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aemondapologistfrfr · 5 months ago

Text

The Only Place I Want to Die

aegon x sister!wife!reader

Summary: Aegon turns to you for comfort in the following weeks of his coronation. Pleasure and tears seem to be the only way you both can find solace during these troubling times.

Warnings: 18+ swearing, alicent hitting her child, wine, depression, thoughts of wanting to die, crying, face riding, p in v, fingering, overstimulation

Authors Note: i fear i have too many feelings so this tragically pretty and broken man 🙂, the targtower children have actually been ripping my heart apart!!, u can’t convince me this man doesn’t whimper

Word Count: 3.5k

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

I woke during the hour of the wolf to a cold bed and the fire flickering out. I sigh and push the blankets off of me and go to try and revive the embers. The fire slowly comes back to life with a crackle and I kneel on the stone to hover my hands near the flame. After countless minutes I rise and take in the state of our chambers.

Empty wine glasses litter almost every surface and what’s left is covered by our clothes. I reach for the robe closest to me and wrap it around my body. I settle for mismatched slippers at this hour and pad over to the doors. I slowly crack it open and see our guard ever faithfully standing at attention.

“Where is Aegon?” I ask softly and the guard turns to me.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace. The King didn’t say.” the guards eyes look at me nervously and try to focus his attention anywhere else.

“Then I’ll find him myself.” I push the door the rest of the way open and click it shut behind me.

“My Queen-“ I raise my hand and wave him off as I start down the dark hallway.

I can’t stand when they use our new titles. I don’t feel like the Queen and I know Aegon shares my sentiments. The past fortnight after his coronation has been chaos and our mother offers us no comfort or guidance. They simply placed crowns on our head and continue to move us about as they please.

I walk down the stairs and head to the cellar to see if he’s drowning himself in his cups again. I enter the cold and damp room and there’s no candles or torches lit as I slink between the aisles of bottles. I hear and see no sign of Aegon, but I do spot our favorite wine. I grab the bottle by its neck and start up the stairs once more.

I walk to the main hall and take in the guards standing sentry at the doors. No one looks twice at me as I ghost through the hall with my robe swishing behind me. I stop when I see the throne room doors cracked open. I peak inside and sigh in relief that I’ve finally found him.

I push the doors open to let me in and then seal us inside. As I walk up to him he is standing at the bottom of the stairs looking up at the throne gripping the crown in his hand. As I make it to his side I see the tears streaming down his face. I place the bottle of wine on the ground and stand in front of him. His puffy eyes look down to me as he sniffles.

“Why do you cry, my love?” I whisper wiping his tears away.

“I never wanted this.” his voice breaks along with my heart as the conquerors crown falls to the stone beside us.

“I know,” my voice a whisper as I pull him down into a tight embrace.

His arms wrap around me tightly as he lets out soft sobs into my neck. I rub his back soothingly hoping I can calm his breathing. His tears seep onto my neck as they continue to fall from his eyes. He pulls back and his normally bright violet eyes seem sunken and dull.

“I wish Rhaenyra would come and kill me already.” he hiccups as his sobs start anew.

Tears fall from my own eyes at his words. I knew his hurt was deep, but I didn’t know it went this far. We stand there for what feels like hours in each other’s embrace while taking turns wiping each other’s tears away. Through the windows I can see the dawn on the horizon and slowly pull back.

“Come, I’ve found us our favorite wine.” I dip down to pick up the bottle.

His hand slips into mine leading me out of the throne room, leaving the crown on the stone floor. The main hall of the castle seems to be slowly waking up as we walk out the main doors ignoring the guards calling after us. We make our way to the back of the castle to sit in the grass as we watch the sunrise over the bay with our wine.

“Do you think she hates me?” Aegon murmurs while opening the bottle.

“Who?” I tilt my head.

“Rhaenrya. Mother. All of them. Everyone.” he sighs before taking a long drink of wine.

“Rhaenyra probably hates mother more than we do.” I take the bottle and bring it to my lips.

“Why would mother force this upon us? Father only ever talked about Rhaenyra. He never cared for us. He never wanted me to succeed him.” he buries his head in his hands.

“I don’t know why we were placed on this path.” I rest my head on his shoulder as I pass the bottle back to him.

The sun slowly rises into the sky and our empty bottle is discarded on the grass next to us. We lay back and look at the clouds simply enjoying the silence and company of each other. Our eyes slowly close as we curl into each other and allow sleep to take over as we soak in the morning sun.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

“Get up. Both of you.” I crack my eyes open and see Alicent and Cole standing above us. I pull Aegon to his feet beside me and we try to avoid our mother’s harsh gaze.

“It seems as if we found the wine thief.” Cole says grabbing the empty bottle discarded on the grass.

“Why must you both cause me so much trouble. Leaving your crown on the ground like it’s some toy. Sneaking into the cellars to steal wine. Gods I can’t take it anymore.” she seethes, throwing her hands into the air as she turns to Cole.

“I didn’t ask for any of this.” Aegons words wobbly as his hand holds mine.

“I assumed you both would rise to your new titles. Hoping you would sober up and become respectable. You both never cease to prove me wrong and embarrass me at every turn.” she looks us over with disgust as her words continue to slice into us.

“You should’ve seized the crown for yourself if you wanted it so badly.” the words make it out of my mouth before I can even process them and she slaps me across the face.

“Strike her again and I will have your hand. I may not want the crown but it will allow me to protect her.” Aegon looks to me before looking back to our mother who stands there shocked at his words.

“You wouldn’t dare.” she scoffs shaking her head at us.

“Ser Criston, escort the Queen Dowager back to her chambers. I fear she’s having a fit of hysteria.” Aegon stands taller and his words baffle me.

“Aegon,” Alicent looks to him unamused.

“At once, Your Grace.” Cole nods to Aegon and starts to pull our mother back to the main doors of the castle.

At their absence he turns to me and softly ghosts his fingertips across my red cheek. I look up to him and see the anger in his eyes as he continues to stroke my cheek. I feel the rest of my body heat at his soft touch. He’s not always so soft and delicate but I’ve never really minded.

“Thank you,” I lean into his touch as his eyes slowly slide to mine.

“I won’t allow anyone to hurt you anymore. We must come up with a plan.” he places a kiss on my forehead before leading me back into the Keep.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

The past couple of days have consisted of us trying to conjure up a plan to run away or somehow receive an audience with Rhaenyra. We’ve wrote countless letters but none of them seem good enough. Entertaining the idea of running away was all we did the entirety of the first day, but we don’t want to run anymore. We don’t want to be alone, we just want to be loved or die loving each other.

“Let us just send this one and be done with it.” Aegon sighs pushing his chair back from the table in our chambers.

Sister

I never wanted this and I know father never wanted this. Please, can we meet on the shores and find common ground. I have no wish for the crown, you can have it. Please.

Aegon and Y/n

“I think this one will do what we need it to. She’ll either meet us on the beach or The Stranger will.” I sigh folding the parchment and sealing it with wax.

“As long as we’re together.” he says softly looking up to me.

“As long as we’re together.” I hum nodding my head.

We leave our chambers as we walk to the tower where the ravens are kept. We send off the raven and watch as its wings carry our plea into the horizon. We walk down to the dining hall where we see the table empty and dusty. The Red Keep has been a shell since our father passed and our mother usurped the throne.

“It seems as if we’ll be dining in our chambers again.” I sigh going to turn out of the hall.

“No, have a seat and I’ll call the servants. We can dine here.” Aegon shakes his head and goes to pull out a chair for me.

He pushes my chair in for me before leaving the hall and returns with a herd of servants trailing behind him. They quickly place and light candles around the hall helping bring some of the life back. Aegon slips into the chair next to mine as a servant comes and fills up our cups with wine. A smile spreads across my face as I recognize our favorite summer wine.

“Did you really take another bottle?” I turn to him and see him offering me a genuine smile.

“We deserve our favorite wine with dinner,” he hums licking his lips.

“Indeed,” I raise my glass to him and sigh as the sweet wine trickles down my throat.

The servants fill our plates and continue to bring out different dishes. Once we’re fully sated we retire back to our chambers. The heaviness of our disastrous apartments weighs us down as we seal the doors behind us. He pushes clothes and other miscellaneous items out of our path before he lets out a deep sigh and falls back on the bed.

“Do you think Rhaenyra will listen to us?” he mumbles wiping his eyes.

“We can only hope.” I hum as I crawl on the bed next to him.

“If she doesn’t then this is our last night.” he turns to me with sad eyes but I can see the underlying relief that I know is mirrored in my own.

I press my lips to his softly. It starts off slow and innocent but soon he’s pulling me on top of him. He pulls my dress up around my waist and digs his fingers into my hips. His fingers find my wetness quickly and I’m gasping into his mouth.

“Only place I want to die is between your thighs.” he breaks our kiss breathing heavily.

He pulls me up his body and I know his desire. I slide off of him and lift my skirts to straddle his face. His hands grab my hips and places me on his lips. He places wet kisses along my thighs before licking my slit. I sigh in pleasure as he begins to swirl around my bud. My hips start to move against him and his responding groan sends vibrations straight to my core.

“Aegon,” I breathlessly whine as his hands begin to slide me across his mouth.

His tongue flicks against me relentlessly as my hips start moving on their own. His fingers dig into my thighs roughly as he feasts upon me. My body goes taught as I pulse around his tongue with his name falling from my lips.

“Fuck, my King,” his tittle slips out before I can stop it.

He seals his lips around my sensitive bud and my hips shutter from the pleasure he keeps offering me. I’m moaning loudly as he continues to rock me against his mouth. His tongue slips down to my core as his nose brushes against my bud. Pleasure starts to ripple through me as I toss my head back grinding down on to him.

“Aegon, I-“ my voice breaks into a cry as he continues with his tongue.

He chuckles into my wetness causing shockwaves to travel throughout my body. I’m babbling above him as he coaxes me through a third climax. My hands grab his to try and pry them from my hips. I finally collapse next to him on the bed and try to catch my breath. He starts to pull my dress off of me and once I’m bare his hands grab for my breasts.

I start to lift his shirt off and he finishes removing it quickly following with his trousers. His hard length bounces against his stomach before he dips down to take one of my nipples into his mouth. I whimper as he bites down, pulling it between his teeth while he looks up to me through his thick lashes. He makes his way to my other peak to tease it with his teeth.

My fingers thread through his hair before they go to the expanse of his back. I bring one of my hands between us to slowly start pumping him. He grunts as he continues to pull and tease my nipples. I swipe against his leaking tip and he whines against my chest. He removes himself from my breasts and watches my hand stroke him.

“Fuck,” he pants as I start to pump him faster.

He starts to jerk his hips into my hand as his head falls to my shoulder. He whimpers as he gets lost in his pleasure while sucking on my neck. His hand grabs mine and stops my movements. He trails his tip through my wetness causing a shiver to trail through me.

He pushes into me and watches as my face relaxes in pleasure at his stretch. Once he’s fully bottomed out he grinds his hips into me slowly. I moan as my fingers dig into his shoulders as he keeps up his slow, deep movements as his hair falls into my face. I clench around him and his forehead falls to mine as his breaths come out heavier.

He starts to rock his hips and I whine as he finally begins to move faster. His breath starts to come out in pants again as his hips start to snap into mine. I cling on to him as his pace quickens while moans pour from my mouth. He wraps one of my legs around his waist and I sob at the new angle.

“Yes, Aegon,” I pant as I throw my head back into the pillow.

He continues to rut into me and I bring my other leg to wrap around him and his hips falter at the deeper angle. My hips meet his as we chase our pleasure together. Our breath mingles while we whimper out each other’s names.

“Love you so fucking much,” his words slurred from pleasure as he slams his hips into mine.

Pleasure courses through me at his words as my walls contract around him. I feel him start to fill me as he continues to rock into me. His hips still and he leans down to capture my lips in a bruising kiss. I moan into his mouth as he grinds his hips into mine once more before slowly pulling out.

“Just gimme a couple minutes,” he pants laying next to me.

His hands trail all over my body as I try to catch my breath. His hands travel down to my soaked core as he slips his fingers in and begins to pump his seed back into me. My legs close around his hand as he curls his fingers wringing more pleasure from my body. I cry out his name as I flutter around his fingers and he pulls them out and brings them to his mouth.

He groans and rolls on top of me to kiss me. I moan into his mouth at the taste of myself on him. He licks my lips and travels down my neck and stops at my breasts again. He attaches to one of my hardened nipples and roughly grabs my other breast. I arch my chest up into his mouth as his roughness causes more wetness to pool between my thighs.

“Aegon, I need you,” I mewl trying to buck my hips into him but I end up just sliding myself on his thigh.

He grunts from my chest and bends his knee so I can grind against his thigh. I have one hand buried in his silver locks while the other grips his shoulder as he peppers my chest with attention. My hips are feverishly grinding against his thigh looking for any friction they can find. I pull his hair to get his attention that I want him to move lower and he releases the nipple he’s been holding hostage.

“Always so fucking needy.” he chuckles but kisses down my torso nonetheless.

The second his tongue laps against my bud my hand is flying to his hair pulling him closer to me. I’m grinding against his face as sobs rack through me. He slams two fingers into me pulling pleasure from me. He pushes a third finger in and my eyes are rolling to the back of my head and moans fall from my mouth. My orgasm slams through me stealing my breath as I try to pull his face away from me. I get him about an inch away before his hand grabs my wrist.

“Oh no no, my sweet girl this is what you wanted.” he chuckles lowly as his grip on my wrist tightens before he dips back down to continue licking at me.

My whole body is shaking as his tongue zeros in on my clit. My thighs squeeze around his head as my chest heaves. My back arches off the bed as my fingers continue to pull at his hair.

“Aegon, fuck Aegon, please,” I whine bucking my hips as pleasure bursts through me all over his face. He pulls away from my core with a wet face and a wide smile.

“Love when you do that,” he licks his lips before he shoves his tongue into my mouth.

I moan into our kiss as I feel his length press against me. He humps against me and my legs quake in anticipation. He slips into my core and my eyes shut. His hands grab mine to hold them above my head as he pounds into me.

“Gunna come again for me? Taking me so fucking good,” his pelvis grinds into my clit and I sob as pleasure ripples through me and I feel as if it’s never ending.

He rolls his hips as pleasure begins to wash through him. I come clenching around him once more as my vision blurs. When my eyes open again he’s peppering kisses all around my face. As he moves I can still feel him buried deep in me and I whine squirming.

“I always think you’re the most perfect when you’re thoroughly fucked, flushed cheeks, still squeezing my cock.” he groans grinding into me.

“Aegon,” tears prick at the edges of my eyes as he still pushes into me.

He slowly pumps in and out chuckling at my whimpers. He pulls out which leaves me feeling empty. He slides down and lays between my thighs resting his head on my stomach. I run my fingers through his hair as we both come down from our highs. I shut my eyes as I keep my fingers tangled in his hair as his arms wrap around me tightly.

“Do you love me?” he mumbles against my skin.

“You know I do, very much.” I hum still petting his hair. He snuggles into me as we drift off not caring what tomorrow holds as long as we’re together.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

masterlist 🔌

this was super self indulgent 🫣😅

taglist ✍️

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @anaviieiraaa @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @zanygot7straykidsbonk

#aegon the second #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii smut #aegon smut #king aegon #hotd smut #hotd fanfic #x reader #hotd x reader #x reader imagine #x reader smut #x reader fic #smut #got smut

517 notes · View notes

lecsainz · 1 year ago

Note

Hi can you please do one about the Travis and Taylor rumours going around. Maybe like your Taylor’s sister dating Travis secretly for awhile now and your pregnant. And like the Taylor concert he went to he was like there with you and the football that Taylor went to she was like there with you. And it all comes out that he’s with you and not Taylor and they find out your pregnant and all and are so shocked and didn’t see it coming. Like if that makes sense 🙂

EVERYONE WAS WRONG

parings: travis kelce + swift!reader

author 🗒️’s: I missed writing smau 😭

summary: where you are taylor swift sister and there’s something with travis but everyone thinks he and taylor are dating.

✩. . . masterlist !

liked by selenagomez, icespice and 1.989.073 others

ynswift can I say I'm cheating on the eagles?

tag: @/taylorswift @/chiefs

see all 65.638 comments

taylorswift still can't believe you made me come to this game

⤷ ynswift didn't force you at all!

user6 love seeing the swift sisters together

killatrav It was nice meeting you, y/n

⤷ ynswift likewise, kelce

⤷ killatrav hope to see you girls at the next game

⤷ ynswift I need to check my schedule

user1 y/n being the cupid of tayvis

user Is it confirmed that taylor and travis are together???

⤷ user4 I think so

user2 she it's me in life: the friend who always couples people up

user5 andrea, please adopt me to be their sister!

⤷ ynswift mom said she'd adopt!

⤷ user5 OH MY GOD

philadelphiaeagles no comments

⤷ ynswift I swear we still loyal to your team

user7 I want a tayvis photo, make it happen y/n!

loading more comments . . .

