over to you, he kissed both of your cheeks—very Parisian of him, you noted—and pulled away, smiling. “My goodness, I can’t believe you’re here in front of me!”

Chuckling a little, you tried, “Is that so hard to believe?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” he countered. “No one has seen you since you left, you know. I was half-worried the press would report your sudden death!”

“Not if I have anything to do with that,” Seungkwan immediately said, crossing his arms. “I have spent too much time and energy on _____ to see her dead in our hotel room.”

Glaring at your agent, you faced the businessman. “As you can see, I am alive and well. Or at least alive and better.”

He picked up a flute of champagne from his seat. “I must admit,” he confessed, “I did not think you would show up.”

You tried not to avert his gaze. “I did not want to miss Jeonghan’s birthday,” you replied, and you swore you could feel the said-man’s lips tug upwards.

A knowing smile caught onto the businessman’s lips. “I see,” he murmured, sipping his drink. “That is good to hear, because Jeonghan was expecting you tonight.”

This time, you whirled to the accused. Had you not been quick, you would have missed the second-long glare he sent his friend before morphing into an impassive daze. But then he caught your slight surprise, and knew you had seen it. His explanation was as swift as his glower. “I knew you would not miss a night of drinking and dancing.”

“I mean…I have missed plenty since the scandal.”

“But you being here is a sign of progress!” Joshua chimed in. “You attending this party is another way of getting back into the industry, and I wish to help every step of the way.” He slapped his hands together. “Your first task should be enjoying this night as much as you can.”

He then turned to the two men. “Isn’t that right, gentlemen?”

Seungkwan scoffed, mumbling something akin to how you would rather be scandalised again than have some good fun. Jeonghan, on the other hand, was watching you, picking up his flute of wine. 

Raising his glass, he declared, “To betterment.”

Joshua followed suit, even louder. “To betterment!” He saw yours and Seungkwan’s empty hands as he drank his champagne, letting out a dissatisfied noise. “Oh, do excuse me!” Snapping his fingers, two waiters ushered to each of you, offering flutes of champagne. 

You took from one the tray, raising it slightly. “To betterment,” you muttered, drinking. 

“Now, you must excuse me for the second time,” Joshua began, a hand on your bare shoulder. “I have a few more guests to entertain.” Grabbing onto the chair that you had planned to sit upon, he pulled it out, gesturing for you to carry out your intentions. “In the meantime, do settle down! I will be back very soon.”

Obliging the owner, you gingerly settled yourself onto the ornate seating, careful not to ruin your gown in the process. You held a hand over your diamond necklace, positioning the largest in the middle once more before setting your flute upon the table. As you sat, so did the others, Jeonghan on your left, Seungkwan on your right. 

The three of you watched the anarchy of the cabaret dancers, raising their legs to their sky, earning shocked, drunken laughter as their underskirts were revealed, contrasted by the bright colours of their stockings. Their large feathers shimmied along to their movements, drooping over their shoulders. 

Your agent blinked back at their provocative dancing, downing another flute of alcohol. “Why didn’t anybody show me this whenever we were in Paris?”

You clicked your tongue. “Because you don’t like Paris. I always have to drag you out here.”

Seungkwan began to groan, furrowing his brows. “Because this city is a bore!” He pointed at you with his glass. “Seeing the Mona Lisa and the Eiffel Tower is only interesting the first three times. Then, they become what they truly are…a metal building and some average-looking woman who ought to smile more.”

Your scoff had a few people from neighbouring tables turning their heads. “That entire comparison is enough for me to fire you.”

“Oh, please!” He raised himself in his seat a little to catch a look at the actor beside you, silent in his seat as he observed the cabaret. “I know Jeonghan here will agree with me!”

The said-man slid his eyes to the tipsy agent. “Think again, Seungkwan,” you rebuked. “Jeonghan loves Paris more than I do. And that is saying something.”

The younger man looked to the elder in pleading, ready to forgo his career to prove you wrong. The film star could not help chuckling.

Usually, he would have played along, if only to tease you—but the subject of discussion was much too serious for him.

“I cannot help you today, dear Seungkwan,” he said, a nostalgic smile staining his lips as he swirled his wine. “Paris is like a home to me.”

“Hmph.” Another flute finished, smacking it upon the table. “You both are beginning to irritate me!” He inspected the room, finding acquaintances to mingle with. “Now, I am going to go and dance with a few friends,” he declared, standing from his chair. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Friends? Since when did you have friends here?”

“Unlike you, dear _____, I choose not to rot in my misery,” your agent chirped, sarcasm amplified from the drink, “I instead interact with other human beings. Works like a charm!”

“Have fun,” you called to him, as if you were not praying he tripped and broke a leg. Unfortunately, he would not be useful to you as a cripple, and so instead hoped he was lying about having friends in this city.

Once he disappeared into a crowd of actors, you sighed—you would have slumped your shoulders had it not been a risk to your dress.

“What’s the sigh for?”

You watched your only companion entertain his alleged friends. “I was hoping Seungkwan only knew me in this event.” A bitter scoff. “I suppose I should mingle too…make more of these friends.”

“You cannot blame an agent for having connections,” Jeonghan said, taking a sip of his wine. 

“I’m not blaming him,” you lied, exasperated with his pragmatism. You knew you were being unreasonable—he did not have to state it out loud. “I just…I don’t know anyone here.”

He caught onto your first dishonesty, but did not deign to comment on it. 

Instead, he voiced out a thought that lingered upon him. “You know me.”

You turned to him. “Yes…I suppose so.”

“Is that not enough?”

You turned over his question. As you observed him finishing his wine, catching the alcohol on his lips with his tongue, you wanted to tell him no.

No, because whatever joy you had received in his attentions, did it replace the heights of attention you gained from millions? He may have been Yoon Jeonghan, but even a single star reached the skies through the help of a mass of rays, retiring along with the sun.

Was a once beloved man’s affections greater than the affections of the world?

It took everything in your power not to answer him, but to your greatest fortunes, you were saved from breaking the man’s heart. Just that second, Joshua sauntered through the crowds, bringing another bottle of extremely expensive wine, setting it upon the empty space before you. 

“What are you two sitting around for?” He pointed to his dear friend, then waved at the chaos around them both. “I didn’t arrange the most glamorous birthday party in Paris for the birthday boy to not partake in it!”

“Ah, Shua…I will drink first,” the actor reassured him, accepting the businessman’s refills of his glass. “I want you to dance!”

“Fine!” Joshua’s eyes darted to you, and he held his hand out. “But only if _____ here will dance with me.”

You laughed awkwardly, waving off his advances. “No, please, I’ve only just arrived!” You tipped your head towards the many more renowned actresses, without any partners. “Go indulge your other co-stars. I will enjoy the cabaret show you and you alone have arranged.”

Grinning at your intelligent evasion, he consented, “I will oblige you this once, but only because you have appreciated my entertainment!” He pointed at the two of you, finger darting with each second. “Don’t think you both have rid of me!”

“Of course not!” you exclaimed back as he left your side, acutely aware that you would cause scandal once more if it meant you did not have to frolic in the crowds tonight. The drink was already messing with your mind, and you had to pause, lest you lost yourself to the smooth jazz of the theatre. 

Soon, with the young night beginning to age, almost everyone shot up from their seats, dancing along to the rhythm of the dancers. Every actor, designer, stylist and people from the industry partnered with each other, whirling to the boisterous music that filled the Moulin Rouge. 

The atmosphere almost made you forget about everything that plagued your spirits, clapping your hands to the beat of the music. Your agent had found himself in the arms of dozens of women, drinking and dabbling in the celebrity gossip. You even found yourself making light-hearted conversation with old acquaintances within neighbouring tables, though you admit you had to thank Jeonghan’s presence for such attraction towards you. Before, the lack of attention upon you would have stung greatly, but the man beside you had a strange talent of making one feel incredibly special in any place, at any hour. 

You feared the questions that were sure to come, especially when you had shown yourself in the film scene for the first time in a while, but the people surrounding you only expressed their contentment in your arrival. It was so strange, when it was people, once of your own station, simply asking about your wellbeing, rather than reporters and cameras, mics rammed down your throat to record your latest scandal. 

Aside from the inquiries, there were also offers to join in the merry waltzing. Many a time the owner of this theatre endeavoured to have you join the others, but you waved off his hands, daring him instead to dance with the cabaret girls. 

“You do Joshua a disservice,” Jeonghan chided light-heartedly, melodic voice louder to avoid being drowned out from the saxophones. “Refusing his hand for the fourth time.”

“I haven’t danced in a while!” you exclaimed over the noise. “I refuse to embarrass myself in front of hundreds.”

“Well, you must,” he insisted, slowly raising from his chair. “Because I wish to dance and you will join me.”

Your chortling was sudden. “Do keep dreaming, Jeonghan!” You waved your finger to the dozens of actresses, eyeing up the birthday boy. “Go offer your hand to a woman who will actually accept.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, a smirk ghosting his lips. “You refuse to indulge the wishes of a man on his birthday?” 

Scoffing, you downed your drink. “I am certain you will find many more to indulge your wishes beside me.”

You averted his gaze, watching your drunk agent dancing rather spectacularly with Jeonghan’s current co-star. You had to hand it to him—Seungkwan climbed up the social ladder quicker than you expected. 

“All right…”

Jeonghan sat back in his seat. Picking up a teaspoon from the table, he clinked it against his glass, catching the attention of the tables around you.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” he declared. “Due to _____’s refusal, I will not be dancing with anyone this evening!”

Your eyes widened. 

Everyone within your radius turned their heads to your table. 

That was when the shouting began.

“What the—!”

“_____, don’t be a stick-in-the-mud!”

“Jeonghan, dance with us instead!”

The agitated exclamations, alternative offers chimed all around you two. Joshua, upon hearing this, squeezed past the growing crowd, hands on his hips at his old friend’s declaration.

“This will simply not do!” He then focused on you, gesturing to the seated man. “_____, you must dance with him.”

This was supported by a few cheers, urging you to accept. Seungkwan, who, too, heard the commotion, paused his dancing, the beautiful co-star right beside him. When he caught onto what everyone was complaining for, he snorted, shaking his head. “Save your voices, dear friends!” he yelled out. “_____ here would rather drop dead than listen to good sense!”

You would have shouted at him, but you could only gape at the man who caused the chaos.

“Come on, it’s just a dance!”

“It will only last a minute!”

“It’s his birthday, for God’s sake!”

His smirk, ghost-like before, sparked to life. 

Son of a bitch. 

“Fine!” you suddenly screeched, brows twisting in irritation. “I’ll dance, damn it!”

Your irritation grew when cheers rang around the theatre, which in turn had the music changing. The instruments jingled out even more livelier melodies, indicating that the birthday-boy was entering the space. Smoothly the actor left his seat, watching you reflect his action, albeit with more frustration. 

When you raised your head, your gaze fell on the outstretched hand.

With a melodramatic sigh, you took it.

Fingers wrapping around your hand, he led you to the emptier spaces, void of the tables as the crowds dispersed, resuming their swinging and waltzing. Once you both found a place, you looked at him, not pleased at all.

“Happy?” you jeered.

But then his hand slithered around your bare back, tugging you closer. With a hitched breath you were pulled in, your free hand instinctively grabbing his shoulder.

His eyes had you blinking back. 

“Exceptionally.”

You could only stare at him as he began to move.

The steps were short, snappy, matching the tune of the jazz which welcomed everyone’s ears. You dared not speak, too close to him, feeling his very breath fan your skin as he swung your enclasped hands along.

The ends of his hair tickled your hand on his shoulder, and you shifted, stumbling slightly into his hold. “Careful,” he whispered, and you felt your skin prickle at every corner. “Your step is a little shaky.”

“You think?” you asked sharply. When he chuckled, you realised that you did not think the sarcasm, but voiced it. 

You must really stop drinking. 

“You’re tipsy, aren’t you?” he inquired, squinting at you in amazement. “Goodness, you still can’t handle your drink?”

“As if you are not,” you countered, noticing the pauses in his step. “You dance better when you’re sober.”

“At least I dance at all.” He swirled you around, careful not to tarnish your dress. “Instead of shying away in a corner…away from everyone else.”

You gave him an irked glance. “You were with me in that corner, too.”

He returned it softly. “I wasn’t going to leave you alone, was I?”

“Hmm.”

He waited, watching your eyes stray to the dancers behind him, when he added a little amusement to his tone. “Plus, when you wear a dress like this…it should be a sin to hide yourself.”

A temporary look. “I thought you would forget.”

Scoffing, he mocked heartbreak as he pressed the enclasped hands to his chest. “You wounded me dearly with that, _____.” 

Turning you about, the music tuned louder as he closed his eyes. “It was 1949…spring time. Ah, yes, It was the after party of my first premier, and my co-stars and I were all dancing, just as we are now…”

His fingers held onto yours tighter. “And then you entered, wearing this…” 

He opened his eyes, gazing down at the details of your gown. “I swear to you, I forgot I had a movie coming out that night when I saw you in this dress.”

If he did not cease his words, then your face would have set alight. “All right, all right!” you exclaimed, tapping his shoulder. “You have proved yourself!” 

“Good. Don’t try and doubt me again.”

When you did not say anything, his lower lip jutted out ever so slightly. “Why did you wear it?” He slowed his movements. “You never wear something without making a statement.”

“It…” You tried to find the words. “It seemed fitting for tonight,” you said, forgetting your footsteps, the rhythm becoming second nature. 

A smile haunted your lips for a mere second. “Because I have not forgotten either.”

Jeonghan’s smile lingered on for you. 

The two of you did not speak much afterwards, basking in each other’s presences as the music progressed on. The cabaret dancers were growing wilder as midnight struck, enough time to become rowdy, furthering the chaos their movements had elicited. What was once whispered conversations, hesitant footsteps had familiarised into old friends as you two swirled and swirled, taking no heed of the people that stopped and stared at the centre. 

The actor’s hushed chuckles had become boisterous laughter in your arms, drumming his fingers against your back. You relished in each touch, heightened by the alcohol thrumming in your veins, yourself swaying your head to the beat. 

You were beginning to fly. 

After an eternity of being imprisoned, a certain someone had opened the locks to your cage, setting you free. You had grown wings of joy, of restlessness, and now you were flying in his hold, floating in the atmosphere of his eyes. Your heart was so light, drifting like the bubbles in your champagne glass, slipping past its rim, almost staining your dress and his suit multiple times. 

You tried to offer compensation for your carelessness, but he refused it outright, lips brushing against your ear. “Stain a thousand suits if it means you will come back…” his words were slow, stained with alcoholic truths. “If you’ll truly come back.”

Your laugh tickled his neck. “No one will have me,” you whispered, ironically sanguine for a fact so bleak. 

His pull had your shoulder touching his, all space near snuffed out. 

His plea had your hand in his turning limp. 

“Don’t say that, chérie…because it’s not true.”

Instinct had you retracting a little, staring at him. The ache in his eyes could have broken your heart. 

It must not have been that long, but it felt like forever and more, looking at him as if he had uttered a revolutionary speech, shared a secret of the universe. Time seemed to have slowed around you—perhaps an effect of the champagne, but you chose to be fantastical—the saxophones muted, the people quietened, and the lights dimmed.

This was a shot—a scene from the past, and at any moment there would be a director shouting action! in the corner, and it would all begin.

The fantasy would live on. Your downfall would become a non-existent event, and everything would be okay again.

It was in that exact, fated moment, when you heard a distant noise which stopped your vision.

A noise which was not of your dreams, but of your nightmares.

CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!

Jeonghan saw your eyes freeze over, body stilling under his hold. Frightened whispering spread at the back of the crowds, where the entrance was situated.

A distant actor’s exclamation had the rest scrambling.

“Who let the fucking press in here?!”

In an instant Joshua had made his way to the front, confusion and frustration mixing in his features. “What is going on?!” he demanded, the unforgettable camera flashing on the first layer of guests. “How the hell did they manage to sneak in here?!”

As the owner squeezed his way past, the rest of the guests groaned in agitation, even the cabaret dancers slowing down their enchanting routine. You did notice a damn thing, though, because the click! click! click! was ringing in your mind like the echoes of a gong, your entire body was constricting, your hand was tightening upon your partner’s, your breathing was going ragged—

“_____.”

The reporters were here. 

The media had found themselves a jackpot with Jeonghan’s private party, but the moment they caught you, it would be over. There would be nothing left as they will take your pictures, confirm your attendance in circles, drunk-dancing with your ex-boyfriend at his party, standing too close for comfort, and it would all be fucking over. 

“_____.”

This was something out of your nightmares. 

You could not move, refusing to listen to the voices beside you, unable to hear the commotion that had sprung up at the unexpected intrusion. Your vision had dazed out, mouth parted, tongue dry, and you could do nothing as your legs threatened to buckle. 

Only the voice of one man brought you out of your stupor.

“_____.”

A jolt coursed through you. 

“Come with me.”

He tugged on your enclasped hands, made to move in an opposite direction, but your body was still rooted, still amongst the crowds that went towards the flashing cameras. 

“I…” you could barely bring your voice to the surface—cowering down your throat, refusing to rise. “I-I…they’ll get me…”

“_____.”

His fingers tightened within yours. 

“Do you trust me?”

Again, the fated question.

How could you have answered him, when your tongue had abandoned its practice? How could you provide him with a response when your world was collapsing around you, the clicking of the cameras, the shouting of the reporters taking over your very senses?

But then his hands were upon your face, urging you to look at him. The intensity of his eyes could have brought you to your feet.

“Do you trust me, chérie?”

You parted your mouth.

Perhaps in another lifetime, you would have died underneath his fingertips. The press would have procured pictures of Jeonghan gaping at your decorated corpse, and his birthday would be remembered in the pages of celebrity gossip for the rest of his days.

But Jeonghan did not offer disaster—he did not show you further downfall in his path. What the man before you offered was an opportunity.

A chance to escape your doom.

You would have been the greatest fool in the world not to accept.

Especially when he looked so damned desperate to give it to you.

Your nod was barely a dip of your head.

“Help me, Jeonghan.”

That was all the man needed.

Letting go of you, he instead grabbed onto your hand, enveloping his slender fingers with yours. Looking over to the exits beside the stages, chaos heightening, he knew exactly where to go.

With one determined tug, he snapped you out of your spell.

His hand was your anchor as he led you against the current of actors, singers, all his celebrity friends. Slipping through with the slight-empty gaps, the two of you weaved your way to the furthest doors, the actor snapping it open with his free hand. Quickly he ushered you through thin hallways, a plethora of costumes, make-up kits, accessories spilling on the floor, hooked to the walls, but they were paid little mind. Once you both reached the final door, he resorted to kicking it open with his foot. No one was outside at the back of the huge establishment, only the Parisian sky, lighting the way to wherever your saviour was taking you.

Mumbling under his breath, he suddenly let an ah! escape as you saw his familiar sleek Bentley, camouflaged from the night. Perhaps the driver had seen you both hurrying to the car, because as Jeonghan clutched the door handle, it swiftly opened. You were lucky your gown was unharmed with the way you were ushered inside, gathering your velvet skirts to allow him space to settle beside you.

Clapping his hand against the driver’s seat, he voiced out orders in rapid, breathless French, you too overwhelmed to try and translate. Your heart was beating much too quickly, pounding in your ears from the swift exit. You had to wait a long time to settle, silent as the car revved to life, speeding out of the back entrance of the Moulin Rouge, away from the chaos. 

The roads were largely empty, thanks to the night’s growing age, the better population gone to sleep and forget the events of a rather uneventful evening.

For you, though, there would be no sleep.

For you were wide awake, looking out of the window, rooted in your position as you tried to calm your nerves. The shock had made you sober for those minutes of panic in the establishment, but as the ride kept driving to an unknown destination, you began to calm down, breathing deeply with every turn of the vehicle.

Perhaps it helped much that there was no conversation in the car, no questions about whether you were all right, whether you needed anything. 

The sole help you needed—which you received—was his hand, still entwined with your gloved one. 

You wondered whether his fingers were still warm, like how they were, ghosting along your back. 

You dared not glance at him, in case your question would show on your face. 

The roads began to look more familiar, you recognising where he was taking you. The statue of the general towered over your vision once more, and the car slowed to a stop.

Without the sounds of the engine, the silence had become much louder. 

The actor decided to break it first.

“We’re here.”

Right.

You nodded, albeit absent-mindedly.

He turned his head to the hotel, opposite his side, and opened the door.

Your hand and his were still intertwined. 

With a soft tug, he brought you out of the car, taking great care of your dress as it fell out in swaying folds from the seat. Snapping the door shut behind you, he bid his chauffeur to wait.

Taking a second-long glimpse at the Ritz, he then caught your unsettled gaze. “I will go back to the party��apologise to Shua for my hasty exit, and let Seungkwan know that you’re safe.”

He made to turn.

Your hand refused to let him go.

Feeling the tug of your fingers stopping his return, he faced you again, an inquisitive look upon his features.

You slipped out a request.

“Stay.”

Jeonghan’s eyes widened.

Swallowing hard, you looked down at your hands, continuing because the silence was unbearable. “I know this is a bit sudden…I understand that, but I hate how the night turned out and…I don’t know, I…” 

Your free hand gestured towards the hotel. “I have wine in my room. It’s not much, but…” You glanced up at him, trying to muster a little earnestness. “I would hate that your birthday ended with you running away…helping me run away.”

You watched him raise his brows, and you fought the urge to avoid his scrutiny. You could tell he was uncertain, with the way he pressed his lips together, deep in thought. His hair swayed gently in the late night breeze, the sides of his fringe half-covering his vision, and you could only wait as he weighed in the cons of your invitation.

Because now you realised it was a bad idea, and maybe you were still drunk—you had never made a good decision in your life when your mind was disarrayed with alcohol.

But then he answered you, and your decision proved to be perfect.

