#I love your fic a whole lot and I thought 'if I'm going to start making rec posts I HAVE to do this one'

[runariya]

I am in love with that Jk merman story of yourssss , you are such a talented author !!!! Keep it up with the good work .

Even i want to request a prompt after that story because i believe only you have the capability to bring that prompt to life (only if you want to write ofcourse, no pressure )

I have never read an ABO fic with enemies to lovers troupe in modern era , I mean just imagine them being the high-school academic rival wolves who can't bear standing eachother

but the moment they turn 18 and their wolves will develop some special senses and powers, they both will realise that they both are actually mates . damnnn now image the strong pull their wolves will feel towards eachother making them go crazy ( their wolves will fall in love with eachother the moment they will recognize eachother as mate and start rebelling their human counterparts and start convincing them to love eachother too .)

and how bad they will try to hide it , deny their wolves forbid their animal counterparts from eachother only to fail miserably in the end because yeah that mate bond will win 🥹

You can choose any BTS member you want because I love and enjoy reading all seven of them so go for any member you want .

Borahae 💜 , no pressure if you are not interested in writing this prompt , I will still adore you and your work 💜 😘 so feel free to reject this request if you want .

part of the prompt game pairing: alpha!Jungkook x omega!female reader genre: fantasy!AU, "E"2L, ABO, high school romance warnings: Jungkook's the most pitiful teenager in all of existence, bad handling of emotions/feelings, a lot of cliques, denial, a little bit of physical fighting, mentions of blood, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 2.754

a/n: tysm for all your compliments, I'm so flattered 🫂 I've tweaked your request a tiny bit to fit the character of OC better and left out marking etc. bc they're still so young 🥹 hope that's okay 💕

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He hates you.

No, he loathes your entire existence.

That Miss Perfect attitude, excelling in everything you do as if it’s the easiest task in the world. You’ve been enemies since high school started—not because either of you declared it so, but because Jungkook simply can’t stand you.

You, on the other hand, are oblivious to this feud, always kind and friendly towards everyone, especially Jungkook. He doesn’t understand how you do it, staying so humble and kind towards him when he takes every opportunity to throw jabs your way, or cause you minor inconveniences, like not holding the door open or letting you trip more times than he can count.

It’s infuriating to watch you be so lovely, especially when you’re not only the smartest but also the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen—something he will never admit. Ever.

“Jungkook?” Your soft, sweet voice startles him. He’s been too busy glaring at the papers scattered before him, his thoughts circling back to you. There's no one else in the lecture hall, and he didn’t even realise you’d entered. You seem to appear out of nowhere, catching him off guard. “I think you dropped this.”

You’re smiling again, that blinding smile of yours, starry eyes sparkling with joy, courteous as ever. He wants to scream. He doesn’t want this treatment from you, not when you’re a little older than him—well, only two months, but still. You’re 18 now, with your wolf, while he’s not, which only deepens his resentment. Once again, you’re ahead, better at something.

The whole school talked about your wolf. Despite your gentle nature, everyone was shocked to learn after your first turn that you’re an omega—one of the very few in the city, the only one known in school. It’s yet another thing Jungkook can’t stand, especially now that everyone, wolf or not, showers you with attention.

“Not mine,” Jungkook lies through his teeth, eyeing the pencil still held out towards him in your small, delicate hand, your nails perfectly manicured.

“Oh…” you murmur, glancing down at the pencil, your brows drawing together in disbelief. Of course, you don’t believe him. “But it’s got your initials, and it’s the one you’re always using.”

Damn you! Of course, you know it’s his favourite. He should’ve seen this coming.

“You think I’d use it after your germs have contaminated it?” Jungkook scoffs.

“That’s not very kind.” You purse your lips, those beautiful lips.

“It’s the truth, ___.”

“Is it okay if I keep it?”

What?! “What?” Jungkook can’t believe his ears. Why would you want to keep it?

“Can I keep your pen? It would be a waste to throw it away, especially when it looks so cool.” You repeat, smiling again.

The pencil is cool, and Jungkook has half a mind to just snatch it back, but he won’t give in. He won’t concede even the smallest defeat.

“I don’t care,” he grumbles. It’s enough to make you burst with joy, your face lighting up as you clutch the pencil to your chest.

“Thanks, Jungkook! You’re so kind!”

“Whatever.”

And ‘whatever’ indeed, because seeing you every day with his pencil, as if it’s the most precious thing in the world, drives him mad. He regrets his decision. He wants it back. It’s his, and what’s his should stay his, but it isn’t—and it makes him livid.

Livid in a way that fuels his pettiness, pushing him to new lengths to make your life difficult. He puts fake spiders in your bag, bumps into you when you’re struggling with your food tray in the canteen. But all of it is in vain, because you’re an omega—everyone’s darling. Every time something inconvenient happens to you, a horde of people rushes to your aid.

This alone is enough to make Jungkook reconsider his actions—or rather, the attention he’s giving you. It’s not like you care. It’s not like you treat him any differently when he’s mean. So what’s the point? At some stage, he’s not even sure why he started all this, why he loathes you so much. If he’s honest, you’ve never actually wronged him. Not once. And now, he’s running out of ways to break you, to show everyone your true colours, because no one can be this perfect, right?

It’s the Friday before his birthday weekend when you approach him again, this time holding a small present. You look up at him as he stands by his locker.

“Hey, Jungkook,” you say softly.

“What do you want?”

“Uhm, I know Sunday’s your 18th birthday and… well, I know you didn’t invite me to your party, which is totally fine! Don’t get me wrong! But I just wanted to give you this because it’s a big birthday, right? So, yeah…”

The tiny gift is wrapped in floral paper with a neatly tied bow, and it looks exactly how he imagined your presents would. It screams 'you', and he’s unsure what to say. He reckons he should just take it and thank you, but the way you’re looking up at him, so small and kind despite knowing you weren’t invited, bothers him like a sock slipping off mid-walk.

Jungkook reluctantly takes the present, ignoring the slight relieved droop of your shoulders and how your warm, soft fingers brushed softly against his.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, his eyes transfixed on the gift.

“Happy birthday, Jungkook. I hope it’ll be everything you wanted and beyond.”

And with that, you turn away, a light spring in your step, your hair moving behind you like a fairy’s wings.

Jungkook doesn’t waste any time after you leave, ripping the gift open in a rush of curiosity, only to freeze, stunned, when a tiny jewellery box is revealed to him. He’s never received any jewellery before, and the fact that it’s a gift from you—a female ‘stranger’, no less—makes his nerve endings prickle with discomfort. The idea of receiving something so personal feels wrong somehow, and yet, despite this strange feeling creeping over him, he still finds himself opening the small red box.

Inside, nestled on an equally red velvet cushion, is a delicate necklace with a pendant that bears his initials. It’s the prettiest necklace he’s ever seen, and the worst part is that he can already picture himself wearing it, the style so perfectly matching his aesthetic that it’s rather unsettling.

He carefully takes the necklace from the box, letting it twist and turn in the sunlight, the metal gleaming ever so mesmerising. But that’s when he notices an engraving on the back of the pendant, and as he peers closer, he fights the urge to rub his eyes.

You’ve had ‘alpha’ engraved onto it. There’s no way anyone could be so bold as to assume another person’s future rank, and yet here you are, making such an assumption about him. Jungkook can’t help but think maybe he was right all along—there’s something strange about you. You’re just a little too perfect, a little too confident in your kindness, a little too bold in your presumptions.

Shaking his head, he lets the necklace fall back into the box, snapping it shut and tossing it carelessly into his locker, fully intending to forget about it sooner or later. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

Saturday night and Sunday come and go in a blur of noise, people, and anticipation. Jungkook has invited practically everyone he knows to his birthday party, hoping that with the arrival of his wolf, his mate might finally be revealed as well. But no one who attends is his mate, and this realisation drags his mood dangerously low. He feels a nagging stab in his chest that he can’t shake, made even heavier by the recurring thought that you, little Miss Perfect, were right all along—Jungkook has become an alpha, just as you predicted. Typical.

What infuriates him even more is that on Monday morning, as you—like always—walk past his locker on your way to the lecture hall, the world seems to slow around him. He watches in disbelief as you suddenly stop, staring at him with wide eyes that shimmer with unshed tears. You look stunned, but more than that, you look happy, as though you’ve just discovered something wonderful. And then, in the midst of his confusion, his inner wolf starts to go wild, barking ‘mate’ over and over again, leaping with excitement inside him.

It should be a moment of joy, a moment where he feels relief and happiness in finally knowing who his mate is. But instead, all Jungkook feels is denial, a desperate refusal to accept the truth, even though, deep down, he knows that you’re everything he ever wanted in a mate.

Still, he turns away from you, ignoring the way your face crumples, the way your bright, hopeful tears turn into ones of sadness, the way you rush past him with your head down, leaving his wolf whimpering in confusion and hurt. Jungkook tries to convince himself that this can’t be real, that it can’t be right, even though every part of him knows it’s exactly what he wanted, what he’s been waiting for.

In the days that follow, he struggles to keep up his usual routine of tormenting you, making snide remarks whenever he gets the chance, but there’s no joy in it anymore. You’re not kind to him the way you used to be, not anymore. You don’t smile at him, don’t even really smile at anyone; instead, you accept his cruelty with a resigned, sad look in your eyes and a forced, brittle smile that never quite reaches your eyes.

Each day, it becomes harder and harder for Jungkook to suppress his wolf, who clearly isn’t on the same page with his cold treatment of you. His wolf growls at him, restless and unhappy, frustrated with the way things are. And Jungkook knows—he understands why—but he feels trapped.

How could he possibly make things right after all he’s done to you? How could he ever redeem himself after letting his bitterness and resentment carry him so far? It doesn’t help that the necklace you gave him is now tucked securely under his shirt, the cool metal pendant resting against his chest, near his heart, multiplying the ache that’s slowly but surely forming there as well. He fiddles with it absentmindedly, the action soothing in a way he can’t explain, though it only makes the guilt grow.

“Jungkook?”

He no longer startles when you appear, his wolf always sensing your presence before you even speak, and your voice has become so quiet, so broken, that it doesn’t have the same effect it once did.