Y/N and Travis had met during a The Eras concert, what seemed like a normal show turned into something entirely different. Y/N didn't expect it until she literally ran into this 6'5'' tall man. He was so much taller than her that she couldn't help but feel incredibly drawn to the unknown man, so much so that she forgot how to speak when he asked if she was okay.

Travis found the blonde girl utterly charming and just had to ask for her number. However, instead of getting her number, he received a polite but firm "no." That piqued the curiosity of the Kansas City Chiefs' tight end. With determination, he approached one of the security guards to inquire about the mysterious blonde girl. After a bit of investigating, he finally discovered that she was Y/N Swift, the younger sister of the famous Taylor Swift.

Travis couldn't help but be intrigued by this revelation. He felt compelled to get to know Y/N better, despite the initial rejection. It took him over a week to gather the courage to send her a direct message. When he did, he invited her to an Eagles game, which he later learned was the Swift family's favorite team, and having her older brother on the team made it easier to secure a private suite for their date.

As the two of them spent more time together, a genuine connection began to form. Y/N was captivated by Travis's charisma and his down-to-earth personality, something she hadn't experienced with anyone in a long time. Travis, on the other hand, was smitten with Y/N's intelligence, warmth, and her unique ability to make him forget about the pressures of the football field.

One date led to another, and before they knew it, they were deeply involved in a relationship that neither had anticipated. Their connection was electric, and they couldn't get enough of each other's company.

As the days turned into weeks and then into months, Y/N and Travis's bond grew stronger. They had shared dreams, inside jokes, and an unspoken understanding that went beyond the public eye. But their connection was shrouded in secrecy, as Y/N didn't want to overshadow her sister's fame and success.

Despite their efforts to keep things private, the media eventually caught wind of their relationship. Reports began to circulate, with speculations of a romance between Travis and Taylor Swift, not Y/N. The rumors hurt Y/N, as it seemed like her own life would always be overshadowed by her sister's immense fame.

Little did she know that amidst the media frenzy and the complications of their secret relationship, she would find herself facing an unexpected twist of fate – she was pregnant with Travis's child.

As days turned into weeks, Y/N couldn't keep the secret any longer. She knew she needed to tell Travis about the life-changing news, despite the fear and uncertainty that loomed over her. She had never been in a situation like this before.

One evening, she decided it was time to confide in Travis. With her heart pounding, she went to his house, her mind filled with thoughts of how he might react. Would he be overwhelmed? Would he want to be a part of this?

Travis opened the door and smiled warmly at her, inviting her in. Y/N took a deep breath and began, "Travis, there's something I need to talk to you about, something important."

Travis's expression shifted from curiosity to concern. "What's going on, Y/N? You look serious."

Y/N took a deep breath and began, "Travis, there's something I need to tell you. It's not easy, and we didn't plan for this, but..." She paused, her eyes glistening with emotion, "I'm pregnant."

For a few seconds, there was silence. Travis processed the information, and his eyes filled with a mix of emotions, but he didn't look away from Y/N. Then, a gentle smile crossed his face. "Y/N, are you serious? We're going to be parents?"

Y/N nodded with a soft smile. "Yes, Travis. I'm pregnant."

Travis leaned in closer, his face filled with emotion. "That's incredible! I can't believe it. I'm going to be a dad."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she saw his genuine excitement. "I'm so glad you're happy, Travis. I was worried about how you'd react."

Travis took her hands in his and looked deeply into her eyes. "Y/N, I couldn't be happier. This is a beautiful surprise, and I'm looking forward to this journey with you. We'll figure everything out together."

Y/N felt a wave of relief wash over her. She couldn't believe how supportive Travis was being. "Travis, you have no idea how much this means to me. I was so afraid to tell you."

Travis took her hand and said, "Y/N, I care about you more than I can express. In fact, there's something I've been wanting to ask you for a while now." He got down on one knee, pulling a small box from his pocket. "Will you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?"

Y/N's eyes welled up with tears of joy as she nodded and replied, "Yes, Travis, a thousand times, yes."

liked by taylorswift, annehathaway and 23.366.133 others ynswift & killatrav you said I do and I did too

comments have been limited

taylorswift so happy for you both 🤍 and travis you better take good care of my little sister!

austinkingsleyswift congrats sis!

jason.kelce finally, you guys announced it! I couldn't stand not being able to talk about it anymore. congratulations lovebirds!

chiefs welcome to chiefs family y/n!

donnakelce I'm so happy to have you in the family now y/n! 💕

1K notes · View notes

theonottsbxtch · 3 months ago

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HEAR ME OUT 🙂 charles x pianist!reader where he’s like writing/composing a new ep and his producer is like “omg you should totally do a duet with (reader) 🥰” and uh yeah just anything related to that

i can already envision a scene where charles spends most of his time in the dark alone in the studio with his piano but reader is ofc there…

go for any trope you want 🙈

MY MUSE | CL16

an: im sorry this is so long istart writing and then i can't stop. btw i want everyone to know that i was listening to that's not me by skepta and jme while writing this. completely different vibes. SEND MORE REQUESTS IM BORED HOUSESITTING FOR THREE WEEKS

wc: 7.8k

dedicated to @iamred-iamyellow & @iimplicitt

The studio was thick with the scent of aged leather and dust, the faint glow of a single, dimmed lamp casting long shadows across the hardwood floors. Charles sat hunched over the grand piano, its black lacquer surface reflecting the soft light in fractured shards. His fingers hovered above the ivory keys, trembling with a kind of frustrated anticipation, but no sound came. The room seemed to echo with a deafening silence, broken only by the faint ticking of the clock on the far wall—an incessant reminder of time slipping away.

He had been here for days, isolated from the outside world during the off season. The once-comforting walls, lined with shelves of dog-eared books and musical scores, now felt like the confines of a cage. His last piece had been a masterpiece—a soaring composition that had flowed from him like water, effortless and pure. It was the kind of music that haunted you long after it ended, the kind that etched itself into the soul of anyone who heard it. But now, the notes eluded him.

Charles ran his fingers through his dark, curly hair and let out a low sigh. There was a pressure building in his chest, like a wound slowly tightening, pulling him apart. For the past week, he had been locked in this room, trying to capture the essence of something even greater than the last, but all he had managed to conjure was noise—fragments of half-formed melodies that crumbled before they could take shape.

He stood abruptly, the sudden movement causing the papers on top of his piano to rustle, brittle with neglect. The room was stifling; the air was thick with the remnants of burnt-out candles and sleepless nights. He paced to the window, pulling the curtains aside to reveal the darkened Maranello streets below, slick with the remnants of a recent rain. The city outside moved on, indifferent to his struggle, its distant hum a reminder that time had no patience for his creative paralysis.

He pressed his forehead against the cold glass, his breath fogging it up in shallow bursts. What was missing? What had he lost in the months since his last piece? It felt like chasing shadows, reaching for something just out of grasp. Every melody he tried to shape slipped through his fingers like grains of sand, and the harder he tried to hold onto it, the faster it dissolved.

The clock struck three in the morning, the chime echoing through the stillness of the room. Another night wasted. Another night consumed by the weight of his own expectations. He turned back to the piano, his eyes heavy with fatigue but burning with a quiet, desperate need. He couldn’t leave. Not yet. Not without something to show for the hours he’d lost.

With a sigh that felt like surrender, Charles sat back down at the piano, his fingers hovering over the keys once more. He could feel the cold beneath his skin, the way the silence seemed to press in around him. His hands shook, not with nervousness, but with exhaustion.

And then, in the quiet, a single note broke the silence.

It wasn’t beautiful. It wasn’t the haunting, ethereal sound he had been searching for. But it was something.

His gaze fell to the pile of sheet music he had scribbled on throughout the night. Inked lines of failed ideas, crossed out again and again. With a final resigned sigh, he stood up, the bench scraping the floor, the sound too loud in the empty space. He began to gather his things, shoving crumpled papers into his bag alongside notebooks, headphones, and his laptop. The familiar weight of them didn’t bring comfort; instead, they felt like reminders of the failure he was starting to carry with him. This was meant to be a hobby but it was haunting his every move.

As he turned to leave, keys jangling in his hand, a soft sound reached his ears—a distant, faint melody. He paused, his hand hovering over the light switch, ears straining to catch it. It was coming from down the hallway, barely perceptible at first, but unmistakable—a piano, its notes drifting through the quiet night like a whisper.

Charles hesitated for a moment, then slipped into the hallway, drawn toward the sound. He moved slowly, the dark corridor seeming endless, the music growing clearer with every step. It was beautiful—achingly so. Each note was delicate yet certain, as though whoever was playing knew exactly what they wanted to say. The melody swirled and climbed, creating something ethereal, something that made his chest tighten in a way he hadn’t felt in weeks.

He stopped outside one of the smaller practice rooms, the door slightly ajar, a soft glow of light spilling from within. The music filled the narrow hallway, surrounding him, pulling him in. He stood there for a long moment, his heart beating a little faster, a strange mix of awe and envy twisting inside him. This was what he had been trying to create—the same kind of raw emotion, the beauty that lingered long after the sound faded.

But it wasn’t his.

Charles leaned against the wall, just out of sight, listening as the music flowed through the cracks in the door. The player inside didn’t falter, didn’t stop to wrestle with the notes. It was effortless, pure. He didn’t dare move, didn’t dare interrupt, afraid the spell would be broken if the other person realised they had an audience.

The melody soared, and for a brief moment, Charles closed his eyes, letting himself be swept up in it. It reminded him of why he had started this in the first place—of the nights when music had been his refuge, when it had felt like an escape, not a burden. He could feel the heaviness in his chest easing, just slightly, as the music wound its way through the silence.

But as beautiful as it was, it also stung. Whoever was playing had found what he had been searching for all this time—something he had lost.

The music came to a soft, gentle end, the final notes lingering in the air like a breath held too long. Charles stood there for a moment longer, still leaning against the doorframe, waiting for something—he didn’t know what.

When the quiet finally settled again, he stepped away from the door, not daring to break the fragile stillness with the creak of the floorboards. He glanced back one last time, his fingers curling tight around the strap of his bag. For a moment, he considered knocking, stepping inside to see the person who had played with such grace. But something held him back.

Instead, he turned and walked down the hallway, the echo of that haunting melody still playing in his head long after the door to the studio clicked shut behind him.

His following morning came in fragments—a bleary haze of sunlight filtering through half-closed blinds, the distant hum of traffic muffled by the walls of his apartment. Charles stirred, his body sluggish and heavy with the weight of too little sleep. He lay there for a long moment, eyes closed, trying to hold onto the remnants of the dream he couldn’t quite remember. But it wasn’t a dream that lingered in his mind.

It was the melody.

That same haunting, angelic piano from last night, curling through his thoughts like a whisper. He could still hear it—those delicate notes weaving together, the way the melody had seemed so effortless, so perfect. It had been circling his mind from the moment he left the studio. Now, it played softly in the background of his thoughts, no matter how hard he tried to push it away.

Charles groaned, rolling out of bed and dragging himself into the shower. The hot water did little to shake the fatigue that clung to him, nor did it drown out the persistent tune echoing in his head. His mind kept returning to the small, dimly lit room where the mystery pianist had been, to the way her fingers had danced across the keys as though they had always belonged there.

He towel-dried his hair, staring at his reflection in the foggy mirror. Dark circles under his eyes, a face hollowed by days of restless nights and creative frustration. He had some sort of media training today—something important. A meeting he couldn’t afford to drift through half-awake. But even as he dressed, pulling on his usual team shirt and straightening the collar, his thoughts were elsewhere.

The city outside was awake, the streets buzzing with life as he made his way through the crisp morning air to the Ferrari HQ. His coffee sat untouched in his hand, the steam rising in lazy spirals, but he barely noticed. The melody from last night played on an endless loop in his head, the memory of it clinging to him like a ghost he couldn’t shake.

The office was a blur of familiar faces, bright smiles, and too much energy for this early in the day. Charles moved through it all, barely fully acknowledging Carlos, the world around him dull and muffled. The media manager was already waiting when he arrived, tapping impatiently on the table as Charles sat down for their first meeting.

But even as they discussed plans, upcoming shoots, and expectations for both his and Carlos’ media presence, Charles wasn’t fully there. He nodded in the right places, offered half-hearted responses, but his mind kept wandering back to that melody. The notes haunted him, pulling his focus away from everything else, as though they held the answer to something he was desperate to grasp.

“Charles, are you listening?” Carlos’ voice snapped him back to the present.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, though his eyes betrayed him. He scribbled something on the notepad in front of him, though the lines didn’t form words—just scattered shapes, like the music notes he couldn’t get out of his head.

The meetings dragged on. Through every discussion, every pitch and presentation, Charles felt the same distraction pulling him away. He couldn’t let it go. The melody. It had stirred something in him—a frustration, yes, but also a strange kind of inspiration. There was something there, something unfinished, and it gnawed at him.

By the time the last meeting ended, Charles felt hollowed out. He hadn’t contributed anything meaningful to the discussions, not really. His mind had been elsewhere the entire day, replaying those fleeting notes over and over again. It was maddening.

He needed to know. Needed to find out who had played it, and why that music—the music he hadn’t written—felt so much like it belonged to him.

Without thinking, Charles pulled out his phone and dialled his producer’s number, pacing back and forth in the hallway outside the conference room as it rang. It was late afternoon now, the sky outside tinged with fading light. He knew he should be focusing on his own work, or on getting back to the studio, but the compulsion to solve this mystery was stronger than his exhaustion.

The line clicked, and his producer’s voice crackled on the other end. “Charles, hey. What’s up?”

Charles leaned against the window, his forehead pressed to the cool glass. “I need to ask you something,” he said, his voice low, edged with impatience. “Last night, around 3 a.m., there was someone in one of the smaller studios, playing piano. Do you know who it was?”

There was a pause on the other end, the faint sound of papers shuffling. “3 a.m.? You sure?”

“I’m sure,” Charles replied, closing his eyes. The melody drifted back into his mind, as clear as if he were still sitting outside the door, listening. “It was… incredible. I couldn’t stop listening. I need to know who it was.”

Another pause, then a small chuckle from his producer. “Ah, that must’ve been the student. Yeah, she’s been coming in late at night to practise. Studies music at the university downtown. Doesn’t perform much, though—mostly keeps to herself.”

Charles’s heart skipped a beat. The name felt unfamiliar, but it already held a weight to it, like it was connected to something he hadn’t yet fully understood.

“She doesn’t perform?” he asked, brow furrowing. It seemed impossible—someone with that much talent, hiding in the shadows.

“Nah,” his producer continued, “she’s a bit under the radar. Not really into publishing or performing her work, but, man, she’s got something special. I didn’t realise you’d heard her.”

Charles was silent for a moment, processing the information. The melody. He could see it now—something just out of reach, like the missing piece of a puzzle he hadn’t realised he was trying to solve.

“You know,” his producer said, his tone shifting slightly, “you’ve been stuck for a while, Charles. Maybe you should try working with her. See what happens. It might help you find what you’re looking for.”

Charles swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. The thought of it—composing with someone else, with her—made something stir inside him. Could it be the answer to breaking through this creative silence he’d been drowning in?

“I’ll think about it,” he muttered, though the decision was already forming in his mind.

As he hung up the phone, the melody returned, softer this time, but still persistent. And now, it wasn’t just haunting him—it was pulling him forward.

_________________

The studio felt different tonight, as though it had shifted in his absence. The air was cooler, the lights dimmer, casting long, quiet shadows over the floorboards. Charles stood in the hallway again, just as he had the night before, but this time his heart beat with something more than exhaustion or frustration. There was an anticipation simmering in his chest, a tension just beneath the surface.

He hadn’t come to compose tonight. Not really. He had come for the music. Her music.

The name felt strange on his lips, unfamiliar, yet full of significance. He didn’t know her, had never spoken to her, but her music had already gotten under his skin. It haunted him still, drifting through his mind in fragments even after the long day of meetings, pulling him back here.

He moved quietly down the hallway, the same path he had taken last night, his shoes barely making a sound against the worn floor. As he neared the smaller practice room, the faint sound of the piano floated toward him, delicate and clear, weaving through the quiet.

There it was again—the same effortless, angelic melody that had captivated him before. But now, listening to it a second time, Charles felt something deeper stirring. The way she played was different tonight, more intimate somehow, as if the music had softened, becoming something even more personal. He stopped outside the door, just as he had before, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes.

For a long moment, he simply listened. The notes seemed to dance in the air, spinning and intertwining, building toward something both beautiful and fragile. It was mesmerising.

But then, the music stopped. Abruptly.

Charles’s eyes snapped open, his pulse quickening in the sudden silence. Before he could move, a voice broke through the quiet, soft but teasing.

“Mama always said it’s not nice to lurk.”