“I guess I wouldn’t mind some more wine.”

Sober you would not have smiled so quickly at his answer.

Sober Jeonghan just might have—but he, too, was in a state much like yours.

Turning, he updated his chauffeur with new instructions, and this time you listened; the latter was urged to drive back to Moulin Rouge, where he would inform Joshua and Seungkwan of his and your whereabouts. Both of you watched the sleek black Bentley drive away, fading away into the Parisian roads.

The film noir star turned to you. He raised your hand in his. 

“Lead the way, then.”

With your spirits higher than they had been the entire night, you obliged him, walking to the entrance. Pushing the doors open, the both of you tried to avoid showing your faces, but it was fortunate enough that no one was around to catch you both.

The journey to your room was a short one, but you still took your time, making sure your gown did not make you stumble. Your company’s hand was much needed, because you were a little unsteady, gloved hands grabbing onto walls, clutching your doorknob tighter than usual. 

Unlocking the door with your free hand, you pushed it open, entering first. You pulled him inside, and he regarded his surroundings. The mess in your room did not clean itself up in your absence, and you had to toss some clothes closer to your wardrobe with your heel, where they had made a pile next to your bed. “I was in a hurry,” you reasoned, but you could tell he did not believe you in the slightest. 

“Here,” you said, pointing to the chairs beside the window. “Sit over there.”

Obeying you, he crossed the distance, only to be stopped once more by your grasp. This time, he had to object. “Your hand,” he voiced out, tugging on the hold. “You’re going to have to let go of me.”

It was then you noticed truly how long you had been holding onto him. 

Slowly, you unravelled your fingers from him, he settling into one of the chairs. You did not like how empty your hand became, despite the gloves masking any real touches. 

“Missing my touch already?” you heard his feline question, and you realised you had been staring at your hand, flexing and unflexing. 

Cheeks heating, you got out, “Never!” before turning your back on him. Searching for your secret bottles, you reached down next to the bed, underneath the side-table. They were well-hidden in the past, when your agent would scour your surroundings to take them from you. Grabbing one of the four, you read the label, satisfied with the quality. 

Screwing open the cap, you looked around for any fresh glasses. “Let me phone up room service.” Walking over to the dainty, circular table in front of him, you brought the bottle down. “There’s nothing to pour this in.”

“No, don’t fret yourself. We can drink from the bottle.”

“Oh.” You looked down at your dress, suddenly feeling much too formal. “I’ll be with you in a minute, then,” you began, gesturing to the bathroom. “I need to get out of this—”

“_____.”

You paused.

He jerked his head towards the empty chair. “Don’t take that dress off. Not while I’m here.”

Your hands at your sides went limp. All you could say again was, “Oh.”

A raised brow. “What are you ohing for? Did you not wear it for me?” He flicked the bottle cap off the bottle, watching your fluster. “At least let me enjoy the sight till I leave.”

You would have hoped he would not see your unease, reflexively touching the back of your neck. Quickly you settled in your chair, waiting for him to take the first sip. 

When he was done, he stretched his arm, enough for the bottle to reach your fingers. Receiving it, you decided to take a hearty chug. “My goodness,” he commented, ushering you to return the bottle. “Perhaps we should return to the party. At least we won’t run out of wine there.”

You smacked your lips together, sticking slightly from the alcohol. “I feel awful about that, by the way.” You locked your hands together upon your lap. “Making you run away from your own birthday.” 

“Don’t worry yourself,” he assured you, “The moment those journalists crashed the place, I was going to leave.” A second swig of the bottle. “I wager the party’s dispersed by now.”

“The fucking press,” you cursed low, “Ruining a perfectly good evening.”

That had the actor cocking his head. “Perfectly good evening, you say?” he repeated. “The _____, enjoying herself out of her hotel room? Interacting with others, and relishing the attention?”

“That is not true!” you protested, snatching the bottle from him. “It was not as if I made any proper conversation with anyone there.”

“Well that was because you spent all your precious conversation on me.”

“Don’t make me regret leaving this hotel,” you warned, earning a chuckle from him. “Besides…I didn’t want to talk to anyone else.”

This time, you enjoyed the thrum the wine brought to your senses. “You know something funny?” He lifted his brows, urging you to go on. “I didn’t even give you a birthday present.” You brought the bottle upon the table, frowning. “Well, I suppose that is not funny, more rude, but…”

Jeonghan took a longer swig of the wine than usual. He took his lower lip between his teeth, taking in the cherry-coloured residue. “Your company was what I wished for…not your gifts.”

Your breath paused at that comment.

“I…I see.”

He decided to take another turn, gulping down the alcohol. He smacked it down on the table’s surface, groaning through his nose. “Fuck,” he whispered. 

“Jeonghan.”

Sliding the bottle to you once more, he hummed. “Yes?”

You wondered whether you should ask the question that lingered on your tongue. 

Glancing down at your hands, you knitted your brows. “Um…how did you manage…you know…when you were struggling back then?”

An uneasy pause. “In what sense?”

“Well…” Smoothing out the fabric of your gloves, you tried to continue. “I mean, you went through this once, right? You know…during our….”

A harsh hum. “Yes, I remember.” 

A harsher intake of breath, which had you grabbing the wine bottle. His voice entertained your ears as you drank. “I won’t lie to you, it was difficult…not everyone tasted success as quickly as you did.”

Was that meant to sting? Perhaps it was not his intention, but you still felt the bite. “I suppose what helped was that once you’re at rock bottom…there is no other way but up.” He folded his leg over the other, crossing his arms. “The one thing that kept me going was that I knew it would get better…thankfully, it did.”

“But what did you do?” you pressed. “What did you do which changed everything?”

He pretended to ponder, but his answer came to him as instant as the million clicks of the Moulin Rouge cameras.

“I stopped hiding, _____.”

You could not avoid him any longer.

“Not that I ever really went anywhere, but…” He shook his head slowly, as if acknowledging the events of the past. “Yes, I…never left. I stayed, and I fought for a place in the industry. I went to hundreds of auditions, knowing what the papers were saying about me.”

The word slipped out before you could stop.

“Why?”

He held you captive in his stare for a minute, releasing his folded arms. Sensing his next moves, you gave him the bottle. This time was the longest swig before he held it to his chest. 

“Because I deserved it. Because I knew I deserved better than what I was given. Nobody should dictate my fate.”

The grave earnestness of his gaze made you unable to respond. “And nobody should dictate yours either.”

Maybe if you were sound of mind, you would have accepted defeat. Listened to the ends of his declaration, and basked in the late-night silence.

However, something in you had to confess your true feelings.

“I want everything back to normal.”

Your vision blurred slightly. “I just want to act again…I didn’t realise how much I missed it…” You took the bottle, the contents less than half. “You say that I cannot let people dictate my fate. Acting is what I want. But these people are stopping me.”

You gulped down the alcohol, helping little to soothe your nerves. “I want to be in front of the cameras, and become another person entirely. Is that even normal?” A scoff. “I mean, I am an actress, but…recently the urge to be someone I’m not is so tempting.” Another swig. “Maybe if I could just become my character in some long-ago comedy, some flighty heroine out of my previous romance…maybe then I will not be so hated. Maybe then I can live someone else’s destiny.”

Your hands swirled the wine which was left, fingers tightening around the neck. “People don’t fall in love with the actor. They fall in love with the character. People never truly loved me, Jeonghan, they loved what I created for them. Call me sick and twisted, but I want to be loved like that again.”

The man listened, feeling his chest tighten at your confession. He dared not say a word, though, lest you stopped—lest you hid yourself from him.

“I want to be loved again, Jeonghan. So what if it isn’t real? It was real to me.” A ragged sigh escaped your lips. “Alas, these people do not want me anymore…and this is what I have to accept. That is my fate.”

As you made your tongue rest from your rambling, you did not notice Jeonghan furrow his delicate brows, frowning at the words which rested within the room. 

He could not have this be your resolution.

“_____.”

You did not respond, drinking. 

“You can be loved again…if you just accept it.”

Smacking your lips together, you brought the bottle his way. “Hmm.” 

You were tired—the wine had furthered your daze, and you knew if you took in another drop you would lose your senses. That could not happen; not when your ex-lover was seated opposite you, as drunk as you were, looking at you just as he used to all those years ago. That alone was amplifying your nerves. 

His voice was akin to the jazz that played at Moulin Rouge. “You want to know something?”

A lift of your chin. “What?”

Unfolding his leg, he leaned in, spreading his legs apart. “I didn’t love you for who you were on television…all those years back.”

You could not look away from his heavy-lidded eyes. “I fell for who you truly were. None of those roles that you played so well, none of those scripted interviews…nothing of that superficial nonsense. 

“I loved you. Only you.”

You felt the city go silent.

The cars that may have rushed past distantly had been quietened, the music from other rooms ceasing to play. Even the stars paused their twinkling, deathly still as they watched through your window the scene that awaited the two of you.

Your mouth parted.

It was all too much.

Suddenly, it was too much, too quickly—this man, seated before you, drinking wine with you, listening to you ramble as drunkards do. It was all too much. Too good, too beautiful, too precious. 

“Fuck.”

You shot up from your seat, chest rising up and down, needing to breathe in the room’s oxygen before you collapsed. “I must…” you swallowed the lump in your throat. “I must get more wine.”

He watched you stumble to your bedside again, he, too, standing. “Wait—”

“No!” you exclaimed, too instantly as you looked over your shoulder. “Just…wait. Stay where you are.”

You felt him stay put behind you—his eyes never left your back, though, as you continued your shaky way to the side table. Once again you knelt down, taking hold of the second bottle. 

All you had to do now was get up. 

Stand on your two feet, and face the history residing in your ex’s eyes.

I loved you. Only you.

Brows drawing together, you took a deep breath. Trying to calm your nerves.

It did not work in the slightest. 

Especially when your vision was blurring, and when you realised there were tears forming, there was no chance in the world that you could face him.

His voice slipped into your head.

“_____.”

You could not take it.

There was no leash to your tongue anymore. The words that had been bubbling to the surface could have no restraint—not when he said your name with a tenderness that you had been aching for years. 

So, as you slumped to the floor, bottle in hand—your back to the man who you owed too much—you blamed the alcohol in your veins as you exposed yourself.

“I missed you, Jeonghan.”

There.

There it was.

Out in the open, with nothing to undo it.

The actor, on the other hand, would have rather died than have you reverse such a declaration.

I missed you, Jeonghan.

His name on your lips set something alight in him.

He wondered whether he had dreamt up your confession.

You were both so drunk—he had seen you delude yourself, create stories in a booze-inflicted daze, and he would play along, because he could not be the person to shatter your illusion.

But now the roles were reversed. He must be dreaming, conjuring this fantasy.

It was his doubts that fuelled his question.

“What…what did you just say?”

He waited.

Waited for you as you gathered every atom of strength in rising, velvet skirts unfolding as you stood, unopened bottle in your gloved hand.

He waited as you gulped down the last of your bravado, slowly turning to face him—the shock which smacked his beautiful features had you spluttering your words again.

“I-I…I really missed you.” 

Jeonghan still had trouble believing.

Perhaps he finally understood the extent of your alcoholic troubles. Perhaps delirium was a symptom, but his fantasies were being extra cruel to him tonight.

So he took a hesitant step—two, three steps towards you. Each foot closer was hesitant, gentle, as if he was stepping on glass, terrified the world beneath him would shatter. You dared not move, fearful of your senses, as unpredictable as the emotions behind the man’s face.

When his shoes caressed the ends of your gown, he stopped himself. One more step, and he could be a hair’s length from you, 

He cocked his head, chest tightening. “Really?” he got out, quiet as the city beyond you.

You could barely breathe, but you made yourself speak—it was now or never. 

“So much.”

The actor’s curse was low—grating against his teeth.

This time, he allowed his gaze to dart over your features—the glazed, frantic eyes, the taut brows, anticipating his response. He wandered down to your lips, and could not help settling there for a moment. If he stepped a little closer he could taste the wine-stained confessions that settled on your mouth. The very thought had his insides singing. 

His heavy stare had your stomach surging. “Jeonghan,” you whispered. 

His hands flexed and unflexed, aching to reach out—more so when you said his name.

“I really want to kiss you, chérie.”

Your brows twitched upward. Instinctively, your eyes rooted to his lips, his tongue running across the bottom. You had half a mind to follow the trail with your own mouth.

“What’s stopping you?”

And as he took in your words, the true implications behind them—as his eyes locked with yours for a second, you knew then and there the answer to your question.

The answer, which Jeonghan bestowed as he closed the final distance. 

Your ex-lover wasted no time as he held your face in his shaking hands and enveloped his lips with yours. 

It was as if the entire universe sighed in relief. 

Although your lips had not touched his for years, the way they moved harmoniously with his would have made it impossible to prove such a claim. It was as if you were welcoming back a long lost friend from the wilderness, greeting an ancient connection, strayed from the threads of time. It was second nature to kiss him back, holding onto the lapels of his blazer as you pulled him closer. 

It was like the beginning of the decade once more, on similar, half-drunk nights like this when this exact dream of a man swooped you into midnight corners and stole the breath from your lungs. These memories began to unravel the more his mouth encircled yours, teasing you open, aching to explore you.

He repeated his antics of years ago, rendering you breathless. You did not pull away, holding onto his mouth as if he would leave you forever. His hands travelled down, resting upon the sides of your neck, caressing your skin, as he pulled away to your utter misfortune.

You gasped for air, only able to stand due to the iron grip on his blazer. “…missed you, Jeonghan,” you said once more, the soft confession fanning his lips, but you did not realise it. Everything was becoming a little blurred—a haze of events linking and unlinking, with the sole connection being the man you missed. 

Even though he heard you before, his gaze still softened. His thumb ran slowly along the wet seam of your lips, and your patience began to run thin. “I am…so glad you said that, chérie.”

And once more he was upon you, this time leading you further back until your velvet dress bunched at the side of the bed. His mouth never ceased its labour as he sat you upon the tousled sheets, as disarrayed as you as your hands travelled to his hair—your gloves robbed you of the feeling of his locks, as soft as the fabric covering your fingers. 

When he felt the silk of your gloves, he broke away from you, stunning to you a dumbfounded silence. He held your wrists, gently pulling you away from his raven hair, stroking the silk of your covering. “I want…” he was slowing his words, as if tasting each request that throbbed within his soul. “Off…I want this off…”

His words had you obliging him instantly. With your shaking hand—a trait he had noticed, and relished in—you slowly pinched the tips of the fingers, tugging back the silk till the glove was off. You flexed your now-naked fingers, almost embarrassed to see the man regard them as if you had stripped yourself bare before him. You would have done the second had his own aching hands not gotten your covered arm.

Jeonghan’s fingers were gentle, albeit a little clumsy, even as he tried to razor in his clouded focus upon the white silk. Slowly, but surely, he pulled on the fabric, and his eyes savoured the glove, smoothly sliding off your arm. 

Your skin was revealed underneath the moonlight, and you felt the actor’s tremble of his fingers as they enveloped one of your hands, raising it to his lips. His mouth was warm as he kissed your palm, finally able to revel in the warmth of your touch. The action was so intimate you had to say something, anything, but before you could even open your mouth, his heavy stare raised to yours, and had you falling completely silent.

His eyes darted upon your Dior gown, completely without shame as he drank in the details of the dress, the diamonds, and how you carried the entire look—the moment you had stepped into Moulin Rouge, and now, in front of him, tousled with your stained lipstick, and a frantic stare rooted to him.

His gaze could have set you on fire as he held both of your hands, fingers never stopping their climb upward. 

“You look…truly divine in that dress.”

This time, you blamed the alcohol for the truth that escaped you as his hands held your face, urging you closer to him once more. 

“I wore it just for you.”

That was enough for him to curve the corners of his lip upward—even the devil could not feign the drunk pride that exuded from his smile. 

“I know, chérie…I know.”

And he dove straight back in.

This time, in the midst of his heated, smug kisses, you felt his tongue teasing along your lips, and your soul nearly abandoned ship. You could not open up fast enough, letting him slide inside, taste the wine that stained your own tongue. Your groans were broken as he swirled his tongue with yours, sucking slightly on it with his mouth, a dull throbbing inside of you which had not felt such pleasure in such a long time. They did not stop as he continued, smiling against your mouth.  

You were so wrapped up in him, enveloping him in your arms, even more desirable since you truly felt his hair underneath your fingertips. His locks were silkier than your gloves, softer than the velvet of your dress. There was no room for space between you two, you half in his lap with every inch closer you had crept in between heated touches. You wanted him all over you, more so when, with a carnal desperation, he pushed you further into the sheets. Breaking away from your mouth, he planted open-mouthed kisses upon your jaw, trailing slowly down. 

His fingers crept upon your waist, trying to feel you under this dress, trying so ardently to break you out of it. You could not believe that you would have damned your precious Dior to bare yourself before him, broken your diamond necklace to allow him better access upon your neck. The delirium caused by the alcohol morphed into delirium caused by his hands, his mouth, his incoherent mumblings, praising you, relishing you. 

At this point, even you could not contain the voices of pleasure that slipped out of you, sighing softly at every touch of his lips upon your skin. “Jeonghan…” you whispered out, feeling an ache around your core. “Jeonghan, please—”

The said actor let out a soft moan at your pleading. “Please what?” Another kiss planted upon your neck. “What do you want?”

“I…” 

You! 

You! you wanted to say, because it was the absolute, unadulterated truth. You wanted him near you, on you, fuck, inside you. You wanted him desperately, more than all the riches you had craved for in your youth—perhaps, deep inside, you would have forgiven the loss of your fame if it meant you could be wrapped around your ex-lover forever. 

Yet the alcohol had your words all jumbled, mind all dishevelled. Your eyes could not even decipher the full clarity of his beauty before you, and you blinked back, trying to focus on his face. In the corner of your mind, fatigue began to appear.

But you remained stubborn. Held onto whatever part of his you could latch on to and whimpered, “I want you, Jeonghan.”

You took in the wildfire of lust that set ablaze in his eyes.

You could have jumped with joy.

Colliding against each other once more, you damned your concerns as you revelled in the actor’s hands, swiping up the heavy folds of your gown till your legs were exposed, the velvet bunching at your waist. He offered rest to your love-bitten throat, taking a peak at the black lingerie that was revealed, and his jaw going slack had you trying to close your legs in sheer embarrassment.

His hand upon your thigh stopped you. “Come on, mon ange,” he began, spreading your legs further apart. “Why be shy with me now?”

When you tried to avert his penetrating stare, his two fingers fell to your chin, turning you to him. “You said you wanted me, no?”

God. You decided to go limp underneath his touch, and he let out a rasping chuckle, settling between your legs. He leaned into you, his hair tickling your cheeks.

“Then have me,” he whispered. 

Fuck.

You were never refusing his order.

Jeonghan was about to slip past your slick underthings, take your lips with his own, ruin and salvage you upon the bed with no one but the stars watching.

That was when the loudest knocking you had ever heard thundered on the hotel door.

“_____! PLEASE TELL ME YOU ARE INSIDE!”

Your eyes nearly popped out of your sockets, the actor’s head whipping to the entrance. 

“JESUS, _____, YOU BETTER NOT BE PASSED OUT ON SOME RANDOM STREET—!”

“Son of a bitch,” you got out, your fingers sagging down to the blazer. 

“Is that…” Jeonghan’s brows knitted in thought. “Seungkwan?”

The deafening knocking continued, pounding your head into aching. “Maybe if we stay quiet he will leave,” you mumbled. You, however, were well aware of the foolishness of such a suggestion.

The agent’s rapping only increased in tempo. 

“I HAVE A FEELING YOU ARE IN THERE! IGNORING ME!”

A dire shame that your friend knew you so well.

“Perhaps we should let him in.” You were met with a defeated stare, slight amusement staining his vision. “I fear he will kick the door down, and the Ritz staff will finally have a reason to throw you out.”

You groaned. “Jeonghan!” 

“JEONGHAN?! DO I SOUND LIKE FUCKING JEONGHAN TO YOU…In retrospect, that should be taken as a compliment…”

“Damn it,” you hissed, “Bastard heard me.”

When the beautiful, half-drunk man began to ease himself off you, his hands furthering from your lingerie, all the drowsiness that you had pent up completely vanished.

You were going to murder Seungkwan.

Heaving off of the bed, head pounding harder than the knocks on the door, you grabbed your skirts, thundering to the entrance of your hotel room.

Twisting the knob, you thrust open the door, finding your agent’s raised fist, ready to tear down the wood. 

He caught sight of your dishevelled appearance, and twisted his lips in a frown.

“What the hell took you so long!” he began shouting already, stepping past you and going inside. “I was beginning to think you had died—!”

He stopped—stared at your guest, who was as dishevelled as you were—noticed the lipstick stains on his usual coral mouth, glistening. Then, he whipped his head to you, noticing how your mouth was more swollen—as if it had been softly bitten. 

Seungkwan slapped his hands to his mouth.

“Oh, stop it!” you exclaimed, suddenly wishing the roof would fall on your head. 

The film noir star walked closer to the two, fixing his blazer. “Sorry for keeping you waiting,” he said, raking his slender fingers through his hair. “We became a little…distracted.”

Your face burned hotter than the summer sun. “No, no! I need no apologies!” the agent immediately countered, raising his hands in surrender. “In fact, let me apologise for, um…stopping you both!”

“Oh, Jesus!” You pointed at the door. “Leave us already!”

“No, _____, it is alright,” Jeonghan assured you, glancing at the clock. “I fear I must leave anyway. If Seungkwan has just arrived back, then Joshua is probably still at Moulin Rouge, taking care of the press. I must let him know that you and I are fine.”

But you were glaring so violently at your friend that he could have squirmed. “No, no, Jeonghan, do not leave on my behalf! I will return to my room this instant!” 

He hurried to the doorway, turning back only to you. The implications of his scrutiny were clear. 