Looking at you now, standing there with your eyes downcast and your voice soft, makes him wish he could take it all back—every harsh word, every petty action. He wishes he could go back and rewrite everything, build something good between you instead of tearing it down. But it’s too late for that, far too late, and he knows it.

When he doesn’t respond, you gather the courage to continue, your voice wavering slightly. “I know it’s random, but I noticed your grades haven’t been as good as they used to be. I know you’re not the kind of person who needs help, but… if there’s anything I can do, just let me know, yeah?”

He wants to snap at you, wants to push you away, but he’s so exhausted—exhausted from pretending he doesn’t care, exhausted from pretending he hates you, and most of all, exhausted from fighting this undeniable bond between you.

Tears prick at his eyes, overwhelming him with guilt, frustration, and something else he can’t quite name. He’s so fed up with himself, so trapped in the mess he’s made that he doesn’t know how to fix it, doesn’t even know where to start.

“Hey… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” you say, your voice tinged with panic now as you shift nervously on the spot, your hands reaching out towards him only to pull back, unsure of what to do. “I’m sorry…”

“Stop!” Jungkook yells, and the sound of his own voice surprises him. You flinch, your entire body recoiling as if he’s physically struck you, your trembling hands clasping tightly in front of you.

“I… I’m sorry.” Your bottom lip quivers, and before Jungkook can say anything else, you turn and run, disappearing down the hall, leaving him standing there with the misery of his guilt pressing down harder than ever.

To think it couldn’t get worse was the stupidest thought Jungkook ever had, because it got worse. Not only did his little outburst suffocate him in guilt, but it also made you avoid him every chance you got. It also didn’t help that most people noticed your changed persona, adding one plus one and recognising Jungkook as the culprit.

He doesn’t fault them, doesn’t really mind the insults coming his way, of being heartless for not wanting a mate like you, when he knows they speak the truth. He doesn’t deserve you, doesn’t deserve someone who he clearly hurts without a true reason.

And the way his inner wolf retreats now from him too, is something he understands as well, because there’s literally nothing he could do to mend what he’s broken.

It’s one afternoon after classes have just finished, and he’s walking out of the school when he notices you cornered against the wall by some other alphas, three in total. Jungkook’s immediately enraged, and it’s then that his wolf rises to full strength, baring his teeth and growling violently.

You’re clearly uncomfortable, clearly scared of what might happen, especially when one of these alphas gets in your face, giving you no way to escape. The last straw for Jungkook is when one runs his filthy finger along your beautiful face.

“Hey!” Jungkook roars, storming towards the alphas who have now turned to laugh in his face. “Back off.”

“What?! She’s fair game.” One mocks, while you’re still pressed against the wall, but your eyes are hopefully locked onto Jungkook.

“I said back off my mate.”

They do, but only to now lunge at Jungkook, thinking that outnumbering him will shoo him away. But it doesn’t—Jungkook won’t let anyone else touch you, his wolf and himself ready to do anything to protect you. And so, Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to take each one of them down.

Driven by adrenaline, he doesn’t notice the sting of the hits he couldn’t block, but it’s nothing compared to the urge to protect you with all he has, all he is.

One after the other falls to the floor, while blood trickles from his split lip, knuckles burning and swollen, his chest still heaving, his wolf still angrily jabbing at the air.

“Jungkook?” His eyes snap up to you when you call for him, and he’s relieved to find no repulsion or fear in them when they lock onto him.

“Are you okay?”

“Thank you,” you nod, and his wolf wags his tail, barking mate, deafening all his other senses.

“Good."

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologising?”

You hesitate, and it makes him feel powerless all over again, but eventually you whisper, “Because I’m not who you wanted.”

It’s broken, it’s defeated, and it’s everything he never wanted his mate to say, because it’s not the truth. Never was. Never will be.

“But you are.” Jungkook tries to smile, despite knowing it’s not hopeful or kind, but sad in all the ways his decisions led it to be.

“I am?”

Seeing your eyes gradually returning to their lively, sparkly self is more than he ever wished to witness, more than he ever should receive, but everything he ever wanted.

“You are. Always were.”

And with that, he opens his arms, stepping over the still-groaning alphas to get closer to you.

With a push off the wall, you sprint into Jungkook’s arms, tears of relief running down your cheeks as he embraces you like you wished he would from the start. But it doesn’t matter, because no time apart could ruin the feeling of him embracing you and your bond.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook mumbles into your hair, inhaling the magnificent scent of you.

“It’s fine, everything’s fine.”

And as you cling to him, your wolves finally as content as you are, you know that you’d never change a thing, because it’s better to be loved willingly than with no other choice.

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

Fic Rec Friday!!

No one said I couldn't do it more than once a day!

Todays other fic rec of the day is *drumroll* ...

problems for our future selves

By: @managician

Fandom: Sonic Prime

Ship: Sonic the Hedgehog/Nine the Fox

Rating: G

Chapters: 1/1

Words: 4,792

Link:

ㅤ

Now, you may already recognize this fic title as I have reblogged the official tumblr posting for this fic before and recommended it in the reblog tags.

While not necessarily tagged as such, I have always found this fic to be a bit of a refreshing character study. The author mixes predictions for what was the upcoming S2, self indulgence, and character interpretation in a fic that puts you inside the head of the character Nine. In this case, it explores his feelings and actions post S1 in regards to his goals, his situations, and how he feels about Sonic.

Even with the context of Sonic Prime S2 fresh on the mind, the fic reads as a plausible follow up to the ending of Season 1 if things were to go a bit differently. The interactions Nine has with Sonic, as well as the confusing nature of his feelings towards him, read very realistic to me in the context of the show, and as moments/topics that could theoretically be explored in such a setting. Nine is angry with Sonic, but also feels giddy when it comes to him. He needs Sonic alive if he is to be free from the council, doesn't care about him otherwise, right? And yet, he knows that he does. He feels that it would be easier for him if he did not care about Sonic, especially after how he's shaken up his life and left him behind, but he cannot help but care. He does not know how to feel about (or rather doesn't know if he can handle) the prospect of Sonic dying or the Chaos Council killing him, and yet also doesn't know what he will do if Sonic does come to save him.

As someone who'd hungered for some good Sonine or Nine character analysis around S2's release, this fic absolutely delivered, and it's one I still come back to and read quite a lot. Likewise, as someone who is aroaspec themselves but adores romance I love Sora's take on Sonine's relationship. Nine's confusion about his feelings come from a place of liking a person even though it feels like you shouldn't after everything, yes. Sure, it also comes from a place of inexperience in relationships. But to me it also depicts Nine in the position of not being able to place a relationship as purely platonic or romantic.

But anyways, I digress. This fic is sweet, a little angsty, and a bit bittersweet, and I'd recommend it for those who like stories regarding people trying to work out what a person means to them, and for those seeking Sonine in a canon context. This read is perfect for people who like to come away from a fic thinking about the implications of the characters' actions and taking another dive into their heads. It is also for those not afraid of reading something bittersweet, as the characters themselves aren't sure how to feel or how the future will turn out.

[purple-babygirl]

yours to hurt, yours to love

Pairing: (dom)!Bucky Barnes x (sub)!f!reader

Word count: 8,050

Summary: They had a deal. She would surrender her control; he would take it. Love had no place in such a relationship, did it?

Warnings: 18+ Content: friends with benefits, blowjobs, lots of cum, cum eating, cum in pussy, unprotected vaginal intercourse (don't do that), mentions of cheating, angst, crying, dom x sub dynamics including a sir kink and the use of puppy as a petname, BDSM features including begging, following orders/instructions, mentions of ropes, being tied/suspended, mentions of edging and overstimulation and the use of toys, ass whipping with a belt, mention and use of a safeword, chocking, two insecure idiots being in love, metal arm kink, fingering, rubbing of cock on pussy, multiple orgasms, aftercare. Let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: this is a self-indulgent fic I wrote simply because I wanted to read and now it's finally done so I'm sharing it with you, babies:"💜💜 I just started at a new job and it's very tiring and energy and time consuming so I thought I'd post something before I get swept up in the real world of numbers and targets and not being broke. I really hope you like this one and I love you all with every bit of me💜

~

As most one-night stands start, they had met at a bar.

She was sitting all alone with her palm hugging a beer bottle, her face carrying the saddest look. She had turned down every guy that had tried to approach her that evening.

Bucky had been watching her all night, lost in deep thought as she barely raised the warming bottle to her lips, the melancholic look marring her features never leaving.

She had only smiled once that night, and it was for Bucky.

She was snapped out of thought when a louder song abruptly came on, startling her back to reality and that was when she saw him.

The most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on had his eyes on her from the other side of the crowded nightclub, and she found herself smiling at him.

He quickly turned his gaze away, suddenly shy that he was staring.

She wanted to ignore the man, telling herself she had a lot on her plate already, that it would likely be a mistake to go talk to him; that she needed to keep her distance from men for a while at least. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t ignore him.

Even with his back to her, his presence was too strong to simply be ignored.

So she disregarded her minds’ screams and went to talk to him.

Bucky almost chocked on his drink when he saw that it was her who had approached him, but he managed to compose himself.

“Were you ever planning on talking to me?” She teased with a smile as she sat down next to him at the bar.

And just like that, they were talking.

They talked about anything and everything, the deepest things as well as the silliest.

She was so easy to be around and she actually made the man laugh.

She had no idea, but Bucky didn’t think he had even cracked a smile in weeks.

Before she could decide what was right and what wasn’t, she had her lips on his, and before he could overthink it, Bucky was taking her back to his place.

It has been a long time since the man had had the chance to like someone, and he liked her even more when she didn’t make him feel bad about himself that night.

The metal arm didn’t faze her.

She didn’t ask intrusive questions or even let her gaze linger. She treated it just like his other arm, wrapping both around her back as she straddled Bucky on his couch, making out with him like she has been waiting for him her whole life.

But that wasn’t the only reason Bucky appreciated her so much that night.

She had gotten on her knees for him, both of them fully naked at that point, her boobs swaying lightly as her hand pumped his hard cock, lubing him up with his pre-cum.