His breath caught in his throat. For a second, he didn’t move, caught off guard. The door was still ajar, the light spilling into the hallway, and from inside, he could make out the silhouette of someone sitting at the piano, her back turned to him. She hadn’t looked up, but she knew. She had known he was there the whole time.

Heat crept up his neck, but before he could stammer out an apology, she spoke again.

“You coming in, or are you planning to stay out there all night?”

Her tone was light, amused even, but it was an invitation all the same. Charles hesitated for a heartbeat longer, his hand tightening around the strap of his bag. Then, without thinking, he stepped forward, pushing the door open a little wider.

The room was small and softly lit, just as he remembered, the grand piano dominating the space. She sat at it, her posture relaxed, fingers still resting lightly on the keys. She turned her head slightly as he entered, giving him the faintest glimpse of a smile.

“Sorry,” he said quietly, feeling a bit ridiculous for standing outside like that. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You didn’t.” She shifted on the bench, making space beside her. “Come on, sit.”

Charles’s throat tightened, but he nodded and moved toward the piano, his steps feeling oddly tentative. He hesitated for a second when he reached her, unsure if he should really be sitting so close. The bench was narrow, and he could already feel the warmth of her presence.

She looked up at him with raised eyebrows. “I don’t bite.”

With a small chuckle, he slid onto the stool beside her, the space between them barely a few inches. It was strange, this closeness—to sit here with someone he didn’t know, yet felt connected to through the music that had haunted him for days. Their shoulders brushed lightly as he settled in, and for a moment, the silence between them felt heavy, loaded with expectation.

She glanced at him, her eyes glinting with something unreadable. Then, without a word, she placed her hands back on the piano, her fingers moving over the keys with an effortless grace. The melody returned, soft and slow, and Charles felt his breath catch in his chest again. It was different this time—gentler, more deliberate, as though she was playing just for him.

The room seemed to shrink around them, the air thick with the quiet intimacy of the music. He watched her hands move, the way her fingers danced across the keys with the kind of fluidity that only came from years of dedication. The melody wound its way through the air, filling the small space between them, and Charles found himself leaning in, just slightly, drawn to the sound and to her.

“You play like it’s the easiest thing in the world,” he murmured, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

She smiled, a soft, almost secretive smile. “It’s never easy,” she said, her voice low, her eyes still on the piano. “It just looks that way.”

She played a few more notes, then paused, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “What about you? You’ve been in the studio night after night. What’s haunting you?”

Charles let out a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding. “I’ve been stuck,” he admitted, his voice quieter than he intended. “It feels like everything I try to create falls apart. Nothing compares to what I’ve done before.”

She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she played another soft chord, the sound hanging in the air between them.

“Music’s strange like that,” she said after a moment, her tone thoughtful. “It comes and goes. Sometimes it’s easy, other times… it slips through your fingers.”

Charles nodded, feeling the weight of her words. He had been trying so hard to force the music out, to create something that could match his last piece, but all it had done was elude him.

The girl beside him shifted slightly, her shoulder brushing his. “Here,” she said, moving her hands off the keys. “Play something.”

“What?”

“Anything,” she replied, her eyes meeting his for the first time fully. There was a challenge in them, but also an understanding. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Charles swallowed, feeling a sudden surge of nerves. But her gaze was steady, encouraging, and without thinking too much about it, he let his hands find their way to the keys. The notes that came out weren’t perfect—they were hesitant, half-formed. But they were honest. He played softly, the melody faltering at times, but it was real.

She listened, her head slightly tilted as she watched his fingers move. Then, without warning, she joined him, her hands moving gracefully beside his, adding harmonies to the melody he had started. The sound shifted, growing fuller, more complete. The music filled the room, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Charles didn’t feel the weight of his failure pressing down on him.

Together, they played, their hands moving across the keys in tandem, creating something new. Something neither of them could have done alone.

When the last note finally faded into the quiet, Charles sat back, his heart pounding. She turned to him, her eyes soft and knowing.

“See?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s easier when you’re not alone.”

For a moment, they sat in the quiet, the echo of their shared melody lingering in the air like the last breath of a long-forgotten song. Charles stared at the keys, feeling the warmth of the music still buzzing in his fingertips. He hadn’t felt like this in weeks—maybe longer. There was something about the way she played, the way her music had melded so effortlessly with his, that made the creative block he’d been wrestling with seem almost insignificant.

He turned to look at her, realising for the first time how close they were, their shoulders still brushing lightly. Her eyes were fixed on the piano, her fingers resting gently on the keys, as though she was waiting for the next melody to arrive. Her presence, though quiet and composed, carried an intensity that matched the music she played—an unspoken understanding of the way music could consume you, take you apart, and put you back together.

“That was…” Charles began, but the words caught in his throat.

“Different?” she offered, a slight smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Yeah.” He let out another breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. “It felt… easier. Like it wasn’t something I had to force.”

She tilted her head slightly, her gaze thoughtful. “Music isn’t something you’re supposed to wrestle with. It’s like water—it flows when you stop trying to hold onto it so tightly.” She shifted her hands off the keys and folded them in her lap, her eyes now fully on him. “You’ve been pushing too hard. I could hear it.”

Her words were soft, but they carried something that made Charles pause. He had been pushing—straining against the silence, desperate to capture a piece of the magic he’d once had. Every night in the studio had been a battle, and he hadn’t realised until now that the real fight was with himself.

“You’re right,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been trying so hard to top what I did last time that I forgot why I was doing it in the first place.”

She leaned back slightly, still watching him, her expression unreadable. “What was your last piece?” she asked, her voice curious but not probing.

Charles hesitated. The memory of his last composition—an orchestral piece that had been his most successful work to date—felt distant now, like it belonged to someone else. It had been raw, emotional, inspired by something deeply personal, but the success that followed had overshadowed the joy he’d felt when he created it. Ever since then, he’d been chasing that same feeling, trying to recreate the magic, only to fall short.

“It was…” He trailed off, searching for the right words. “Something personal. It came easily back then. But now it feels like I’m trying to catch lightning in a bottle, and I’m just… stuck.”

She nodded, her fingers idly tracing patterns on the piano’s surface. “I get that. Sometimes the more you want something, the harder it is to find. That’s why I don’t perform much.” She smiled faintly, almost to herself. “There’s less pressure when no one’s watching.”

Charles studied her for a moment, sensing the layers beneath her calm demeanour. She spoke with such ease about the creative process, but there was an edge of vulnerability there too, a reluctance to expose too much of herself to the world.

“Why don’t you perform?” he asked, curious now. “I mean, with the way you play, you could easily—”

“Because I don’t need to,” she interrupted, her tone gentle but firm. “The music is for me. It’s not about the audience. It’s about…” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “It’s about connecting with something deeper, something that doesn’t care about applause or recognition.”

Her words hung in the air between them, and Charles found himself nodding slowly, understanding exactly what she meant. In a way, she had found a kind of freedom he had lost along the way.

“That’s why you play at night,” he said, more a statement than a question. “When no one’s around. It’s like…” He trailed off, trying to find the right analogy, “…the world doesn’t exist.”

She smiled at that, a real one this time, her eyes brightening just a little. “Exactly. It’s easier to lose yourself when there’s no one expecting anything from you.”

Charles sat back, processing her words. For so long, he had been weighed down by expectations—his own, his producer’s, the fans—and it had drained him. Maybe that was the problem. He had been writing for others, forgetting that the music had always been something he did for himself first. Something he loved.

She nudged him lightly with her shoulder, breaking his thoughts. “You know,” she said, a playful lilt in her voice, “you could try playing like no one’s watching. Even if they are.”

He turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she said, leaning in just a bit, “you’re too worried about what people think of your music. But here”—she motioned to the piano in front of them—“there’s no audience. Just us. So why not stop thinking so much and just… play?”

Charles blinked, the simplicity of her suggestion hitting him harder than it should have. She made it sound so easy, but maybe that was the point. Maybe it was supposed to be easy.

Before he could respond, she slid her fingers back onto the keys, playing a few soft chords that hummed through the air like the beginning of something new. Then she glanced sideways at him, a small, teasing smile tugging at her lips. “Come on. Share the bench again. Let’s make something together.”

A spark of excitement flared in his chest. Without another word, Charles moved closer, their knees brushing as they both settled into position, fingers poised over the keys. This time, he wasn’t overthinking it. He wasn’t wrestling with the music. He was just… there.

She started first, her melody soft and fluid, and Charles followed, instinctively matching her rhythm, letting their sounds merge and flow together. The music wasn’t perfect—it stuttered at times, shifted unexpectedly—but it was alive. It had a pulse. It breathed with them.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Charles wasn’t haunted by the silence. He wasn’t weighed down by the pressure of creating something great. He was just… playing. Creating. Feeling the music as it moved through him, through them both.

As their hands danced over the keys, weaving together something raw and beautiful, he realised something that felt both terrifying and thrilling: maybe this was what he had been missing. Not perfection. Not even recognition. Just the simple, undeniable joy of creating with someone who understood. Someone who could make the music feel real again.

When the last note faded into the quiet, Charles turned to her, his heart still racing.

“I think,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “I need to stop chasing what I’ve already done and start finding something new.”

She nodded, her eyes bright and knowing. “And maybe,” she said, her voice equally quiet, “we can find it together.”

The last note lingered in the air between them, and Charles felt something warm and alive settle in his chest. The music they had made together had been unlike anything he’d played in so long—imperfect, yes, but honest. Real. The creative block that had suffocated him for weeks was finally gone, or at least, it felt that way in this fleeting moment of clarity.

She glanced at him, her smile soft but distant. She seemed different now, as though the music had taken something from her as well. Before Charles could say anything, she pushed herself up from the piano bench, her fingers lingering on the edge of the keys for just a second longer than necessary.

"I've got to go."

Her words were quiet, almost an afterthought, and they hit him with an unexpected force. She didn’t give him time to respond, to ask anything, to even say goodbye. She simply gathered her bag and moved toward the door, her steps quick and purposeful.

“Wait—” Charles started, rising halfway from the bench, but it was too late.

She turned to him for a brief moment, a smile that was part mystery, part something he couldn’t quite read crossing her lips. “Don’t stop playing, tesoro (treasure)” she said softly. “You’re closer than you think.”

And then, before he could find his voice, she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her with an eerie finality.

Charles stood frozen for a few long moments, staring at the door. His mind raced. He didn’t have her number. He didn’t know where she lived, where she studied, or how to reach her. She had slipped away like a melody in the night, as effortlessly as she’d come into his life.

With a sigh, he sank back onto the piano bench, running his hands through his hair. The room felt strangely empty without her, the space they had shared now echoing with the silence she left behind. But something inside him had shifted. The music they’d created still hummed in his veins, and the weight of doubt that had plagued him for so long felt lighter. Almost like it was dissolving, piece by piece.

He placed his hands on the keys, the cool touch of ivory grounding him, and began to play.

At first, the melody was slow, almost tentative. It mirrored the notes they’d played together, but now it began to morph into something new, something entirely his own. As his fingers moved, the music unfolded naturally, effortlessly. It was as though every piece of frustration, every sleepless night, every failed attempt to capture the right sound was now fueling something greater. Something real.

The notes swelled and cascaded, filling the room with a rich, haunting melody that seemed to flow directly from his soul. It was raw, brimming with emotion—a reflection of everything he had felt, everything he had fought against. But now, there was no more fighting. The music came freely, weaving together in ways that felt effortless and inevitable.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Charles wasn’t thinking. He wasn’t chasing perfection or wrestling with expectations. He was simply… playing. The music poured out of him like a long-held breath, each note sharper, more vivid than the last. The emotions he had buried—frustration, longing, even joy—flooded into the sound, and it consumed him.

His hands moved faster now, the melody becoming more urgent, more intense. He didn’t know where it was going, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t about the destination. It was about this—this pure, unfiltered moment of creation.

And then, without warning, a tear slipped down his cheek.

Charles barely noticed it at first, too wrapped up in the music, but soon another tear followed. And another. He wasn’t sobbing—there was no sadness in it. Instead, it was an overwhelming sense of release, of joy, of finally breaking through. The music swelled, the room vibrating with sound, and Charles felt it wash over him. A catharsis he hadn’t known he needed.

When he hit the final chord, it echoed through the room, ringing out long after his fingers had stilled. The silence that followed was profound, heavy with the weight of everything he had just poured into the keys.

Charles sat there, hands trembling slightly, staring at the piano in disbelief. A shaky laugh escaped his throat, followed by a deep, breathless exhale. He had done it. He had finally played something worth keeping.

No—it was more than that. He had played one of the best pieces of his life.

For a long while, he just sat there, his hands resting in his lap, feeling the weight of what he had just created. Tears still clung to his lashes, but his chest felt light—lighter than it had in months. Maybe years.

He wasn’t just crying because of the music. He was crying because, for the first time in a long time, he was truly happy.

Charles leaned forward, resting his forehead against the cool wood of the piano, letting the last remnants of tension drain from him. His breath was steady now, calm. The room was bathed in a kind of quiet peace he hadn’t known in so long. He had no idea where the girl had gone, or if he’d ever see her again. But somehow, it didn’t matter.

The music was enough.

What he didn’t know—what he couldn’t have known—was that she hadn’t really left. Not entirely.

Outside the door, hidden in the shadows of the hallway, she stood, her back pressed against the wall. She had stopped as soon as she’d heard the first notes drift through the air, her hand hovering over the door handle but never turning it.

She had listened. Every note, every chord, every emotion Charles had poured into the piano, she had felt it too. Her heart had raced with his, her breath had caught in her throat when she’d heard the moment he broke through the wall he had been fighting against.

She smiled softly to herself, her hand finally dropping to her side as the last note of Charles’s masterpiece echoed through the studio. She had heard something in his playing tonight that she hadn’t expected. Something raw and powerful.

She turned to leave, her steps soft on the floor, leaving the sound of his triumph behind. Maybe she would come back one day, maybe not. But she knew this much—he didn’t need her anymore.

He had found his music again. And that, in itself, was enough.

As she disappeared into the night, Charles remained at the piano, still catching his breath, unaware of the quiet presence that had stayed with him until the very end.

The following days felt surreal, like a dream Charles was reluctant to wake from. After that night in the studio with the girl, his life had been interrupted by a trip to Silverstone to try out the tyres for the new season. The track buzzed with its usual energy, but no matter where he wandered, Charles’s thoughts always drifted back to her and the music they’d played together.

He had left the studio that night haunted by the memory of her delicate touch on the keys, the way their melodies had intertwined as though they’d been waiting for each other all along. He carried it with him over to England, through busy track meets and silent hotel rooms. Late at night, when sleep wouldn’t come, he would close his eyes and hear her music, as if it had lodged itself permanently in his mind.

It wasn’t just the music, though. It was her—the quiet way she had smiled at him, the lightness in her voice when she teased him, the sense of understanding that had passed between them without needing to be spoken.

Now, as Charles stepped back into the familiar silence of the studio late at night right off the plane, he felt a quiet anticipation coiled tightly in his chest. The lights were dim, the air cool and still, and for a moment, it felt like time had paused. The room was empty, and there was no trace of her—no soft melody floating through the air, no sound of delicate fingers dancing across the keys.

Disappointment stirred, settling somewhere deep. He’d been hoping, perhaps foolishly, that she’d be here. That they could pick up where they’d left off. He made his way to the piano, where the polished surface glinted in the low light, as inviting as ever.

And then he saw it—a small note left on the piano bench. His pulse quickened as he unfolded it, her handwriting instantly recognizable, though scrawled in that same casual, hurried way:

"Play with your heart, tesoro."

A soft smile tugged at his lips. The simplicity of the message was so very her. It was a whisper, a reminder of what mattered. A push, gentle but certain.

Charles set the note aside and sat down on the bench, the studio eerily quiet around him. For a moment, he just sat there, the weight of the piano keys beneath his fingers, the faint memory of their music hovering in the air. Then, without thinking too much, he began to play.

The melody started slow, almost hesitant, each note like a thought he hadn’t quite formed yet. But as he played, the music unfolded into something deeper, something more intimate. It wasn’t complicated or grand—it didn’t need to be. It was soft, heartfelt, like a quiet conversation spoken in a language only they understood.

He let go of the pressure, the constant need to craft something perfect, and instead just let the music be what it was—a reflection of what he felt, of what had been buried deep inside him since he’d met her. The music filled the room, curling into the corners like a secret. And for the first time in what felt like months, he felt at peace.

As the last notes lingered in the air, a soft sound broke the quiet. Applause—light, slow, and warm.

Charles turned, startled, and there she was, standing in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the dim light from the hallway. She was watching him, her hands clasped softly in front of her, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. Her eyes sparkled with something tender, something familiar. She’d been listening, perhaps the whole time.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Charles murmured, his voice softer than the room itself.