We will be talking about this.

“I must apologise again, Jeonghan, truly!” he called out once more, the tips of his ears turning crimson. “You both…carry on with whatever you were doing!”

Before you could cuss him out for such a suggestion, he was out of the room, cursing under his breath loud enough for the two of you to hear. 

At least it was not just yourself, experiencing those exact feelings. 

The room was much quieter—too quiet for you, now that you felt his presence near you, undisturbed by any more nosy agents. 

You bid yourself to speak. “So…”

His stare was upon you. “So.”

“You, um…are you really going back to see Joshua?”

He nodded, albeit more hesitantly. “Yes, I…I suppose I must show my face to the press or they will tear Joshua’s party to bits.”

“I see.”

You were exhausted. Even at that moment, when you finally turned your head to return his gaze, you knew that you were minutes away from collapsing to the floor. You had barely any strength left, the alcohol settled and refusing to leave your system. You could tell Jeonghan felt the same—with the way his cheeks flushed, his eyes darting to every feature of your face, your tousled dress. 

Even with the barrier of your slowly dying consciousness, you tried one last time to make him stay.

“Will you not finish what you started?”

The actor, instead of his usual, composed smile, grinned at you, a little more lopsided than he usually exposed. Even in his fatigued stupor, he could catch your incorrect taunt. 

He stepped closer to you. Close enough to reach out and take you in his arms should he wish it.

“Was it really me who started this, chérie?”

No—of course he was not.

“Besides…”

His hands reached out, holding your face in utmost tenderness.

“I cannot have you when we’re both like this.”

Your confusion had him explaining. “Look at us…we’re both so tired, and drunk, and…I tend to forget things if I take a glass too much at a party.” His thumbs stroked your cheeks. “I fear I might forget moments of tonight, too.”

You could not believe how that did not bother you. “So?” you asked quietly, holding onto his wrists. 

“So…I cannot accept it.”

“Why?”

There, at that moment, your ex-lover’s eyes darkened, ever so slightly. 

“Because I want you and I to be sober when I have you…I want you to remember my hands on your body, my tongue all over your skin.” His thumb inched closer to the corner of your mouth. “I want you to remember my fingers slipping between your thighs, one by one till you’ll beg me to replace them with my cock.”

Jeonghan’s finger ran along your spit-slick lips. “God, chérie, I need you to remember the exact moment when I’ll slide inside you, and make you beg for release.”

The words alone had a small whimper escaping your mouth. 

“Right now, we are both drunk beyond relief.” A small sigh left him, fanning your lips. “You will not even recall this conversation, let alone how much I want to fuck you.” 

He delighted at your reaction, your legs like soft jelly. “I cannot have that at all.”

If he was expecting you to respond, he was sorely mistaken.

All you could do was gape at him, drinking in the words that have left his mouth.

Your silence allowed him to pull away, slowly making his way to the door. 

He was nearly out of your room when you finally found your voice. 

“When will I see you again?”

He looked over his shoulder.

You hoped with all your heart that you would remember the promise in his smile. “Sooner than you think…if you will allow it.”

You returned his mirth. “Good.”

And that was all you needed—he, too, sensed it, and bid you a sweet, slurred adieu before leaving the premises. 

As you closed the door after him, trudging back to your bed, you caught sight of your silk gloves, settled on the sheets. 

Instinctively, you bit your lip. 

The actor was mistaken.

Because no matter how drunk you would have been, even more so than you were now, you would not be able to forget it had he crossed the final boundaries.

You would have remembered every detail he said you would not.

And although, in any normal circumstance, your memory had never served you well, at least it excelled in one matter.

You knew that, at the end of the day, Yoon Jeonghan could never be forgotten.

Especially by you.

LE FRANCE-SOIR, 11TH OCTOBER,1954

YOON JEONGHAN ONCE AGAIN DOMINATES ALL THE PRESS TOURS FOR NEW MOVIE!

You know it, readers! Our favourite superstar, Yoon Jeonghan, once again vows viewers and fans from all around the world with an exclusive new radio interview with French talk-show host Jean d’Arcy. He exposes a few details about his upcoming movie, his budding friendships with his co-stars, and charms the listeners with his witty answers! 

Many from the audience noticed how happy he has been ever since he stepped foot in Paris. He was all-smiles at the press shoot, and as well as lighting up the radio station during the interview with his joyous attitude. We at France-Soir are delighted to know that our city has brought such elation to the actor, but there is speculation that a romance may be in the works.

That’s right, readers! 

What we only need to find out is who managed to snag the most eligible celebrity in the world?

THE WEEK THAT WENT AFTER THAT FATED NIGHT WAS INDESCRIBABLE.

If there truly was a Lord that rested beyond the clouds of this atmosphere, then you would have very well fell to your knees and thanked Him for your reversal of fortune. It was as if the deities that controlled your life decided to cease their prejudices against you, and finally give you a taste of joy.

Never in your wildest fantasies did you think you would be fooling around with your ex-lover in your favourite place. Hell, if you got told that you would speak to Jeonghan again a month back, then you would have laughed at the messenger of such news and wished them the same misery you went through in your first weeks here. 

It was just so fun—away from prying eyes, hidden from the cameras. The two of you conducted secret meetings between his press tours, sneaking away from dinners to conjoin in moonlit corners, simply because the thrill of secrecy ignited the desire the two of you shared. What helped such stealthy rendezvous were the hours of your meetings—always after midnight, always leaving before the sun caught you both red-handed in each other’s arms.

Jeonghan did question the strange timings at the beginning, already certain of your answer. You tried to wave away his questions, but the beautiful bastard was persuasive. In the end, you confided your fear of being captured by the press, which confused him even further.

“Why are you so scared of the reporters catching you with me?” he had asked you one night, as the two of you shared a cigarette underneath the Arc de Triomphe. “If anything, won’t it help you if you’re seen with me?”

Your harsh chortling had him handing the cigarette to you instantly. You took a long drag, puffing out the smoke. “You may be untouchable, but I most certainly am not.” Tipping the ashes upon the pavement, you presented it. “My reputation is infectious, Jeonghan. The press would drag you down to my level.”

The man clicked his tongue, inhaling the tobacco. “Stop speaking about yourself like that,” he chided, “One scandal does not cause ruination.”

“I am right here,” you countered, your hands waving to your figure. “Ruined because of one scandal.”

“Well…” The corner of his lips quirked upward. “You haven’t had just one scandal.”

Your withering glare had him chuckling, smoke curling from his mouth. “No need to rub it in,” you muttered, taking the cigarette from him. 

“I’m only thinking of solutions here, darling.” He watched you lean against the stone monument. “You said you missed acting, no?”

You nodded, taking a drag. “Then have you responded to any casting calls recently?” he asked you.

Your smile was weak—weaker when the actor tutted. “I am trying, I promise!”

“Are you?” He received the cigarette once more. “I cannot say for the day calls, but I can confirm you haven’t attended any night auditions.”

“I have you to blame for that,” you mumbled, “Wasting my nights.”

The quirked brow that welcomed you had your stomach fluttering. “Wasting your nights, am I?” he repeated, the sultry baritone furthering your nerves. “Perhaps I should inform those journalists of my location…”

“You wouldn’t dare!” you immediately snapped, which had the man grinning “You know what, maybe it is time to put an end to these meetings!”

Jeonghan’s malicious stare only enhanced his amusement. “As you wish, mon ange,” he purred, taking a last drag before dropping the butt of the cigarette to the pavement, snuffing it out with his boot. “I will find some other disgraced actress to entertain at this hour.”

The scoff that escaped your mouth had him unable to contain his laughter. “Fine! But you won’t find a better disgraced actress than me, I can tell you that!”

You were so caught up in your petty temper that you did not notice your ex stepping closer, arms reaching out. When his hands slithered about your sides, pulling you closer, you blinked back to find him gazing down at you, his smirk softening. 

His locks nearly caressed your cheeks. “You know I want no other, right?”

You rolled your eyes at him, but the battle of restraining a smile was bound for defeat. “Of course,” you said, sarcasm clear in your voice. 

“Plus,” he added, drumming his fingers upon your clothes, smirk morphing once more, “After fooling around with the most disgraced actress in Hollywood, how could I seek scandal somewhere else?”

Your smile then became a flash of teeth. His laughter resonated around the Arc as you pushed him from you, crossing your arms as you seethed at him. “Ass,” you could only say, because everything else merely accentuated his delight.

Even that night ended on a sweeter note, despite Jeonghan’s attempts to get you to audition more frequently. At first, you thought that your greatest nightmare—another Seungkwan—had come alive, but at least he still retained the incessant pestering that only your agent had mastered so irritatingly well.

The rest of the week had managed to sail smoothly enough. 

Although you had still not seen Jeonghan as much as you would have liked, a part of you was delighted that he had not changed at all. With every conversation, every taunt, you were reminded of the glory days—when you two had first entered the relationship in your late teens, both novices in the acting field, and one look at him confirmed your suspicions of his genuinity. Of course he had matured—five years does tend to shift one’s youth—but even with that time between you two, his youth had not disappeared. It was almost masked beneath his charismatic demeanour, the image he conveyed to the public.

At least, with you, he shared a bit of himself.

With his premiere creeping closer upon him, he had to prepare, so spent a few less evenings with you than you had anticipated. You could not blame him, obviously, for investing that time in his upcoming movie, but a part of you wished that you could have been involved. Not that you needed to participate in his project, but hearing him excitedly recite the future events always had you biting the inside of your cheek, swallowing down the slight tinge of jealousy that stains your tongue.

It made you want to invest in yourself.

Was it not Jeonghan’s words, that you should not let others dictate your destiny? 

Yes, you were still doubtful of such a powerful declaration, but being in his presence made you want to try.

And trying, at this stage, was more than enough.

So, carrying out your ex’s suggestion, you let Seungkwan know of your new dedications, and urged him to find more auditions in the city. The man could not believe your changed attitude, but when he began to poke fun at it, you sent him a glare so withering he shivered out of your hotel room.

Despite your agent being the greatest son of a bitch known to man, he was damned good at his job—within the week, he disclosed to you information that had your jaw falling to the floor.

“A Choi Seungcheol film?!”

Seungkwan lifted his chin in pride, smirking in self-satisfaction. “Let’s say your agent has not lost his lustre yet. I still have my connections.”

“I must say, I’m impressed.” You waved your hands at him, sizing him up. “All this time, I wondered whether I had wasted my money on you.”

His expressive vanity faltered. “That better be a bad joke, _____,” he jeered, handing you the documents relating to the role. “The script has not been fully finalised, but Seungcheol’s assistant informed me that it’s very hush-hush at the moment.”

Taking the papers, you gave them a skim-over. “Why are they doing the auditions in Paris?”

“They said something about wanting to film the first locations in the city. I think the movie is set here.”

That had your excitement increasing. “Even better.” You looked at him, smiling. “Thank you for this.”

Seungkwan shrugged, but he returned your mirth. “Just doing my job.” He glanced at his wrist-watch. “Now, I must leave you. I have a sweet little date in an hour.”

If you thought landing a prestigious audition in your state was shocking, then that piece of information rocked you to your core. “You? On a date?”

A sour look. “Why did you say it like that?”

You raised your hands in surrender. “No, you’re right, I’m just…” You grinned, watching him inspect himself in your mirror. 

“What? Shocked that I don’t dedicate my entire life to your failing career?” Your agent scoffed. “If I’m sinking with your ship, let me at least indulge in my last moments.”

“Oh, please!” you mocked, joining him in the mirror. “I let you have fun!”

“For the sake of decorum, I will keep quiet,” he muttered. “And anyway, why berate me? Don’t you have a date with Jeonghan tonight?”

That you could not argue against. “I wonder where he’ll take me,” you thought out loud. 

“As long as I don’t see you both,” he said, fixing his waistcoat, “I will be satisfied.”

An incredulous look. “I hope your date doesn’t show up.”

“I hope the press ruins your night.”

“That was too far!”

“Do not expect rosy praises from me.” He turned around, tucking his blazer closer. “I am not your ex-boyfriend.”

“Thank the heavens for it!” you proclaimed, walking to the door. “Now will you get out already? I have to prepare.”

“Fine, fine!” Seungkwan strolled to where you stood, the hotel door wide open. “Don’t forget to read over the details, all right?”

“Yes, yes, I know!” you rushed, almost pushing him out. “You have a good evening!”

“Don’t forget!” he only exclaimed back before exiting the room, leaving you to your newfound knowledge. 

A chance to work in a Seungcheol production.

This could change your life.

Although you never had the chance to work with him in your career, the director had gained unimaginable fame for his movies. He had always been in demand in the industry before you became an actress, but after one blockbuster after another, every actor, even outside of Hollywood, wished for a chance to work in his films. 

The thought stayed in your mind throughout the day, comforting you through the evening, capturing your attention even when Jeonghan arrived to pick you up in the middle of the night. It was almost four in the morning, the usual time of your meetings, a time you had insisted on.

Sneaking out of the hotel, you instantly rushed into the familiar Bentley, car-door already open for you. Seeing the film noir star seated had you instantly lighting up. His hair was tied back in a small ponytail, flyaways framing his face as he released his hands from his leather jacket, a simple white shirt peeking out from the black exterior. He unfolded his legs at the sight of you, a dazzling smile morphing his coral lips. 

Leaning in, he held your chin and kissed you softly, humming against your mouth. Although it only lasted a few seconds, your head still spun as he broke away, licking his bottom lip. 

“Evening,” you got out in your daze. 

His effect on you had him incredibly smug. “Good evening,” he responded, stroking your chin with his thumb. “Are you ready to go?”

When you nodded eagerly, he pressed his lips upon yours, smiling against you. Breaking away, he straightened in his seat, ushering the driver to begin driving. Obliging instantly, the sleek vehicle drove out of the Ritz’s circle, reaching the main roads.

“Where are you taking me tonight?” you asked him as you observed the Seine, lapping against the banks. 

“Guess.”

Your mouth pressed in a line. “You know that I am terrible at guesses.”

“This, actually, is a very easy guess.”

You glanced at him, the city around you turning greener with the excess of trees, more and more appearing the closer you drove to your destination. “I will wait till we reach this mysterious place.”

Turning from the great gardens, the car crossed a great bridge, the Seine residing underneath the stone. Once crossed over, the ride began to slow, stopping just before the huge stretch of lawn, cut off from the car window. You would have looked out from your own window, but your view only offered the river, the real destination at Jeonghan’s side. 

The man stepped out from the vehicle, circling around to open your door. You eased yourself out, about to thank him when you turned to where he brought you.

Your head tilted up to take in the full sight of the Eiffel Tower.

It surprised you how tall it really was—you should not have been, considering you had seen it countless times in the past, but for some reason, you had forgotten how overwhelming the landmark was. A rush of breath escaped you, staring and staring at it as if it had just graced its presence this moment, and not over sixty years ago. 

Your ears caught Jeonghan’s French, muttering orders to the chauffeur to stay put, nearing you once again. “Let’s go,” he said, sliding his hand into yours. 

He led you away from the quay you both stood upon, boots touching the freshly-cut lawn of the Eiffel gardens. The only sound around you two was the autumn whistles of the wind, and the soft crunch of the grass beneath your feet. 

As you both walked closer, you turned to him, asking, “You’re not taking me up there, are you?”

Jeonghan’s eyes were rooted to one of the entrances, situated at either footing of the Tower. “So you’re good with guesses, after all.”

“But it’s closed.” You looked around, spotting some people working around the east pillar. “Aside from the workers there’s no one else around here.”

The actor tutted in a melodramatic fashion, tugging you to walk to the others. “Poor, sweet fool,” he began, swaying your enclasped hands, “Have you still not understood the benefits of being with the most famous man in the world?”

You could only shake your head at him. “Rubbing your advantages in again, I see.”

“Not rubbing them in,” he clarified, “But allowing you to exploit them.”

“Of course,” you said, fighting back your mirth. “Well, let’s see how this is going to work.”

The people that were overlooking the entrances perked up at the two of you, one of the women walking up. “Bonsoir, Monsieur Jeonghan!” she greeted.

“Bonsoir.” He eyed the tower looming right above them. “I made a special request to be taken up tonight.”

“Oui, oui, I remember…on the phone!” Excitement spilled from her features. “Pardon me, but I’m your biggest fan!” 

The man gave her a smile, thanking her profusely. She then turned to you, eyes widening. “Mon dieu…_____?”

You don’t know why that unnerved you. “The very same.”

Her gaze darted between you two—down to your entwined fingers. “Oh…” The shock that spread her face had you almost repelling your hand from his. “Certainement pas! You are back with her? After so long?” 

Her heightened questions attracted the attention of her colleagues, who were all surprised to see the two of you side-by-side. “It must be what? Trois? Quatre? Non, five years!”

You shifted on your feet, hand involuntarily tightening against his. When he sensed your growing discomfort, he opened his mouth, raising his hand to stop the incoming questions. “You must excuse us, but we don’t want to discuss these topics.” He then gestured to the Tower entrance. “We would appreciate it if you could take us up.”

The workers did not look like they were done with their inquiries, but of course, they had to comply with the actor’s wishes. “Bien sur…of course,” the first woman assured him, ushering the two of you forward. “Please, follow me.”

The Tower employees helped you through the security railings, slipping into the iron pillars. You were entered into a silver lift, lightbulbs sparking to life as you all went up. You stayed close to Jeonghan as the grating noise of the elevator continued, the guide watching you both intently.

You knew that the Eiffel Tower had two floors, but when you went past the second, you asked the woman. 

Jeonghan answered for you. “We’re going to the very top.”

Once you reached the final level, the lift door opened, leading you to a tightly-spaced, curved hallway, the views from below peeking beyond small holes of the container. A set of stairs greeted you, and as your foot landed on the first step, your date thanked the woman, letting her know that she may stay on deck. 

“Non, non, I understand! You need privacy with your…amourette, non?”

Amourette. A fling. 

He smiled, but this time it did not reach his eyes. “Oui…you may come back in a couple of hours.”

Nodding in acceptance, the guide went back into the lift. Once he saw her descend, he joined you as you both went up the stairs. 

You noticed his slight frown. “What’s wrong?”

“Hmm?” He shook his head absent-mindedly. “Oh, nothing.” He reached the top of the stairs, you following suit.

You were going to pester him further when the view hit you.

It was as if the entire world lay beneath your feet.

Beyond the thin, criss-cross railings, keeping you back, you beheld the entirety of Paris underneath you. Familiar landmarks, the loops of the Seine, entire buildings packed within ordered streets, etched a story before you. It was as if some great, god-like painter had outlined languid brushstrokes to depict the soft current of the river, carved out marble to erect the tall buildings in each square, brought out the finest tools to detail each and every tree, gallery, monument that your vision could create. Dazed, you walked along, fingers touching the railing as you spotted the Louvre, nestled in the walls of its Palace, the Moulin Rouge, all the places that acknowledged your presence, tasted your enjoyment, relished your memories. 

You did not realise how much you fixated on the view till Jeonghan’s voice made you jolt. You whirled around, and found him holding two champagne glasses. “Where did you get those?” you asked him. 

He jerked his head to the right—a small bar greeted you, about a dozen unopened bottles stacked neatly along the bar surface. “I had them bring the drinks out for us.”

“You really know the way to my heart!” you exclaimed, grabbing one glass from him. 

“I should hope so,” he murmured, walking over to the bar, taking out a bottle of champagne. He set the glass down, grabbing a corkscrew. Popping open the cork, a fizz of alcohol sputtered from the top, you inching back from its trail as it stained the iron deck. Once it fizzled out, filled your glass, topping his own before putting the bottle back on the bar. 

Taking a sip, you turned back to the glorious view. “Paris truly is beautiful,” you said, gazing over the horizons of the ageing night. “I think I forget sometimes, but tonight…”

“Hmm…truly sensational.”

But you knew he was not looking over at the city’s horizon.

Cheeks heating, you avoided his stare, looking at your treasured place. 

The two of you spent the next hour sipping your champagne, walking the full circle to take in every inch of Paris and her slowly waking citizens. Soon, bored with your current drink, you tried several bottles from the collection—from the rarest red wines to spirits, careful not to indulge in too much alcohol lest you ruin your night with your drunken stupor. 

It must have been a while before you informed Jeonghan of your recent good news.

He was over the moon.

“This is amazing news!” he proclaimed, raising his glass. “To you and the revival of your fame!”

“I don’t know about that,” you said, sipping your wine. “I mean, it’s just the audition. It’s not as if I’ve been offered the part.”

“Well, I know you’re going to get it,” he insisted. “You are the best actress I have seen in cinema.”

You kissed your lips, finishing your drink. “Now you’re just saying things.”

“You know I don’t just say things.”

That you did.

“Oh well,” you started, walking over to the bar. “I hope I do get the role, if only to shut everyone up.” You topped up your glass. “God, did you hear what that woman said of me? You are back with her?” you parrotted, amplifying the venom in your words. 

Jeonghan heard much more from that guide’s lips, too, but he did not share them with you—you did not need another comment to torment you. 

“The nerve,” you muttered, drinking your wine. “I will never forgive the press for the stories they made about our relationship.”

That comment had the actor pausing. He looked down at his rosé, swirling it in his glass. 

He wished he could say something about your declaration—in truth, the blame could not have been brought at the media’s door for the ending of his relationship with you, all that time ago.

But you were with him here—basking in his presence, drinking his alcohol, laughing at his jokes. Maybe another time, he will resort to difficult conversation.

So he only waved you off. “Don’t mind them, _____. What matters is that you and I are here now.”

“Yes, but…” You regarded the view. “This was the first time you and I were seen properly together and something was said about me.” You could help the sharp exhale. “It’s just…what would happen if we went out in daylight? When the whole world is watching us, judging us?”

He listened to you, taking in your concerns. He stepped closer to you, standing side-by-side, shoulders grazing against each other. 