Her hands were magic and he didn’t want to tell her that he was too close to exploding just from her soft hand palming his tip.

She had barely gotten Bucky in her mouth when he had started cumming all over her.

The sight of his fists clutching the couch, mouth open as groans left his chest while copious amounts of cum covered her mouth, chin, neck and boobs had her wetness dripping down her bare thighs.

When he was back on earth again and his vision was no longer black, Bucky started apologizing profusely when he realized what had happened.

He had come way too fast. All over her. Without her getting to finish even once. He didn’t even get to touch her down there.

Bucky thought she was definitely going to leave.

“It’s okay,” she said with a kind smile as her clean hand caressed up and down one of his thighs, “I don’t mind.”

And before Bucky could explain that it has been a long time for him, she was collecting his cum off her skin with her fingers and slipping them into her mouth, maintaining eye contact with the man and almost giving his old heart an attack.

Bucky stared with parted lips, cock already hardening again, as she shut her eyes and moaned over the taste of him.

She had managed to eat every bit of cum that had gotten on her face and neck before Bucky unfroze and lost it.

He grabbed his shirt and hastily wiped her chest clean of his cum before eagerly carrying her to his bed.

He thought her surprised giggle as she called him a “caveman” had to be the sweetest sound he had ever heard until he pushed his cock in her and her wail of his name echoed throughout the quiet bedroom.

Bucky was hooked on the sight of her, the taste of her, the smell of her, and the feel of her.

Her walls were hugging his cock so tight that he thought he wouldn’t be able to get the rest of it inside. Her hands were scratching at his back as she tried to adjust to his size with a silent scream on her face.

“Relax,” Bucky had told her softly.

It was a simple word, but it was the most exhilarating thing when she had immediately listened, her pussy muscles relaxing for him at once, thighs spreading wider to accommodate him better.

Bucky was amazed by her ability to listen to instructions; it awakened an unmatched feeling inside of him.

Once he was buried to the hilt inside of her, Bucky wanted to see what else he could make her do; how much she might obey, so he stayed still.

“I’m ready, you can move.” She had nodded to him, thinking he was waiting on her.

But that wasn’t why Bucky wasn’t moving. He knew she was ready, her juices were ruining his sheets for heaven’s sake.

“I mean, if you ask nicely enough…”

He was just giving it a try, and if she didn’t go along with it he would still give her what she wanted—

“Please,” she begged, eyes pleading as she wiggled her hips, “please fuck me, Bucky.”

Fuck.

Bucky couldn’t think much after that, his body moving of its own volition as he pulled out and slammed back inside her pussy.

It was one thrust. One single thrust had her arching her back and shouting out his name.

He completely broke down, fucking her with abandon, just wanting to hear more of her; feel deeper inside of her.

The bedpost slammed against the wall repeatedly as she screamed with every hit of Bucky’s cock to her g-spot.

The way she was scratching his back, whining, wailing and writhing under him as he pounded her into his bed should’ve and could’ve been enough for Bucky, but he couldn’t help but want more.

“Open your eyes,” he gave her another command, knowing it might be hard for her to manage that one with how deep he was giving it to her.

But her eyes were instantly on him, fighting to stay open as his fat cock filled her up again and again.

“Keep looking at me,” Bucky had told her, his right hand coming up to wrap around her neck.

He was slow and gentle, just waiting for her to stop him or refuse what he was doing.

But she had managed to surprise him again because instead, her hand had come up to his, fully wrapping his palm around her throat before showing Bucky the right amount of pressure to apply.

Fuck, she had to be an angel sent specifically to him from heaven. It seemed like whatever god was up there had finally had mercy on him.

She wasn’t only okay with Bucky’s hand being on her neck, she was showing him how to choke her as his cock fucked her raw within an inch of her life too.

Bucky felt his thrusts stutter as he almost came at the sight of her: mouth open with nothing but his name coming out of it, throat held in his palm and eyes battling to stay open as they rolled back in her head, her pussy chocking his cock.

And when he thought she couldn’t get anymore perfect, she started screaming out a request, “can I please cum? Please, Bucky!”

She was asking his permission to let herself feel the pleasure he was so willingly giving her.

Bucky felt high as he groaned, “cum”, and watched her hand hastily come down to rub her clit once, twice before she fell apart around his cock.

Her thighs involuntarily clasped around Bucky as they shook with the rest of her body, her orgasm hitting her like a thousand trains, making her back bow.

Bucky’s hand tightened around her throat the slightest bit as he felt her pussy shutter around his cock and felt himself get closer to his own release, thrusts becoming erratic.

“Please cum inside me, Bucky. Fill me up with your cum, need it,” she pled and the man could only take so much.

Bucky came and he came hard, proving the cum he had painted her body with earlier to be just a sample of what his cock really had to offer.

When they could both breathe normally again, she found herself in his arms, pitching him an idea, too satisfied and full of cum to stop herself and rethink.

And to her happiness, Bucky actually agreed.

~

When they first started that type of deal, she said she didn’t want a relationship.

Bucky respected that and he was okay with it because although he liked her very much, he knew he wasn’t the relationship type himself. He didn’t believe himself fit for romantic relationships. He thought he was too messed up for such stuff.

And she was just like him.

She didn’t know how to be loved; didn’t know how to receive love. She didn’t think she deserved it. She didn’t think she was worth it. Never thought of herself as beautiful enough or attractive enough or lovable enough.

So the dynamic they came up with was their best option.

They were going to be friends with benefits. Except, the benefits were much more extreme than the usual, vanilla sex that would come to mind. So friends with benefits with a fun twist.

After being manipulated for so long, Bucky wanted nothing but to be in charge of his life, body and mind; to be in a position of power where he had the upper hand.

She, on the other hand, needed her freewill to be taken away from her. Being as responsible as she was in her everyday life, she would get too exhausted; drained. She wanted decisions to be made for her as she only obeyed and conformed. She wanted to be used until her head held no thoughts of her deadlines or tasks.

She wanted choking and spanking and bondage. She wanted domination.

Bucky needed to feel in control, and she needed to give up control.

Take mine, she said, take my control away and make it yours.

It was a perfect match. They had clearly communicated their boundaries, wants and needs. They had established their roles, likes and dislikes. And they had agreed on a few simple rules:

It was strictly sex; only sex.

No kissing on the lips no matter what.

No cuddling afterwards even if aftercare took place.

No strings attached.

The safe word meant they stopped; no questions asked.

Bucky wasn’t exactly on board with number 2 because he knew what her lips felt like on his and he wanted more of that. But she said it would only complicate things; that it might get feelings involved and they couldn’t have that.

So he agreed. He really just wanted her to be as comfortable as possible.

And they had almost done it all in 6 months. She had let Bucky tie her down, spank her, choke her, use toys on her, edge her, overstimulate her, fuck her in every position known to humans and on every service that could take their weight and Bucky’s pace.

But deep down, Bucky knew that she still needed more even if she had claimed otherwise.

He knew that she was frequently going on dates in between their sessions, desperately searching for the one that would manage to sweep her off her feet and magically change the way she looked at herself with his unconditional love.

So when she sat with him that one day and told him she wanted to stop what they were doing because she wanted to commit to her new boyfriend, Bucky wasn’t surprised. He was heartbroken, but not surprised.

And so he let her go.

He didn’t want to. He never wanted to. But Bucky knew that he couldn’t give her what she wanted, and so he was going to let her have it with someone else. He needed her like the air he breathed, but he couldn’t bring himself to stand in her way.

Bucky was addicted to her, yes, but he wasn’t going to be selfish and get in the way of her possible happiness with that new boyfriend whoever he was. He just hoped that that new man deserved her.

~

The real surprise came when Bucky opened his door one day and she was standing there looking like an abandoned puppy three months after their last meeting.

Three months without her that have been torture. Three months during which Bucky couldn’t bear the mere idea of bringing another woman to his bed. Three months of replaying their intense scenes in his head with his hand down his pants.

Oh how he missed seeing her choke on his cock. He missed her begging for him to touch her, to relieve her heavy shoulders of everything they had to carry. He missed seeing her come for him so hard that tears would start rolling down her face.

But now she was here, and she didn’t look okay. And it made Bucky realize that he has mostly missed her being her.

“I need you, Buck,” she whispered and he instantly opened the door wider for her.

Bucky let her inside and she climbed on his lap the second he sat down. He held her in his arms on his couch for as long as she needed, internally aching to know what had gotten her looking so dejected.

He knew it had to do with the new man in her life and he could only calm himself down by imagining his fist slamming against the faceless man’s nose.

“What did he do?” Bucky finally broke the silence, making her pull her face from his neck and look at him.

God, she looked so hurt, so broken.

He wished he could fix it, but how could he when he himself needed fixing?

“If I ask you for a favor, would you do it for me?” Her faint voice asked instead, pulling away from their hug.

“You know I will,” Bucky replied without reluctance.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He would do anything for her. He would kill again for her, burn down whole cities and cross oceans on his bare feet for her if she asked him to.

She got up from Bucky’s lap, getting down on her knees before the couch just like the first night he had brought her home, “I want you to punish me, Bucky.”

“What?”

Where did that come from? She wanted to start a session? Now? In that state?

“I want you to spank me. Punish me.” She repeated calmly.

“Doll, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Bucky tried to remind her, wanting her to know that whatever that man did to ruin his relationship with her wasn’t her fault.

And he wasn’t seriously about to give her a spanking when she looked like that, so small and worn out and wounded.

“Please, Bucky.”

Damn, she begged so sweetly. But he just couldn’t.

Bucky never thought he would say no to a scene with her, especially a passionate one, but he couldn’t hurt her even more than she looked to be hurting.

That was not what they did this for.

“Doll, get up. Sit down and talk to me,” Bucky said softly, trying to lift her up by the shoulders.

“Buck, you said you’d do it.” A sad frown settled upon her delicate face with a look that Bucky knew well.

She was getting more heartbroken at his rejection. She really did want this. She needed it and she could only come to Bucky for it. How could he keep turning her down?

“Okay, doll. How many?” Bucky asked despite himself, rubbing his palms together.