She took a few quiet steps toward him, her gaze never leaving his. “I didn’t want to interrupt,” she said gently, her smile deepening. “It was beautiful.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The room felt suspended in a kind of stillness, the last remnants of his melody hanging between them, but no words were needed to fill the quiet. She came closer, and Charles shifted slightly on the bench, instinctively making space for her. She sat beside him, their shoulders brushing softly in the small space, the warmth of her presence settling something inside him.

“Play it again,” she whispered, her voice low, like a secret shared just between them.

He hesitated for a second, but then his fingers found their way back to the keys, this time slower, more deliberate. The music that spilled out was softer now, more intimate, as if shaped by the quiet weight of her sitting beside him. She watched as his hands moved, her gaze gentle, and as he played, the world outside seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of them and the music between them.

After a few moments, her fingers joined his, their hands moving together over the keys with a quiet ease. Her touch was so light, so effortless, and the sound they created was simple yet achingly beautiful—a melody that spoke of longing and connection, of words unspoken but deeply felt. There was no rush, no urgency in the way they played, only a slow unfolding of something real and fragile.

Charles stole a glance at her, his heart tightening. There was something unspoken in the air, something that went beyond the music they shared. He could feel it in the way she leaned in ever so slightly, the way her breath seemed to sync with his, the soft, steady rhythm of their playing.

When the last note faded into the stillness, neither of them moved. They sat there, shoulders barely touching, the silence around them thick with the weight of everything unsaid. Slowly, she turned her head toward him, her eyes soft, her smile quiet but full of meaning.

“You played with your heart,” she whispered, her words echoing the note she had left for him.

Charles’s throat tightened, the room suddenly feeling too small, too full of everything he hadn’t yet said. He turned toward her, his voice catching in his chest as he whispered back, “You make it easier.”

Her smile deepened, and for a moment, there was only the soft rise and fall of their breathing, the music they had created still lingering in the air around them. It felt like something had shifted between them, like a door had been opened that couldn’t easily be closed again.

And as they sat there, side by side on the piano bench, Charles realised that the silence no longer felt heavy. It felt full—of possibility, of something quiet and beautiful, waiting patiently to be discovered.

Together.

Charles’s heart raced, the air between them thick with anticipation. They sat in a charged stillness, so close their breaths seemed to mingle. The soft light of the studio flickered gently against her face, casting shadows that made her seem almost otherworldly. Her lips parted, just slightly, as if waiting for something—an unspoken invitation.

Before he could think too much about it, before doubt could creep in, Charles leaned in.

At first, it was tentative—a brush of lips so light it felt like it might disappear if he wasn’t careful. He kissed her softly, testing the moment, unsure if he was crossing some unseen line. But then she responded, her lips pressing back against his with the same quiet hunger he hadn’t realised was burning between them all along.

The kiss deepened, their soft breaths mingling in the quiet. A slow, intoxicating warmth spread through Charles’s chest, pulling him further in. He cupped her face gently with his hand, his thumb brushing against her cheek as their lips moved together, tentative but growing bolder with each passing second. Her hand found his, her fingers slipping between his, and she pulled him closer, as though the space between them had become unbearable.

Suddenly, the kiss wasn’t soft anymore—it became something more urgent, more passionate, the weight of everything they hadn’t said spilling over into the kiss. Charles felt his pulse quicken, his mind lost in the warmth and closeness of her. He slid his hand to the back of her neck, pulling her in deeper, their lips moving together in a rhythm that felt as natural as the music they had created moments ago.

She shifted slightly on the bench, her body pressing closer to his, and the heat between them grew. The world outside seemed to vanish, leaving only the two of them in the dim, quiet studio, the echoes of their kiss the only sound. The softness of her touch, the taste of her lips—it was all intoxicating, a crescendo building within him.

Charles could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he didn’t want it to stop. He could have stayed in that moment forever, lost in the intensity of her kiss, in the way her hands tangled in his hair, in the way she fit so perfectly against him.

But then, as though sensing they were both on the edge of something overwhelming, Charles pulled back just slightly, his lips still lingering close to hers, their breaths mingling in the stillness. They were both breathing harder, and for a moment, neither spoke.

Her eyes fluttered open, her gaze locking with his, wide and full of something unspoken. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly swollen, and Charles had to fight the urge to pull her back into another kiss.

“Tesoro” she whispered, her voice soft and a little breathless, as though she couldn’t quite find the words.

He smiled gently, his thumb brushing over her lips before he let his hand fall away, resting on the piano between them. His heart still raced, but there was something peaceful now, something right. He hadn’t felt this in so long—this connection, this ease.

“I need to thank you, angioletto ” Charles murmured, his voice low and full of emotion.

“For what?” she asked, her eyes searching his, a quiet vulnerability in her gaze.

“For inspiring this,” he said, his words soft but heavy with meaning. “For inspiring me.” He gestured toward the piano, where the notes of their shared music still seemed to hover in the air between them. “That song we played together… I never would have found it without you.”

Her lips parted, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, but her eyes shimmered with something deeper, something that mirrored what Charles was feeling.

“You’ve helped me more than you know,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “Before you, I was stuck. I couldn’t write, couldn’t feel the music anymore. But playing with you—it’s like something clicked. You brought it back.”

She looked at him for a long moment, her smile growing, but there was a quiet tenderness in her expression, as if she understood all the things he wasn’t saying. Slowly, she leaned in, resting her forehead gently against his, and they stayed like that, breathing each other in, the world softening around them.

“I’m glad I could help,” she whispered, her voice a soft caress against his skin.

Charles closed his eyes, letting the moment settle between them, the weight of her words sinking in. He had been searching for something—chasing it endlessly, driving himself to exhaustion in its pursuit. But sitting here, with her, with the music they had created still vibrating in the air, he realised he had already found it.

It wasn’t just the music. It was her. She had become his muse in more ways than one.

He pulled back slightly to meet her gaze once more, his eyes searching hers for a long moment. And then, without another word, he kissed her again—slowly, tenderly this time. It was a kiss filled not with urgency, but with gratitude and something deeper, something unspoken but undeniable.

And in that kiss, Charles knew he wasn’t just thanking her for the music. He was thanking her for being the spark that had reignited something inside him, for being the light in a place that had felt dark for so long.

When their lips finally parted, he rested his forehead against hers once more, the two of them still breathing each other in, their hearts in sync. The studio was quiet now, but it wasn’t empty. The music they had shared—the connection they had formed—lingered in the air like a promise.

And for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, Charles felt whole.

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#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #original character #formula one x reader #ferrari formula one #ferrari formula 1 #ferrari #charles leclerc #logan sargeant #williams racing #carlos sainz #teacher au

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hannieween · 9 months ago

Text

after dark | city lights series | h.js

It all started with a deal with your next door neighbor, Joshua Hong. A little harmless deal that surprisingly led you to finding love; and a part of yourself that you were still discovering.

✮ pairings: joshua hong x female reader ✮ genre: fluff, angst, smut (18+) ✮ aus: rock singer joshua, boyfriend joshua, ldr ✮ word count: 16.4k

›🎧: habit – i.m | chi-ka – tabber ft. dean | singularity – v ♡ | restless – bibi | smoke sprite – so!yoon! ft. rm ♡

→ previous chapters

› nsfw tags under the cut

✮ warnings: alcohol consumption (no dubcon), smut with plot, obnoxiously long sex scene, hard dom joshua, brat reader, reader is on the pill, foul language, dirty talk, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, messy cumplay, body worshipping, jealousy, oral sex (m, f), multiple orgasms, manhandling, a bit of degradation kink, brat taming: pussy slaps, overstimming and crymaxing; aftercare, pet names: sweetheart, princess, baby, bunny (hers) handsome, baby, babe, baby boy (his)

✮ this is loosely proofread, i could've waited patiently for the brilliant @cvntrlseecvntrlvee to proofread this for me but i am, you guess it, impatient. haha sorry my sweet vee. i love u 🩵

✮ this chapter is for @beckyloveshannie, happy birthday, baby 🩵🥰

✮ a/n: the obnoxiously long sex scene is for me. it's a self indulgent thing, i won't apologize for how fucking long it is. you suffer with me kekekekek

✮ a/n 2: also, stick around for the announcement in the final author's note!! •⩊•

✮ disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers ONLY. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.

part viii — part two

The flight that was supposed to be short ended up extending over two hours in the air because of a weather issue. By the time you reached the airport you felt exhausted, both physically and emotionally.

You felt like you had failed the main purpose of going to visit Joshua. Which, in reality, wasn't your sole intention of visiting him. Mainly, you just missed him so bad it made your heart ache. The second intention was to try and make him clear his schedule for your book release party.

However Joshua couldn't do that. He didn't say why, he just said he was not going to be able to attend.

You tried to see reason within that. Joshua was extremely busy these days, recording session after recording session, meetings, networking, shows, you name it.

But, he said in the past that he wanted to be there with you on the day of the release. And you couldn't help but think that there was no way that he changed his mind in the span of a few weeks. Was recording more important than his words to you?

Again, you tried to give Joshua the benefit of the doubt.

Among all of the people coming and going in the vast space of the airport, you spotted a black haired man, wearing a bright pink sweatshirt, pacing back and forth before deciding to sit down on a bench, phone in hand, the screen so bright it illuminated his whole face.

"Mr. Yoon?" you called faking an overtly sweet voice.

He winced at the sound in surprise and lifted his brown eyes to you. "Oh, grandmaaa," he chuckled, standing up to wrap you in an asphyxiating hug, bringing a hand to your head, running his knuckles on your scalp.

"Jeonghan, stop it," you whined.

"I've been calling you, ever heard of picking up the phone when it rings?" he muttered through gritted teeth, pulling away from you almost aggressively.

"I just landed, Jeonghan. I didn't take my phone off airplane mode," you muttered with some annoyance but couldn't fight the smile that crept on your face when you saw his. "Stop it with the grandma thing."

"Don't tell me what to do," he scoffed, putting a hand on the crown of your head to ruffle your hair. "Come on, hurry, or your present's gonna die from suffocation in the car," he added with a low chuckle.

"My what?" you gasped but he immediately turned to the direction of the sliding doors of the airport. "Jeonghan!"

You had to hop quicker to catch his step. "You know for someone who's recently recovering from an ankle injury, you sure are fast," you said with a tired gasp.

"I'm not fast, you're slow," he muttered, turning to give you a look. "It comes with old age."

"Can you stop with that?!" you whined and felt more irritated when he just snorted with a laugh. "I'm younger than you."

"You might be on paper, but not in spirit," he lifted his pointer finger as if lecturing. "Did you tell your boyfriend you arrived safe?"

Your heart skipped. "Oh, I forgot," you muttered and got your phone from your tote bag.

"It's affecting your memory now," he tutted, getting the key to his black BMW M3 and unlocked the door for you, opening before stating: "And please don't sit on your gift."

"Oh, what is it?" you peaked inside the car before climbing into it. There was a large paper bag on the passenger seat. "Is it this?"

You lifted the paper bag with some reluctance as you slid onto the seat. Before you could turn around and look at Jeonghan, he was already closing the door to his car and going around it.

"Very funny," you muttered with a scoff, opening the bag to receive the smell of fries. "You said my gift was alive."

"I mean it had to be alive at some point," he pointed with a shrug.

"I thought I was going to find a pet or something like that," you muttered. "I hate your pranks."

"If you want that, I can get you a bunny," he nodded at you "Or a goldfish, so it doesn't run away."

"Someone hasn't watched Finding Nemo," you said in a mocking singsong tone.

"Pretty sure that's a clownfish, you clown," he let out a chortle and pointed at the bag with his nose. "I got you your burger."

"Oh! Thank you, Jeongjeong," you cooed happily, grabbing a fry but before you could stuff it in your mouth, it was quickly snatched away by his lithe fingers. "Hey!"

He cackled, chewing the stolen fry as his devious laugh filled your ears. "Put your seatbelt on," he started the car and immediately drove off the parking lot and into the road.

The click from the seatbelt resounded between the two of you, since you were busy munching on fries.

"I assumed you'd be hungry" you heard Jeonghan say calmly now, he maintained his eyes on the road.

"Yeah, I am. Thank you Hannie. Want a fry?" you offered.

"Please," he sighed, leaning to your side as you put a fry in his mouth. "You should try the burger, it's really good."

You nodded, though he didn't catch that. His eyes didn't leave the road until he heard the rustling noise of the paper bag as you took the burger with your hands, unwrapping it to sink a bite in.

"But not in my car!" he protested loudly, sending quick looks at you.

"You smoke in my apartment, I'll eat in your car," you quipped and laughed when you saw his jaw nearly dislocate.

"Those two are not equivalent!" he said with a look of disbelief.

"I decide they are," you said matter of factly, showing him a slight smile as you munched on the burger.

"You little–" he cut himself off with a laugh but he settled back on his seat with a small: "Brat."

You froze for a second, getting an odd feeling. Like an unsettling chill crawling down your spine. But Jeonghan was back with his eyes set on the road, paying no mind to what your reaction was.

"Oh, I forgot to tell Joshua that I'm with you," you muttered, trying to mask the alarming jolt in your stomach.

"Did you ask him about next Friday?" he pried, when he looked at you his eyes drifted to the fry you were holding in front of your mouth.

Jeonghan parted his mouth as you stuffed the fry in his mouth.

"He said he won't be able to make it," you muttered, trying to mask the pain constricting the tone of your voice, but it was too late.

Your heart deflated.

"Mmn," he hummed with some understanding. "Did he say why?"

"Nope."

You finished typing the text and sent it to your boyfriend, locking your phone to concentrate on the big burger that looked huge in your hands.

"This is really big, Hannie," you muttered innocently before taking another bite with a pleased groan.

"Yeah, they all say that," he said with a brief chuckle.

You nearly choked on your food. "Jeonghan!" you squealed, making him laugh harder. "You're gross."

"As if you didn't know me already," he scoffed and you told on his need to change the subject when he grabbed his vape pen from the cup holder as he asked: "So how was it? Were you able to tell him what was bothering you?"

"Uh, yeah," you frowned. "About that."

"Fuck me," he groaned, his arms going slack but his hands were still gripping the wheel. "You didn't tell him?"

"I was... busy," you muttered shyly and looked away. "We talked about other things, but I never got around telling him about my... insecurities."

The car came to a stop in the parking lot of the building and Jeonghan turned the engine off, a hand immediately reaching inside the paper bag to grab some fries.

"And how do you feel now?" his eyebrows lifted slightly.

"I feel like crap," you let out a sigh, trying to mask all of your emotions but the weight was too much, making you drop your gaze to your lap. "And now he's not going to be here when I release my book and it makes me question whether I want a stupid party or not because I know I'll feel bummed."

"Why? No! I'm already scouting a place for the party," he shook his head, grabbing more fries.

Your heart sank a little. "You are doing what?" you asked with a tiny voice.

"I'm looking for a nice place where you can have your party," he shrugged. "I think I found something, but I'm negotiating with the owner so we can have an enclosed section of the restaurant."

"Jeonghan you shouldn't have!" you muttered, your tone quivering with emotion.

"I'm not doing it out of the goodness of my heart. It's your boyfriend's instruction," he looked around aimlessly. "He might not be there, but he is putting the black card."

"You're joking," you scoffed. "Tell me you're joking."

"My jokes are funny," he tutted. "This is not a joke."

"Jeonghan," you said firmly, your head tilting to one side.

"I'm being serious!" he smiled the way he did when he knew he was getting in trouble. "He wants you to have a nice party for your big day."

"A party he's not attending!" you whined and your eyes brimmed with tears almost instantly and you had to look away in shame.

"You're not doing this for your boyfriend, you know that," he reprimanded. "Now quit being a sorry ass and eat."

You pouted and looked at your burger.

"What?" Jeonghan chuckled at the sad expression on your face. "What, why are you doing that face? Please eat that or I will."

At that, you raised the burger and took another large bite, the tears that had gathered in the corner of your eyes ran down your cheeks.

Jeonghan threw you a reproachful look, but a slow and awkward smile drew on his face. "You're unbelievable," he snickered, bringing the vape and tucked it between his lips, drawing a big intake.

"And you're mean," you retorted. "You're not a good friend."

"Now you're just making shit up," he laughed.

"I am," you smiled sheepishly, taking another bite from your burger. "Mmnph this has bacon in it," you delighted with big tears in your eyes.

"Yes, princess, it has bacon in it," he muttered aloofly, unlocking his phone and typing something quick.

"How did you know I liked bacon?"

"Everyone likes bacon," he rolled his eyes and sent you a look again.l "You told me you liked bacon."

"I did?" you squeaked out, mouth full of food.

"You were drunk," he muttered, still looking at his phone.

"Mmn," you hummed, pausing for some thought. "I've been doing that quite a lot."

"What, forgetting things?" he raised his head. "Yeah, that's normal in old people like you."

"Jeonghan, no!" you whined in frustration. "I mean, getting drunk."

"Please," he brushed off. "You get drunk two weekends in a row and start getting worried. You should loosen up more, grandma."

"What do you mean?" you asked in a high-pitched whine.