As he watched the entire world—the world that only the two of you could see—he sipped his drink, letting his heart speak for him.

“Then we’ll damn the whole world together.”

You turned to him—but he was staring at the horizon, a sliver of sunshine peeking from its lining. 

You could not breathe. 

“Jeonghan…”

“Do you know why I brought you here today?”

Your hands interlocked with each other, holding the flute. “Was there a specific reason?”

He clamped his lips together, dipping his head. His hand reached out to the railing, pointing at the sun, shy, hesitant in its rise. The rays slipped out from the horizon, peeking out from the thousands of buildings that tried to hide it. “You see the sun?” We haven’t seen it together since we’ve reunited.”

Watching the day endeavour to begin, your confusion had you questioning him. “So?”

A moment had to pass before he continued. “Don’t you ever want to see me in the daytime?”

“Of course I do, but…” you pressed your lips in a thin line, swirling your drink. “I couldn’t take what they’d say about you and me.”

“I could take it for you,” he murmured. “If you would let me.”

Your next intake of breath was hitched—sharp. “They already say too much about me, Jeonghan. I cannot let you be a victim to it too.”

His nod was hesitant.

If only you would understand that he did not care.

He did not care a single a bit should the cameras caught him with you. Hell, he would have pressed his aching lips to yours, give them something to really talk about. 

He had to confess his growing desperation.

Sneaking around with you gave him great joy, but watching the sun’s light shine on your face, illuminating your skin…the sight brought him happiness the likes he had not felt in a long, long time. Perhaps you were not aware of it, but in his eyes, you were too talented, too brilliant to be hidden away in the shadows—be it the darkness of his favourite city.

You were always meant to be admired.

Swallowing the lump of cowardice, lodged within his throat, he reached out, holding onto your hand. 

Perking up, you gaped at his fingers enveloping around yours before focusing on him. 

“Whatever the tabloids write about us, whichever reporter takes pictures of us…it’ll all be in vain.”

His thumb gently stroked the back of your hand. “I lost you once before, chérie,” he muttered, voice lowering.  

“I cannot lose you again.”

Your heartbeat paused.

Halted for a few moments, dazed at the words that left the actor’s lips. As if time had mellowed twice over, you blinked back at him, each caress of his thumb sparking you alive. 

His gentle, melancholy gaze locked with yours. 

In that second, atop the highest peak in Paris, you witnessed the sun, now rising with more confidence, spill its light upon its subjects. The most special of those subjects, right before you, received its brilliance, lighting the dark irises of his eyes, making his skin glitter. In these moments, you let yourself forget that you were a disgraced, unwanted actress, harbouring feelings for a man who was supposed to be unattainable. In that singular moment, stretching to a thousand years, you believed in him.

In a world filled with lies, rumours and deception, you clung onto the one figure of truth.

Never had believing in a person been so easy.

“Jeonghan,” you whispered, gravitating closer to him. His name fanned his lips, and he broke the seam, gazing down at your mouth.

“_____,” he said right back, tenderly—desperately. 

You closed the fine distance.

Enveloping his lips with your own, his elated hums escaped him as he melted onto you, letting go of your hand and encircling his own around your waist. The kisses he had shared with you were ravenous, always aching to fill the absence of years between you, but this time, the burning fires had been soothed, mitigated by the movements of your mouth, slotting perfectly against him. His stray curls caressed your cheeks as he angled his head, delving deeper into you, savouring the way you tasted.

Perhaps you both would have stayed forever in this position, high above the prying eyes, but now the sun had left its sanctuary, shining brightly upon you two. You made yourself pull away, empty glass in hand as you clutched onto his leather jacket. 

You allowed yourself to confide in him as you said, “I liked it, you know.”

A teasing quirk of his brow. “The kiss? I sure well hope so.”

“That too, but…” You ticked your head at the view of Paris, and the sun shining upon it. “Doing this at dawn. I missed how you looked in the daylight.”

Jeonghan wished there was a way to capture such a precious comment and store it in his heart forever. 

He was about to say something when he heard rustling from beyond the stairs of the entrance. Gaze straying beyond yours, you, too, turned around, finding the guide at the foot of the steps.

“Ah, oh!” She exclaimed, witnessing your affectionate moment. “Désolé, sorry, sorry! I just wanted to let you know that the Tower will be opening to the public in a couple of hours.”

“Right,” the actor responded, his hold on you steady. “We’ll be with you shortly.”

As the guide scurried away to the lift entrance, a short huff of breath escaped you. “I wish we could have spent the day here as well.”

Slowly, as if it hurt to do so, he retracted his hands from your waist. “I know,” he agreed, taking your empty glass from you, setting them both atop the bar.

“Are you not important enough to rent out the Eiffel Tower for the whole day?” you drawled, earning scoffed laughter from him.

His fingers grazed your back as he led you down the stairs. “Next time, you can be responsible for our destinations.”

“I hope you will be satisfied with my hotel room, then,” you countered, smile never leaving your lips as the two of you entered the cramped deck, finding your way into the lifts once more.

The woman was there, closing the railed doors as the elevator began to go down. Her indecipherable gaze was upon you both, never quite leaving. “Monsieur, did you enjoy the views? She asked, hands locking in front of her.

“I have never seen anything so beautiful,” you thought out loud, already missing the skyline vision of the city. “I’ll be sure to return.”

All you received from your review was a hesitant smile. When Jeonghan agreed with you, her face lit up, as if Christmas had been announced a month early.

You furrowed your brows.

The way she acted around you was incredibly strange. Whenever you caught her looking at you, she would instantly avert your eyes, but you could not mistake the traces—hell, dollops of dislike that filled her gaze. You held onto Jeonghan’s hand a little tighter, scowling at the obvious favour for the actor before you. 

So you had your disapprovers beyond the media here. 

The lift down took another fifteen uncomfortable minutes, the only distractions being your date’s comments on the Tower, or his questions to the guide. Once you all arrived at the ground floor, the elevator doors opened, entering the welcome halls. 

“Enjoy the rest of your day!” the woman chirped at the man. She offered you a smile which did not reach her eyes. “Toi, aussi.”

Hmph. “Thank you,” you mumbled, Jeonghan dipping his head as the two of you made your way through the halls. 

As you heard a slight commotion from outside, you furrowed your brows. “Why is it so loud outside?” you asked. “Isn’t there still an hour till the Tower opens?”

“That’s what I was thinking,” he said, unable to check the windows too for the shutters were down. “Ah, well, it’s still early. I don’t think anyone will see us.”

Spotting the doors of the entrance, the two of you pushed them together, ready to return to your lives. 

That was when the worst possible drawback welcomed you at the foot of the pillar.

“Oh my fucking God—”

“There they are!”

“Finally!”

The mass of journalists scurried for their cameras, all their faces revealing the same shock as you and your ex-lover.

The cameras were raised, like zombies from the ground. 

You were offered one millisecond to blink back at the hundred black lenses, shutters snapping open. 

That was when chaos began.

Chaos, pure, tyrannical anarchy as a hundred click! click! clicks! of the cameras attacked you, accompanied by the saturated, white flashes. The flashes were the worst, making you cry out in surprise as you hunched over, like a criminal caught red-handed at the scene of the crime, like a cheat caught in bed with another. 

The lights were blinding, hurting your eyes, but the clicking had frozen you completely. This was the sound of your nightmares, and they had caught up to you—there you were, with the man who had not seen your worst, hounded by the press and reducing you to a creature unworthy of having a date up the Eiffel Tower. Your hands, reflexively, slapped to your ears, trying to drown the sound out, but to no avail; the media was a relentless entity, and it had found you with the one man they never even dreamt would be beside you.

You were destined for ruination.

Suddenly, your breaths were being snatched away, and what was an action so natural became impossible to overcome. Each shuddered inhale became shorter, harder, and the journalists even gasped at the way your mouth slackened, trying to engulf the oxygen that simply was not there.

You were going to die—this was the end, and a spectacular end one at that, worthy of an actress as volatile as you had become. You would crumble and collapse before the most famous man in the world, and he would watch in horror as a hundred journalists captured every moment of your suffering.

Among the hysteria of a thousand snappings of the shutter, and a million flashes of the lights, you felt a tug of strong arms around your shoulders.

A booming voice soared over the sea of cameras.

“Out of the fucking way!”

You did not have a moment to comprehend what was happening before the familiar hands on your arms propelled you forward—the wall of journalists split in half, making way for the seething actor, making your legs thunder down the pavement. You were not in control of your own limbs anymore. Completely at the will of another, your hands tightened against your ears as you heard orders to follow you. You did not listen to the murmurs of the man beside you, pressed against you as he led you out of the swarm of journalists. His eyes were razor-focused at the Bentley, stuck between the dozens of cars that had lined up against the quay. The trek was much slower, owing to the complete life-sucking shock you were experiencing, but if you and him could just get in the damn car—

“Jeonghan! Jeonghan, _____, just a few questions?”

“When did this romance revive?”

“Did _____ ask you out first?”

“Did _____ approach you?”

“Did _____ start this shocking relationship?!”

With every hateful question, Jeonghan’s rage grew.

For your sake, he kept his anger restricted in his gritted teeth and determined gaze, the car close enough to reach.

Wrenching open the car door, he nearly ripped it off its hinges, making his chauffeur jump at the start. “Get in, chérie,” he muttered to you, helping you inside, settling your curling mess beside him as he snapped the door shut. He turned to the man in the driver’s seat, voice booming louder. “We need to leave now!”

He did not have to repeat his order again.

Slamming his foot on the brakes, the chauffeur just managed to escape the horde of reporters, about to surround the vehicle. Instantly, you felt yourself jolt at the force of the car, undoubtedly breaking the speed limit as you were whisked out of the Eiffel Tower’s domain.

You, on the other hand, could not unhear the clicking.

The bright flashes tormented you in the car, not realising that your hands were still pressed upon your ears. Your breathing was still uneven, rasping out your mouth in hitched intervals, and if you curled anymore into yourself, you would have disappeared.

Perhaps that would have been best.

Jeonghan, endeavouring to calm himself from the reporters, took one look at your retreating figure.

His heart shattered in pieces.

Instantly his hands reached out, holding your wrists in his fingers, prying them away from your head. He tried to sit you up straighter, never letting go of you as he scanned your face, the lack of life prevalent in your features.

“_____….”

Your eyes darted to him. 

Jeonghan’s gaze began to twitch.

He turned to his chauffeur, already crossed the bridge over the Seine. “Take us to the apartment. We’ll be safe there—”

“No.”

He whirled his head to you.

Your stare had widened—slowly, you were shaking your head, gripping onto the bottom of the seat. “No.”

“_____, they are chasing after us.” He held your hand in both of his, trying to convince you. “They will not find us where I live—”

His speech was cut off when you repelled your hand from his hold.

“Take me back to the hotel.”

His brows knitted in confusion. “_____, they’ll know you’re there—”

“I don’t care.”

Your head still shook—your breathing was slowly normalising, but the complete lack of emotions in your eyes chilled the actor to the bone. 

“Take me back…now.”

He could only gape at you, his hands void of your presence.

Absentmindedly he carried the message to the driver, who then took the rigid turn into the Champs-Élysées, heading for the new destination.

The man endeavoured to gain a response from you, his own nerves rising from your heavy silence, not even deigning him a glance. The familiar, grand hotel was in view as the Bentley closened to the entrance, and your hand was already on the handle, anticipating the stop.

Jeonghan noticed instantly. “_____, wait—”

You did not wait for him to finish. The moment the car stopped, you hurled out of your seat. Slamming the door shut, you made to run into the entrances, biting down the urge to hold your face in your hands with every guest that watched your dishevelled appearance.

They were further shocked to find the film noir star getting out of the car, too, following after the likes of you.

His step was hasty, almost catching up with you when you whirled around, hand raised to stop him.

The look in your eyes made the man shiver.

“Don’t follow me in.”

With that, you turned your back to him, running past the grand doors of the Ritz. 

And even though every muscle in his slender body screamed at him to follow you inside, to the ends of the world, he could only stand still—mouth parted in shock, and eyes heavy with a loss.

The loss of a fantasy, and the possible loss of you and your faith in him.

LE FRANCE-SOIR, 12TH NOVEMBER, 1954

BREAKING NEWS: _____ _____ AND YOON JEONGHAN SPOTTED AFTER FIVE YEARS!

Who would have thought that you all would be seeing her name again? Not us! Well, we are about to rock your worlds when we give you this breaking news: once-superstar turned disgraced escapee _____ has finally come into view again, and with none other than her ex-lover Yoon Jeonghan!

That’s right—THE Yoon Jeonghan! 

The two lovebirds were spotted outside the Eiffel Tower, no doubt on a secret date, but their shocking relationship cannot be hidden any longer. Who would have thought, after nearly half a decade of zero contact, the two are tangled up in each other more than ______ was when she fist-fought her co-star! 

We are certain you all are wondering what has caused this absolute shocker of a reunion! Here at France-Soir, we have speculated that _____, unable to get out from her acting slump and continuous scandals, has come crawling back to our famed hero. Think about it—_____ on the fall, and Jeonghan on the rise—who would not wish their ex-boyfriend back in these conditions?

Readers have also expressed disappointment in Jeonghan for interacting with his infamous ex after so long. We assume that you are all concerned for his career, especially with the premiere of his upcoming movie just around the corner. 

Well, Yoon Jeonghan, if you are reading this (one can only dream!) then heed our advice—dump the phoney! Her scandalous reputation will only harm you. You would not want that again, would you?

This may be all we have for today, but not to worry, everyone. We will return with updates very soon. We have a feeling these two are only just starting.

YOU READ THE LAST WORDS OF THE COLUMN OF FRANCE-SOIR, CRUMPLING THE PAGES IN YOUR FINGERS.

With an uncontrollable rage, you ripped out the page, scrunching the page and throwing it across your room.

But that was not enough. 

Because the entire fucking magazine was riddled with no other news, pictures of yours and Jeonghan’s pure shock printed on every single side of the pages. 

You dropped the paper book upon the pile of dozens others.

Every single magazine in Paris had your picture upon it.

The disaster was upon you within two days. You knew you would not be able to escape it, but the exposition of you and the film noir star had rocked the world by storm. Every radio station, every television channel, every newspaper panel had written of you two being caught within the Eiffel Tower, all smiles and embraces. The public could not believe their eyes when they took hold of their preferred form of media, gazing or hearing the news. 

You and Jeonghan. The young lovers of Hollywood, doomed from the first time they ended their relationship, now continuing it once more. 

Although you anticipated the negative reaction, you were still shocked at the outpour of disapproval that came from the people.

Seungkwan, firstly, did not even wish to show you what others were writing of it, but he could not hide the truth from you for long enough. The outcries against you and your scandalous image, the lamentations against Jeonghan’s terrible decision to go along with the relationship you had somehow insisted on…that was not even half of the headlines. 

What surprised you the most was the protests against your ex-lover.

You had expected comments against you, but the complaints against your ex was something that threw you off. The negative reactions against his decision making, commenting on his poor choices, even going so far as to call him selfish for pursuing a relationship with you, especially with one of the biggest movies this year about to be released. You did not understand the responses that he received, since he was supposed to be untouchable. Even though you had predicted this would happen, it still did not lessen your shock. 

There was one element in common with all the complaints against him.

They still, in the end, placed the blame at your door.

Jeonghan should have known better than to become involved with _____.

Undoubtedly _____ was responsible for this relationship.

Why would someone like Yoon Jeonghan wish to reunite with someone like _____?

The last one stung for much longer than you wished.

Safe to say, in the days after your conflict with the press, you had not left your hotel room. 

When you first told Seungkwan of what had happened, you distinctly remembered the colour leaving his face. When he resorted to putting his head in his hands, you knew that things were about to take a turn for the worst.

It was bad enough to be caught in the busiest destination in Paris, but somehow the bastards in the media found out where you were residing at this moment—as of the past few days, the Ritz was hounded by the press everyday, waiting for you to come out, hand yourself to them like a sacrificial lamb. 

You were not going to let them win.

Whilst you were cooped into your hotel room, empty bottles plastered around you, you pondered on your situation. Paris as your sanctuary had been discovered, and was now being sacked. 

The evening had passed in the city, and you thought that the reporters were about to leave for the day when you saw the familiar Bentley driving in front of the entrance. Instantly you perked up, leaning into the window. 

With horror you watched as your film noir star left his car, snapping the door shut. 

His wavy hair was out, eyes hidden by the black shades perched on his delicate nose, a large trench coat hiding his slender figure as he strolled into the hotel, ignoring the million camera flashes upon him. His mouth was set in a hard line, his presence snuffed out as he faded from your view.

Fuck.

He was coming to see you. 

Suddenly, you whirled around to your room, in an even worse state than you last remembered. My God, he could not see you like this, visibly worsened since the last time he had laid his melancholy eyes on you.

Perhaps you could pretend you were not in the hotel.

The five minute wait from the entrance to your room was spent in such heart-wrenching anxiety that when the hard knocks on the door finally arrived, you jumped out of your skin, yelping out. 

There goes your original plan.

Taking a deep breath, hand resting on your stomach, you braved the steps to your door, shaking hand upon the knob.

You opened the door, facing the one entity you had been dreading.

One look at Jeonghan’s face, and you almost forgot everything that had happened.

His shades were off, revealing the shivering black pupils of his doe-like eyes, exposing such a panicked concern you could not help but part your mouth. He stood there before you, like a soul on its last threads of hope. 

He was going to say something when you heard the faint clicking of the cameras.

And then you remembered.

You remembered why you did not try to see him in the past days of this chaos; why you had resorted to surround yourself in these thick, 5-star walls, away from the world—away from him.

You steeled your gaze. “Why are you here?”

It was as if you had shot him. “Why…why am I here?”

But you turned your back to him, walking further into your domain. “You shouldn’t have come.”

His confusion had him absent-mindedly closing the door, following after you on instinct. “What are you talking about? I had to come, seeing as you won’t return my phone calls!”

Ah, yes. The constant ringing of your telephone in the past couple of days that you had dutifully ignored. You knew that it was no nosey journalists tormenting you, but the man you had feared to meet the moment the world realised where you truly hid.

You decided to evade his claims. “Those damned reporters have seen you now,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “Just you see what they’re going to write about in the papers tomorrow.”

Jeonghan’s voice had you near-flinching. 

“You think I give a fuck about the papers?”

On another evening you would have adored this comment—in another lifetime, where your every thought did not revolve around the flashing of the lights, the snapping of the shutters, and other people’s opinions.

“Of course you would say that!” you snarled, turning around. “Not that they’ve said anything about you!”

“Oh, they have said plenty about me,” he muttered. 

A scoff. “So you do give a fuck about the papers, then?”

The man’s coral lips pressed in a hard line. “I do not give a fuck when I have greater problems at hand.”

“What problems do you have, Jeonghan?” you demanded, taking a step closer. 

He matched your vigour. “I have this huge damned problem of why you are ignoring me.”

“I have no idea what you mean.” 

“Don’t…” he paused, taking a breath to steady his speech. “Don’t lie to me.”

You gritted your teeth. 

So it cannot be avoided. 

“Why did you take me in the daytime?”

He narrowed his brows. 

“What?”

“You knew this would happen,” you continued, agitation rising with each word that left your mouth. “You knew of my reputation, yet you still risked taking me out at dawn. Why did you decide the day and not the night?”

Your words left a horrible feeling in his stomach. “Don’t you find it strange? Meeting each other in secret like…like thieves?”

Your brows furrowed at that. “I don’t see it like that.”

“No?” He stared you down. “Then how do you see it?”

“We were being careful! So we do not get caught like we have now!”

“We have to act as if we have done something wrong…sneaking, creeping around, not even letting the day catch us.”

His groan was low. “What have we done? Choose to be with each other?”

“You know as well as I do that it is never as easy as that.” Your scowl was harsh, spoiling your features. “I told you the risks, Jeonghan, kept going on and on about what would happen should they catch us. Why did you do that to me?”

Jeonghan cocked his head, taking in your accusations against him. The furrow of his brow deepened, not quite believing what you held against him. “You…you thought I was trying to ruin your image? On purpose?”

“Well, no, but—” You clamped down on your lips, remembering memories from long ago, which were best kept far inside you. 

With his claim, though, you had to mention them—even if it hurt you. “I can see why you would wish to.”

“Why? Why would I wish to?”

“Because of what happened between us!”

Silence.

There—the first hints of the past.

You could have creased at his reaction.

“What the fuck?”

He was breathing out of his mouth now, narrowing his eyes. “How can you think that of me?” 

“Jeonghan, that’s not what I mean!” You pressed your hands to your hips, looking down at your feet. “I just—” Another sigh broke free, the truth aching in your throat the more it tried to escape. “I can understand if you did wish to expose me—”

The man’s scoff cut you off instantly. “I cannot believe you would suggest such a thing,” he snarled. “How can you bring such horrors from the past into this conversation?”

“Because this is the past repeating itself!” you exclaimed, your hands digging deeper at your sides. “Because we had this exact same conversation five years ago, and it did not end well!” 

“Oh my God!” His hand raked through his hair, trying to release his frustration into the poor, innocent locks. “Why are you still stuck to the ghosts of the past? I thought we had moved on from everything!”

“You might have moved on fine!” you corrected him, voice raising with each counter. “I have stayed in the same damned spot in LA, rotting when my movies didn’t do well, when the press would harass me, while you had everyone worshipping you!”

He blinked back at your exclamation. 

For the first time that evening, he felt unadulterated rage within his bones. 

“You know damned well I did not move on.”

You knew—of course you knew, but you were too fired up, thinking of the slander in the papers, the comments in the columns that haunted your every waking moment. You knew you were being unreasonable, but at that moment in time, you did not care one bit.

So you refused to restrict your cruelty. 