“Not with your hands,” she said with a smile, getting up and walking inside the bedroom to his closet.

Bucky carded a hand through his long hair as he waited for her to come back with whatever item she was choosing, knowing this was going to be the hardest time he has ever had to cause her pain, even if it was pain she wanted and asked for.

“With this.” She left the belt she brought on Bucky’s lap as she got back to her place by his feet.

“Doll, this is the thickest belt I own,” Bucky told her, wanting to intimidate her into changing her mind.

He needed her to change her mind. He couldn’t hit her with that thing. Not today. Probably not ever.

“I know.” She nodded with the same sure smile.

“Doll, why?” Bucky touched her cheek tenderly, desperate to understand.

If she would just talk to him, he would do his best to fix it. He probably couldn’t, but he was ready to try.

“Please, Bucky. For me, I need this.” She, again, avoided answering his questions.

“This is gonna hurt, doll,” Bucky warned, examining the belt in his lap.

Damn, it was heavy.

“I know. That’s the point.” She nodded in acceptance, “I need it to hurt.”

“Doll.”

“C’mon, Buck, we’ve done this before. You’ve had me dangling from your ceiling for god’s sake!”

He remembered that day. It was a week after she had gotten promoted and everything was becoming too much for her.

She had Bucky suspend her upside down from his ceiling as he spanked her rear raw before getting her down and fucking her into oblivion until all she could worry about was if she would be able to take another orgasm.

She looked even sadder today, and she was asking for far less.

Maybe he could give her what she wanted.

“How many?” Bucky asked again with a clenched jaw, seeing that there was no way he was going to change her mind.

“As many as it takes for me to cry,” she replied and her answer sent a pang into Bucky’s chest.

So that was it. She needed to cry and she couldn’t. She just needed to cry; to give release to her pent-up tears.

Bucky knew that crying was something that she struggled with. He knew that one of the things she loved about what they did was the fact that she could cry during it all; during a spanking, an edging or even an intense orgasm.

But couldn’t it be done any other way this time? Maybe he could make her watch a sad movie or something?

“Doll, if it’s about you crying—”

“Bucky, please,” she stopped him, shaking her head with determination, “please give me this. I need it.”

If she could, she would have cried to get him to say yes faster.

Bucky sighed, glancing at her one final time before asking, “do you remember your safe word?”

“Red.” She smiled gratefully, adrenaline already pumping through her blood in anticipation.

Bucky slipped the hairband on his wrist down to his fingers, pulling his hair in a low bun before taking his shirt off, leaving himself in his white tank top.

Keeping his eyes on hers, he ordered: “strip and get on the bed, puppy. You know your position.”

“Thank you, Bucky.” She jumped up, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“What was that?” Bucky’s tone was deeper and his eyes darker.

It has started.

“Thank you, sir,” she quickly corrected herself.

“Go.”

One nod of his head and she was running to the bedroom to do as she was told.

As she took her clothes off, folding them piece by piece and leaving them on the chair in the corner of Bucky’s bedroom, he was outside readying himself for what he was about to do to her.

Bucky had pledged months ago that he would give her anything she needed or wanted during their sessions.

Leaving her fulfilled made him feel fulfilled and the first time he had his bare cock in her, Bucky knew he was wrapped around her littlest finger. It seemed like he was the one in control of those meet ups but control was actually always in her hands.

Now, if what she needed was a spanking to make her cry, Bucky knew how to give it to her, but he didn’t want to. He knew this belt was going to hurt a lot and he wished she would’ve chosen something less bad.

But a deal was a deal and he couldn’t back out now that he knew she was waiting naked on his bed.

She heard Bucky’s heavy steps coming closer and tried to regulate her breathing, reminding herself that she wanted this, that she begged for this, that she deserved this.

She trusted Bucky with her life, not just her body. She knew he was going to stop the minute she said her safe word and that made her a little calmer.

“You ready, puppy?” Bucky asked, gliding the tip of the belt across her bare ass from one cheek to the other.

She shivered, fixing her gaze on Bucky’s bedpost as she whispered, “yes, sir.”

And just like that came the first spank.

But it didn’t hurt, not like she had expected, not at all.

Bucky was going easy on her; too easy.

She didn’t like it.

“Harder, please,” she begged, lowering her head and sticking her ass out.

“Doll—”

“Bucky, please, you promised,” she pled, her voice thick with frustration at her inability to get what she needed from the one person who could give it to her.

Another spank came, a little stronger than the first, but still not enough.

“Did your arm get rusty in those three months?” She threw angrily, raising her eyes to glare at Bucky, “hit me like a man!”

Bucky knew she was just trying to rile him up, make him angry enough so that he would actually hurt her and even though he didn’t want to, he decided he would finally give her what she came for.

“Fine,” Bucky growled, pushing her face into his pillows by the hair and she immediately gave him a full view of her lower half, ass in the air and thighs spread.

He wasn’t going to be able to look at her face as he hurt her this time.

Bucky took a deep breath before finally giving her a real whip and she gasped at the force of it, “is that what you wanted, puppy?”

“Getting close,” she moaned, her words muffled into the pillows as she wiggled her ass for him.

Another similar spank hit her and then another and another until suddenly her body was getting hotter and her butt sorer.

She needed more. Just a little more to break the dam and get suffocating thoughts and burning tears out.

“More, please, sir,” she begged, voice so desperate that it had Bucky swallowing.

He gave an experimental whip on her thighs and she let out a startled scream.

“What’s your color?” Bucky asked at once, hesitant that he might have actually hurt her.

“Green.” Came her reply as she looked up to Bucky, “green, sir, please.”

She was begging for more of this.

Bucky recomposed himself and spanked her thighs with the belt again and she wailed out a “yes, thank you, sir!”, urging him on.

For the first time ever, however, Bucky was not enjoying this. He was not enjoying causing her pain and he was not enjoying knowing that he was supposed to make her cry by the end of it all.

His whips got faster and harder as his thoughts ran wild with worry, just wanting to get this over with as her moans and cries egged him on.

“Color?”

“Green!” She would answer every time he checked in with her.

Pictures of her boyfriend in bed with another woman flashed throw her mind and she stuck her ass out more, hiding her ashamed face in Bucky’s pillows. He let her touch him the way only she was supposed to touch him. He made her shout out in pleasure the way she never did with him. He made her scream his name; the name that was supposed to only roll off her tongue during intimate times.

Her mind kept replaying it all, making her squirm and stick her butt out further. She wanted it all to stop.

She needed this. She deserved this. She was stupid.

“Thank you, sir,” she muttered, a lump finally forming in her throat.

It seemed like whatever had happened this time, had been so bad that the normal amount of whips weren’t enough to get her mind off of it. She was still her, well out of sub space and still very much aware of the ache in her heart.

She needed that ache to move somewhere else, preferably to her ass.

“More, sir, please.”

Bucky’s shoulder started to slightly ache as he kept whipping her, again and again, just wanting it to be over so he could comfort her after as he heard her sniffles, and finally, with a particularly harsh spank on her lower thighs she screamed out, “red!”.

Bucky’s arm stopped immediately, dropping the belt on the floor as he listened as her soft cries get louder.

She burrowed her face in his pillow and let it all out, sobs wracking her entire body as she cried her bleeding heart out.

“Doll,” he whispered, regret filling him at the sight of her body trembling with each wail she let out of her chest.

He looked at her lower body and her ass and thighs were a crime scene, her skin painted in angry red welts all over.

“Please, leave me alone, Buck,” she wept, her face still hidden in his pillow.

“Let me take care of you, doll—”

“No, no. Just leave me,” she pleaded without turning to him.

“At least let me put something on your skin—”

“Please just leave me alone. Please, Bucky,” she sobbed harder, her fingers clutching the side of the pillow as she let her tears flow.

Bucky reluctantly left the room, giving her the space she asked for as guilt ate away at his heart.

He shouldn’t have listened to her. He shouldn’t have done that to her.

It was only when he sat down on the couch outside that he had realized how hard he had actually whipped her. His right shoulder ached, a few strands of his hair were out of place and sweat had forced by his hairline. All the realization did was make him feel more terrible about himself.

He knew he has done it before so many times, but this time was different.

She came to him hurt emotionally and instead of helping her feel better, he ended up hurting her physically too.

She did ask for it, but he could have said no. He could’ve insisted on not doing it.

The sound of her cries seemed never-ending and was absolutely heart-wrenching to listen to. Bucky could all but cover his ears to prevent it from reaching him as he beat himself up for causing it all again and again.

She winced as she sat up on the messy bed, hand on her naked chest as she tried to calm herself down, still hiccupping while her cries slowed down.

God, she had needed this so bad. She had needed it for days and she was so grateful for Bucky for giving it to her.

Being able to cry and let everything out was a blessing that people didn’t appreciate enough; one she was kind of deprived of and had to do a lot to get to enjoy.

When her heartbeat was somewhat slower and her tears have ceased, she slowly pulled herself down the bed and on her wobbly feet.

She looked out to the living room from the bedroom door to see Bucky back on the couch, leaning forward with his head in his hands and she knew he was blaming himself.

So she wiped her tears as much as she could and went back inside. She opened the drawer she knew too well and pulled out the Calendula cream Bucky had bought specifically for her.

She carefully walked to Bucky. She didn’t want him to feel guilty so she made sure not to wince as she took her steps.

She had wanted this. She had asked for it because she had needed it and he only helped her. She wasn’t going to let him berate himself for that.

She left the cream on the coffee table and gently removed Bucky’s hands from his face, guiding him to rest his back on the couch so she could sit herself back across his lap.

Bucky stopped her, standing up to take his pants off so that the material wouldn’t rub against her sensitive skin.

She smiled, her heart lurching at his gentleness and thoughtfulness.

He let her manipulate him into position, closely watching her red-rimmed eyes and swollen nose and lips as she made herself as comfortable as possible on his lap, the new lashes covering her behind out of his sight for now.

Bucky hugged her close, his hands stroking up and down her bare back as she pushed her nose in its place in the crook of his neck, “thank you.” She breathed gratefully.