"I mean... you read too much into things," he dropped his phone between his thighs. "Relax. Don't worry about meaningless things. Eat."

"Pfft," you laughed. "Wow, that's great advice, Jeonghan."

"Yeah, it's not my best one," he looked out the window, biting the tip of his thumb. "Listen, I just don't like to see you like this, okay?"

"How?" you inquired, thinking that he might list emotions he saw on your face. Sad, disappointed, deflated.

"Insecure," he replied with a tone of obviousness. "It makes you irrational. That's why you can't sleep. That's why you turn to alcohol."

You swallowed, uncertain as to how to proceed with this conversation. It seemed hard to believe that in such a short time, Jeonghan has learned how to read you perfectly.

"I'm working on it," you replied with a small pout.

"I know," he replied with a warmth coating his tone, the understanding mirroring in his gaze. "But you're not canceling this."

You breathed out through your nose while you munched on your food. The only sound you heard beside you was the raspy intake of Jeonghan's vape.

"God, I've so many things to do," you said, leaning your head back on the headrest. "I don't even know where to start."

"Do you need help?" he asked promptly. "I can help if I can."

"Thank you, Jeonghan but," you sighed with some frustration. "It's stuff only I can do."

"Let me keep you company, then," he said with a reassuring smile. "Unless you want to be alone and you're too shy to tell me."

You looked into his kind eyes for a second, but it was long enough to make you feel an exhilarating jolt deep in your gut. You looked again, feeling a bit flustered and nodded to him.

"Company is okay."

Jeonghan helped you carry one of the boxes full of freshly printed and packed books and you carried another. He looked excited as you both made your way up to your apartment.

"I haven't read your books yet," he commented, weighing the heavy box in his arms. "Makes me feel excited."

"Uhm," you choked out. "Yeah... about that."

"What?" he raised his eyes at you. The elevator came to a stop and you hurried yourself out and to your apartment door.

"You don't know what I write?" you asked as you opened the door and let your friend in, who looked avidly interested in your books upon seeing your reaction.

"Should I?" he asked curiously.

"Joshua didn't tell you?"

"He just told me that you're a writer, that's it," he cocked his head to one side. "Was he supposed to tell me?"

"No, not at all just," you breathed out, putting the box on the round dining table.

"Why don't you just cut to the point?" he asked, sounding a little annoyed now and with a low grunt, he placed the box on the table too. "That shit is heavy. For someone your size, you carried it like it was nothing."

"The difference between you and me, is that I go to the gym so I can sleep," you huffed, feigning some pride but your joke was broken by your own embarrassed laugh.

"Yeah, whatever, grandma," he nodded with a playful smile plastered on his face. "I've heard your knees crack everytime you get up, so shut up."

"You shut up!" you whined like a child.

"Tell me what your books are about," he retorted while pushing the sleeves of his pink hoodie up to his elbows.

"Vampires," you muttered, but your tone fell flat.

"Tsk. I know that," he said, making his way to the kitchen and freely opening the door of your fridge, pulling out a bottle of soju and a can, which he left one day he stopped by. To keep you company as well.

"Can I get one?" you asked, nodding to the bottle of soju.

Jeonghan stopped, his eyes zeroing on your face and nodded. "You got it," he muttered, deciding not to make a comment about your newer alcoholic tendencies.

You went to your study to get your pencil case, coming back to Jeonghan sitting down on the dining table, popping the can of beer open with eyes on his phone screen, that were dragged to your frame when you entered within his line of vision.

"Do you want to watch TV while I do this?" you offered meekly when his eyes darted down your frame swiftly.

"I was thinking of watching you do whatever it is you have to do," he shrugged, leaning back on the chair, knees spread wide.

"Uhm, okay," you replied, sitting on the chair next to him. "You're going to grow bored."

"That's what the booze is for," he replied, pouring some soju on the pair of glasses, and then poured a bit of beer. His fingers moved the glass in circle motions on top of the table and then lifted the glass to you. "Drink."

"Thank you, Hannie," you whispered, taking the glass and holding it for him to clink together.

"Cheers," he said before drinking up. "Now, about your book..."

"Ah," you nervously opened one of the boxes.

The cover was pretty. Prettier than you ever expected one of your books to look like. Even when you were up all night writing the book, you never got to imagine it would sport a jacket so pretty.

You got a permanent marker from your pencil case and opened the book, to swiftly scribble your author's signature, plus a dedication note that read:

To Jeongjeong. Thank you for being the greatest friend and blessing I never knew I needed.

You closed the book and slided it across the table to his hand.

"What?" he asked, completely clueless, opened the book and quickly read the signature. His bright, sweet eyes lit up as he looked at you. "Aw, princess, thank you."

He turned the page over, his eyes reading over the book dedication, the one that the world would see. Your heart dropped, knowing what his eyes were reading, his expression changed a bit but then he immediately closed it.

"So, tell me what this is about," he insisted, trying to change the subject. "Go on, I'm not gonna read it right now."

"The book is about vampires, magic. It has a lot of blood, drama... and sex," you cleared your throat shamefully and drank from your glass deeply. "A lot of it."

A moment dragged on, Jeonghan kept the features of his face in check, but then he broke with a wheezing laughter.

"Don't laugh at me," you whined.

"Sorry, sorry," he recovered with a sniff and then drank from his own glass.

You narrowed your eyes and blurted out: "You knew."

"Of course I knew. Joshuji told me what his involvement in the making of your book was," he sent a cheeky look at you.

"Oh," you gulped. "He did? Why... when?"

"Before you guys got serious he... uh," he dropped his gaze, seemingly deep in thought for a second and then he shook his head. "I shouldn't be telling you this, anyway but he told me about you so, it's fair game."

"What are you talking about, Hannie?" you frowned, a deep remorseful feeling settling in your stomach.

"One night I got a call to come pick him up at Cheol's bar. When I got there, he was completely gone," he sighed and looked upwards to the ceiling, much as if he were uncomfortable by the predicament of being both Joshua's friend and now yours. "You had uh... you guys had a fight, or at least he told me you were taking some time to think about what you wanted."

"Hold on, when was this?" you inquired, your heart sank upon hearing this, and desperately wanted to pinpoint the time when this had taken place.

"I don't know, a month ago? Maybe. I know you guys weren't serious yet. I took him into my car, he was crying like a baby, telling me that he fucked up, that he ruined everything with you, blablabla," he rambled, only pausing to drink from his glass, emptying it completely and then started to refill it.

"Jeonghan, stop," you raised a hand. "Slowly, please."

He sighed again, adding a little grunt in the process. "The next day, he woke up in my apartment, hungover as fuck, he almost didn't know where he was, he didn't even remember being at Cheol's bar," he leaned back on the chair again, crossing his arms over his chest. "He told me everything about you because I wouldn't let him go without him explaining what got him like that."

"Did he..." you inhaled deeply. "Did he tell you why we fought?"

"Yeah, he told me," he whispered, nodding with his head and then he smiled at you. "He told me a lot of things. He told me more about you. And I asked him why you guys got into a no strings attached thing in the first place and he told me he was helping you write some scenes for your book."

You had to look away from him for a moment, squeezing your eyes shut to the image running in your mind, causing you a deep pain that sunk into your chest.

"God," you gasped. Your eyes brimmed with tears when you opened them again.

"Look, I know you wanted a fun, snarky response from me but... I'm telling you all of this because I want you to know, he loves you," he placed a hand on the crown of your haid, ruffling your hair in the process. "He's just dumb when it comes to showing it."

"He never told me all of this," you whispered, wiping a tear from your eye with the back of your hand.

"Of course he didn't," he said, shrugging off. "He probably didn't want you to know that he cried in my car, drunk off his ass."

You leaned your head to one side, sniffing loudly. "I've hurt him so much..." you sobbed, your voice was a mere whine.

"And he has hurt you."

He grabbed his glass and downed its contents in one go. He looked at you, chin raised, heavy lidded eyes now from the alcohol working fast in his system.

"But that's what you're getting for when you're in a relationship, right?" he asked, stretching his arms over his head. "Ups and downs."

"Right," you mumbled with some thought, feeling your gaze lose focus in the wall behind Jeonghan.

"Well, we were signing books, weren't we?" he said abruptly,

You scoffed, grabbed another book and opened its lap to sign the first page while Jeonghan watched you carefully.

"Do you have another marker in here?" he asked, rummaging in your pencil case and pulling out another black marker. "Nice."

"Jeonghan, what–," you blurted out, watching him take a new book, opening the first page and replicating your author's signature nearly to the point. "The fuck?"

"Yeah, I'm not proud about this," he muttered as he put another book in front of him on the table. "But it's coming in handy right now, isn't it?"

You smiled, the sound coming from your lips drew his eyes to your face. "Yeah, knock yourself off, you little humbug."

"Hehe."

The week went by slowly again. Slower than before, it felt like.

You continued to be on top of your work, trying to channel those days when you kept yourself so busy to even think about Joshua, back when he lived thirty seconds away from you.

So your days would look like this: wake up, tend to your needs, turn your computer on, get as much work done without dwelling on the fact that your boyfriend was far away, probably in a city you'd never been before.

Sometimes, he would have the time to call you; and you would talk for a good chunk of time. Sometimes, he wouldn't even return your texts, being so that he didn't have the time and when he did you were already asleep.

The biggest challenge for you was going to bed. But that was almost routine for you. Rolling in your bed, or trying to hold onto the pillow that no longer held the scent of your boyfriend's hair.

When the day of the book release rolled around, you lied in your bed, staring at the ceiling until your alarm beeped. You reached out to stop the annoying sound alarm from your phone and sighed, hoping that the day ahead of you wasn't as bleak as your sleepless night.

But maybe you were just being too much of a pessimist.

You hit off the day by checking your email, texts and such. Apparently your book was one of the most anticipated releases for the Fantasy genre, and the pre-release had also been a success. So you just checked if everything was going alright, not caring to see anything about reviews or anything pertaining to the reception just yet.

So you kept yourself busy towards the time when you had to start to get ready for the party later in the night. Your normal day to day tasks were only interrupted by a call from the smart doorbell ringing.

You approached the small screen and were promptly notified that someone had sent you flowers.

"Come on in," you replied politely and granted them access to the elevator.

The delivery service man was at your door in less than two minutes. The flower bouquet was arranged already in a pretty ceramic vase, a light pink bow wrapped around it, safekeeping a card.

You gently placed the vase in the middle of your dining table. Already knowing the one person who would send you flowers. But you took a moment before opening the envelope to see how pretty the bouquet was.

It was an assortment of all types of flowers and colors, white, yellow, pink, and blue. Then you grabbed the small envelope tucked beneath the bow.

Congratulations, baby! I wish I could be there to give you these in person. But I guess I can give you more flowers every day to make up for it, right?

I am proud of you, bunny. I love you and I miss you every second.

[19:32 PM] you: thank you for the flowers, Josh. I loved them 🥰

You waited for a few seconds in hopes that he would appear online, to receive a text back, a call, anything. But his last message was an I love you, bunny, that he sent more than twenty four hours ago.

Releasing a sigh, you decided to give up your phone, since you had been obsessing over it since Joshua left and it was causing you so much mental stress that you thought you would break soon.

Besides, you would have to be ready soon. Jeonghan had offered to come pick you up himself. More like he just instructed you to be ready, not giving you a chance to pass it up for mere politeness.

But Jeonghan had become your friend, he was no longer just Joshua's friend.

Standing in front of the long mirror, you debated whether to change your dress into a two-piece suit, thinking it might be more in line with the nature of the celebration. But the dress fitted you well, it hugged you in all the right ways. The color of the fabric complimented your skin and the length came just above your knees, legs covered by stockings too.

With a sigh, you grabbed your high heels and went to open the door.

Jeonghan stood there, hand raised in a fist and a startled look in his eye. "How did you know I was already here?"

"Takes me about a minute to get here from the lobby and you just rang the doorbell, so," you replied with a dark and gloomy air about you. "So, let's go."

"Wait," he muttered softly, blocking your way. "Fix your attitude first."

"What?" you grimaced. But he only crossed his arms on his chest, tilting his head to one side. "Jeonghan, I just want to get over this."

His eyebrows pushed up. "This?" he hissed, now looking more serious with a low tone, adding: "This is your party, celebrating your accomplishment. Quit being so hung up on Joshua not being here. This is your night. Come on, let's go."

"Fine," you huffed, following him down the hallway and into the elevator. "I'm so getting drunk tonight."

"Tsk, ah you're so dramatic," he replied, rubbing one eye with the tips of his fingers. "But if it makes you feel better I am in the mood for a drink. Or two."

"It does make me feel better," you muttered awkwardly after the reproachful look Jeonghan gave you, then you feel your face contort into a smile. "You can get really feisty."

"That's the pot calling the kettle black," he muttered and broke into a chuckle himself.

"What," you blurted and his laugh became louder. "And I'm old? You're the one saying the grandpa stuff!"

"It's your influence," he finished chuckling, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "I gotta stop hanging out with you."

"And deprive yourself of good company?" you mumbled under a breath, chest swelling with pride when you could see him choke on his words, a perplexed look on his face was the last thing you saw as you walked out of the elevator.

"Ah, they learn so fast," Jeonghan said with a long sigh, his tone rising in a sing-song manner as he closed the door to his car, you sitting on the passenger seat, smoothing out the skirt of your pretty dress.

The launch party was meant to be a small gathering between friends. Since you were an anonymous author, there was no point in having a public party or in a big library with readers so this party was just to celebrate the launch.

When Jeonghan pulled up at the drive in, the car doors were opened for both of you and you stepped out to a restaurant. The front was adorned with bamboo trees and low warm lighting.

"Hold on," Jeonghan called from behind you, and you noticed that he looked somewhat jittery, sucking in a breath through his teeth. "Do you think I'm still walking funny?"

You gasped at him in exasperation. "Stop trying to distract me, Jeonghan," you whined, rolling your eyes. "Yeah, you still have a limp, but nobody is going to notice. Now can we go inside?"

"Wait, no," he laughed uncomfortably, motioning you over with a hand. "Come here."

"What?" you asked, your face dropping when you saw the serious look on his face.

Jeonghan appeared to be struggling with the tiny brooch clasped on one side of his silk shirt. "I didn't know what to get you… you don't strike me as someone who likes presents," Jeonghan began to explain, casting a meek look at your face. "And after all, you're the first writer I've ever known to publish a book."

You laughed, and rolled your eyes at his bad joke. "What is it?" you asked with excitedness now as his lithe fingers approached you.

"Can I?" he motioned to the chest of your pretty dress and waited until you nodded at him.

It was a dainty gold brooch in the shape of a dragonfly. As you ran your fingers over its small wings, you felt the small stones embedded in them.

"It's supposed to symbolize good luck," he said with a hint of nervousness.

"Thank you. I love it, Jeongjeong," you showed him a smile.

The wind picked up a little, tousling his long black hair; the fringe tangled his eyelashes and made him blink repeatedly, making you giggle. He mirrored your smile and for an instant you thought you saw something change in his eyes.

But he took a step back, pleased with the view of his gift on you, which he placed on one side of your chest.

"Yeah, it's nothing. You don't have to thank me," he brushed off, putting his hand back into his pocket. "Let's go inside.

The section that was reserved for the party was a bar area secluded at the back of the restaurant. As you approached it, being led by Jeonghan walking in front of you, eyeing you every two seconds as if confirming you hadn't run away.

"Okay, are you ready?" he said, stopping before a sliding bamboo door.

"Yeah," you replied, but your tone was full of uncertainty.

"Just put on your best smile, pretend that all of this is a surprise," he coached you just before sliding the door open, doing a half bow and his arm pointing you inside the small bar area section.

You were instantly received with a loud welcome, some of your friends were there, cheering, clapping. It totally threw a blazing hot blush on your face, but you were quick to act surprised and overly cheerful.

Your best friend, Yena, came running to you to wrap you in a hug that almost had you stumbling backwards. She laughed and bounced grabbing your hands, her joy contagious.

"You made it, you made it, you made it," she chirped with a bright smile, but her pretty eyes dimmed upon reading your face expertly. "Are you not happy? What happened?" she asked and immediately knew: "It's him, right? He's not coming."

But before you could even open your mouth to utter a word, a glass of champagne was slided onto your hand. Jeonghan appeared from behind you, handing you the glass with a meaningful look in his eye.

"Come on, have a drink," he instructed and pressed his lips into a smile at Yena in a polite manner.

You immediately downed the glass in three big gulps.

"Oh, okay," Yena narrowed her eyes, understanding the situation. "We're not talking about it, right."

The room was elegant. The walls were painted a dark color, but the warm lights shone beautifully on the pictures hanging on them, also casting shadows on the high tables.

You assumed that the area was intended for parties such as this. It seemed like an extended part of the restaurant, except it was closed off to the general consumers.