“You seemed very moved on to me!” you crowed, taking another step towards him. “Why, was it not mere weeks after our breakup that you shot to stardom, everyone in the world singing your praises?! You did not seem depressed at all!”

His voice was colder than the Alps. “Don’t talk as if you saw me in those months.”

“Of course I couldn’t! I was battling the same goddamn press that haunts me today!” You pointed your accusing finger at him. “You wouldn’t know what it’s like, to have your name slandered in every magazine, every television screen!”

“I wouldn’t know?! I wouldn’t know?!” Now he was walking up to you, a mere two feet from where you stood, shaking with anger. “You think I’ve forgotten how these fucking journalists came for me? Whose fault was that, huh?!”

You could not take this—he was ripping out the bandages of old wounds, and you knew that they had not healed. 

“Oh, so it was my fault?!” you screamed, slapping a hand to your chest. “I sent those reporters to your door?!”

“It was your fucking ex-manager who reported the news at that time! Or have you forgotten the details that don’t concern you?”

Your glare was laced with venom. “Now who’s clinging to ghosts?”

The harsh knit of his brows disappeared, face relaxing as he stared at you, almost as if seeing you for the first time. His head was quivering to the sides, almost shaking in disbelief. 

He had never looked so defeated in his life.

“Please don’t break my heart again, chérie.”

You blinked back.

Kept looking at him, listening to the plea that escaped his beautiful, drooping mouth. 

That alone could have broken your heart. 

“Wh-what…” your voice was barely a whisper. “What do you expect me to do? Pretend I am okay with…with all this?”

The shouting of the journalists was still prevalent in your ears, as well the encircling of the cars—waiting for the two of you to come out. 

You continued, void of life. “I cannot go through it again…you may have risen from the press five years ago but…I am still reaping LA’s consequences.”

A sharp tick appeared in the actor’s jaw. “So you punish me.”

Your eyes squinted, as if he sprayed you with acid. “I…” you gulped. “I have sacrificed too much, Jeonghan. You don’t understand.”

But he watched you, comprehending you perfectly. “No…no I do.” A smile morphed onto his face, a haunting quirk of his mouth that did not reach his eyes at all. 

“I was one of the sacrifices, no?”

You tried to snap back, rebuke him for such a claim.

Nothing came out.

Your breath hitched in your throat, refusing to let your white lie escape. You watched in horror as Jeonghan scoffed softly. 

“I—” you cursed, closing your eyes, trying to formulate your words, trying so ardently to not shatter his willpower. “You have to realise…back then…I didn’t break up with you because I didn’t l-love you…” A hard, shivering sigh. “My team that time, they said it was better for us to—”

“And what’s your excuse now?”

His interruption was barely a whisper.

“Who’s holding you back this time?”

You stared at him. Your hands tried to gesture to the torn up magazines, littered across your floor. “The world.”

“The world, huh? The people who torment you, this very minute?” He pointed to the window, where they could still be heard. “You choose them over me? Again?”

You had no answer to offer him. 

That was all he needed from you. 

He was nodding slowly, ever so slowly, and if you were not nervous before, you were riddled with anxiety now. Hesitantly, he turned, making heavy steps towards the door. 

You did not know why you tried to pursue him. “Wait, Jeonghan—”

His hands paused at the doorknob. You were going to reach for him, but he stepped past your hand.

He faced you one last time, his aching, sublime features now sombre. “I really thought, _____, that this time…it would be different.” 

His gaze darted over your features, as if he was never going to see you again. “Perhaps you were right…perhaps I was the one clinging to the ghosts of the past. I have learned my lesson.”

You could have burst into tears. 

But you only gaped at him as he opened the door. 

He looked over his shoulder. “I hope you find peace in your choice, chérie.”

With that, he left you, closing the door shut should you follow. 

And, five minutes later, as the snapping of the cameras grew louder, you whirled, running to your window. You watched your film noir star—your once actor thunder past the press, completely silent to the thousands of questions thrown his way about you as he swiftly dove into his car. 

Your glassy vision showed you his Bentley driving away from the Ritz entrance.

If only the reporters knew just where your hotel room was—then they could have captured a golden story for their papers. 

A perfect update to their awful story, because if they only looked up and saw you, then your tears would have been enough to deduce what had become of you and your ex-lover. 

LE FRANCE-SOIR, 26TH NOVEMBER, 1954

YOON JEONGHAN SPOTTED ALONE LEAVING MICHELIN STAR RESTAURANT!

Alone, we say! Was it not two weeks ago when the most shocking news of the year had been dropped upon you readers, and here he was on the streets of Paris, as dejected as a heartbroken fool? Ever since he left the Ritz, no doubt to talk to his heartbreaker, he has not been seen with _____ since. Perhaps he has finally caught onto his fans’ disappointment, and is expressing his apologies to you all!

As for _____, she has not been spotted outside. She has found her sanctuary somewhere else, but not to fret, everyone! We have our people outside of the hotel, and we will make sure to publish the pictures of her heartbreak too should she show herself to us!

NOTHING COULD SAVE YOU ANYMORE.

Whatever you thought you had with your once lover had seemed to cease completely. The infinite calls you had left him were ignored, and even showing up to where he was supposed to visit on press tours was not enough.

Once again, you had managed to land yourself in a ceremonious screw up.

You supposed that you should have been used to it by now. You were in this very city because of your infamous fuck ups, and your latest damage was almost irreversible. 

Seungkwan’s words fell on deaf ears.

Every morsel of food, every pint of alcohol could not fill the empty, hollow vessel in your heart, growing with each day without Jeonghan’s sultry murmurs entertaining your late nights. Almost comically, like the first few weeks in the city, you hid yourself away, the press a completely secondary thought to what plagued your every waking—dreaming moment. 

So you carried on with what you did best.

Shut yourself away in your hotel room, slowly withering yourself away in your mistakes. 

Why did you care so much about these fucking papers?

With every glass came another memory.

Please don’t break my heart again, chérie.

Yoon Jeonghan. The Yoon Jeonghan, the film noir superstar, bared his soul out to you, and you crushed it with no mercy.

Every single night you spent with this man, every single fleeting moment, you knew that perhaps you had felt the same. Of course, your self-destructing nature prevented you from ever achieving happiness, but even common sense begged you to reciprocate.

This time, your heart knew. 

But you had completely, fully, without a shadow of a doubt, fucked everything up.

The days of wallowing dragged on, and soon the only time you heard Jeonghan’s name was on the news, reporting of his last few nights in Paris before the end of his film promotions. Quickly you turned the television off, lethargically stumbling back into your bed before pulling the sheets over yourself, hoping the darkness would engulf you whole and eat you alive.

Of course, since the universe despised you more so than you thought, harsh rapping on your hotel door meant that you could never find peace, even within your pain. “Oh, fuck off!” you screamed in your broken rasp, hurting your head with the shrill volume.

“I’m not leaving this time, ____, open up!” a familiar voice drilled through, and you genuinely prayed for whatever entity torturing you to torture your dear friend too.

“I’m not opening the door, Seungkwan!” 

“You better, or I’m smashing it down!”

You merely scoffed, closing your eyes in hopes of sleep.

THUD!

Your eyes flew open.

THUD!

“I mean it!”

Groaning, you crawled out of the sheets, walking to the ramming door. You opened it much too quickly, nearly being kicked in the face. 

“Watch it, idiot!” you hissed, immediately retreating.

“I should kick you,” he greeted coldly, closing the door behind him as he fixed the strap of his satchel. Upon observing the worsening state of your room, he grumbled further, tossing aside the dirty dresses with his shoes. “God, I know you ruined your life, but could you not ruin this room? We still have to pay for this month.”

You knifed him with a look. “Cleanliness is the last thing on my mind.”

He looked as if he was biting back a remark, but thankfully reined it in. “Look, I would have gladly let you wither away in self-pity, but I came here today because of something important.”

Your eyes stilled on his face. “Has he reached out to you?” you asked, feeling incredibly foolish for the hope in your voice.

The sad turn of his mouth was enough of an answer. “I did try, ____. I hope you know that.”

A moment of silence. “I do.” You cleared your throat, hoping a lump won’t form and break your tone. “What was the important thing?”

“Oh, yes.” He sat himself down, glancing at the half-dozen empty wine bottles on your desk. “Right, so I know with everything going on, this is not the best time, but…”

He reached down to his satchel, opening the latch and fishing a collection of papers from the inside. “I got the script for the Seungcheol production.”

That immediately darkened your spirits. “I don’t feel like doing an audition at the moment.”

“Last time I remembered, you were a failing actress. Doing auditions should be your only concern.”

You hated how much that stung you. “I’m afraid I cannot be enthusiastic enough for you,” you snarled, sitting in the opposite chair. “Should I…oh, I don’t know, pretend I didn’t make the worst decision of my life and carry on as if nothing has happened?”

Seungkwan frowned. “_____, you know I am here for you, right? I understand that this fight with Jeonghan…I get it.” He sighed, bringing the papers on the table. “But I cannot see you wasting yourself away. You may not give a single shit about yourself, but there are others who do.”

A glance towards him. He was looking at you with a serious earnestness. “Look, this audition…it’s very important. I’ve already told you about the logistics, but should you get it…it could turn your life back around.”

You knew that—of course you were aware of the rewards of starring in Seungcheol’s films. Many young actors flocked to his auditions in hopes for a part, regardless of how important their presence might be in the movie. It was why Jeonghan shot to stardom, months after you ended your relationship. 

It was why you slumped further in your seat, hugging yourself tightly. “I don’t know…I feel like they won’t accept me.”

The man could see right through you. “If you’re worried about what’s being said in the papers, forget about it.” A roll of eyes. “Seungcheol is a moody, tight bastard, I can’t lie…but one thing I can say for certain. He is incredibly fair.”

He patted the documents. “If you truly impress him, he won’t care about the press. He will give you the part.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, still a little unsure. 

“So?” 

Seungkwan stood up, sliding his hands in his pockets. “What do you say?”

You stared at him, shuffling from side to side. 

You wanted to say no.

Outright refuse, and continue your indefinite journey to a slow, agonising death. What was the point in doing an audition that high-profile anyway? With A-list names involved, you doubted that the producers would take you on, considering your crippled reputation. 

But deep down, you knew you could not live like this forever. 

Observing your hotel room, the mess you resided in, you had an inclination that your funds were running dry. You did not realise the strain your agent was in, the hours he must have invested in trying to change your situation around. Admittedly, you had spent such a substantial amount of time being around, thinking about, crying over your ex-lover that you had forgotten why you were truly in Paris. 

If you could not act for your own sake, then you had to trudge on for Seungkwan’s—the poor man was already certain you planned a theatrical show of murdering yourself in the name of woe.

Your stare was unshaken as you pinned it on the papers.

Undoubtedly the lines for the role.

“I’ll do it.”

LE FRANCE-SOIR, 2ND DECEMBER, 1954

YOON JEONGHAN ABSENT FROM LAST NIGHT’S BIG PREMIERE!

Two-time Academy winning actor, heart-throb and biggest star to date Yoon Jeonghan has brought us yet another shocker since his sighting with his scandalous past-amour, _____. As his upcoming movie premiered spectacularly in the central city, spectators were greatly disappointed to find that the main attraction was not there to greet them with his signature, enigmatic smiles. When asked why his fellow co-star is absent, Vernon Chwe talked of a sudden illness, and asked his fans to send him well-wishes. 

We wonder, just like our readers, whether this illness is a true, unfortunate circumstance for our poor star, or whether it is a coverup to continue his shocking meetings with his ex. Not to worry, everyone, because we will find out soon enough!

YOU WERE SURPRISED THAT YOU HAD NOT THROWN UP ON THE WAY TO YOUR DESTINATION.

Palais Garnier was not as far as you had imagined—only a ten minute walk, but because of recent events, you decided to take a cab there. It was already frightful enough that journalists camped out at the Ritz, waiting for you to come out at any point in the day. Fortunately for you, the auditions were being done hours before dawn, so most of the city was already asleep—even the people with cameras that pestered you to no end. 

It did seem bizarre to hold the calls at such late an hour, but Seungkwan had warned you of the infamous director’s customs. The late hours did not bother you, though, when you had become accustomed to staying awake when the sun was long gone.

Even with the security of a car, you covered yourself from head to toe—your face was half-masked, hair wrapped in a scarf. Your collared shirt shrouded you to your wrists, black trousers donned as your skirts had become too troublesome. Anxious in your minutes-long ride to the destination, you clutched the papers, reading your lines over and over. It was not too useful at this point, when you had memorised not only yours, but of the love interest as well, but repeating the dialogues in your mind was the only action that stopped you from losing your mind. 

When the driver stopped before the grand building, you paid your fare, getting out of the vehicle. No one recognised your mysterious figure, so you allowed yourself to look at where specifically the auditions were being held. The Palais Garnier was a truly spectacular sight—the classical opera house towered over you, every inch akin to a palace as the off-white columns sat atop thinner, circular columns. The European masters of the art and music had their figures sculpted in between the first floor, minor gods of instruments and melodies at eye-level with you. Gold statues of Harmony and Poetry, accompanied by Pegasus, watching over your tiny figure in comparison to their hind, glorious bodies, high above atop the roof. The light teal dome settled in the middle, Apollo settled at the top of the point, holding out his golden lyre, stone-cold eyes watching over your nervous steps.

You had half a mind to cower away, but you reminded yourself that they were just statues—lifeless, unjudging. What resided inside was much worse.

Cursing low, you entered the opera house. 

The interior was just as magical as the outside, you navigating the intricate, red-velveted halls. You were aware that the auditions were being carried out in the grand auditorium—again, courtesy of your obsession with Parisian landmarks, you had been inside the opera house before. 

The only difference was that you had never been here alone.

You supposed that you should become used to the absence. 

Once you found the grand doors of the auditorium, you opened one, taking in the scene. The huge, singular chandelier lit the vast theatre, golden bordered stalls looking over the couple dozen crew, walking and rushing in and out backstage, few seated in the plush red chairs. The most important people, however, stood before the stage, watching the very performances that you were expecting to do. A sole actress atop the stage read out the lines that you had ingrained in your mind, you spying a few others behind the curtains, anxiously waiting their turn. 

Trying to control your breathing, you began the descent downstairs, passing each lush row of seats, the producers, casting directors, and the big man himself closer and closer. Once you were three rows from the crew, you heard a harsh voice radiating throughout the room. 

“Oh, for goodness sake! Can we wrap this up already?!” 

You suppressed your shudder—the aspiring actress atop the stage, however, could not, flinching at the order. 

The scoff that left the man’s lips would have made you cry many years ago. “Jesus…sweetheart, do us all a favour, and stop wasting our time. Next!” 

The poor auditioner, with crushed hopes, trudged backstage, you catching the tears lining her eyes. You could not restrain a soft gasp.

That had the man turning back.

Oh, God.

Choi Seungcheol’s eyebrows raised to his hairline.

“My, my,” he drawled, sliding his hands to his hips, blazer rising to show his shirt, suspenders attached to his trousers. “What do we have here?”

Dear Lord and His Seven Heavens—if He truly existed, He would spare you this torture, and take away your life this instant. 

You cleared your throat, matching his stare. “I’m here for the casting call.”

The director snickered at your response. “So Seungkwan wasn’t bullshitting at all,” he began, bringing out a cigar from his coat pockets, sparking it to life with his lighter. “What spurred you to take acting seriously again after your spectacular fuck-ups in LA?”

Straight to the point. “I read the parts of the script, and wanted to be involved,” you said simply. It was the truth—it was a perfect project—or perfect, from what you could gather from the limited information.

“Ah…about that.” Seungcheol took a long drag of his cigar. “I’ve decided that the next people auditioning will read something else.”

Your mouth could have dropped to the floor. “What?”

“You see, I have watched about a hundred girls drone out these perfect dialogues.” He puffed out the smoke, almost ambushing your face. “And they were all so god-awful that I now hate the scene altogether.” Snapping his fingers, a running boy brought him a new set of papers. “The rest will read from this. Including you.”

You gaped at the new script. “I haven’t prepared at all for this.”

Seungcheol narrowed his eyes on you. “You have a couple of hours to remember the lines. If you cannot complete such a simple task, then I have no need for you on my set.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, you took the papers from him, scanning the lines. The iron director pointed backstage. “You can look at the lines from over there.”

You tried your best not to snap at him. Offering a tight-lipped smile, you followed the direction of his finger, going up the stairs and into the backstage area, where the rest of the aspiring actresses were situated. Each and every one of them looked as if they had received news of a personal death, with the way they paced back and forth, tears in their eyes as they read the scripts. You could not help eavesdropping, and sure enough, Seungcheol’s new decision had everyone a million times more nervous than usual.

You did not miss the last-minute changes in auditions.

Sighing, you found a spot, away from the rush of the actors, settling upon a chair next to the dozen others stacked. With a turn of the front, you decided to look at the page numbers. Hmm…page 90, 91…this meant that the scene was near the end of the movie. The scene you had practised to perfection was in the middle—the character was having an argument with her parents about seeking opportunities, and ended with them offering her one chance to discover herself outside of their abode. 

When you began to read this script, though, your blood curdled beneath your skin.

Your eyes could not stray from the words that were typed onto the paper, your fingers roughly swiping each page, disbelief growing with each dialogue that passed. You were cursing inwardly, sometimes slipping past your lips, and when you were done reading you could not help laughing uncontrollably at your luck. 

This was either the best performance you would ever carry out, or this audition would be the end of your career. 

So, with the two hours you were provided, you endeavoured to engage with the script, reading the lines you were supposed to act out over and over in your head. You tried to forget the previous script, erase it from your mind to create space for this dire piece of work, and you were mostly successful, remembering the new script’s most important bits. You scanned the scene repeatedly, saying the dialogues out loud to taste them with your tongue, trying to enact the emotion that Seungcheol had intended for his characters. 

The hours that you were offered seem to slip by much too quickly, and the director’s barking at the auditioners did not help your nerves, which were threatening to ruin your efforts. You made to steel yourself—this was not the time for panic. Do your audition, and go insane afterwards.

With the last of the actresses done, your name was called out. You got up from your chair, legs turning to jelly under you, and you made to walk out onto the stage, the huge, white tungsten lamps making your eyes water from the sheer flash. 

The director’s voice boomed beyond the stage, his face scrutinising you beneath the lights. “Last, and possibly the least!” he exclaimed, the same papers in hand which you held. When he saw you gritting your teeth, he only snickered, puffing out smoke from his cigar. “God, do scandals make you lose your sense of humour?”

“Just get the dialogue rolling,” you quipped, earning a hearty laugh from him. If you did not get this role, you will make sure to make this man’s life a living hell.

As if you have not done that for every man in your life—especially for the man that mattered.

“Right! Let me reiterate the details.” Seungcheol read out from a summary, not in your script. “The scene starts with your character, Ilsa, ending up at Richard’s door, and is going to make amends. Richard is tired of his ex’s excuses, and well…the argument is going to cement the end of their love story.” He held up his script. “I will read from Richard’s lines, and you read yours. Got it?”

When you nodded, he gave you a minute to look over the starting lines one last time. You instead dropped the papers to the floor. You closed your eyes, breathing in, breathing out, clearing your head. 

The man in your dreams was still there, greeting you with his signature smile.

You wished he was there before you. 

You imagined he would be at the far end of the theatre, seated beside the entryway stairs. He would wear his burgundy jacket, slip a beret upon his black locks, and he would watch you without saying a single word, merely admire you from the back of the room. It would have made you nervous once, but you would give anything to see him in front of you now—be it at the far end of a theatre. 

“You ready?” 

No, you said to the man in your mind.

“Yes,” you said to the man in front. 

The director called for lights, shifting slightly before focusing on you. 

“I’ll be starting in three, two, one…”

You opened your eyes.

There. 

There he was, exactly how you imagined him. His phantom gaze watched you, unsettled on the stage, and he crossed his arms, beret-ed head cocking slightly. The burgundy coat that he adorned nearly covered his face, but you could recognise him anywhere. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I…” you began, trying to find the words, even though you had them memorised. “I had to come back.” 

“To what? What do we have anymore to come back to?” 

Had you not been in a daze, you would have despised the monotone in Seungcheol’s delivery. He was doing it on purpose, you knew—throw the actor off.

You, however, did not need to be thrown off. 

“You’re being hasty with me, Richard,” you reasoned, eyes rooted to the back of the theatre. “You haven’t even given me the chance to speak—”

“I have given you every opportunity…or have you forgotten the last time we spoke?” A pause, meant to be a scoff—the man you stared at scoffed for the director, which went unnoticed. “Well, we didn’t speak much…not with all the shouting.”

Your hand went to your chest. “And I will take the blame if you wish so.” 

“Why thank you for your unending, sacrificial kindness.”

It was almost as if you could hear his voice instead—the very prospect made you shiver at the response. 

“Is that not what you want?” you then asked. 

“God, you still don’t get it, do you?” another baritone demanded, and it was hard, deciphering who spoke from the script, and who spoke from the heart. “It’s not about what I want, it’s about what’s right.”

“Of course you say something like that,” you sneered. “I’m only trying to make you happy.”

“Happy?” The hazy figure on the back seats shifted, almost in agitation. “Why do you care about my happiness now?”

“I’ve never not cared, Jeo—” you stopped, eyes widening. You tried to evade, “Just, just…I was so caught up with everything, and—”

“And forgot about me?”

The dialogue began to hurt—these words, residing within the script, began to tear at the seams of your soul. “I could never forget about you,” you murmured. “Even if I tried.”

There was a pause. Seungcheol, watching you stare at a specific point in the distance, turned around, seeing only the empty seats at the back. He continued the recitation, brows raised in surprise at your performance. “You were successful this time.”

“Don’t say that!” you exclaimed, taking a step forward, raising your hand out to him—you were only met with air. “Please, you have to believe me, this will be the last time—”

“How can I believe you?!” The seated illusion almost jumped from his chair. “Your words are not even a month old and suddenly you want to change them? What do you take me for?!”