Bucky only patted her back, pulling her closer in reply. He knew she meant her thanks, but he was still mad at himself for doing it.

She pulled back and let him take her in for a second before leaning in, making Bucky swallow.

“Now fuck me,” she whispered on his lips, grinding down on his covered cock despite the pain it gave her every time she rubbed her inflamed skin on Bucky’s boxers.

“Doll, I think you’ve had enough for today,” Bucky sighed, softly trying to get her off of him.

“Please, just once. I won’t ask for anything else.” She pleaded, her hands clutching the material of Bucky’s tank top, not wanting to leave his lap.

She didn’t want to be away from him. She just got here.

“Doll, give me the cream so I can take care of you,” he demanded, trying to maintain a stern tone so she would listen.

“You can take care of me this way too!” She whined, needy and desperate as she ground herself harder, smiling when she found him hard beneath her.

“I can’t, doll. I can’t. You’re hurt.” Bucky shook his head, gently pushing her to the side and getting up before she could straddle him again.

“Please, Buck,” she croaked out, on the verge of crying again as she grabbed onto his waist, “please don’t walk away.”

“Do you promise not to try anything if I sit back down?” He asked although he knew the answer.

“But I need you!” Anguished tears rolled down her flushed cheeks, “just one orgasm. Please, just one.”

Her constant begging was making Bucky’s cock leak inside his briefs, hard as a rock as he tried his best not to give in.

He had missed her so damn much, but this wasn’t right.

“Doll, come on, quit it. You’re hurt—”

“I haven’t cum in three months.” She cut him off, sniffling as more tears left her eyes, “he— he couldn’t— please.” She begged yet again, her hands cravingly clawing at Bucky’s tank top, wanting him to be close again.

“What?!” Bucky sat back down, wiping her tears away as he took her back into his arms.

She nodded in shame as she cast her eyes down, burrowing her face in his shoulder, “he couldn’t make me cum”.

“Not even with his mouth?”

“Especially not with his mouth,” she muttered, hating the memory of a different man touching her.

“And you didn’t get yourself off?”

She shook her head, still embarrassed as she hid from him.

“Why not?!”

“Couldn’t touch myself without your permission.” She looked up to him, her teary eyes sincere.

Bucky let himself just look at her for a beat longer.

She was with another man that she supposedly wanted to be committed to, but she still followed Bucky’s rules during that relationship.

“I can make you cum, doll,” Bucky said, his gaze darkening, “but I have one condition.”

“Anything,” she whispered, desperate for his touch, his lips, his cock.

She had missed Bucky beyond compare.

“Allow me to break a rule.”

“What—”

“I need to kiss you, baby.”

She smiled, her heart relieved despite its fluttering as she answered by pressing her lips to Bucky’s.

He laid her on her back on his couch, careful not to rub himself against her lower region as he devoured her lips. Bucky sighed on her lips, the first taste always the best.

He hasn’t tasted those lips in nine months, since their very first time together. He remembered them tasting of beer back then, but today it was chocolate lacing her tongue.

It was Bucky’s turn to be desperate as he ate up her whimpers, his tongue dancing with hers as he deepened the kiss. He wanted to gobble her up, get as close to her as possible, taste every inch and swallow every whine.

He realized he couldn’t get as close as he wanted without his boxers scratching the welts on her sore skin.

Bucky pulled away for a second, leaving her to chase his mouth as he chuckled.

She whined, making grabby hands at him.

When he was done taking his boxers off, he got back on top of her, tenderly pushing her legs to her chest to keep them from bumping against the couch before slotting himself between her open legs as his mouth found its way back to hers.

“I can’t believe I let you take this away from me for so long,” he groaned, biting down on her lower lip.

She moaned in reply, pushing her hips up so she could get his cock to stroke against her.

She couldn’t believe she had deprived herself of those kisses either because she knew that she had fallen for the man anyways.

One swipe had Bucky hissing as he felt how wet she was under him. He has needed her for so long, not letting himself find any kind of relief with another woman in her absence.

“Do you want my fingers, doll?”

“No, no, gimme your cock, Bucky, please,” she pleaded, squirming on her back on the couch, pushing her hips up.

“I can’t do that, baby. You know it. It would be too much,” he sighed, his thumb stroking her cheek.

“Bucky, please. I can take it. I’ve taken worse!”

“I can’t. I can’t hurt you anymore, doll.” Bucky admitted, his hand sliding her hair behind her ear.

“Bucky,” she whined and his eyes gave her a firm look, making her shut up at once.

“It’s either my fingers or you get nothing, puppy. What do you want?”

“Your fingers, sir,” she replied obediently, pulling her legs further against her chest to give him all the access he would need.

“That’s a good puppy.” Bucky smiled, thumb circling her swollen clit.

“Please,” she breathed, already throwing her head back at the simple touch.

Bucky chuckled, though he was internally fuming at the fact that she was with a ‘man’ who didn’t make her cum for three whole months, “ready for the first one, puppy?”

“Yes, sir.” She nodded quickly.

Bucky carefully slipped two of his metal fingers inside of her dripping cunt, groaning at the tightness he has missed so much, “I know this hand’s your favorite”.

“I thought you said one!” She moaned in surprise, pushing down on his fingers still.

“I meant first orgasm, puppy,” Bucky laughed, scissoring his fingers inside of her, opening her up exactly like he knew she liked.

And when he curled his fingers just right? She was wailing out the yes’s and thank you’s like it was the last time she would ever get fingered in her life.

“Fuck, baby, squeezing my fingers so hard already,” Bucky groaned, the tips of his vibranium fingers nudging her sweet spot with every indulging thrust, massaging and abusing until he saw her thighs quiver with her first orgasm.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she squealed as Bucky let her come down from her high, fingers slowing down their movements without leaving her leaking pussy.

“Thank me when we’re done, doll.” He smirked, twisting his fingers inside of her.

Bucky got them out for a second only to slip back three fingers instead of two, feeling her cunt hungrily swallow them as she cried out at the delicious stretch.

He bit his lip, shaking his head as he got to business, “fuck, I’ve missed you so much”.

~

“How we feeling, puppy?” Bucky asked her as he saw her legs tense again.

“So good, so so good, sir. Thank you,” she sobbed in pleasure, feeling her thighs shake for the fifth time that afternoon.

“You’re such a good puppy, cumming so hard for me,” Bucky groaned, feeling the pull of her pussy as he tried to take his fingers out, moving them on her clit instead, “keep cumming baby”.

“I can’t take anymore. Please, I can’t.” She shook her head as she tried to squirm away from Bucky’s skilled fingers.

“Okay, okay,” Bucky chuckled, raising one hand up in surrender as his other went into his mouth.

She was gasping for air as she let her legs go, grimacing when her ass touched the couch. She raised her thighs back up, opening them when Bucky hovered over her body for another kiss.

His cock swiped against her sensitive pussy, making her clench when she felt how hard he was. Bucky was so hard it must be getting painful by now.

“Bucky, I can do one more,” she said against his lips.

“Oh you getting greedy on me, puppy?” Bucky smiled, instantly complying as he brought his hand down between their bodies.

She shivered at the mere tracing of his fingers on her pussy lips, “not with your fingers.”

“Come on now, baby, I thought we’ve already talked about this,” Bucky said, ready to pull away from her body.

“You don’t have to put it inside.” She held onto his waist with all her might, “just rub it on me. I can take that.”

“Baby,” Bucky hesitated, his resolve getting weaker as he imagined the feeling of her silky, drenched pussy under his cock.

“Please, Bucky, just rub it on my pussy. Use me. Make yourself cum.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Bucky whispered, getting hold of his cock.

He swiped the tip between the lips of her cunt, moaning lewdly at the feeling he had missed for months.

She was so wet, so sensitive and so soft.

Bucky was never one to cum fast; not after his very first time with her. But she looked so good under him, already fucked out of her mind. She felt even better and he could only handle so much.

He couldn’t believe she was going to make him cum this quick just by letting him nudge her pussy with the tip of his cock.

“Fuck, baby, this beautiful pussy’s gonna make me bust and I didn’t even get to fuck her!” Bucky groaned, feeling his abs get taut as he tried to hold off his orgasm for as long as physically possible.

He didn’t know where to look; she looked gorgeous everywhere and it was making it harder for him not to cum right then and then.

“I’m cumming,” she gave a shout before shaking underneath him for the sixth time.

“Fuck, yes, cum for me, doll.” Bucky groaned, squeezing at his base to hold his orgasm off.

“Slip the tip inside me, Buck,” she begged, still catching her breath and writhing underneath him needily as if he hadn’t just given her five mind-blowing orgasms on his fingers.

He shook his head, trying to focus on not cumming.

“Please, Bucky, just the tip.”

“Shit, don’t say stuff like that.” Bucky’s head tipped back as he closed his eyes for a second to keep from staring into her imploring ones.

“Please, Bucky. Give me your cum. I missed being filled up of your cum so much.” She begged further, “I’m clean, I promise.”

“I never doubted you, puppy.” Bucky opened his eyes, pressing his lips to hers at once.

“Then give it to me,” she moaned on his lips, holding his face close to hers by the cheek, “give me all of your cum, Bucky. Fill me up until I’m leaking all over myself and your couch.”

“Fuck, doll, I can’t hold back anymore. You wanna be filled up? I’m gonna fill you up,” he growled, popping the fat tip of his cock inside her pussy.

She arched her back for Bucky, desperate to feel more of him, “thank you.”

She missed this cock stretching her to her limits so bad. She missed its girth and its veins and the hot cum it paints her walls with.

Bucky could all but let go at the first clench of her pussy, feeling his cum shoot inside of her until it had filled her up to the brim.

He watched her sigh in satisfaction, a smile spreading on her sweet face as Bucky’s hot load filled up her pulsating cunt.

Bucky reluctantly slipped out of her, watching his cum leak out of her ruined pussy, “oh thank you, doll.”

She couldn’t keep her thighs off the couch anymore, body limp and exhausted. She hissed once again when her raw skin touched the rough couch but didn’t pull her legs back up.

Bucky sighed, kissing her forehead lovingly before going to the bathroom to get a wet cloth to clean her up.