The thing about having a party to celebrate something for yourself was that you had to be the center of attention. Luckily, a lot of your guests wanted to talk about your book, about the process of writing it, about how good it was that it was out, and about making numbers.

There were one or two people from the press, sent by your agency to answer some basic questions for publicity pieces and the like. They didn't take your picture, of course, as that would defeat the purpose of anonymity.

All you had to do was have a smile on your face, be polite, be friendly, but something was off. And you didn't want to think about it, but your fingers itched to grab your phone and check if there were any messages from Joshua.

"Okay, we have like one more hour to go," Jeonghan told you, probably reading in your demeanor that you ached to go home.

"What am I going to do in one more hour?" you said insufferably.

"I don't know, I've never been to a book release party," he shrugged.

"What do you do on opening nights of plays you've directed?" you asked him.

"You mean on closing nights," he corrected, pursing his lips cutely. "It's different because a play is more like a team project. I usually just thank the people that helped me make it happen."

"I don't want to make a speech," you quickly said, seeing the little glint in his eye. "I have nothing prepared."

"You'll figure it out," he muttered before turning to the room and clearing his throat loudly.

Jeonghan grabbed two glasses of champagne, gave you one and then gave you a small encouraging smile.

"Hi, everyone," you started, a chirpy nervousness quivering your tone. You cleared your throat and once you got enough eyes on you, continued. "I just wanted to thank you all for coming, and for sharing this night with me."

You looked to the man standing by your side. Jeonghan's lips were pressed in a smile, he nodded at you and placed a lithe, delicate hand on your lower back, as if giving you his support.

"I uh, refrained from doing this party, feeling like my obligation as a writer was done the minute the first copies were printed but, that's not true," you breathed out shakily. "You're all here because you've helped me throughout this process, even with things you're aware of, or things like just being a good friend to me."

You briefly looked at Jeonghan again, his smile had fallen, but his sweet eyes locked on yours.

"I have to thank Jeonghan here, whom without none of us would be here, because I don't know how to throw a party," you heard some muffle laughter, and continued anyway. "I wouldn't have done this without you, Jeongjeong."

Jeonghan dropped his hand from your lower back, blinked slowly at you, the ghost of a smile painting his pink lips.

"How was it?" you asked nervously afterwards, feeling your limbs trembling slightly, a side effect from speaking in front of a crowd.

"You're good with words. It's almost like it's your job," Jeonghan replied, his soft brown eyes lighting up when he saw you smile and heard you laugh.

"Please," you stammered a little.

"I'm being honest," he shrugged. "You know I can be honest sometimes."

"Mmn," you pushed your lower lip outwards, narrowing your eyes at him. "I find that hard to believe."

"Well," he pondered for a second, drawing in a slow breath. "I'm always honest to you, princess."

"Why do I find that more suspicious?" you jibed at him.

He tore his eyes from your face with an embarrassed smile. "Shut up," he scoffed, raising his glass up to you and you drank with him, hearing some people clinking glasses together, some people cheering and a very distinct voice calling your name,

"Congratulations, bunny."

You instantly turned to see your boyfriend, standing behind you, so close that you just took one step to him, his arms wrapping around your body, hugging you tightly.

Your mind instantly began reeling, a thrill of both excitement and frustration coursed through you, bubbling inside your chest. "How... what are you doing here?" you gasped, holding onto him. "I thought you weren't going to make it..."

Joshua kissed your head while he hugged you, his hands rubbing up and down your back until he heard you sob. He pulled back and cupped your face with his hands, looking at your eyes with a soft expression in his face.

"And miss your big day?" he asked, leaning closer to press a tender kiss on your lips. "Wouldn't dream of it."

All the words you've been meaning to tell him coiled in your throat again. The painful thoughts made you recoil, thinking that it was best to tell him in private. So you returned the soft kiss, pressing your lips on his lower lip, feeling his small smile.

"Thank you for being here, Josh," you whispered, pulling back to take a look at his face.

The bags under his dark beautiful eyes denoted not only a long and exhausting day but weeks of hard work and no rest in between. He even looked a little pale under the warm glow of the lamps on top of both of you.

You suddenly wished you could feel bad for him, for all the accumulated remorse, frustration and sadness of him leaving, for his lack of communication, for making you feel neglected, even if he didn't intend to do so.

Joshua pressed his lips, nodding at you with a knowing look when he understood the discontent on your reaction.

"We'll talk later, okay?" you mumbled, giving him a squeeze on his arm.

"Okay," he replied, his eyes drifting from your face and falling on a figure standing beside you. A tired smile drew on your boyfriend's face as he approached his best friend. "Hannie."

They exchanged a quick hug and Joshua thanked him for helping throw the party for you. With a pang of concern, you wondered then if Joshua had heard your brief speech before he decided to approach you.

Joshua let out a sharp exhale, pulling out his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. "I have to take this," he told you, planting a kiss on your forehead and excusing himself out of the room.

You followed him with your eyes until you lost sight of him, releasing a sigh of your own, coming to grips with what was happening, you turned to Jeonghan.

"Did you know?" you demanded.

He pushed his eyebrows up. "Know what?"

"That he was coming!" you gasped, looking around to make sure no one was paying attention to the whole exchange.

"Of course not," he leaned his head back, eyeing you with a hint of reproach. "I would've told you. You know that."

You caught the certainty in his eyes. You knew that Jeonghan was a crafty liar, but he has shown you that no matter what, he has your back.

"Why do you look like that?" he muttered discreetly.

"Like what?" you mumbled with a tiny voice.

"You're doing that thing with your face when you're about to cry. Oh no–," he muttered quickly and then, his whole stance changed, he took a step closer to you, as if shielding you from the eyes of your guests when you took a sharp intake of breath, your sob resounding loudly.

"Princess, don't cry right now," he said gently, stretching an arm to reach for a napkin on the table behind you and passing it to you.

"I'm so mad at him," you whispered, lowering your head so you could easily hide your tears.

"I don't understand. You wanted him here, you cried for days because he wasn't coming and now that he is here, you're mad at him?" he muttered hurriedly, and you looked up to see his frown.

"He didn't tell me he was going to be here," you sniffed quietly, using the napkin to carefully gather your tears without ruining your makeup completely.

"That doesn't help me understand," he gave you an awkward smile, darting a look up and then back at you. "Listen, he's coming back. You can go to the washroom behind me, or you can confront him now."

You rolled your eyes, seeing the triumphant smirk stretching on his lips, because he knew what you'd choose. "Screw you, Jeonghan."

"I'll cover you. Go," he nodded back to the hallway behind him.

You swiftly walked down the hallway and towards the door of the washroom. Luckily your quick argument with Jeonghan got you heated enough that you composed yourself from the rageful fit towards your boyfriend.

So you just made sure that the makeup you used in your eyes and your lashes hadn't run. Looking in the mirror for any signs that you had cried at your own party and when you were certain enough, you walked back to the table.

Joshua was already there, having a lively conversation with Jeonghan. Your boyfriend's face lit up when he saw you, it was an attentive look he gave you, extending a hand at you as you made your way to his side, and he quickly secured an arm around your waist.

"Everything alright, bunny?" he asked.

"Joshua," you gasped, looking at Jeonghan who was witnessing your pet name being thrown around freely.

"What?" he chuckled, his smile drawing lines on the corner of his eyes.

"Don't call me that in front of people," you whined with a high pitch tone that would instantly send a warm rush of blood to your face.

"Why? You're embarrassed of what Jeonghan would think of it, baby?" he teased and you smashed a hand against his shoulder playfully.

"Yes!" you replied in an obvious tone.

"Don't worry, baby. You can trust that Hannie won't judge," he said, casting a glance to his best friend.

You suddenly felt like you were missing something. Looking at Jeonghan who just smiled at you playfully while your boyfriend appeared to be mirroring his smirk.

"Still, it makes me feel embarrassed," you muttered quietly but it was too late now.

Jeonghan chuckled at the expression on your face, mocking you a bit like he usually does. "While you two lovebirds are tearing at each other, I have to go get something arranged," he said, swiftly making his way to talk to someone from the staff.

You awkwardly turned to see your boyfriend, who broke into a shameless laugh. "Joshua, you can't be calling me bunny in front of Jeonghan."

"Why not?" he asked, shrugging off with some ease. "He calls you princess."

"You," you choked. "You know that?"

Joshua drew in a breath, chest swelling as he nodded with his head. "Yeah, I know that," he replied shortly. "I heard him."

"I thought it was a normal thing for him," you frowned, feeling a little confused.

"It's not," he breathed out, bringing up a hand to pinch your chin gingerly. "We'll talk about it later, okay?"

"Are you sure?" you blurted, reading the features of his face desperately. "I do-don't want you to think that–"

"Baby," he whispered, shaking his head slightly. "We'll talk about it later."

You decided to let that matter rest then, thinking that it was best to start by what was more important to you.

"We need to talk about many things," you said, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I know," he tilted your head back using his hand on your chin, to gently press a kiss on your lips. "Let's enjoy tonight? I have something for you."

Joshua drew a small box from the pocket of his jacket. It was a black velvet box that fit perfectly in the palm of his hand. Your heart almost gave out as he used his other hand to open it, and your hand flew to your chest.

But it was a dainty necklace, a heart locket made of gold. Heart racing, you looked up at his doe eyes, which were smiling softly upon seeing your reaction.

"Do you like it, baby?"

"Yeah," you breathed. "It's beautiful, Josh."

"Turn around," he motioned you over so he could clasp it around your neck. You pulled your hair back to give him access to your neck and placed the necklace around it. You reached for the delicate heart locket with your fingers, feeling something engraved into it.

At that moment, Jeonghan returned with a smile on his face that told you he was up to something. "The cake is here! Finally."

"What cake?!" you gasped, your heart sinking to your stomach when he pulled out his phone and started recording your face.

"Should we sing happy birthday? After all it's your book's birthday," he teased with a mischievous grin and called, "Everyone!"

Then as if on cue, everyone around you, your guests, your friends, your boyfriend behind you started chanting a happy birthday song as a big cake in the shape of your book, was neatly placed in the high top table in front of you.

You smiled when you noticed that the art of the cake was an exact replica of the cover of your book.

As the chorus continued on, you tried to keep a smile on your face, although the blush had started to create a tingling sensation on your cheeks now from the embarrassment and from being the only center of attention.

Jeonghan smiled broadly at you, keeping the camera of his phone steady on your face. He seemed content with his work, with all of the things he planned for this night.

A warm hand parked on your lower back. Joshua gave you a reassuring smile, singing along with all of your guests and friends until the song came to its end. You almost died of embarrassment. But you smiled back at your boyfriend and tried your best to enjoy the rest of the night.

The ride back home was quiet. You didn't mind this until a large and warm hand landed on top of your thigh, squishing your skin over the fabric of your stockings.

It was a squeeze that demanded attention, a look, a word, anything. Though you continued to look out the window, a wave of remorse eating you from the inside.

You fought the need to say something, but being so that the painful thoughts plagued your mind, the best choice was to keep quiet until you got home.

Still, you slid a hand on top of his.

You burned to tell him everything that kept you awake at night, you needed him to know what you felt during the days of his radio silence.

"Is everything okay, baby?" Joshua asked, following you out of the elevator and down the hallway to your door. "You've been very quiet."

The more you thought of an answer, the angrier you felt. You bit on the inside of your cheek as you opened the door for him. The twist in your stomach tightening as you crossed the living room, discarding his leather jacket on the chair placed in one corner of your bedroom.

You had no idea if he was still close behind you, the buzzing in your ears worsening as the first hiccup came.

"Baby, tell me what's wrong," you heard him say, a hint of concern lacing his sweet tone.

"You–," you choked on a sob, turning to see his face, the face you wanted to see for days. "You made me believe you weren't coming! To what end? To surprise me?"

You saw Joshua's mouth parting as he searched for words and just as he was about to start explaining himself, your rage made you spurt out words out of your mouth, tears rolling down your cheeks.

"Do you know how fucking bad I felt the whole time?" you demanded, turning away from him when you saw his face contort into a sad frown. "I thought you didn't care enough to be here, do you know how fucked up is that?"

You were standing in front of your dresser, pretending to take off your earrings but the silence from him was killing you, so you turned around again to see him.

Joshua looked at you cautiously for a second, his throat bobbing as it seemed that he too choked on his own words. "I didn't want to give you any false hope by telling you I'd be here when I wasn't sure myself," he said with a low tone, giving you a guilty look. "I tried to get as much work done as possible so I could come see you."

You sniffed, standing with your shoulders drawn back, feeling yourself guarding up again. "Why didn't you at least say something today?" you uttered, tasting the saltiness of your tears that fell on the corners of your lips.

"I've been working from six in the morning," he said, cocking his head to one side. "And then I was on another flight, exhausted so I fell asleep."

"That's a bad excuse, Joshua," you reprimanded with ire blinding you now, taking your high heels to toss them on one corner of your closet.

"All day I've been checking my phone to see if I get anything from you, do you know how that feels?" you were raising your voice now, from the bottled up emotions, the stress and frustration from today.

"Yes. I do, actually."

Joshua looked upwards, releasing a sigh that made his shoulders go slack. He looked like he hated this, to fight with you. He looked the same way he did that night when you both got angry at each other on the rooftop.

You trapped your lower lip between your teeth in an attempt to stop it from quivering and looked away from your boyfriend's face.

"I'm sorry," he said, now looking at you again, sorrow in his eyes as he took a cautious step towards you. "I'm so sorry, baby. I tried to get here as a surprise, yes. But I just couldn't leave without getting work done first and that delayed everything. I couldn't get to your party on time and I'm sorry for it."

As soon as his arms wrapped around you, you hid your face on the crook of his neck. With a strangled sob, you got the scent of his musky cologne, the very distinct smell of his skin as you clung to the white t-shirt he was wearing.

"I'm sorry too," you whispered.

"Sh, it's okay. It's okay," he shushed repeatedly, grabbing your face with his hands and leaned to look in your eyes, face to face. "You have nothing to apologize for, baby. This is on me, I fucked up and I am sorry."

"I shouldn't have yelled at you," you sobbed and quieted down when he pressed his forehead against yours.

"It's okay, it's okay" he replied, swallowing hard. "Yell at me, swear at me, but talk to me, baby. Don't keep it to yourself."

"I was so mad," you mumbled, grabbing his wrists with your hands.

Joshua pulled back, giving you space to breathe. You saw the remorse in his face, his eyebrows knitting together, his big eyes following your mouth and your eyes as you continued to shed tears.

"I thought that you didn't care to be here," you confessed with a tiny hiccup.

"I'm sorry baby, that was the least of my intentions," he replied softly, but you could see the trouble it caused him to hear you say that. "Believe me, I tried to get to your party on time."

"I believe you, Josh," you replied, feeling like you could start crying again. "But I just wish you'd let me know earlier."

A deep frown appeared on his face. "I never wanted to make you feel bad, baby."

Before you could hold rein to your actions, your head tilted, your heart already giving into the big brown eyes that were pleading for you to forgive him.

"I told you that next time I wouldn't be too forgiving," you reminded him, your tone coated with a gentleness that signified your resignation over your anger.

Joshua's gaze softened, lifting a hand to caress your cheek with his long and delicate fingers. "I know, baby. I'm so sorry" he sighed in relief when you suddenly wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. "How can I make it up to you?"

"Just..." you whispered, pulling back slightly, hands encircling his neck lightly. "Kiss me."

He looked unsure for a second. As if he wanted to say more, but quickly obliged to your request, seeing that you were seeking something more than an exchange of words. You needed him.

His hand found your chin, grabbing you gently as he leaned closer, swallowing hard before pressing his lips on yours. Your hands cupped the back of his head, urging him to kiss you deeper, harder.

"Baby," he grunted in your mouth. "Don't you think we need to talk more about this?"

"No," you brushed off immediately, using your hands to press on the back of his head, crushing your mouth on his.

But even if he was returning the kiss, you didn't feel him there. You could almost hear his mind reeling.

"Please, Joshua," you sobbed, something so desperate in you that your voice quivered. "Please, baby, just kiss me."

"We need to talk," he responded. "We've been going around in circles with this. We can't solve this by having sex. You know that."

"What are you talking about?" you pulled back, retrieving your hands from his nape.

He looked at you in disbelief for a second. "I know something's wrong," he frowned. "I've known you long enough to notice when you're deflecting."

"Josh," you sighed.

"Baby, you promised," he insisted, his big eyes reading your face.

"What do you want me to say?" you blurted, digging your grave further.

"What's going on?" he asked gently.

Your heart crushed at the look he gave you. Like a lost puppy, trying to chase you, you tried to ignore the sound of his voice breaking a little.

"It's nothing," you whispered. "I've been a little bummed about you leaving—no, not leaving. I just wish you reached out to me more frequently. We talked about this last time! You've been ignoring me and I feel hurt over that."

"I don't do it on purpose," he said with a tired sigh, but he looked guilty. "I try to get all of your messages but the truth is... I'm tired."