“I know, I know, but I was angry, scared about what was happening!”

“So you decide to take it out on me?! And you expect me to then take it?!”

“No, no!” You began to pace back and forth, shaking your head. What was the love interest’s name, shit, if not Jeonghan, then—”My love!” you then tried, the name of the character lost to your lips. “I admit that I made a mistake. I know that I screwed it all up, and that I do not deserve you…I know that.”

You turned your head towards him again. “But I’m here now. I have let everything else go…my work, my colleagues that talked about me, still talk about me…my family who did not think you were good enough…I have left them all.”

Without quite realising, the words that slipped from your tongue began to stray from your dialogue. “I had many great things that held me back. But for you…only for you, I have come back. I am here.”

There was another beat in the script, and you watched as the actor watched you, his beautiful, haunted mouth parting. 

It was as if Jeonghan himself whispered what came next. 

“And what divine revelation brought you to me now?”

Your gaze did not go down on the man that recited the line. For all you could see, the vision you had created mouthed that question. The glimmer in his hazy eyes, waiting for you to answer him.

What divine revelation brought you to me now?

For the first time in your life, you were certain of a difficult question.

There were no revelations—no grand epiphanies, no extravagant fireworks the moment you cracked your dilemma concerning him.

No, perhaps it was the underlying truth. A fact as ancient as your relation with him, as long as the distance between the ground and the tip of the Eiffel Tower. A precious piece of evidence, always rumoured by the thousands of papers that wrote of you and him. This information, that had preyed on your mind for as long as you had known him, something that had scared you.

The truth, which had never left the crevices of your heart, even when you broke his heart five years ago, 

The script was forgotten—your heart, instead, spoke its lines. 

“I love you.”

Murmurs spread beyond the stage. 

The dream-like figure that you confessed to shifted. 

Seungcheol held his hand up to his colleagues, requesting quiet. His stare on you was inquisitive, calculating. 

“You love me?” The question was cautious—a chance to let you play out your improv. You, however, did not realise the director’s mindset. You were too lost in your own pandemonium to notice your change of script. 

“I love you,” you repeated, more desperate this time, because Yoon Jeonghan had to know. The Yoon Jeonghan, real or not real before you, had to be aware, or else all would be lost. “I never stopped, I-I don’t think I ever will stop, because I can’t love anyone else—” you halted, your throat lumping, stopping your string of speech. 

Trying to contain yourself, you cast one last stare at the man you had conjured up—who, too, was unable to tear his gaze from you—perhaps because you would not let him.

You pleaded as if it was Judgement Day. 

“Please understand. I love you.”

You snapped your eyes shut, a tear escaping as it trailed down your cheek. 

There it was—the confession that you had harboured for too long.

Your breathing was the only thing prevalent in the huge theatre, all eyes upon your crumbling figure, the legs which had not failed you before threatening to do so that very moment. But you refused to give up, not when you needed to hear his answer. 

“Maybe in the past, my dear, that would have been enough.”

Seungcheol’s final line had your heart stopping.

“Not anymore…not for me.”

Your eyes fluttered open.

The actor you had dreamt up had vanished. 

“And scene!”

Your frantic gaze darted to the director, who swiped the last page, cherry lips curling upward. “And then he closes the door on her, but we don’t need to see you act that out.” He set the script upon the table he leaned against, crossing his arms. “I must say, _____, for someone who’s been too busy ruining her career, you sure have the talent to salvage—”

“Was there someone at the back?” You pointed to the seats, precisely where your ex-lover had been—or at least you thought.

“No…you were the last person to audition with us.” He raised a brow. “I was wondering why you were looking so intently at the empty chairs, and not the man you were supposed to read your lines with.”

But you were not particularly listening to him, because you had poured out your heart only for it to fall on deaf ears. You looked to the grand doors of the exit, mind sprinting ideas, rushed plans on what to do next, what to do with these feelings—

“Now, I am certain you are aware of the procedure, but I’ll contact Seungkwan about your audition, as well as your performance this morning,” he continued, snapping his fingers to have his assistant immediately carry out the task. “Based on me not shouting you to tears, you can guess that—”

“I need to go,” you cut the greatest director in Hollywood off, your frenzied sight catching the stairs. “Thank you, um, for—” you cursed, shaking your head, trying to say something that did not revolve around him—“Seungkwan will reach out, I’ll be sure of it.” 

The man watched your behaviour, visibly shocked. “Do you understand what I am proposing right now?” 

Your rushed steps flew past him, looking at him over the shoulder. “Perfectly, so perfectly, but…”

You could not contain your smile. “I need to tend to a more important matter.”

And you left him there, aghast as you glided up the grand stairs of the theatre. You heard him mumble complaints against you, cursing the ‘young actors and their recklessness’, but this time, you could only laugh, because maybe he was right, maybe you were being reckless and wild and stupid, but you did not care.

For once in your life, you did not care.

It only took a few minutes to navigate the exit of the opera house, the light at the end of the grand tunnel glowing brighter and brighter. Bursting out of the Palais, you hissed when you saw the sun out in full swing, glaring down at you with great offence—almost as if it knew that you blamed its enlightening rays for the separation between you and Jeonghan, and reminded you of who was truly at fault.

You admitted your wrongdoings—you admitted them wholeheartedly, and now you must make amends.

Scanning the road before you, you realised there were no cabs nearby. Fuck, you instantly thought, breaking into a hurried walk as you scoured your surroundings, any car for hire that might turn up. 

At this point, the morning population was gathering. Because you were the unluckiest woman in the world, anyone who looked in your direction a little too closely recognised you at once.

“Oh my God, is that—”

“What is _____ doing around here?”

At one point, you would have died hearing their comments, but you had greater concerns in your mind—those concerns first began with how to get to your destination.

That was when a large, box-like bus rushed past you, slowing to rest beside the Palais Garnier stop.

Your eyes squinted at the back for its details.

041095 — GARE DE L’EST. 

By God. Jeonghan’s apartment was on the way to the East Station.

You did not know whether this was a blessing or a curse.

“Here goes,” you murmured.

After garnering every atom of strength you could find in your body, you devoured it in one moment as you burst into a sprint.

Gasps were heard around you as you ran towards the bus,which was accepting the last of the passengers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” you kept cursing out, your feet beginning to hurt by the sheer force of your flight. 

You were already aware that you were a failing actress—you did not need to be a failing athlete along with it.

With pure horror you watched as the last couple entered the bus, gathering at the open deck of its back. There were people within that open deck looking at you in shock, certain that you would not reach the standing area in time.

But you were on a mission to prove people wrong. After all this time, you were not going to let them win—even if it may be over something as menial as running for the bus.

As soon as the carriage began to move, you reached your hand out, fingers aching to touch the railing.

Just before it could drive away into the city, you grabbed onto the pole. 

With a groan you hoisted yourself upon the deck, stumbling across the fragile floors. The onlookers stepped away from you as you gathered yourself, gulping down a world’s worth of oxygen. You held onto the railings, fearing that if you let go you would be ripped away from the bus, although it was an irrational thought.

The surprised looks were still upon you.

You tilted your head up at one of them. “Quoi?” you demanded. “What?”

Instantly, the rest seemed to avert their gazes, finding the scenery of central Paris much more alluring than a walking Hollywood scandal.

At least they were not going to bother you now.

You were thankful to be at the back, avoiding the calls for showing tickets in the interior of the bus. Your hands gripped the poles, attached to the extended roof as you passed the Champs-Élysées, each stop making you more restless. If his apartment was not an hour away on foot, then you would have ran there yourself. 

Soon enough, you oversaw the distant view of the Eiffel Tower, watching your journey over the Seine. You were close—you remembered that Jeonghan lived across the great river, just so he could catch a glimpse of the famed landmark from his apartment balcony.

Once the bus stopped outside the Passy underground, you quickly stepped off the deck, eyes darting to the signs that directed you to the nearby park. You followed it blindly, the route to the destination coming together, like lost pieces of an old puzzle, finally being solved. You had become restless, almost savage in your trail to find him; the more civilians that recognised you, the more shocked they were at your appearance, wondering out loud at how someone like you could run around Paris in such a manner.

You were laughing at them all. You did not care.

Finding the residential park, you sprinted through the orderly trees, catching the giggles of children in your ears as your eyes spotted the apartment building, right in front of you. So close, you were so fucking close—

Exiting the confines of the garden, you burst through the apartment complex. It was simple, almost rundown, a shocking residential for someone who had tasted the luxury of seven-star hotels. The once painted walls were crackling on your present floor, distant arguments in French muffled beyond the doors. 

You knew instantly that this was not the floor.

Taking the stairs beside you, you immediately took two in one heap, almost flying to the top till you reached the second floor. However, you remember distinctly how much you used to complain whenever you would come here, how you would tire of this horrid journey, and you knew that the second floor had arrived too quickly.

A part of you resented the beautiful asshole for renting a place so high-up the complex.

After what felt like a million flights of stairs later, you reached the top floor, your clothes sticking to your skin, sweating through the fabric. Your tired gaze fell on the multiple identical doors, trying to recall which one had your ex-lover behind them. 

Your hands settled on the back of your hips, closing your eyes. Think, think! you tried to remember, the reminiscences of his living room, the walls decked with paintings and memorabilia, the bedroom where he ended and you began.

Ten minutes in, pacing back and forth the hallway, ready to collapse on the floor. 

That was when you heard the distant music.

“That’s why…darling…it’s incredible…”

More importantly, the distant voice.

“That someone…so unforgettable…” 

The voice was not of the original singer—no, it was a voice that had stayed with you forever, a voice that sounded much more melancholy than the song let on.

“Thought that I was…unforgettable…too…”

You parted your mouth.

You knew exactly which door the sweet song came from.

Your feet dashed towards the distant humming, right at the end of the long hallway. The door on the far right was the one, and your hand could not fly up quickly enough.

The knocks on the door could have had the entire complex shaking in its foundations.

“Jeonghan!” 

The song softened to an end. 

The other side of the door was silenced.

“Jeonghan!” you tried again, fists rocking on the wood. “Please open the door! I need to speak to you!”

As you shouted, pleaded, your ears picked up soft footsteps from the other side. You latched onto this. “I can hear you from there, please! Please Jeonghan, just hear me out!”

You waited anxiously, as if you were in hospital expecting tragic news, or a convict awaiting sentence. He may have been silent now, because you could hear a single shuffle on the opposite end. 

Of course he did not want to speak to you. 

And although he had every right to be silent, you knew that your right to be a bystander had long disappeared. So you began, in hopes he had not secluded further into his apartment.

“Look, I know what I said last time we had spoken—well, argued, really, I know that I said some horrible things, and it’s selfish of me to even bring it up again, but…they have haunted me ever since I made the mistake of hurting you that day.”

You were not quite sure of the exact words, but you had to have faith in your feelings. “I was cruel to you that day, Jeonghan. I said things to purposefully harm you, and expected you to be fine with me the very next day. I became scared, you know, when the press exposed us, because all I was doing was thinking about myself.” Your scoff cut off your speech. “I realise I do that a lot…think only of myself.

“And I know this is no excuse, but I had been abandoned so many times that I had to prioritise myself for so long. I was not used to your selflessness, your unending kindness…perhaps because I did not deserve it, but you offered it to me, and I happily took it.”

A hard sigh. “Truth is, it’s me who has not moved on.”

Something shifted on the other side. 

“You were right. I destroyed this relationship five years ago, and the worst thing is, I did it for the people who did not care for me. For my career, my fans…my fame.” 

“I thought I was fine…I thought, well, all this bitterness, this frustration I have felt for so long in my life…I thought this entire time that it was because I lost my glory.” Your head shook slightly. “But I was wrong. My life took a turn for the worse the moment I lost you.” 

You paused, hoping he would have something to say.

Nothing.

“You may be thinking why I have had this sudden revelation, considering it has arrived so late, but I think the night I saw you at the Louvre…you know, with those sculptures and that talk about love and loss…something came alive in me that day. Even when you were in my room, when we were drinking too much, my confession was still honest. I did miss you…fuck, I do miss you, a-and it only made everything so much more difficult.”

Still not a word.

Spirits slowly sinking, you leaned your forehead against the door, closing your eyes. “I have been a coward, though, this entire time. My fear of the press overshadowed my feelings, and in turn I hurt you in false hope to save myself…for the second time, I have hurt you, and I don’t even know how I can ever make it up to you…but I can say this.”

This time, with both hands flat beside you, you pressed your forehead against the door.

“I’m sorry.”

A pause. 

“I’m sorry for everything I have done. ‘I’m sorry for five years ago, and for these past few weeks. I’m sorry for toying with your feelings, Jeonghan, even though you were so dear to me, and I’m sorry for allowing my securities to reign over your affections.”

You closed your eyes. 

“Please forgive me.”

You stopped yourself, lest the lump in your throat robbed you of your voice. If Jeonghan was still listening, he would realise the waver in your speech. You could not cry at him—that would not be fair.

You did not know how long you stood there, almost sagged against the creaking wood, praying to every entity imaginable to hear a single reply of your confessions. As more time passed, the more you revisited your words, taking them apart, finding faults in them. You became half-mad that you should not have said anything at all, and made the greatest mistake of your life in running back to him.

But what else could you have done? Continued in your self-destructive, self-sabotaging ways till they cemented an early demise? How could you have lived with yourself, knowing that you let the great love of your life slip through your sin-stained fingers, and survived? Even now, you were anxious beyond repair, waiting hopelessly for an answer that might not arrive, but you knew as well as anyone that if you had simply gone back to the hotel after your audition, then everything you had ever lived for would amount to nothing.

And so, you waited.

And waited.

And waited.

You were almost unable to withhold your tears when you heard the door creaking—as if a presence straightened themselves from the other side.

Then, the hesitant unlocking of the knob. 

Your instincts bid you step away as the door opened, and you could not restrain the haggard sigh that escaped you as you set your sight upon him.

Jeonghan looked every bit as frenzied as you were.

The mystical elegance that he exuded so naturally had almost disappeared when you caught the ghostly hue of his skin, the slight bags under his eyes. Even his mouth lost a little colour, his hair in a wild, unruly frizz. It was frightening, seeing him look so different to how he always presented himself.

Another consequence of your actions.

You could barely get his name out of your lips.

“J-Jeonghan…”

He was staring and staring, not quite believing what he was seeing—nor what he heard.

I’m sorry.

He had never heard an apology from you. 

In his entire time of knowing you, admiring you, loving you, mourning you, his ears were never graced with apologies or requests of forgiveness from you. Perhaps because you were not used to someone confronting your behaviour—or simply because of your own, unintentional arrogance—but you had never been forced to recognise your behaviour, and so had grown immune to the morally ambiguous actions of your past. 

So to hear you utter the words…he thought at first that you were not there in front of him, near tears in your eyes, admitting to what you had done to him.

“What caused this?”

He had to ask you the origins of such a declaration.

“Why are you here now?”

You could have shuddered—how similar he sounded to the words on the script you had just memorised.

You told him yourself, albeit with caution. “I…I was auditioning, actually…you know, the Seungcheol movie I talked about before…” Before the press—the fight. Before the separation. “There was a scene and…I was screaming, begging for the man to come back, but he strayed, despite my best efforts…”

The actor’s voice turned harsh. “So I reminded you of a scene? A story of fiction, a fantasy?”

“No!” you began, almost reaching out to hold his hand, but you stopped yourself—you did not have the right. “No, Jeonghan, it was so similar, I just…I saw you in the theatre as I said my lines! I saw you, heard your voice recite the responses. I thought I was going mad, and then I did when I stopped following the script, and confessed to you!” The memory made you a little sheepish. “Then I realised you were not there, and so here I am…”

But he was turning on his heel, walking back into the room as he shook his head. “Wait, Jeonghan!” you exclaimed, following after him, not realising your surroundings, the nostalgia of entering the private sphere of the most public man in the world. “Wait, it wasn’t a fantasy!” He was walking further, into another room. “Damn it, I left the audition before Seungcheol could even provide any feedback!” 

He looked back. “You did what?”

“I ran away from the theatre before anyone could say anything! I swear to you, I ran after a bus to the station, a bus that led me here.” You were frantic again, desperate. “I am sure I have fucked up this audition, the entire city saw me running to you, but I don’t care anymore. I don’t care if Seungcheol spreads the word of my terrible improv, I will laugh when the press writes about my crazy episode of coming here…” Anxiously, you kept shaking your head, trying to steady your voice. “I don’t care anymore, Jeonghan. Not about them…”

The film noir star could only take in the confession, more shocking than everything you had said before. 

You left the sanctuary of your privacy for him.

You had abandoned possibly the only chance for a revival of your fame to seek him out.

You, who would have rather died than show yourself to the public in these dark times, had faced its scrutiny for him.

He did not know whether to fall to his knees or laugh in disbelief. 

“I know you’re shocked,” you murmured, hugging yourself tightly. “You have every right to be, especially that I’m dumping this on you all of a sudden…but, it’s for you. I did it all for you.”

Falling silent, you watched the anarchy on his haunted features, his head dipping, curls falling along his movements. It was within this tensioned quiet that you finally allowed yourself to scour your environment; Jeonghan’s apartment remained the same as you had last seen it—you did not realise you had followed him into his bedroom, a myriad of dark blues, greys and blacks coating the walls, carpeting the floor, the only light being the lamplights, brighter with the setting of the sun. 

Upon the large, night-cloaked bed, was a newspaper stark against the black sheets. As you read the France-Soir headline, you heard him speak.

“Did you think I wanted to hide away too?”

Your eyes stayed on the newspaper. 

“Ignore your calls, wave Seungkwan off when he mentioned you, watch you suffer? Do you think I wanted it to come to this?”

You allowed yourself a quick glance at him. He continued, “I’m sure you’ve read about the absence by now. You know me well enough to know that I never miss a single press tour, let alone the premiere.”

“Then why did you not go?”

His stare upon you was grave. “I was not the only one suffering in this separation.”

Oh.

Right.

Quickly you averted your eyes from the dreaded papers, instead focusing on the memorabilia surrounding his private sphere. The walls were plastered with posters of various movies, his promotional shots, as well the fan letters many had sent him in his career. Another board beside his bed was littered with a hundred photos, memories of his friends, his co-stars, and his family. 

“I don’t want to hurt like that…like this anymore. The years when we were apart…” he could not even finish his musings, turning away to put his hand on the study. 

You could not say another word, hoping he would keep speaking—because if he stopped speaking, then there was nothing left between you and him.

And that was too terrifying a thought.

“I missed the premiere, _____, because for the first time in my life, I could not face the public.” 

Jeonghan forced down the nerves bubbling in his throat. “What you said that day…although I had heard it before, all that time ago, I still did not know how to handle myself. Funny, is it not, that I was able to survive the cruelty of the media five years back, but one fight with you, and I completely broke down…”

Once again, you felt his words knife your soul. “I…” He licked his lips, so at loss with himself. “I don’t want to relive those moments again…I can’t relive it.”

You were such a coward, unable to look at the anguish in his face. You kept staring at the wall of memories, scouring the faces the actor held dear enough to keep them in his room forever. 

It was in that particular moment, when he closed his eyes, that your own found something extraordinary.

“Oh my God.”

The actor looked up. 

With a hesitance in his step, he walked over to where you were rooted to the ground, gawking at a specific picture.

When his line of sight found the photo, he too, widened his eyes.

Before you, right in the middle of Jeonghan’s pictured-memories, was a photograph of you.

It was you, face glowing with awe as you admired your favourite sculpture, cut away from the picture’s borders. You knew precisely when this moment was captured—your first ever Paris trip, taken mere weeks after beginning your romance with the man in this room. You had chastised him for taking the picture, demanding he rip it from his camera, but he had teased you so relentlessly for your innocent admiration, that he vowed never to destroy it.

Your question from the exhibition, at least, had been answered. 

This was enough to make your vision blurry again.

You were so caught up in the picture that when he spoke again, you almost jumped. 

“Why are you surprised to see it there?”

Blinking back the tears, you tried to voice your shock. “I can’t…I can’t believe you didn’t throw it away.”

He kept looking at the photograph. “I keep my promises, _____.”

This time, you glanced at him.“Sometimes I pretend that we are back in the Louvre,” he said, a ghost of a smile creeping onto his mouth, the more he inspected the photo. “Seeing Psyche and Cupid for the first time…back when we didn’t care about anything. Back when things like the press or the public didn’t stop us.”

You damned the cowardice. “It can be like that again.”

He faced you. “Could it?” His eyes were laced with uncertainty. “Last time I remembered, you were ready to give everything up for the public.”

“I know…I know what I said, and believe me when I say I regret it.”

You willed your hands at your sides, setting your gaze at the man who was losing faith. “Jeonghan, when I was running away from the audition, seeing everyone’s shock and judgement as I rushed to you, I did not feel anxious. Honestly, I was relieved. I did not care, because all I was anxious for was seeing you, and begging for your forgiveness.

“I thought I could sacrifice everything to have my popularity back…yes, the first weeks in Paris were not perfect…day and night I ached for the affections of the press, the people, but…” You recalled the fated nights. “By some fortune, you came back into my life.”

A small step forward—an effort to close the imminent distance between you both—a distance you had created. “You said before, didn’t you? That you had lost me once, and could not lose me again?” 

This time, you could not control the waver in your voice. “It was never you who lost me…it was I who was foolish enough to lose you. I spent so long listening to the people who did not know me, that I forgot about the man who knows me more than I know myself.”

He was shell-shocked, unable to stop, and did not want to stop your shaking hands, which raised to hold his face. 

“I am done living by the opinions of others. I love you, and I will always be sorry for never showing it enough…never again will I make the same mistake.”