He tried to be gentle as he moved around her skin, wiping away the cum and the sweat. He went to leave the cloth in the bathroom and when he came back, she was tiredly perching herself on his lap.

Bucky smiled, taking the calendula cream from the coffee table to finally rub some against her marked butt and thighs. Aftercare was the most important part and he wasn’t about to forego it.

“How the hell did he fail at making you cum?” Bucky couldn’t help but ask as his palm rubbed circles on her sore skin.

“I guess it was me and my unorgasmable pussy.” She chuckled, making Bucky even madder at the man.

He had caused her to think there was something wrong with her and her body?

“Seems pretty orgasmable to me, doll. He’s the one with a broken penis.” Bucky grunted, focusing on keeping his touch gentle on her skin.

“Could make the other girl cum just fine, so not that broken.” She mumbled into her forearms as she rested her chin on them, wanting nothing more than to disappear.

“What?”

Now Bucky really was angry.

“He cheated on me.”

Her voice was so sad, so shattered.

“Doll,”

Bucky didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if there was even something to say to make this better.

“Yeah, found them together in his bed and everything. They do try to cover up with the white bed sheet just like the movies.” She chuckled again.

She was making jokes, trying to make light of her pain like she always would, but Bucky wasn’t laughing.

“Doll, I’m so sorry. He’s an asshole.”

“It’s fine, really. Doesn’t come as a surprise to me that I wasn’t enough for him.”

“It isn’t fine and you are enough. You’re everything.”

“Bucky, you don’t have to—”

“Be my girl.”

“What?” Her head whipped back so fast, thinking she must have imagined the words.

“Forget about the rules and the deal and forget about our fears. Be my girl, doll,” Bucky repeated.

“Buck, I—”

“I know I’m messed up beyond repair, but if there’s one thing I can’t mess up, it’s loving you, doll. And if I suck at it, let me die trying my best for you.”

“Why’d you have to go and talk about dying now!” She sat back up, not waiting for her skin to fully absorb the cream as she straddled him again.

Her body was hot all over as she took it his words; words she had imagined him saying while standing alone in the shower so many times before that she’d lost count.

“Be my girl.” Bucky smiled, “let me love you like you deserve, doll.”

“You—”

“Yes. I love you,” Bucky admitted, shrugging, his blunt nails clawing at the small of her back nervously.

“You love me love me?”

“I love you love you.” His palms flattened against the small of her back as he nodded with a bigger smile.

“I love you love you!” She exclaimed angrily, “why didn’t you say anything!” She punched Bucky’s chest.

“Ow!” Bucky laughed, holding her hand midway before she could hit him again, “I didn’t think I deserved you.” He kissed her fist.

The gesture left her quiet as a smile formed on her face despite herself.

She cupped Bucky’s cheek and kissed his lips softly, “you’re an idiot.”

“Still think I don’t deserve you, doll. But I can’t pretend like I’m not madly in love with you anymore.”

He tried to deepen the kiss but she pulled away, shocked.

“Bucky, what are you talking about? If anything, I don’t deserve you!”

“Baby, you deserve the whole world.”

“I don’t want the whole world!” She threw her hands in the air, “just one idiot who would hold me on his lap after a good spanking,” she mumbled shyly, making Bucky laugh.

“This one idiot is all yours if you’d have him, doll.” Bucky’s smile was for once reaching his eyes as he brought her in for another kiss.

“I love you,” she repeated, throwing her body around his, holding him tight, fearing it might be a dream.

“I love you too, baby. I don’t deserve you but fuck I love you so much it keeps me up at night like a teenager,” he confessed in her hair, his big hand pressing her closer to him.

“Stop saying that.” She looked him in the eyes, “you deserve everything good in this whole universe and then some. I just hope I could be enough.”

“Could be enough— doll, you’re enough. You’re just right. The exact amount. You’re it. You’re the best for me and the only one I want.”

She didn’t know what to say to that so she put her lips on Bucky’s again and let the kiss demolish her fears and insecurities.

She was in Bucky’s arms and she was enough. She was safe and loved.

This was Bucky. Bucky, who was never intimidated by her professional success. Bucky, who has met her at her worst. Bucky, who has never done her wrong. Bucky, who has gotten to see the real, raw her and never turned away.

It was in that very moment that she realized that running away from Bucky to find love with other men was the worst crime she had committed against herself because now the mere idea of being out of this man’s arms and heart was too illogical and incredulous to even consider.

“I love you,” Bucky repeated on her lips as they caught their breaths.

And she could see it all in his loving, blue eyes as they adored every inch of her face: she was home and she was never getting lost again.

~

Tag list: @harrysthiccthighss @tinystudentfirepurse @lavendercitizen @tumblin-theworldaway @pretty-pop-princess-hs @lilymurphy03 @idontwannagomrstarkk @glxwingrxse @littlelioncub43 @mathletemadison @canned-rootbear @pandaxnienke @loveisallyouneed1125 @floral-recs @littlemoonkiller @hallecarey1 @vespasianphantom @vicmc624 @winters1917 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @blkmystery @millercontracting @trappedwriter @am-3-thyst @obsessedwithquinn @sydnielauryn @alittlerayof-pitchblack @olipiaa @peterparkersgirl-blog @buckybarnessweetheart @thealyrs @colorfulbluebirdpainter @stuckysgirl27 @ihavetwoholesforareason @princess-bee0 @pastel-noah168 @steeph-aniie @buckitostan @onthr-dream @sapphirebarnes @123iloveyou456 @ciaqui @lindasweetie @justherefortheficandsmut @xxdiaqiaoxx @morgthemagpie @wintrsoldrluvr @goldylions @serendipitouslife90 @sebastians-love @leelee1234love @tiedyedghoulette @saint-marvel @helenaellie @onceithough @raynelbabe @a-very-fictional-girl @justabeluga @lindababe69

[the-boy-meets-evil]

not according to plan | hjs

summary: your ex-fiance is getting married and everyone you know is going to be there. when he calls to ask if you're coming, you accidentally mention a boyfriend. which would be fine, if you weren't very single. thankfully your best friend comes through with the perfect solution when he sets you up with a friend of his. what could possibly go wrong?

pairing: joshua x f.reader genre: fake dating, strangers to friends to ?? | fluff, slight angst, smut rating: explicit, minors DNI word count: ~22.1k notes/warnings: johnny suh as the ex-fiancee (sorry, he's not great in this), other idols born in '95 used as background characters, mentions of past cheating, food & alcohol, lots of "dates", reader is referenced as coming from a rich family, mention of being an escort (minus the sex?) smut warnings: making out, multiple smut scenes (kind of, it could be a continuation), multiple orgasms, teasing, they're both v obsessed with each other's bodies, protected sex, fingering, nipple play, oral sex (f. receiving), scratching/marking, squirting, overstimulation, use of lube, i think that's it (but let me know if it's not)

author's note: this fic is dedicated to the lovely @shuadotcom, i'm so sorry it took me literal months to finish fake dating!joshua but here we are anyway. i'm not sure how this one got so away from me either lmao. banner credit to the beautiful @wongyuseokie who (again) did this very last minute. thank you to @wonwussy & @kwanisms for the mid-fic beta. thank you to @wooahaeproductions, @horanghater, @cheolism, & @hannieween for listening to me talk about this and helping with things like petnames & dates.

taglist at the end (& join my permanent taglist here)

“It’s fine, it’s been years and I’m over it. Plus, I’ve been seeing someone anyway and he’s great. So I wasn’t ignoring your invite,” you say without a second thought. 

It’s just a stream of consciousness. The lie comes flying out of your mouth faster than your brain can process it. That’s exactly what it is, too. A lie. You’re not seeing anyone and haven’t been in a serious relationship since the person on the other end of the call broke your heart. 

“Oh, wow, sorry, I didn’t mean to…well, I didn’t know. My mom didn’t say anything when she said she had spoken to your mom about whether or not you were coming to the wedding,” Johnny says with a little bit of ramble. 

“You know how my mom can be, I haven’t had the chance to tell her yet,” you deflect. 

“I’m happy for you, then,” Johnny says. 

“Thanks, I’m happy for you, too,” you force out. Somehow, it doesn’t sound like the lie you know that it is.

“So, it’s not weird, then? I mean our moms are best friends, so the rest of your family is all going to be there. A lot of your friends will be there. I know you haven’t RSVP’d yet, but…” Johnny starts.

“Nope! Not weird at all,” you utter, hoping that your voice sounds even. “It’d be weirder if I wasn’t there, right?” 

“Probably, yeah,” Johnny says. “That’s great, though. Do you want me to mark you down as a yes? I can even add a plus-one, if you want to bring your partner.” 

“That’s so thoughtful, but I wouldn’t want to put you out. I know how expensive weddings can be,” you say and try to sound sincere.

“No, it’s no issue, actually. We have a few extra seats that we left just in case we forgot someone or didn’t know about someone’s partner,” Johnny presses. “So we’ll see you both there?”

“Yeah, you will,” you hurry out. This conversation needs to be over. 

It’s only an hour after hanging up with your ex-fiancee that your mom calls to tell you she can’t believe she had to hear it from Mrs. Suh that you’re dating someone. Which includes a whole lot of deflecting and promises about when she can meet this mystery man. Another twenty minutes after you hang up with your mom, you get a pointed text from your younger sister. The two of you haven’t ever been all that close, so she shouldn’t be surprised that you haven’t mentioned him. She made her side pretty clear when she maintained her friendship with Johnny’s new fiancée. That new fiancee, a close friend of your sisters, also just so happened to be the girl he cheated on you with. So, she can hardly expect to have a close sister bond. Yet, she seems oddly suspicious that she didn’t know you were seeing someone seriously. 

Your quiet Saturday afternoon turns into a full blown headache all thanks to one call from the asshole that you really thought you left in the past. Of course, now is the perfect time for him to pop back up. Now, when you’re even between any sort of casual sex. Now, when you don’t even have someone that you can call up to pretend to date you. This is going to be one of the worst calls that you have to make when you have to admit you made it all up, that you will absolutely not be showing your face at the wedding, and you will also be changing your name before moving away.