Your heart deflated, but you quickly understood that he wasn't talking about you, or your relationship. Joshua meant his life, his career taking off faster than he or you could comprehend.

"Everything is happening so fast, I feel like I haven't had time to breathe," he said with a strangled tone. "I'm sorry, baby. I never meant for you to be affected by this. By me."

You reached out to hold his hand, making his big eyes look back to you. "Why didn't you tell me?" you asked softly.

"I don't want to burden you, bunny," he muttered, squeezing your hand. "But I realize now that it was better to tell you. None of this would've happened if I had."

You used your free hand to push his hair back from his face. "I should've told you sooner too."

The corners of his lips rose slightly. "I guess we're both learning about this, right?"

"I guess we are," you whispered.

"C'mere," he mouthed, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug, one arm around your waist and the other across your back, his hand reaching the back of your head.

His kiss was tender at first, his lips brushing yours softly, his tongue caressing your lower lip, once, twice until you moaned helplessly. Then the kiss deepened, demanding more from each other, your breath hitched as his mouth crushed into yours, tongues meeting with hunger.

Your hands searched for the hem of his white t-shirt, pulling it up clumsily.

Joshua pulled back from the kiss, yanking his t-shirt from his body in one movement and tossed it to one side blindly. Then you heard him inhale sharply when your hands ran over his toned pecs, to his lats, feeling the hard muscle, his soft skin.

You kissed his mouth, his cheek, a hand caressing his long hair as you moved to kiss his eyelids, standing on your tiptoes to reach him.

Joshua laughed softly, his hands squeezing your waist with urge. "Sit back, baby," he pushed you to the edge of your bed.

You obediently did so, but hooked your fingers on the belt of his jeans, pulling him towards you. You heard a gasp that resembled the sound he makes when he smiles.

"Oh," he blurted. "Baby, slow down."

You were placing open mouthed kisses on his tummy, a soft moan escaped you when you caught the familiar taste of his skin. Your hands caressed him as your kisses trailed up his pecs, licking one nipple first.

"Mmn," he hummed softly, his hand cupping the side of your head when your teeth grazed the underside of his pectoral, playfully landing more kisses around the sensitive area of his darkened bud.

You took your time doing the same exploration on the other side of his chest. The tip of your tongue lapping on his nipple, tasting his skin, the scent of his cologne.

You suckled on his skin harshly, hearing a soft grunt reverberating on the chest you were leaving marks on.

"Lie back, sweetheart," he urged when you detached your mouth from his beautiful skin, now marked with reddened spots.

You crawled on the bed, watching him follow you, pressing one knee after the other, looking at you with a gaze darkened with lust and love.

Joshua pressed his body against yours, trapped now between him and your mattress. He resumed kissing you deeply, his hand crept from your face, down to your neck, caressing your shoulder, searching for your hand to lace his fingers with yours.

"Joshua," you mumbled into his mouth as he gave you shallow kisses, moaning softly in your lips. "Baby."

"Mm?" he responded, kissing your mouth as if he wanted to melt into you.

"I want you to do something for me," you said, your breath catching when he flipped your body and his on the bed, so now you were straddling him. Some of the seams of the skirt of your dress ripped, and you pulled it upwards, uncovering up to your butt.

"Anything," he breathed, the pads of his pointer and middle finger grazing your cheek, holding you still as he placed feathery kisses on your lips.

You pulled back slightly, looking at the beautiful features of his face. "This is going to sound crazy."

The soft lines between his eyebrows showed when he frowned ever so slightly. "What?" he asked, his eyes reading your every expression.

You fidgeted with the long strands of his hair, looking for the words to express what you wanted without sounding ridiculous.

"Do you want to take control, baby?" he guessed, moving his head to one side while reading your face with his eyes. "Is that what you want?"

"No, no," you giggled a bit from how far off his idea was from yours. "It's quite the opposite really..." you brushed the studded piercing with your thumb, making his eyelids flutter.

"Tell me what you want, bunny," he whispered.

"I want you to be... hard on me, Josh," you asked, positioning your knees firmly on the bed to press your crotch on the hard bulge beneath his pants.

A low grunt coiled in his throat, his hands sliding down your body to grasp your hips. "Why?" he grunted, his frown not relaxing.

"I just want it," you pressed down again, moving your crotch against his hardened cock, the seam of his jeans rubbing against the sensitive bud of your cunt. "Please?"

"Mmn," he hummed seemingly pondering over your request, his hand came up to hold your chin, pressing open mouthed kisses on your lips. "Don't you want me to spoil you tonight, baby?"

"You can spoil me by being a little mean to me," you teased, a grin appearing on your lips, which he kissed right away.

"That's something I never thought you'd say, baby," he admitted with a breathy chuckle that you felt in your mouth.

"Please, Josh?" you pleaded, putting on your best puppy eyes.

"Do you think you deserve it, baby?" he asked, his voice merely a rasp.

You took some consideration over his words and then nodded slowly, mouthing, "Yeah, I do."

"Have you been bad, sweetheart?" his tone had recovered, now waking with the usual tone he uses when he's domming you.

"Yeah, I think I have been," you responded with a sweet tone of your own.

His pretty pouty lips stretched in a small smirk. "Mmn, my baby was bad while I was away?" he purred, his dark eyes glimmering under the soft lights of your bedroom lamps.

"Maybe a little," you replied cheekily.

"A little?" he toyed, giggling a little. "If you were only a little, I don't see why I should go hard on you."

"Mm, because I want you to," you replied, pouting at him now. "Come on, baby. I can take it."

He appeared to be considering your proposition, weighing in your words, the look on your face, the determination he probably saw in you and with a final booping of your nose with the tip of his finger he nodded.

"Anything that you don't like, anything you feel wrong, you can tell me," he promised. "You know that, right?"

"I know, Josh." you smiled meekly at him, caressing his dark locks.

"That's my baby," he whispered, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he met them with your own.

You knew why he said this every time he dommed you. Within all of the nights that you have spent under his control, though not many, you've gotten a sense that he said this because without your consent, none of it would work.

It was simple. Joshua would go as far as you would allow him to go.

His hand left the side of your thigh and found your neck, the pads of his fingers caressing your jawline as he brought your face down so he could kiss you.

"Why have you been bad, baby?"

A deep remorseful feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. You knew he'd try to understand why you wanted him to punish you. By now it was some form of therapy for the two of you, letting it out on sex, talking it out, reconciliations during after care.

But this time, instead of you dodging your answers, Joshua gave it right for you.

"Have you been losing trust in me lately?" he asked, his tone soft and so calculated that you had to pull back to take a look at the features of his face. "Is that how you've been bad?"

"Yeah," you whispered, waiting for his reaction, expecting to see him turning this around and trying to talk you out of the situation. "Are you mad at me?"

"No baby, of course not," he reassured, drawing in a breath as his hand grasping the side of your neck pulled you in for another long, wet kiss.

"But, don't you think I need to be punished?" you asked with an overly sweet and innocent tone.

"Is that why you want me to go hard on you?" he growled as you decided to start grinding on him again. "You want me to, god, slow down, baby."

You immediately slowed the sway of your hips on him, deciding to ease your weight on him, moving your crotch ever so slightly on his. "Yeah," you replied, pressing down on his crotch, angling your cunt against the seam of his jeans.

"Do you feel like you need to be punished, bunny?" he leaned his head in the direction of his shoulder.

"I do, Josh," you mewled with a sigh, pressing your crotch on him slowly.

"Then that's all I need," he growled in your mouth, cupping the back of your head to capture your lips with his own with a gasp, kissing you fervently.

His fingers tangled into the hair growing on the base of your head, fisting it as the kiss turned into a hard, heated one. You felt a hand searching the chest of your dress, then you understood that he was getting rid of the brooch Jeonghan gave you.

Joshua tossed it aside, your gift landing somewhere on the bed. "I need you out of this," he grunted in your mouth, his fist scrunching the skirt of your dress, motioning it upwards.

"Help me with the zipper?" you asked with a nervous whisper.

"Yeah," he replied, fingers swiftly getting zipping down your dress.

You climbed off of him and the bed altogether, removing your dress with a playfulness to your movements. Joshua propped himself on his elbows to watch you reveal a new set of lingerie, the pastel blue contrasting with the thigh high black stockings.

"Do you like it?" you mumbled sweetly, lifting your arms delicately before you did a half twirl for him, showing him the back of your panties, that exposed your buttcheeks.

Joshua sighed in delight, pushing himself off the bed and walked to you. "I love it, baby," he replied.

"Do you want me to leave it on?" you asked, as you reached out to get the rest of his clothes, undoing his belt with shaky fingers.

"For now, yeah," he replied gruffly, watching you zip his pants down, tucking your hands beneath the stretchy fabric of his black boxers to yank them down and he helped you remove them by stepping out of his clothes.

Once he was wholly naked, you marveled in all his beauty, the proud nakedness in which he stood in front of you.

A fingertip dipped gently in his belly button, making him smile fondly at you. But the smile faltered when you trailed down, feeling the soft hairs of the happy trail that led to his pubic hair.

Your fingers encircled around the girth of his cock, already hard for you. The skin of his shaft was soft, interrupted only by the vein on the underside and the ridges before the bulbous, rosy brown head. You pumped him slowly, gently, your thumb gathering the precum gathering in his slit.

You sank to your knees, casting a look up at him. Your eyes locked with his as you pressed a soft kiss on the tip of his cock, licking your lips, tasting his precum in the process.

His hand brushed your hair from one side of your head. "Baby," he rasped. "Oh, god, baby," he moaned deeply when you took his cockhead into your mouth, wrapping your lips around it, tongue pressing on him as you pushed your head forward.

You slowly bobbed your head back and forth, taking him an inch further at a time, swirling your tongue around his cockhead every time you pulled your mouth back on him.

"Fuck, baby," he whispered gruffly, closing his eyes briefly to then use his hands to pull your head back. "Just like that."

You lapped your tongue on his cockhead, running the soft part of the underside of your tongue around him as you moved your head back, a soft smacking noise created by your lips when you kissed his tip.

"Do you want to fuck my mouth, Josh?" you asked using a sweet tone, looking up to his eyes, which darkened with lust and fascination over you.

"Do you still remember how to do this, baby?" he asked, grabbing his drool coated cock with one hand, the other parking firmly on the back of your head, holding you steady.

Your eyes looked up to him, his facial expression controlled, measured as he smirked at you when you instinctively parted your mouth for him. "Good girl."

You pulled out your tongue, letting him rest his heavy cock on top of it. When you heard a soft grunt escape him, you closed your lips around his thick girth, simulating an open kiss, pulling your mouth back and creating a soft, smacking sound on the reddened tip of his.

"I'm going to move on your mouth," he warned with a soft tone, removing his hand from his cock to hold your head now with both of his hands. "Tap on me if you want me to stop."

Your eyes dropped from his face, to the faint film sweat trailing down his neck, between his pecs and onto the hard muscles of his abdomen that clenched softly when he started pushing his cock down your throat.

A moan got muffled by his cock in your mouth. You remembered to tell yourself to relax your tongue under the heavy length of him, giving him access to fuck your mouth freely.

"That's it baby," he whispered when he felt your mouth go lax. "You always take my cock so fucking well."

Your eyes were following the movements of his body, relishing on the way he kept himself controlled, slowly pacing himself, pushing an inch farther with each thrust until you nearly brushed his soft pubic hair with the tip of your nose.

One hand moved from the back of your head to the side of your face, his thumb resting on top of your cheekbone as he commanded your eyes up to his.

"Breathe, bunny," he directed with a gentleness that betrayed his following movements.

With a gasp, he snapped his head back, ramming his cock inside your mouth. Your hands flew to hold onto the hard muscle of his thighs, gagging around his girth, the tip reaching the back of your mouth, hitting the spot repeatedly.

The hand that was still on the back of your head, holding you by your hair forced you back, to give himself ample space to push his cock farther, so that he could hear you gag around him, feel the muscles of your throat constricting around his tip.

"Fuck," he breathed, closing his eyes to the vision of you taking him so obediently. "Mmph," he let out a puff of air.

You responded with a moan of your own. Watching him screwing his eyes shut, forcing himself to keep his pace steady, slow for you instead of tearing your mouth open with his cock. Even though it was exactly what you wanted.

"Oh, god," he groaned, with his head still tilted back, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. "Baby—fuck. Baby you feel so, so good."

You let out a whiny noise, making him lower his gaze at you.

"I'm close," he breathed, a grunt coming out of him as he swallowed hard again. His finger digging on the soft skin of your cheek as he said. "And you are taking it all, bunny."

You moaned in a half confirmation sound as best as you could, still gagging on him, tears running down your cheeks uncontrollably, drool dripping down the corners of your lips and onto your chin.

"Good girl," he gasped softly, closing his eyes with a pleased grin on his face.

Then he lost the grin when his mouth parted, his brow furrowing gently before he moaned deeply. You held in a breath through your nose, swallowing the ropes of cum spurting out of his cock and down your throat.

Joshua had stopped his thrusts, as he came with deep breaths and tiny grunts, keeping you still for him while sighing: "Goooood fucking girl."

But he pulled out too quickly, sloppily. You noticed it was on purpose by his controlled move: using the hand on your face to push back your chin, forcing your mouth open and removing his cock from your throat.

You choked, coughed and breathed in, all within two seconds. Hot tears sprinted from your eyes as you remained on his firm grasp, keeping your head leaned back.

"Breathe. Breathe through your nose," he whispered softly, using the pad of his thumb to gather the cum and drool that you had spat back on your chin, sliding it back to your mouth. "Thaaat's it, baby. Slowly."

You breathed in desperately, heaving almost; vision going blurry in and out as more hot tears kept on falling on your cheeks.

"You did so well, bunny," he muttered, a cheeky grin falling on the features of his face.

His large hand released your hair, sliding on the side of your face, cupping it fully. You closed your eyes, a sigh escaping you because of the tenderness of his touch, feeling it cause your skin to prickle.

"Want me to make you feel good, sweetheart?"

Panting, you raised your gaze to see him. A cold shudder coursed through you when you saw his controlled manner, the enjoyment in his dark glimmering eyes.

"Please?" you mumbled, and upon speaking you had to gulp hard and clear your throat.

"Sit on the bed for me," he nodded behind you and you rose to your feet, quickly sitting on the edge of your bed. A question arose in your mind as to what were your boyfriend's next moves.

"I love it when you use these," he mumbled, running the pads of his fingers over the lace band of your high knee stockings. "You looked so beautiful tonight, baby."

"Thank you, Josh," you beamed at him, the gesture making him cup your cheek, leaning to get a quick kiss from your lips.

His hand slid to your back, skin prickling as his fingers unfastened the clasp of your pastel blue bra. The other hand grabbed your bra by its middle, pulling it from your body with one swift move, leaving your tits bare for his view.

Joshua wasted no time as his hands moved to the band of your pretty lace panties. You propped your hands behind you, leaning back slightly as he slid your panties down your thighs, unhooking one ankle after the other.

Then it was his turn to drop to his knees, your bed was high enough so he only leaned his head between your thighs, motioning them over with his large hands and you placed them each on his shoulders, locking your ankles, feet resting comfortably on his back.

"I've missed you so much, bunny," he muttered, littering your inner thighs with kisses, reaching your mound before angling your thighs open for him, his tongue lapping between your folds, giving them a broad stroke.

"Mmnph, Josh," you mewled, hands flying to tangle your fingers in his hair, following the movements of his head as he gave your cunt generous strokes with his tongue. "Joshua—fuck, baby, yes, yes."

The tip of his tongue swirled around your bud, gently tugging at it with his lips before sucking on it lightly. Your thighs flinched, a moan spilling from your lips when he stuck to flick at your clit with the tip of his tongue.

He continued teasing your clit like this until you came, fast and loud, fingers clenching on his long hair, crying out his name. But he didn't stop there, instead, you felt his lips wrap around your now swollen bud, starting to suckle at it gently.

"Josh," you called, propping yourself on your elbows. "Baby, I need you now," you mewled, but he completely ignored you.

He started to suck on your clit harder, moaning against your clit as you came on his mouth again, writing desperately, making his hands hold you down to the bed.

"Were you bad while I was away, baby?" he asked softly.

You were breathing slowly, coming down from your high with trembling limbs and barely able to utter a word when a firm slap came down your clit.

"I asked you a question," he rasped, ignoring your loud and very lewd yelp. He landed another slap, using his four fingers on your clit.

"Fuck," you breathed, flinching on your bed when you received the intense feeling of his hand clashing with your sensitive clit. "Yeah, I have."

Joshua rose to his feet, and you couldn't help but feast your eyes over his beautiful body. The hickeys on his chest were flaring red, your eyes trailing down to see his cock fully hard again.

"You've been having fun while I was away, baby?" he purred, dipping his fingers on your core to then push the pads of his fingers over your swollen clit, covering it with your arousal.

"F-fun?" you squeaked pathetically.