Only when you quietened, bearing your heart to him, that you finally noticed his ragged breathing, the hard rise and fall of his chest—the tears that spilled from his stunned eyes. He could hardly speak, perfect brows knitting, a million thoughts running through his head in the seconds that he stared. 

You watched the anarchy on his face, anticipating the worst. 

“Jeonghan?”

His name upon your lips was the last straw. 

The greatest film star in the world grabbed your waist with both hands and pulled you in. 

The kiss that welcomed you freed you of every worry you had ever harboured.

You almost moaned in relief, instantly wrapping yourself around him as you reciprocated. Your mouth moved along with his, an age-old rhythm that you had mastered only with him, because he was the only one who could render you putty in his hold. You could taste the salt of his tears, which had travelled down to his mouth, and your fingers upon his cheeks tightened—tightening because you were the reason for these tears, and never again would you let this dear man weep silently over you. 

Jeonghan’s desperation, in the way he tugged your hips so close that it snuffed out the remaining distance, tied to his own hips, was much too obvious. You had never even realised how much he had waited for you, yearned for you as the entire world watched his every movement.

He had never tasted chaos as bitter as when he was apart from you. 

You broke his heart that day in your hotel room—he knew, deep down, that you were regressing into your ancient fears, but that time, he did not think he could wait for you again. Five long, hard, aching years, he could only watch you from a distance, lest the papers tear you apart as they did him. Five years he witnessed firsthand your steady destruction, the alliances turning against your image as you ruined yourself to the industry; all that time, he stood and did nothing, because he knew that you had sealed your fate the moment you abided by the rules of Hollywood.

But he was lying if he said he had not languished over you. 

When he found you in the dark hallways of the Louvre, looking for Psyche and Cupid reuniting all those weeks ago, he first believed himself following a whimsical script, written by the subconscious, aching wisps of his heart. He could not help indulging in you, wanting you so desperately it was as if he had never aged in your separation. He could not even expose how many times he had relived the first stages of your relationship—how many times he had captured the same photo you had stared mere minutes ago. 

So when you came knocking on your door as if your life depended on it, admitting to your mistakes…how could he not accept—no, delight in your changed behaviour? Of course, nothing could have described his devastation in the past weeks, but your promises to him was all he wished for—all he ever needed in his life. 

So as Jeonghan pushed you back, drinking the desire that spilled from your mouth, clumsy in his steps, he needed you to realise that he would never leave—even if you hurt him a thousand times over. 

Your back hit the wall, the impact breaking away from his mouth—your momentary gasps gave him enough incentive to latch onto your neck, his s every soft kiss planted making you whimper. Perhaps any other rendezvous would have been so much more hectic—full of rage and excitement, but this was so different. What used to be broken curses on heated skin, promises of ruination had become soft murmurs, half-voiced questions of going further, prayers of thanks to whatever you two believed in which brought the two of you back together. 

Slowly, with every love bite softly carved by his teeth, his hands were also working slyly, sliding to the buttons of your black trousers. Your own hands sought refuge in his curls, the frenzied frizz of his black locks which felt like home underneath your fingers. Only when he successfully unbuttoned the front, feeling his mouth leave your neck and make a trail down your chest did you falter. Dipping your head to see him kiss your clothed abdomen, he descended on his knees, facing the unbuttoned glory of the trousers. 

Fingers hooking to the waistband, he tugged your trousers down, all the way to your ankles where you shed them from your feet, legs now bare before him. His changing expression had you gulping down at his image.

With trembling fingers he skimmed your skin till they found the waistband on your sides. Slowly, too slowly for you, he tugged them down, savouring the sight till your cunt was on show, and you could have been snuffed out from the look in his eyes as they sparked to life. 

You had almost forgotten how extraordinary he looked in this position. 

His curls barely touched your thighs, shifting closer as he blew a gush of air towards your core, relishing the shiver that he felt through your body. 

“Jeonghan…” You were so on edge, holding the wall. “What are you stalling for?”

His words fanned your cunt—fluttering you alive. “You said…did you not? That you had been selfish?” 

His head tilted upwards, catching your daze. “Is it not my turn to indulge?” 

You could have collapsed to the floor. 

“May I?” he asked you, a mere breath.

Because you could not say a word, you could only nod, a little too enthusiastically. 

Jeonghan’s tongue sliding past your slit had you closing your eyes.

He collected the arousal that glistened, languid in his process—he dared not quicken too quickly, fearing a rushed ending, terrified he would ruin something he had recreated in his dreams. Your taste, your hypnotic taste was even finer than the arousal he had lapped up in his mind, separating your legs even further to fully capture you in his mouth. His tongue had struck liquid treasure, journeying up your folds, and your breathing turned even, harsher with every stroke.

Your breaths then hitched entirely when he stumbled upon your clit. 

His tongue and your clit could have been soulmates, the way he latched onto the bud, circling like an enthusiastic dog around its owner. He was a broken record, singing the same lamentations of how long he had been waiting to devour you, but he could not stop himself. He hummed at the reactions that elicited from your own tongue. Every little sound that escaped from you was further motivation, a confirmation that you had not moved on from his touches.

And how could you have done?

The memories were flooding in the hazy gates of your mind, flashbacks of him kneeling in all corners of the world—sucking on your clit in the darkness of the London bars, stuffing his face in the districts of Bangkok, unravelling you in the gardens of Marrakech. Which continent had he not travelled to delve within you, both of you always drunk out of your minds, but never quite forgetting the passions that still remained rampant to this day.

Now, in this small, Parisian apartment, with no one to dare spy on the two of you—no one but the posters on the walls, or the pictures on the board—the film noir star could rest easy, stone cold sober, as he glided his tongue on your bundle of nerves. He gripped your thighs, his jaw opening wider, and your legs threatened to buckle from under you. 

He was giving his all, his ministrations laced with a helplessness you had never sensed before. As if you were going to slip away from him, he held onto you with a certain determination, almost as if in any second, you would run away again, break his heart for the last time.

That could have broken your own soul.

Your hands went to his hair, carding through the mess of curls, ruining them even more. You held onto him because you needed him to understand that you were not going anywhere, not anymore. Your fingers, threading into his locks, making him feel your presence—he had to get through his head that your screw ups ended at this moment. 

When he began to quicken at your touches, you would have abandoned every bad decision you thought of ever making. 

You stole a glance down, blinking heavily back at the sight. 

It was like the image of a holy man, kneeling at the altar of his god; perhaps more would have resorted to religion if they saw the way Jeonghan worshipped you with his mouth, over and over again like a neverending mass. 

Seeing him speeding up his rhythm firsthand had your whimpers gaining a voice, the small of your back tensing up. You were constricting, fidgeting much harder in his grasp. 

If his tongue was not enough, then the man let one of your sides free from his grip. Those fingers then crept closer, his mouth never stopping as he slipped one inside. The surprise of the digit entering had you gasping, the hold on his hair unsteady as it nearly filled you up. 

You delighted in its presence, even more so when you felt the pleasure of it leaving you. Your walls began to pulsate when the finger came back, a steady pattern Jeonghan knew was your favourite. You suppose it should not have been such a surprise, but he knew you too damn well. He knew which little things would make you lose your very senses, follow his trail till the end of time.

He was faster now, leading you closer and closer to your release, which felt so imminent. You could almost taste its remnants, the dull ache threatening to course through your body.

“J-Jeonghan—!” you got out, shaking in his hold, even in your speech. “I’m so—fuck, I’m so close—”

But you did not have to say a single word, because he could sense your incoming release, controlled by his fingers, his tongue. To know he held the power of your undoing thrilled him.

Even after all this time, you followed the melody of his music, and no one else’s.

Your ex-lover softly teethed your clit, his finger diving into you to the knuckle.

You could not restrain yourself any longer. 

With a final gasp you let yourself go, your orgasm singing your body to life, freeing you from the dull throbbing caused by his truly. The constriction snapped, and your legs could not take you anymore—you would have collapsed on the ground had his hand on your hip not stopped the fall.

Quickly sliding his finger out, you felt hollow with his tongue leaving too. As he pulled away, holding you on both sides, he let you slide down till you were at level with him. 

You stole a peek at his slick finger, then his slicker lips. You parted yours when he licked his mouth, savouring the taste of you. 

“You have no idea,” he began, voice much raspier, “How long I’ve been wanting to do that.”

But you could not respond to him, legs still numb, mouth still slightly agape by the frenzied sight of him. You thought you were done, but then he confided this to you, and all the desire that you thought had been released was churning once again. 

How manic you had become, how insatiable your hunger had transformed for him—exactly how he had prayed at your altar, you could have clasped your hands in devotion before him, begging him to never stop.

So you tried to muster this urgency when you asked him, quietly, but not softly, “Then why have you stopped here?” 

You brought your hands to his face, relishing in the warmth of his cheeks. “Have we not…not waited far too long to come to this?”

He leaned in further, nodding absentmindedly as he stared at your lips. “Too fucking long, mon ange.” 

And he swooped in once more, enveloping your lips with his, because it was not enough, and he needed more. Thank God his thirst had not satiated, because you did not think you would have retained your sanity had he been done then and there. You were still reeling over from your release, only just finding feeling in your legs. Even so, perhaps you did not even need feeling, because, as he was sliding his tongue through the seam of your lips, his hands found refuge under your knees, your back. 

His mouth drowned out your gasp as you were lifted in his arms, you instinctively wrapping your arms around him as he led you to his midnight-clouded bed. Gently he settled upon the soft sheets, laying you down as he broke away for a fleeting moment. 

He was making to take his shirt off, fingers resting on the hem when you stopped him, hands on his.

“Let me,” you whispered. “Let me do at least one thing for you.”

Jeonghan blinked back, catching the gentle request in your eyes. He could not have accepted fast enough, pressing kisses to the corners of your lips, your jaw as your wavering hands raised the shirt off him, tossing it to the side. You caught the sight of his slender frame, and could not stop yourself as your fingers skimmed the soft skin of his abdomen. To think no one had seen the sliver of his shoulders, let alone the waist-up nakedness—no television screen, no secret reporter had captured him the way he was over you, watching you admire him shamelessly. He could only raise his groomed brows at you, tugging at your own shirt, which was buttoned to the top. 

“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he murmured, unbuttoning the layers one by one. “Or I couldn’t…I could never leave.”

As your shirt accompanied his, you asked him, voice barely out as he drank in the lace of your bra, “Do you want to?” 

But his finger was trailing the hem of your strap, urging you to lift yourself only a little as he unclipped it with one hand, all the while watching the hesitance of your own fingers as you pulled his trousers down. His eyes may have darted all over your bare figure, your shifting demeanour, but he did not waver. Even as the last of his layers were being uncovered, peeling away his trousers, his boxer briefs, no one tried to shy away, even when there was nothing left to hide away in for the two of you.

You supposed seeing Yoon Jeonghan naked should have burst you into cinders. 

Sure, you were heating up at the mere sight of him, but an overwhelming nostalgia washed over your mind—it was as if your heart, too, was moving strangely along with the thrums of your desire. It had been so long, and you did not—could not—even comprehend finding yourself at this stage. Even your ex-lover’s stare had faltered, turning heavy-lidded. 

Finally…finally he was experiencing the events of his dreams.

As he towered over you, guiding his cock that you could not stop looking at, his other hand found a home at your hips. He could hardly focus, the memories of your first time with him, and so many times afterwards, rushing with his one move. The tip teased your entrance, staining it with your returning arousal, and you hitched in a sharp breath.

No—you should not look at Jeonghan like he was the last piece of the puzzle of your happiness, as if he held the power to salvage the destruction you had caused. You asked him, in that sweet hushed whisper that raised his temperature, whether you would ever leave him, and it could have pained him that you had to ask in the first place. 

“Never,” he rasped out, curls moving along his face as he drifted closer. “Leave you…?” He shook his head slowly, his nose brushing yours with every shake. “Never again.”

With that, he indulged in his greatest fantasy, one he harboured the moment he declared his love for you.

His cock slid further inside, and you gripped his shoulder, a whimper prying out of your mouth without any restraint. God, he was filling you up, more so than you imagined. Maybe you had not made love to anyone in such a while, and had forgotten the feeling.

But you had not forgotten sex with Jeonghan—or at least you thought, because nothing could have braced you for the feeling of him inside you.

“There,” he said softly, a phantom smile appearing as he bottomed out in you, ragged breathing exposing. “Just like that, mon ange.” He raised his fingers to your mouth, thumb playing with your lip. “Need you to…ah, moan just like that.”

“Jeonghan…” you murmured, too bewildered by the feeling of your walls clenching around him to respond to his broken whispers. “So good…feels so good.”

His smile could have cured all your heartache. “Good,” he said, the soft plush of his mouth caressing yours. Even with all the distance snuffed out, he completely engulfed you with his presence, his locks tickling your cheeks. You could not breathe any oxygen, but the man above you, labouring inside of you…could oxygen not be replaced by his presence? Could you not have inhaled his very scent into your bones, lived off the desire sparking in his wild eyes?

Then, he began to pull out, tilting his back head slightly to watch your pupils dilating, brows drawing together, gasping slightly at the feeling. He wished he could bottle the moment, necklace the image and perch it on his heart forever. You were so in sync to his movements, reacting so well to his cock, that he wondered whether you were made just for him. A selfish pondering, of course, but Jeonghan’s newfound greed seemed to overwhelm him. 

“So beautiful,” he whispered to you, voice lowering an octave as he kept moving, creating a rhythm so spellbinding you could not help following along. “You look so…so beautiful under me, I—”

He thrust inside you again once he was barely teasing your folds, and you swore he hit a spot that had you seeing stars. Perhaps you could have transcended into another world, another galaxy which was made just for the two of you—no one would watch over you and him, and you could bask in each other forever, without the prying eyes of the world you were in. His knitted brows, his heavy-lidded eyes, dazing over—his slick, parted mouth, his unruly hair, matting with sweat. Everything you scrutinised, painting him in your mind so you could never forget, putting this Jeonghan on the pedestal of your memories. 

Too long—too long you had simply lived in the past.

It was time for you to live in the present.

Wrapping your legs around him, you took him in even deeper, hands sliding up from his shoulder to his face, caressing his raven locks on the way. “Look at you,” he kept saying, because he still could not believe you were here, taking him so well, eliciting sounds that could have had the dead flustered in their graves. “So pretty while you take my cock—ah!” He could not even finish properly, his mind clouding. His own interruption stirred something dark, something delicious inside you.

He was moving a little quicker, gliding the two of you upon midnight sheets. “Faster, mon ange?” he asked you between kisses. You nodded enthusiastically, without even realising, and he chuckled slightly, fanning your face. “No, darling, I…words, I need your words.”

You did not think you could even muster a single thing to oblige him, but the familiar feeling, pulsating at the small of your back, returned. “Faster, please,” you got out, and he obliged you, fastening his pace—the moment your whimpers morphed into pants, he knew he was doing something right. Once he quickened, the dull thrum slowly returned, barely even noticeable at first. Because the man inside you knew you more than you knew yourself, he was aware just how to bring you to that moment.

But he was going to cherish this first.

Even while he picked up the pace, a part of him was too terrified to let these moments end. 

Already you could barely form full sentences, and he knew that soon, he would sense your very release impending. You were so good to him, so exceptional, better than all the dreams he had experienced in dark nights from years ago. You were quite possibly everything he had secretly hoped, and to think he had only glimpses in these years…he would make sure to never have you doubt him again.

“Close,” you began, losing a slight grip on your senses with his pattern, his cock that you had not realised you missed. “I-I’m close—”

But he could tell from impeding moans, drowning out his own breathless grunts, slowly losing his own control over his movements. He nodded hurriedly, fastening some more.

This time, his thrusts became erratic, all of his praises incoherent as he teethed love-bites onto your skin, burying his face in your shoulder. He whispered sweet praises in your ear as he pounded into you, and you were certain that you would never regain sanity again after all of this was over. If his cock was not enough, then he brought his fingers into the midst, prodding at your clit to entice even more pleasure. You were whining onto his skin, his mouth, needing him to undo you before you burst under his hold.

“F-fuck, angel,” he breathed out, all his strength being used in pleasuring you fully. “Even more beautiful than my dreams—!” 

It was not as if you were making it any easier for him.

No, the film noir star was breaking, tearing at the seams, because you were moaning sweet nothings to him, words he could not make out, until you chanted his name. Jeonghan! Jeonghan! Jeonghan! you kept begging, and it dawned on him that all his devotion was finally reaping its reward. You, a star who had never bowed to anyone, were thrashing and shaking from his touches, pleading for release only he could bestow, and now, he was the altar you prayed to with a sinner’s desperation. 

Because the two of you had finally found each other after fate had tried to pull you apart, he would listen. Because, after years of separation, a plethora of misunderstandings, untold feelings, and an infinite amount of silences gone far too long, he would finally break these horrid curses.

Because the man was utterly in love with you, he would never dismiss your pleas.

So, with one final collision of his lips against yours, he worked overtime as his cock plunged into you one last time, your bundle of nerves never resting from the circling of his fingers. 

You cried onto his shoulder as your orgasm crashed through, electric as it pulsed through your body, legs shaking under his hands. Blinking hurriedly, you felt him slither out of you, just in time for his own orgasm. He stained his midnight sheets of his release, collapsing right next to you with a soft, low curse. 

As the two of you tried to recover from your ministrations, both chests unevenly rising, falling, arms touching, you stared up at the ceiling, your heart pumping in your ears.

Oh my God.

You could not believe it. 

After what felt like twenty lifetimes, you had finally found Jeonghan—found him, and managed to keep him, despite everything.

Your old habits would have you doubting this whole event happened, but even you knew you should allow yourself this happy certainty. 

You gazed at the black walls, the small lights in the middle. As the blood pumping in your ears began to simmer down, you heard more clearly his broken huffs—the beginnings of a laugh that barely bubbled out of his mouth.

Catching onto it, you turned on your side, looking at his closed eyes, and the corner of his lips which curved upwards. “What’s the laugh for?” 

Although he swayed his head, as if waving off your question, he spoke up after a moment. “I just…I can’t believe you ran after a bus for me.”

When he caught the exasperation on your face, he almost glowed with amusement. “I nearly fell off the back of it, too,” you grated out, almost creasing from the memory. “Everybody just gawked as I got on.”

He shifted, facing you. “I suppose it is not everyday you see a famous actress running after public transport.”

“Infamous, more like,” you corrected. “Well…it is pointless now…” you paused, biting your lip. “I suppose I shall have to get used to it…”

A slight tick of his head. “How so?”

“Seungcheol will never give me the part,” you explained in dejection. When you looked at him, though, you tried to smile. “But truly, it doesn’t matter anymore. I would give it up for you again.”

The man twisted his mouth, but not particularly in a smile. “My dear, I don’t want you to give up your livelihood for me.”

He propped his head in his hand, elbow resting on his pillows. “All I want is for you to realise that you can have everything should you wish it. You do not need to discard the people you love to continue to watch you enjoy.”

You took in his comments. “But Jeonghan,” you said, a little nervous, “What if…” Sighing, you mustered some strength. “Jeonghan, what if you do not like this version of me? The one who might always be a little scared of facing everyone?”

When you saw an untamed grin morphing his beautiful mouth, you had the nerve to be slightly irritated. “What?”

Reaching out, he held your chin between his fingers, “Do you really have to ask me of my feelings after what we have just done?”

He felt the warmth spreading to your face beneath his tongue, furthering his delight. “_____,” he said, “You travelled half of Paris to find me, despite your fears. You braved the daylight for me, angel, when all you found safety was in the darkness of midnight.”

His eyes were wild and free and intense and alive. “I love you, chérie. I loved you the moment I set my eyes on you in that afterparty, and I will never stop…I don’t think I could stop.”

You parted your mouth.

But then you had to close it again, because your heartbeat fluttered out of your skin, your vision going blurry.

This time, it was not the alcohol ruining it, but the blasted tears returning.

“Jeonghan,” you rasped out, resting a shaking hand over his collarbone, “I-I love you so much—”

Before the waterworks completely took over you, the film noir star leaned in, tilting his head as he enveloped his lips with yours, cherishing the hums that left you. 

Jeonghan was not leaving.

He saw the worst, and had decided to stay.

You were so scared—terrified that today would mark the worst moments of your life, but of course, this enigmatic man had saved you once again. You were sure that you would never be able to repay the debts of his kindness, but you finally realised that this came naturally when you were the object of one’s affections.

You did not realise that you were the sole receiver.

You felt yourself smiling against his mouth.

Jeonghan did not ever have to worry again—that was for sure.

Because, after the waiting, the anguish, this bubbling of anticipation, the storm had passed in the end. You were here, right next to the man you had never quite stopped feeling for.

And you knew that, despite whatever the press, the public, anyone threw at the two of you now, you and Jeonghan would survive it.

It was like you confessed—you could sacrifice the universe.

You could not sacrifice Jeonghan.

Yoon Jeonghan—the greatest film star alive, the most beloved object of the world’s affections, your once ex-lover.

Well.

Not an ex anymore.

LE FRANCE-SOIR, 14TH JANUARY, 1955

THE PRINCESS OF HOLLYWOOD’S SURPRISING RETURN IN SEUNGCHEOL FILM!

Yes, you read it right—our very own infamous star, _____, is back in our papers, but this time, she has saved herself! Our sources tell us that she has landed herself the lead role in a Choi Productions film, and is set to be the biggest release of this year! Who would have thought that with everything she had done, and experienced the consequences of, she would be back to dominate our screens! 

As well as her films, she seems to have excelled in her romantic liaisons! Here are some exclusive pictures of her and her old flame Jeonghan, hand-in-hand as they wander the streets of Paris together. It has been a couple of months since they were first seen together after five years. Many of our readers believe it will not last, just as they did not the first time.

But who knows anymore? We could not predict our Princess being disgraced, nor could we imagine her climbing back up. Perhaps this new adventure with the greatest star in the world is more than a five-year fancy.