For now, you do the only thing that you can think of doing. You call the only person that can give you any perspective on this whole fucking disaster. 

“Well hello,” your best friend answers. 

“Jeonghan, I fucked up,” you say without preamble. 

“This is gonna be good,” he responds. 

“I just got off the phone with my mom,” you begin.

“What did she want?” he asks, knowing that it won’t be anything good.

“Well, you know, to talk about this new boyfriend of mine,” you continue.

“You haven’t dated anyone in forever,” Jeonghan chuckles. 

“Thank you for that,” you snark. “And then, of course, I get a text from my perfect sister wondering why she’s also just hearing about this boyfriend of mine.” 

“Why do your sister and your mom think you’re dating someone?” Jeonghan asks.

“Oh, well, you know. Johnny called today,” you offer.

“Fuck that guy,” Jeonghan interjects.

“He wanted to know why I hadn’t responded to his wedding invite and assumed it was awkward because I was single, so I told him I was seeing someone,” you finally finish.

“For fuck’s sake,” Jeonghan says into the silence and you can imagine his face.

“Right? My life is a fucking mess and now Johnny thinks that I’m bringing my boyfriend,” you groan.

“I’ll start planning the story for why you suddenly left town,” Jeonghan says. 

“For real, my life is over,” you whine.

“What are you gonna do?” Jeonghan asks softly. 

This is really why you called him. Jeonghan is a shithead, sometimes, and he can be a bit of a chaos demon. He also can be a bit of a schemer, especially when it comes to winning a game. But, he’s unfailingly kind and caring to the people he holds dear. He absolutely hates getting into any kind of real conflict with his friends. There’s that whole side to him that honestly wouldn’t hurt a fly and always has a way to comfort. That’s the side that you get now. 

“I don’t know,” you answer, voice just as quiet. “I’m just…I don’t want to let him win, you know?”

And Jeonghan does know. You’ve been friends since before you started dating Johnny. Even though he never liked him, Jeonghan supported you in your relationship. When Johnny proposed, he called your other friends and set up the best engagement party anyone could ask for. From the outside, nobody would ever know that he hated your partner. Honestly, he’s the best friend anyone in the world could ask for. 

Before he got around to setting up the bridal shower, which he’d been quietly planning for months, your whole world turned upside down. Johnny cheated, had been cheating awhile, actually, and Jeonghan was there to pick up the pieces. Somehow, he was the only one that seemed to make it better, probably because he didn’t want to act like things were okay when they weren’t. It was easy to cry in front of him, easy to be vulnerable, easy to just let the process play out so you could heal. Even though he never liked Johnny, he also didn’t say he told you so. This had never been something that crossed his mind. 

“Okay, you’re gonna hate it, but I have an idea,” Jeonghan says.

“Those are never comforting words coming from you,” slips out of your mouth.

“Usually I’d yell at you, but…” he trails off. 

“I swear, if you’re about to say that we pretend to be dating like some romcom, I will hang up the phone,” you warn.

“First of all, that’s rude, I’m a great boyfriend,” Jeonghan says. 

“I never said you weren’t, Hannie, you know I think you’re gorgeous,” you sigh. 

“That’s true, I am,” Jeonghan says through a laugh.

“But, I also know you remember what an unmitigated disaster it was when we fucked,” you point out, earning an even louder laugh. 

“Wow, and here I thought that it was actually great sex,” he says. 

“I’m not gonna keep stroking your ego, I already admitted you were gorgeous. I don’t need to praise the sex, too,” you declare.

“Stroking my…come on, you’re making it too easy,” Jeonghan points out.

“Funny, because I remember you being the easy one that night,” you say, finally managing to get a shot in.

“I hate you,” Jeonghan snorts. 

“I know,” you answer. “Didn’t you say that you had an idea?” 

Jeonghan clears his throat. “Right, yeah. Well, I know this guy and maybe he can help you out.” 

“What is he, an escort?” you snort out.

“Do you want my help or not?” Jeonghan asks.

“Yoon Jeonghan, are you about to set me up with an escort?” you challenge.

“No, of course not, just trust me,” he says.

Just trust me might be the three most terrifying words that could come out of Jeonghan’s mouth, especially when you’re not usually on the receiving end of his schemes. It’s not like you have much choice, though. The wedding is in six weeks and you have to find a solution, fast. So, what choice do you have other than trusting your best friend? How could this go wrong? 

You still think this is a terrible idea, yet agree to meet Jeonghan’s friend, Joshua, anyway. Apparently, he’s somewhat new to the area, doesn’t know many people, and is incredibly easy to be around. There’s no mention of why Jeonghan thinks he might be willing to pretend to be your boyfriend. A part of you wonders if your friend even told him, but he’s not that cruel. So, whatever the case, Joshua must at least have some idea of what he’s walking into. 

Several days pass between the nightmare of a call from Johnny and you actually meeting Joshua, which only adds to your anxiety about whether or not this is going to work. Johnny is asking for a name for the seating chart and for dinner selections. Your mom wants to know when they’ll be able to meet this new boyfriend before the wedding (because “meeting him for the first time at a wedding is gauche” and we wouldn’t want that). Your sister is convinced that he doesn’t actually exist since you haven’t posted him on social media. That you can at least answer to say that not everyone posts their entire life online like she does. It doesn’t seem to allay her suspicions, though. 

Then, there’s the fact that you’re actually meeting Joshua for the first time at dinner. All you wanted was to go for coffee, yet he insisted. You couldn’t exactly press the point. Not when you’re planning to ask this stranger to pretend to date you just so that you can avoid the embarrassment at your ex’s wedding. On top of that, because Jeonghan really is a demon at his core, you don’t know what Joshua looks like. Don’t know who to look for. Which leads to you doing the only sensible thing and showing up 5 minutes late for dinner, hoping that he’ll already be at the table when you get there.

It works.

When you give the reservation name at the host stand, you’re immediately led back to a table. Without even thinking about it, you smooth your hands down the front of your dress, looking for a small amount of comfort in this situation. It’s not even that you struggle around new people, this is just…well, it’s a lot. It’s out of anyone’s comfort zone. Whatever you’re expecting, it’s not the man sitting at the table the host leads you to. He nearly stops you in your tracks. 

His black hair is perfectly styled down to the pieces on one side that come down over his forehead. The black dress shirt he wears is open at least one button too many, but he makes the exposed chest look work in a way models would envy. Even though his pants are black as well, he makes it look classic and effortless, rather than too dark. That’s all without even acknowledging the soft smile on his face. This man would break a thousand hearts without even saying a damn word. While you’re appreciating him, you miss the way his eyes rake over you appreciatively. Miss the way his eyes trace your curves and the way the dress clings to you. 

In one fluid motion, he’s standing up to greet you, a gentle kiss placed on your cheek. Is it weird if your knees are a little weak? Well, even if it is, there’s nothing you can do. You’re completely captivated. 

“You must be Joshua,” you say. Brilliant, you think. That’s obvious.

“It’s nice to meet you. Jeonghan had nothing but good things to say,” he answers with another smile as he pulls your seat out for you. 

“I feel like he hardly told me about you,” you respond. Joshua raises a perfect eyebrow at that.

“Then why did you agree to go out with me?” Joshua asks. 

“Go out with…is this a date?” The question comes tumbling out. 

Joshua’s eyes widen in genuine confusion. “Is it not?” 

“What, exactly, did Jeonghan say to you?” 

A lot and nothing at all, it turns out. Joshua tells you about how he’s somewhat new to the area, which you knew. About how he met Jeonghan through work, kind of. They work in the same building doing very different things and happened to run into each other getting coffee a handful of times before Jeonghan introduced himself. The two had hung out several times, something Jeonghan had not really mentioned, and gotten to know each other over drinks more than once. The very first time, Jeonghan had mentioned you and Joshua admits immediately being intrigued without pressing for more information. 

In any case, Jeonghan talked about you pretty freely, a fact that’s hardly surprising. Before Joshua texted you, Jeonghan had mentioned, in what Joshua calls an offhand way, that you were sick of dating the same people. According to Joshua, through Jeonghan, you were looking to possibly be set up. (Read: Jeonghan thinks he’s crafty and isn’t going to come out and tell this man what you’re really looking for. Typical Jeonghan, honestly. You know that “offhand comment” was anything but. And you had the audacity to think Jeonghan would have to tell Joshua what he’s getting into. Rookie move.)

Now you’re in a bit of an awkward situation because this man is honestly gorgeous, one of the prettiest humans you’ve ever met. And, already, he seems like he might be sweet with a pretty good sense of humor. It’s just…well, you’re absolutely not looking for a relationship and this is the last person you want to get involved in your mess. Thankfully, you get a moment to catch your breath when someone comes by to take a drink order and suggest an appetizer. It’s just enough time for you to talk yourself into telling Joshua the real story.

To his credit, he only looks mildly surprised as you outline your whole situation, inform him that yes, Jeonghan does know all of this, and clarify why you didn’t actually realize it was a date. It’s hard to miss the way his eyes seem to sparkle a bit when you also admit that he’s absolutely stunning in a way that hurts your feelings. Easier to miss is the way his face barely falls when you say that you’re not actually looking for something right now. Interesting. 

“So that’s the whole thing and now that I’ve embarrassed myself in front of you, I’m sure you’ll understand if we never see each other after tonight,” you finish.

“How am I supposed to go to a wedding as your boyfriend in a matter of weeks if we don’t see each other after tonight?” Joshua wonders.

“I…what?” you sputter out. 

“Well, sure, we need to work out a few details, but I’m game,” Joshua says with a shrug.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m just really confused?” You don’t even have food yet and this is already the most interesting date you’ve been on, possibly ever. 

“I, uh, may have left a part of my past out when I was sharing what Jeonghan knew about me,” Joshua says. “And honestly, I can’t believe I didn’t catch it or that he did this. I’d be mad if I wasn’t so impressed by how crafty it was.” 

“I’m going to need you to connect some dots for me,” you admit. “Oh and also never tell Jeonghan you appreciate him being crafty. His ego is too big as it is.”