"Fucking yourself with your toys, with your hands... thinking of someone who isn't me, perhaps?" he cocked his head to one side.

You paused, feeling your heart sink down to your stomach. And before you could grasp at the evident trap in his question, another harsh slap landed right on your clit.

"No, no!" you replied as quickly as you could. "I'd never do that!"

"Mn? Then how have you been bad, baby?" he asked, pinching your clit with his fingers, giving it pulsating pinches over and over before delivering another slap.

The intense feeling your pussy suffered made you convulse. "Fuck! That's too much, baby," you said in a fucked out tone, recoiling when he swiftly slapped your clit again.

"That's not my name, bunny," he growled, a devilish smirk appearing on his face.

"Sorry," you slurred out.

"Did you imagine someone else playing with this pussy, baby?" he continued with his little game of questions, his honeyed voice sending a chill through your body.

"No! I wouldn't—I'd never," you gasped pathetically, your legs beginning to shake from the lack of support.

"Did you wish someone else fucked you?"

The ghost of a smirk crowned his lips, the studded eyebrow twitching up slightly when you didn't answer. You held in a breath when you saw Joshua grabbing his cock with one hand, guiding it to your entrance.

A pathetic mewl spilled from your lips when he sheathed his cock inside you in one go, holding your legs with his arms, hands parked on your hips as he fucked you slowly at first.

"Oh, god," you sighed, the bite of his cock stretching your walls felt mind-numbingly good that you barely had any control over yourself.

"What's that, bunny?" he gasped, the features of his face riddled with pleasure too.

"Josh," you whimpered, rendered utterly useless, all you could focus on was his cock, stretching your walls like nothing else. "Please, faster, fuck me faster, please."

Joshua blinked slowly at you, there was no denying the love in his eyes. But he didn't give you what he wanted, he continued to push his cock inside you slowly, enjoying the pulsating of your walls around him from all the pleasure building up, anticipating another climax.

"Do you want someone else playing with what's mine?" he asked in a hollow tone, his usual sweetness robbed by the strain and the focus he kept over the calculated pace of his thrusts.

You felt your brow furrowing in confusion, a light gasp leaving your mouth before you could even think of a response.

"Did you miss me, princess?" he asked, his movements picking some speed, fucking you with shallow thrusts, testing you before starting to plow on you mercilessly.

The change was so sudden you were snapped from your quiet confusion.

"Yes, Josh! O-of course," you gasped, your hands searching for something to hold onto. His thrusts became so brutal that your entire body was pushed on your bed, making your tits bounce and your breath catch.

"Mmn," he hummed before letting a puffy sigh out of his lips, then he tilted his head back, eyelids fluttering as he moaned deeply. "Fuuuck," he rasped as he came inside you with hard thrusts, his mouth parting slightly.

A chill coursed through you. Joshua didn't care if you came with him, or before him, he emptied himself inside you without a warning, his face torn with pleasure as he did so. And even if you felt close to your own climax, you couldn't care less as well.

Joshua stopped pushing his cock inside you, shuddering slightly when he pulled out of you not a minute after. His cum dripped out of you helplessly, leaving a warm trail as it slid slowly from your entrance.

"God, baby, you're so messy," he reproached with a soft tone.

"Mm?" you cluelessly looked at him. "Fuck!" you gasped when his fingers swiftly picked up his own cum, pushing it back to your core.

Then he took his long fingers between your lips, inserting them into your mouth. You tasted the salt of his cum and your own arousal, making you inhale deeply because of the sudden intrusion of his fingers deep in your tongue.

"Good girl," he whispered, pulling out his two fingers to dip them into your fluttering core again.

"Josh," you mewled, squirming when the pads of his fingers played with the cum dripping out from you.

"Shhh," he shushed you softly, taking his fingers to your mouth again, smiling when you sucked them clean diligently. "You're being such a good girl right now. So good for me."

"Babe," you breathed out when you were able to speak again. "God, Joshua," his fingers were inside you again, pushing his cum back into your cunt, massaging your walls in the process.

"Yes, bunny?" he replied when you called his name. "What do you want?"

"More," you mewled pathetically. "Please."

You had realized that his other hand was working on himself, his fist pumping his cock slowly, getting himself hard at the sight of you dripping in cum, tears, drool, legs shaking, asking for more.

Joshua tilted his head slightly to one side. "More?" he smiled cheekily, introducing a third finger inside you.

"Joshua," you whined over the squelching sounds caused by his fingers plunging in and out of you. "Don't tease me."

But he continued pushing his fingers in, the pads of his fingers pressing on your front walls, making you squirm in the bed, a hand scrunching on the covers of your bed.

"Please?" you gasped lewdly. "Please, Josh, you know what I want, please."

Joshua tilted his head back, cocking the studded eyebrow, looking at you with so much awe, smiling mischievously when you started pleading for more. His fist continued pumping on his cock, picking up some speed that made him take a deep breath, resisting his own pleasure to tease you some more.

"Joshua, please!" you whined, trying to resist the intense feeling that his fingers pushing on your wall caused, thinking that he was aiming to get you to tap out.

But you resisted, though, marveling over the controlled movements of his body, how he kept the pace of his hands steady, without pausing to rest.

"God, Joshua!" you yelped loudly when his fingers shifted, pressing on the right spot, causing you to flinch. Your other hand flew to hold onto your bed covers too.

"Yeah? Right there?" he asked, to then bite on his lower lip, watching you as you continued to writhe desperately, moaning for more.

"Please, please," you mewled over and over, now pleading for him to continue massaging on your glorious spot.

Joshua showed you a wolfish grin when you quickly switched your pleas. "You're gonna come, baby?" he purred with a mocking tone. "Aw, over some fingers? And here I thought you were begging to have my cock."

"Josh, please, god, please," you breathed, your jaw going slack when the plunging of his fingers inside you turned more forceful.

You cried out pathetically, screwing your eyes shut to let some tears run down your temples. A spurt of warm liquid came out of you, making you whimper dramatically and open your eyes to see his hand covered in your mess.

"You're making a mess, baby," Joshua sighed in awe while watching you squirt on his hand.

He grabbed his own t-shirt that was discarded on one corner of your bed and gently pressed it against your skin, cleaning all traces of his and your arousal.

"Mmph," you hummed with a sigh, propping up your body with your elbows on your bed. "Joshua, please. Fuck me, pl-please, fuck me."

He tossed the ruined t-shirt to a corner of your bedroom and nodded at the bed. "Move back for me, baby," he instructed, climbing on the bed after you.

His hands reached out to grab your legs by the back of your knees, pulling your body to the middle of the bed with a yank. Then Joshua pushed your legs up to your chest, thighs squeezing your tits as he leaned over you.

"Joshua, please, no teasing," you pleaded when he grabbed his cock with one hand, running the tip across your wet folds to see the reaction on your face when he pushed the tip in your entrance slowly.

"Tell me you want it," he said, his studded eyebrow quirking up slightly.

"I want it, Joshua," you replied instantly. "Please, I want it."

"Tell me you want me," he growled, pushing his cock inside you, inch by inch, stuffing you full, but ever so slowly.

"Please!" you gasped, sounding pathetic, your hands searching his shoulders to hold onto him, to urge him completely inside you. "I want you, Joshua, please, please."

Joshua pushed his chest against the back of your thighs, slipping his length inside you to his hilt. His hands shifted on your sides, one to support his own weight and the other to grab your chin, forcing your eyes on him.

"Gah,"you choked up, tears brimming in your eyes when he started pushing his cock inside you, his thrusts fucking you deeper than ever before. "Joshua, Joshua..."

"Yeah, baby. That's my name," he groaned softly, his brow furrowing with some strain. His hand left your chin, his fingers curling on the bed covers, as if he were trying with all of his strength not to lose his control on you.

"Hmmn," you mewled when he instantly reached a spot inside you that made pleasure course through your whole body like a bolt of lightning.

"Do you like how I make you feel?" he said through a raspy breath.

You felt the features of your face contort with the confusion that flashed in your mind, but you nodded nonetheless. "Yeah, it's you, Josh," you mewled. "It's all you."

Joshua kept his thrusts steady, fucking you deep and slowly. His eyes trained on your face as you continued to breath out lewd moans, your mouth parted, eyebrows knitted.

"That's my girl," he praised, a grunt coiling in his throat as his thrusts became more desperate. "My girl."

"Yours," you whispered entrancingly. "I'm yours only, Josh."

"You're mine," he blurted with a ragged breath.

You nodded, unable to utter a word. His thrusts were robbing the air out of you, ramming his cock in, plunging inside you so hard that you were reduced to lewd gasps, hot tears spilling from your eyes.

Joshua screwed his eyes shut for a second, a sharp breath leaving him as his hips slammed into your body, for a second that was all you heard, the sounds of skin slapping together combined with your ragged gasps, the sound of your bed creaking as he kept fucking you into the mattress.

A vein had started to pop on his forehead, his eyes were glistening but he kept them trained on yours. The beautiful features of his face went lax with lust, making him moan, the sound reverberating against your body.

For a second, you just looked at each other, so mad for each other, there were no words either of you could exchange to express what you felt.

"Bunny," he gasped with urgency. "Come for me."

You nodded, a hand searching his face, cupping his chin as you slowly gave into the pleasure blooming inside your body. Joshua turned to kiss the palm of your hand, a gesture so tender that betrayed the animalistic pace to which he was fucking you, making you his.

"I'm coming, 'm—Joshua!" you gasped as you came undone under him, pleasure flooding inside you, taking over every part of your body. Your orgasm hit you so hard you even felt it on your face, tingling in your cheeks, making you close your eyes.

Until you heard a gasp, Joshua came inside you a couple of seconds after you, emptying himself with shallow thrusts. But he didn't relent there, he lowered your legs immediately, clashing his mouth on yours.

Joshua eased his body on top of you, pressing his chest against yours to kiss you deeply, moaning in your mouth as he stopped thrusting his cum inside you sloppily.

Chests heaving, you wrapped him in your arms as he appeared to be blinking slowly, dropping his head in the crook of your neck to come down off his high. His weight was almost crushing you, but you welcomed the pressure from it, the warmth, the scent of his hair and his skin.

You ran the pads of your fingers on the line of his back, feeling him shudder hard but didn't protest against it. "I love you," you whispered.

Joshua didn't respond at first, he continued breathing hard on the curve where your jawline and your neck meet, pressing languid kisses on your skin every two seconds.

His hand crept up from your cheek to the back of your head, then he shifted on top of you to give you a shallow kiss on your lips. "I love you too, bunny."

You were a mess, your skin pricked where your tears had left a trail, your limbs were shaking beneath his weight, you felt a wet tingle where his and your body met.

"You were so good, baby," he whispered, his thumb caressing your cheek as he continued giving you shallow kisses. "Let me take care of you now, okay?" he pulled out of you, drawing a small groan from your mouth.

What happened next was nothing out of routine for you. He started the shower and carried you in bridal style, being that your legs were still shaking badly.

When you got back to the bedroom, he offered himself to towel dry your hair after you put on your bunny pyjamas. So you were sitting on the bed, Joshua was carefully pressing a towel around your hair for some minutes until you looked over your shoulder, and told him to stop.

He looked so tired, but focused on drying your hair, brushing it with his long fingers with so much care, sighing deeply.

"Baby, let's go to sleep, okay?" you offered sweetly.

"Yeah, okay," he whispered, getting up from your bed to discard the towel.

"I threw your t-shirt in the washing machine," you informed him as you crawled beneath the bed covers on your designated side of the bed.

You looked at your boyfriend, crossing the bedroom to slide his body beside yours, immediately wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer to him.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he said tiredly.

You pressed your chest against him, reaching his pouty lips with your own for a tender kiss. "You don't have to thank me for that," you sighed, caressing his cheekbones with your fingertips. "Maybe you should consider leaving some clothes here. If you want to, obviously."

He pulled back slightly, eyeing you with curiosity. "O-okay, I will," he smiled softly.

For a second, you marveled at the sight of him and returned the smile.

"Or you could also consider moving in, when you get back from work. If... you want to," you breathed nervously, your eyes shifting from his face, unable to keep them locked with his.

Joshua didn't reply as fast as you initially thought he would. You almost thought you had said something crazy, something so insanely out of place for you that had left him speechless.

But he just looked at you fondly. A small sigh left him when his smile broadened.

"I'd love that, baby," he replied warmly.

"Okay," you whispered, reaching for his lips again.

What you intended for a sweet and tender kiss turned into a deep, hungry one in a matter of seconds. Joshua grunted in your mouth, a hand cupping your cheek as his tongue lapped on your lower lip, making you sigh a moan.

"Marry me," he blurted, his lips brushing yours in the process.

You laughed lazily in his mouth. "Okay."

"I mean it," he breathed, kissing the apple of your cheek, your eyelid, then an eyebrow, littering kisses all over your face.

"Baby," you protested. "You need to calm down."

"No," he growled, cupping your cheek with one hand. "I'm crazy about you. I want you with me in every way possible."

"Sleep first, baby boy," you teased. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."

Joshua rolled his eyes at your teasing, but he leaned in, giving you a soft kiss before you turned your back to his chest for him to hug you, fitting his body to the shape of yours.

You exhaled, pleased with the warmth exuding from his half naked body cuddling you, an arm over your waist, his breath caressing your neck, until,

"Baby," Joshua called softly, drawing a breath through his nose that denoted how tired he really was. "Would you feel better if you came along with me? On tour?"

"What are you talking about?" you asked, turning over on the bed to look at his face.

Joshua repositioned his head beneath his fist, lying now on his side. His free hand searched yours to lace his fingers with you. "I know with me being so busy, traveling and working, I've been making you feel a little neglected. I don't want to make you feel like this, I..." he looked to the corner of the room mindlessly, gathering his thoughts. "I want you close to me."

There were dark circles under his eyes, his lips were slightly chapped on the corners. But he kept his gaze trained on your face, there was a gentle calmness in him, just as the night he asked you to be his wife.

"We live very different lives, Josh," you whispered carefully, selecting your words. "I can't move around while writing a book. I kind of need stability to work."

"I don't want you to feel lonely," he said, his voice breaking a little when he uttered the last word.

"Well, then we just have to find a way we can make this work," you muttered softly. "I know that you don't want to make me feel neglected but your actions say the opposite."

"I know," he whispered, nodding with his head slowly. "I'm going to fix it, I promise."

"I'm going to need more than that, Josh," you mumbled, a small, cheeky smile appearing on your face.

His big dark eyes looked worried a second before he caught on your playfulness. "Yeah? And what would that be?"

"I'm going to need about a hundred kisses from you," you replied, your heart crushing over the smile that drew on his face.

"Just a hundred?" he taunted, his hand leaving yours and finding the crook of your neck, holding you gently as he leaned over your face to press a soft kiss, after the other, humming happily.

"Maybe two hundred."

"I can do more," he mumbled with a singsong tone.

"Three thousand, then."

Joshua chuckled breathily. "We're from hundreds to thousands that quickly?"

"Only if you want me to forgive you," you replied playfully between his tender kisses that he pressed against your lips.

"What else do you want?" he mumbled, his sweet voice laced with some raspiness.

"I want french toast for breakfast tomorrow," you said after a long moment of thought.

"You got it, Ms. Hong," he replied with a small smile, looking at you with such tenderness that you almost felt like sobbing. "What else?"

"I want you to take me out for a date," you said, now your tone sounding meek and tiny. "You're all talk with the Ms. Hong thing, but haven't taken me on an official date, yet, Mr. Hong."

"I will take you on a date," he muttered between kisses that were turning into more prolonged ones. "On several dates. For the rest of your life."

You cupped his cheek with one hand, and he ceased his shower of kisses to look into your eyes.

"I want you, Joshua," you whispered, trying to convey all your love into a couple of words.

"I want you too, bunny," he replied, his voice rendered into a mere whisper. "Forever."

✮ LONG AUTHOR'S NOTE READ IT 🗣️

hi there my lovelies!! ε(｡•᎑•`)っ♡

WE MADE IT! so let me tell you all a little story. when i started writing city lights, i only intended to write four chapters. but some of you guys convinced me to make it longer and i could write 8 chapters in total!! and i'm so glad i did cause i love writing long fics (as you probably noticed)

chapter 8 got soooo long and i'm sorry for having to split it haha. i guess introducing another main character into the mix does that huh? but there was sooooo many things i left out from this one! maybe i'll write them in the future!

I WILL BE POSTING A FINAL CHAPTER TO CITY LIGHTS SOON, but i would like you to take this chapter as the wrap up for the main story, given that the next chapter will be taking a turn for the dynamic between joshua and bunny. does that make sense? 👀

okay that's it for me. i love you all, drink water, use sunscreen, take your vitamins, your birth control pills or whatever it is that you do, take care of yaselves, i love youuuuuu ◕⩊◕

toodles

part 9

buy me a coffee? 🩵👉🏻👈🏻

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