We will keep all our readers updated on their journey together! We believe that this will not be the last time we see them together.

Perhaps they are, after all, meant to be.

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL’S PERFECT EYEBROWS RAISED TO THE ANCIENT CEILING AS HE REGARDED YOU.

You shifted under his gaze, tightening your jacket around yourself. It was not particularly cold, considering it was the beginning of the year, but the way he looked at you with a strange sense of surprise had your discomfort growing. 

Seungkwan, watching the bizarre scene, tapped his foot impatiently against the marble floors of the Louvre. “What’s with the ogling, old man? Don’t you have a film to look over?”

The director slid his withering stare to the agent. “First of all, why are you here? Last time I remembered, you were _____’s little servant, not an actor.” The accused was ready to start shouting at the comment, but he continued. “Second,” he said, looking at you again, “You are early. I was not expecting you for another half-hour.”

“Do you frown upon punctuality?” you asked him, ignoring Seungkwan’s hushed protests. 

“No, actually…I’m rather shocked when someone exudes it.” Seungcheol cocked his head. “Especially since you are known for being late.”

Biting your lip in embarrassment, you willed your hands to your sides. “I’m aware of my…behaviour…” Distant memories flashed in your mind—memories of yourself you would rather forget. “Take this as me making amends.”

“Amends?” He clicked his tongue. “We will see how quickly you will resort to your old habits.”

Your dear agent crossed his arms. “All this attitude, yet you still gave _____ the leading role.”

“Well…” he turned on his heel. “Take this as me believing your amends.” He began to walk forward, expecting you both to follow. “But you better not expect any special treatment.”

You could only sigh, looking behind you at the museum entrance, where a mass of people were gathered outside, stopped only by a dozen security guards. With one momentary glance at Seungkwan, who only rolled his eyes, the two of you trailed after the director’s steps, further into the fine hallways of the Louvre.

It was all true—Seungcheol had offered you the role that you had auditioned for, nearly two weeks ago.

You could not believe the news at first—your agent could not either, although he was the messenger. He bothered the director with numerous phone calls, making sure that he was not being fooled, but when the elder threatened to kick you off the role, the younger screamed and ended the call, confirming your suspicions.

The greatest filmmaker in Hollywood decided to place his trust in you. It felt unbelievable, considering people were still whispering about your months-old scandal. However, when the papers began to circulate news of your contract with Choi productions, the malicious gossip had begun to alleviate.

It was as Seungkwan had predicted—you only needed one big film to turn your life around.

So here you were, following the man who decided to give you a chance in the industry into a palace-turned-museum you had visited one too many times during your visit. 

What was once a quiet sanctuary in the middle of the night had become a bustling palace filled with the film crew—the hallways were decked with cameramen, makeup artists, costume designers, running around and hurrying to their tasks. Some of the film crew spoke to the extra security guards that Seungcheol had stationed, in case a manic fan managed to sneak past the entrances. There were orders being shouted at every corner, half of the requests being lost in rapid French.

“Is Seokmin back yet?” Seungcheol demanded from his head cameraman, who had rushed over to him, providing details of the scene you were beginning with. When the man informed him of why your co-star was so indisposed, the director made sure everyone heard his irritated sigh. “Jesus, just tell him to hurry up!”

As you kept sneaking glances behind you, Seungkwan followed your vision, patting you on the shoulder. “Stop fretting, _____. He said he could not come today.”

“I know…” But you could not help your slight dejection. “I hope I can see him in the evening, at least.”

“My goodness!” A scoff. “Perhaps you should save the melodrama for when the cameras start rolling.”

You shot him a glower. “Maybe Seungcheol is right in wanting to throw you out.”

As the director led you into the exhibitions’ wing, you began to take in the familiar artwork, the dozens of Psyches and Cupids now separated. Although you missed all the interpretations you had seen that night, all those months ago, you wondered where the star attraction might be. 

“_____.”

You turned to the director, who skimmed over a few details on his clipboard, provided by his assistant. “You are on makeup. Now, what I wanted was a professional working on you, but I received a special request about two days prior from a friend to work on the set cosmetics.”

“Oh,” you got out, slightly confused. “Where do I need to go?”

Seungcheol pointed at the end of the hall, down to the next room, where the costume crew was located. “Do whatever you wish, but you better not be in front of the cameras caked like a clown.” 

“Of course,” you reassured him, but the confusion had not disappeared. “Who was the friend?”

The director twisted his lips. “Enough asking, more following!” 

“All right, all right!” you rushed out, shaking your head as you followed the path he explained. The artworks still revolved around your favourite subjects as you walked closer to the grand doorways, but you did not see your most prized sculpture.

You did not see Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss until you stepped into the costume crew’s domain. 

Hundreds of outfits had been hung in racks, creating an easier way to transport all the clothing from set to set. The hall was bustling too, men and women either fixing a dress or a skirt, checking the products were up to standard, or being distracted as they admired the classical masterpieces around them.

What distracted you, though, for a single second, was your favourite sculpture, out on display in the middle of the chaos. 

What held your distraction for a lifetime was the man before it.

“Jeonghan?”

The said-actor looked up from his papers, catching sight of you.

When his smile lit up his entire face, you could have floated in the clouds of the Louvre’s ceilings, among the godly figures that were painted, watching the reunion.

Immediately you ran over to him, taking little care for the people around you as you jumped into his arms. His laughter vibrated through your body as he held you tightly, resting his head in the space of your shoulder. 

When you finally pulled away, holding him at arms’ length, you bombarded him with questions. “Why are you here? I mean, I’m delighted you are here, but you said you couldn’t come! What happened?”

“I couldn’t miss your first day of work!” His fingers locked behind your back. “I asked Cheol to let me stay on set. Since he’s a pain in everyone’s ass, he said I couldn’t be here unless I made myself useful.”

He looked around, jerking his head to everyone’s stations. “So that’s why I suggested I help with makeup and the like.”

“Ah, so you’re the friend he was complaining about,” you figured. “I trust you since your own makeup has been done quite well.”

“Quite well?” He narrowed his eyes in excessive pride. “Darling, I was expecting never ending praises of my work.”

You raised your chin. “I will sing your praises when you don’t ruin my face after we’re done.”

“I cannot promise you that.”

Glancing at the exit, you mused, “Perhaps it’s not too late to run out of here…”

Chuckling, he turned you around, gesturing for you to sit in the two free chairs beside your favourite sculpture. “Here, sit,” he said, grabbing a small bag on the makeshift tables, right next to the racks of clothing. After settling himself down, he opened the zipper, looking through the contents given by the head artist in the crew. “Right…onto the makeup…”

You watched him inspect each cosmetic, checking too intently at the bottles of foundation, circles of powder, or small tubes of lipstick that he opened and twisted. When he pulled out an eyebrow pencil, his own furrowed, puzzlement clear in his features.

“Jeonghan…” you could barely contain your smile. “Do you know what half of these products are used for?”

“Of course!” He looked intently at the pencil. “This pencil…well, obviously it is used for…hmm…” 

He then looked at you, cocking his head. “Right…” He put the pencil back in the bag. “You know what? You do not need makeup! No need to add to perfection, as I always say.”

“Are you complimenting me because you don’t know what a brow pencil is used for?”

“Brow pencil?” He gawked at the bag. “Is that what it’s called?”

“Seungcheol would have your head if he heard us,” you warned, taking the bag from the actor. “Here, I will add the makeup myself. You sit here and look pretty.”

“That,” he announced, smirking, “I can do without a problem.”

You only shook your head, bringing out the different products, starting with the powder. You made Jeonghan hold up a small mirror as you began, slowly adding the layers of makeup that you had grown accustomed to. As you continued your progress, your dear actor watched, admiring how smoothly you applied each puff of the powder, each thin coat of foundation. 

When you opened the tiny container of block mascara, you leaned into the mirror, gently stroking your lashes against the open end of the stick. It was when you were applying your mascara when you were asked a question.

“How are you feeling about today?”

You inspected your lashes—they needed more work. “Nervous,” you replied honestly, adding a little more tint. “I mean, I am excited too, but…it’s been so long.” 

“No, of course.” He shifted the mirror to your other eye. “Your last project was a couple of years back, right?”

Humming in confirmation, you added the mascara to the next set. “I know I’m a good actress, Jeonghan, but…I just…I don’t want to go back to how I was.” You closed the stick back, tossing it in the bag. “The drinking, the fighting…I can’t let it happen again.”

You then brought out the eyeliner, trying to create a perfect wing on your left eye. “If I screw this up, then…it truly would be over for me. I wouldn’t deserve anything in the future…” You paused, realising you drew the line crooked. “Damn it.”

Your dear beau smiled at your mistake. “Wait, hold this.” Taking the mirror from him, he then took the eyeliner from you. Fingers reaching out, he held your jaw, pulling you closer to him. “Let me.”

Although your heart fluttered at the action, you still got out, “Are you sure you know what you are doing?”

He slid his gaze to you. “I doubt I can ruin it any more than you have.”

“Get your hands off me this instant.”

“Wait, wait!” he said between huffs of laughter. “Just close your eyes. Let me fix it.”

“Fine,” you mumbled out, obliging him.

Jeonghan looked at you for a moment, eyes closed, waiting for him to begin.

He thought about what you had said to him just now. 

Bringing the point of the liner to the inner corner of your eye, he knew he could not shy away from the truth—what you experienced after the end of your relationship with him was possibly the roughest downfall Hollywood had seen during that decade. He may not have spoken to you during those five years, but he had certainly witnessed and heard what everyone had written and said of you. Of course, he was aware that the press had exaggerated in every article or talk show to gain a reaction, but at the end of the day, your erratic behaviour was the beginning of all the negative exposure.

But you were in front of him now—readying yourself for a Seungcheol production, as patient as a parent with a child, as peaceful as the Parisian night. You had owned your mistakes, apologised to the people you had hurt.

With a slow, yet steady pace, he carefully lined your eyelid, finishing off with a perfect wing.

You had admitted to your faults, and endeavoured to amend them. That alone can take an immense amount of strength.

“Change does not occur overnight, mon ange,” he said to you, turning to the other, naked eyelid. “I fear people will always bring up the past and make you relive it, even if your future may be secure. It is always disheartening, when they compare you to the ghost of what you were.”

With the same, tender pace, he drew the second line, comparing the original to make sure they were identical. All the while, he continued. “But you must remember that you are trying. The press can talk whatever nonsense they conjure to gain attention, but the people who care for you see that you want to change, are trying to change.”

When he was done, he admired his work—then, he admired you, your lips twisting at his words. “If we as people are not allowed to change, then the world will become a little dull, don’t you think?” 

“Besides…” he put the eyeliner back in the bag. “Even with all this change, one thing will remain stagnant.”

You felt his eyes on you, his fingers sliding to your face. 

“Always remember that my love for you will never falter.”

You opened your eyes. 

There he was, looking at you as if he held the universe in his hands.

And as you finally felt Psyche and Cupid’s presence beside the two of you, in their pose of eternal yearning, you smiled at him, confiding in an intimate truth.

“Thank you for saving me.”

Jeonghan’s smile faltered.

He was quite sure that if he said anything to you, then you would catch on to the tremble of his voice.

So he did not say anything, only closing the distance, enveloping his lips with yours. You happily complied to the sweet kiss, as if absorbing the longing of the two deities and taking it for yourselves. 

It would have gone a little further when you were interrupted by a guttural groan at the doorway. You broke away from your actor’s lips, whirling your head to see Seungcheol glaring at you two.

“Just when I thought I could trust Jeonghan,” he began, crossing his arms, “He goes and plays tonsil tennis with my lead actress.”

Your beloved grinned as you hid your head in embarrassment. “It was your fault for trusting me, Cheol. You should know better after knowing me so long.”

“My mistake, you bastard,” seethed the elder. “And as for you, _____! Tell me your makeup is done or I am firing you this second.”

Instantly you shot up from your seat. “Jesus, Seungcheol, I’m ready!” you exclaimed, dusting at your dress. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

“Hurry up,” was his next order before thundering out of the room.

Jeonghan waved him off as you sighed heavily. “Don’t fret too much over him. He won’t do anything, really.”

“That’s because he actually likes you,” you countered, touching your lips. “Damn! We forgot the lipstick.”

“No, no, the look is better without it.” A glimmer appeared in his gaze. “Even better that we didn’t add it before, or else it would have stained.”

“How resourceful of you,” you monotoned, as if your cheeks did not burn. “Now, let’s go before he has both our heads. I refuse to die after I have just landed a good role.”

Both of you exited the costume hall, entering back to the main set. The bustling of the camera crew instantly began the moment Seungcheol began voicing orders, humming in approval at his lighting crew, who offered him suggestions. He then addressed everyone as you came into view. “All right, all right, everybody, let’s get into positions!”

He pointed his pen at you. “_____, I want you at the first doorway. This is the scene where she’s waiting for Richard to arrive, and admires the artwork around her.” 

“Perfect,” you said, walking to your position. 

He shot his assistant a withering look. “And for God’s sake, get Seokmin out of the goddamn lavatory this instant! We’ll be finished with the whole movie at this rate!” The poor man only nodded hurriedly before running out of the hall. “Where’s the slate?”

But the camera assistant who held the slate was already before you, waiting for the director’s orders as you prepared yourself, going over the lines one last time. 

Seungkwan and Jeonghan were right behind the cameras, watching you practise. The former raised his fist, a signal of his belief in you. You sent him a quick nod, letting yourself smile at him because if there was one person you had to thank for this opportunity, then it was your dear agent, and even dearer friend.

The latter only had his hands in his trench coat pockets, eyes never straying from you.

“Right!” Seungcheol clapped his hands, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Let us do _____’s solo scene first.” He settled in the seat behind the main camera, held up by a huge tripod. 

Signalling the camera assistant, she commenced, “Scene 4, Take 1!” With the click of the slate, she hurried out of view.

This was it.

The final call was going to begin.

You locked your hands behind your back, allowing yourself one last look at your ex-lover. 

No, not ex-lover—never ex. 

He smiled at you. An action so little had every nerve in your body easing.

You could do this.

“Lights!”

You could not believe you were finally here. 

If you had told yourself that you would be in this position the moment you entered this mystical city, you would have never had faith in such a prediction. Your chances had vanished, your fortune had run dry. You truly thought that it was over for you when you landed in this fated city,  thinking that you were begging to an absent god, relying on the empty promises of strangers. 

But you were okay. You were going to be all right.

Because you deserved this. 

“Camera!”

And as your film noir star had rightfully told you, it was not going to be easy, changing from your old, hard habits. It would be a long path, perhaps filled with the same old adversaries. The press was still there, perhaps it always will be. Now, you would not have to fight it alone.

You would have Yoon Jeonghan by your side—and he was not going anywhere anytime soon.

This time, you would never let him go.

You slipped him one last smile before your eyes slid to the camera.

You were ready.

“ACTION!”

a u t h o r ’ s  n o t e : hello everyone i can’t believe y’all have reached the end!! it means so much to me especially for this fic because i never thought paris would ever be finished :’) i have so many people to thank for bringing this work to life—chia, your paris! chan fanart and drawings have been on my mind for the past two years, and all your gushing encouraged me to keep writing (even tho i floored chan im so sorry). Secondly, this is for the Lysol GC! The way you bitches bullied me everytime I scrapped paris since 2020…. HORRENDOUS…but from the bullying to reading over my drafts and encouraging me everytime i hit a block, i would never have finished this fic if it wasn’t for you three <33 and lastly, thank you YSL Jeonghan—you did what my previous ult biases could not inspire me to write !! thank you once again, everyone, for reading, and let me know if y’all enjoyed <3

t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld​ @dalkyeom​ @sysymei​ @alaypsy23​ @belladaisies​ @jjeongddol​@sparklyshuji @forcoups​ @ilovesungjun​ @wonwoo24​ @scandal-in-bohemia​ @hopefulchick​ @superbbananananana​ @onedumbho3​ @fragmentof-indifference​ @cuntycheol​ @rubywonu​ @if-i-like-i-reblog​ @yoonzinoooo​ @jungwoos-luvr​ @crookedwolfruins​ @leclercloverbot​ @alexai 

[a-hazbin-reader]

I would like to see how Alastor's mother meets the reader (when they were alive). I see almost nothing of Alastor's mother and I feel that she is a wonderful mother ヾ(≧▽≦*)o

Alastor lovers would be NOTHING without this woman, she should be WORSHIPPED

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: None I think???

Description: ☝️⬆️

Alastor's mother was his entire world, all the love and affection in his life came from her

The way he learned to love he learned from her

So you have her to thank for that

Which is why you're so fucking nervous to meet her, if she doesn't like you then you feel like your relationship is doomed

Not that Alastor would leave you at the drop of a hat but you just couldn't make him choose, you love him too much for that

You're fretting over everything, your hair, your clothes, your perfume-

E V E R Y T H I N G

It's not until you feel a strong hand on your shoulder and look into Alastor's eyes that you realize you were panicking

He's smiling at you, he's always smiling, but you can tell you worried him

"Sorry...it's just...I'm nervous..."

You're being pulled into his warm embrace before you can say anything more, familiar fingers pushing your chin up

You feel a pleasant shudder go through you as you meet Alastor's eyes, soaking up the affection that radiates from them

"Now now, a little dinner has you this worked up~?"

"What if she doesn't like me?"

He's leaning in closer, never breaking your gaze as his lips brush against your own, his canines glinting almost like fangs-

"Why wouldn't she like you? If I love you then she'll surely love you too..."

God, this woman raised such a good man

If Alastor was being honest with you, he's a bit nervous too but not in a bad way

He's excited for his two favorite people to meet, he's excited to show off each of you to the other so that you both understand his love for you two

He's just so ecstatic that this is finally happening

Coos and soothes you the entire walk to his mother's house, knowing that you're nervous but understanding that you have no reason to be

Alastor lets himself in and you're immediately welcomed with the scent of delicious food cooking

You can hear his mother in the kitchen, the table not yet fully set

Alastor leaves your side to hug his mother in greeting, laughing a little when he startles the old woman

She's beautiful even though she's no longer a young woman, you see a lot of her in her son

"Mother, I'd like you to meet my darling Y/N~"

Alastor's arm wraps around you in an attempt to calm your nerves and to present you proudly to his mother

When her kind eyes land on you, all sense of anxiety and fear melts away as she pulls you in for a hug

She's stronger than she looks, squeezing you as though you two have known each other for years

You realize that she hugs just like Alastor and melt into her arms as you hug her back

"It's so good to finally meet you..! I've been asking Alastor to bring you over ever since he first mentioned he was seeing someone!"

Now Alastor is blushing and mumbling something about her promising she wouldn't bring that up

You can't help but laugh and pat his cheek softly, it's adorable when he's embarrassed

Together the three of you finish up dinner, his mother sending him out of the kitchen to set the table

Leaving the two of you alone

It starts off smoothly, the two of you making polite conversation before falling into comfortable silence

And then it's uncomfortable

Oh shit you're nervous again

She stands next to you as the two of you work together to finish cooking, a soft smile on her face

"My son really loves you, my dear..."

Her voice is still soft, still warm, but there's a warning tone to it

Alastor did say his mother could be the sweetest woman or the scariest woman you've ever met

"I hope that love isn't misplaced."

Oh. Of course.

She's looking out for her son, like any good mother would do

You're careful with your next words, reaching out and taking the other woman's hand gently

You make sure to look into her eyes, wanting to convey your truth

"Ma'am, you son will have my heart and my soul in life and in death. I love him more than words can convey.."

And that's all it takes, the woman pulling you in for another hug and clutching you in relief

This woman is relieved that her son found someone who genuinely loves him and will continue to love him when she's gone

And if you love her son as she does then she has no choice but to love you as well

Things are easy going between you two after that, Alastor's mother loving you a little more with each thing she learns about you

She watches the two of you interact and gains a better understanding of the relationship

She understands why her son fell for you, you're more than just a pretty face that lured him in

You actually remind her a little bit of herself in her younger days

Mother, please don't say that

The two of you actually get along rather well, ganging up on Alastor several times throughout the night

"I'm only saying! The best way to enjoy tea is-"

"Alastor, honey, Y/N and I just told you that you're wrong."

"Why don't you let the two people who know what they're talking about carry the conversation, hm~?"

"I think it's about time we leave, don't you two agree?"

NO

Not Alastor's mother taking your hand and looking at her son with a shocked expression

"You would take away my darling Y/N? What cruel boy you've turned into!"

Oh she's good

Alastor pretends to be annoyed at the sight of you two clinging to each other and whining about not wanting to be separated

Before that fake annoyance melts away into fondness and he's joining in on the hug

Alastor takes care of cleaning up dinner, leaving the two of you alone again

Which means Alastor's mother gets to show you photos of Alastor when he was younger

And tell you all the embarrassing stories

You two are so busy giggling and cooing at the photos that you don't notice Alastor standing in the doorway, face flushed red with embarrassment

"Time to go, my dear!"

She sends you home with plenty of leftovers and fusses over you like you're one of her own

"Do you need a jacket, dear? A hat? I might have an extra one around here-"

Gives you the biggest hug and kiss on the forehead before you leave, telling you to visit her often

Oh just one more hug before you go

Before Alastor can pull away from his own hug, she pulls him back to whisper to him

"You picked a good one, my darling boy...~"

You three are a family after that, no matter what anyone says, no matter what happens

She loves you just as much as she loves her boy and she'll brag about you just as much as he does

Carries a photo of you two around in her purse so she can show everybody

Literally loves having you around and is worried that other men will try to take you for themselves

You don't have a ring on that finger

Not yet anyways

Alastor's mother just has to convince him that he wants to get married

Which probably won't be hard

This is like the only photo of Alastor's mother I can find and I don't even know if it's canon or not-

She's gorgeous??

This one wasn't originally what I was working on but it was too good to pass up