“The first time Jeonghan and I hung out, we went out for drinks, got a little wasted, and I told him about how I got through my university studies without any debts,” Joshua says, pausing long enough for someone to set the appetizer down. “He’s observant, Jeonghan, I’ll give him that. He noticed I had designer clothes, shoes, that kind of thing. And he noticed I didn’t pay attention to the prices of the drinks. So I made a vague comment about being lucky to have found a way through my studies without taking out loans.”

“I’m sure he asked you about that, he loves it when he thinks there’s a scheme,” you note with a smile.

“You’re right about that,” Joshua agrees. “So I, well I told him. When I was in school, I met this woman out one night and she paid me to go to events with her. She wanted, and these were her words, ‘someone young and hot’ with her. And the next four years, that’s what I did. I let people pay for me to go to events with them. Never more than that. I was clear that I wasn’t selling sex or anything, just company.” 

You lean back in your seat with an appraising look. “An entrepreneur from the beginning.” 

“Hey, no judgment,” Joshua says. All you can do is smile.

“I’m not judging, that was really smart and you’re obviously attractive enough for it,” you acknowledge.

“Thank you,” Joshua says. It doesn’t have the air of cockiness Jeonghan’s answer would. He actually seems sincere in accepting the compliment. 

“But, I’m still not going to pay you to pretend to be my boyfriend,” you say, even if it’s a bit reluctant. 

“I wasn’t asking you to,” Joshua shrugs. “You don’t have to pay me.”

“Why would you offer to pretend to do something like this? You don’t even know me,” you point out.

“No, I don’t. But, you seem like a good person. And I like Jeonghan, he’s nice…” Joshua says, stopping when you try to cover a scoff. 

“Nice?” you question when you’re caught.

“Wrong word choice,” Joshua dismisses. “He seems like the kind of person that’s a loyal friend, like he would go into battle to protect you. Like someone you can actually trust.”

“He is all of those things, yeah,” you admit.

“And if those things are true, then him holding you out as his best friend means you’re probably all of those things too,” Joshua reasons. 

“I try to be,” you agree. 

“Plus, Jeonghan did mention you had seriously dated someone that was pretty rich, so I figure it’s probably the guy getting married and it’ll be a nice wedding,” Joshua says with a smile. The joke is obvious by the look in his eyes.

“It’s interesting that he mentioned Johnny, that’s my ex, being rich,” you idly comment.

“Is he not?” Joshua wonders.

“Jeonghan is a lot of things, but he’d never lie to his friends,” you answer first. “So, yeah, he is. Well, his family is at least. His mom and mine run a lot of events together, like galas and shit. That’s how we all know each other.”

“Are you rich, too?” Joshua wonders. There’s that little twinkle of something in his eyes again, but there’s also sincerity.

“I’m still not paying you,” you retort.

“Fine,” Joshua agrees. 

You roll your eyes. “Okay, so what’s the plan?” 

There’s a weird world’s colliding feeling to having both Jeonghan and Joshua in your apartment. But, Jeonghan doesn’t like to be left out of things. Once you told him that you and Joshua both knew about his scheming, he offered to help in any way he could. Which is likely just so he’s included. You’ll take what you can get. Now, it means that he and Joshua are sitting on your couch, scrolling through pictures on Joshua’s phone to decide what to include in an instagram post. That’s the first step you and Joshua agreed on. If you’re going to sell this whole fake relationship, then your sister actually is right. There has to be some sort of proof of it online. Which also means that your post has to talk about how you’ve been keeping it quiet and just enjoying getting to know each other without any pressure. Jeonghan takes credit for that, even if you got there on your own. 

“I think I like this one,” Jeonghan says and turns the phone around to show you. 

“Why that one?” you ask. 

“Why not? Don’t you like it?” Joshua worries.

“I don’t know, I feel like my hand is doing something weird,” you point out.

“You look great,” Joshua assures you.

“Oh, ew, you’re not really dating,” Jeonghan complains. 

“You do know you’re going to have to stop saying that, right?” you ask.

“Maybe I didn’t know either,” Jeonghan shrugs.

“No, I’m with her, you’re her best friend and you definitely would’ve known,” Joshua agrees. 

“Why are you on her side already?” Jeonghan whines.

“Because she’s cool and she’s not the one who knew what I did in college and set me up,” Joshua says with a laugh. 

This is how it’s been going for the last hour. You’re not really much for putting a lot of effort into your posts, so this all feels like too much. But, you know that it’s important for it to feel real and it’s important to get it right. You’re honestly pretty happy to just let the guys take the lead and go with the flow of it all. There are going to be plenty of opportunities for you to take the lead. You’re going to take your breaks where you can. 

(That had also meant not putting up too much of a fight when Jeonghan told you to bring multiple outfits with you. Or when you had to change your hairstyle and makeup between the photos so it looked like they hadn’t all been taken the same day. Honestly, this was so much easier for Joshua. Then again, he’s the one doing you a favor. So maybe you can let him have it.)

After you finally get your couple pictures posted, and get a flurry of messages ranging from surprise to congratulations, you move onto preparing Joshua to meet your parents, your sister, and her husband. Jeonghan is actually a lot of help with that because he’s been around them a lot. Well, he’s helpful after he tries to scare Joshua about how intimidating it’s going to be only to give up when Joshua is unbothered. He’s so calm about everything that it’s actually kind of nice to be around. And he has no problem firing back at Jeonghan, which is really fun to watch. 

You go through what your parents are like, what they do both for work and as hobbies. Joshua perks up at the mention of your dad loving music and sometimes spending his weekends just exploring new venues. It seems like there might be more to that, though you don’t press when he waves it off. It’s different when you talk about your sister, two years younger and already married. Not that you’re dying to be married or even care that she got married before you. That’s always seemed like a weird societal expectation, anyway. What does it matter when anyone gets married? If it’s their right person, then it makes sense. You being upset over your failed engagement really doesn’t have anything to do with your sister’s marriage, despite her instance it does. 

It becomes obvious that you’re losing Jeonghan’s attention when you turn down his request to start playing games or watch a movie. It’s not that you don’t want to do those things, it’s just that you have a lot to cover in far less time than you realized. Sure, the wedding is still weeks away. What’s not weeks away is your first dinner with your family. That’s going to be around the corner. The least you could do, you figured, was plan a time before posting pictures on instagram. So, Jeonghan asks if it’s okay to leave and you almost sigh in relief. This will be easier without an extra person.

“Not to pry, but what’s the deal with you and Jeonghan?” Joshua asks when you settle back on the couch with a glass of wine. 

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“I don’t know, I feel like I was picking up on something,” Joshua shrugs.

“We’re really just friends,” you assure him.

“Sometimes those are the best…” Joshua starts.

“Don’t,” you cut off. He worries for a second before he realizes you’re smiling. “We did try. Not so much a try, I guess, but we slept together maybe 6 months after Johnny and I broke it off and it just wasn’t it.” 

“You and him slept together?” Joshua questions.

“Is that weird for you?” you ask.

“No, it’s just interesting that you’re still so close,” Joshua observes.

“I guess,” you say with a shrug. “He’s great, obviously attractive, but we just, I don’t know. I didn’t feel anything. Neither did he. So, staying friends seemed like the right choice.”

“Interesting,” is all Joshua says. “Have you dated anyone seriously since Johnny?” 

“Not that seriously, no,” you admit. “I’ve gone on dates with different people and some of them stuck around for a bit, but nothing serious.” 

“Not finding the right people?” Joshua presses.

“I just haven’t found anyone that made me feel like Johnny did at the beginning or even like I did when he proposed,” you say. 

“I can understand that, even if I don’t really get it. You’re gorgeous, anyone would be lucky,” he says smoothly. You cover a blush with a slight eye roll. 

“I guess that’s why most of my close friends will also believe that I kept a new relationship on the low. They saw me post-Johnny and have seen me try to date,” you share.

“Yeah that’s good for us, at least,” Joshua agrees.

“What about you, though? When was your last relationship?” you ask.

“Ah, well it’s been a little over a year,” Joshua says. 

“Bad ending?” you wonder. You’re not sure why you press him on it.

“It wasn’t great,” Joshua says with a chuckle. “She, uh, well she decided that she just really would rather be with one of my friends than with me.”

“I’m so sorry you went through that,” you say, suddenly sorry.

“No, no, it’s fine,” he says. “She didn’t actually cheat on me, but she had started getting close to him and sharing everything with him.”

“Arguably worse, in my opinion. Emotional cheating is still a thing,” you say, trying to offer comfort. 

“Thank you,” Joshua says. His eyes are soft and full of care. “And, like you, I have dated since then, just nothing worth talking about.” 

It’s an easy transition from that into talking about your backgrounds. Like speed dating, except somehow more intense. You learn Joshua’s birthday, his parents names, that he’s an only child, and where he grew up. Nothing is too small and you joke about taking notes before you actually go to get a notebook. Joshua tells you his favorite color and his favorite food, tells you about his favorite memories, favorite places where he grew up, and favorite places he’s found since moving here. There’s a way that his face lights up when he talks about his friends that’s drawing you in. You tell him the same. That all feels a little surface level, which you point out. If this is going to work, it has to be deeper, more serious. 

That’s when something seems to almost break down. Joshua suggests that you tell each other the deep stuff, the things that you don’t always admit to someone you’re dating. Or, maybe you admit it and don’t get into the reasons why. When Joshua goes first and admits that he’s happiest when he’s playing his guitar, even if nobody else is listening, his whole face changes. It’s like a completely different version of him. He’s got an open face as it is, that hasn’t changed, but you realize maybe he’s a little guarded behind the smile as well. Maybe there really is more depth than he wants anyone to realize. Maybe this is going to be more interesting than you thought.

“Can I hear you play?” you ask. His face is adorable with his eyes full of surprise.

“You want to hear me play?” There’s an emotion you can’t place when he looks at you.

“I love music, too, Joshua,” you say softly. “I’d love to see what you’re passionate about.”

“Oh, well, I usually play at this acoustic night on Thursdays at a coffee shop downtown,” Joshua tells you.

“You do? That’s so cute!” you say before second guessing it. He looks away like he’s a little embarrassed and you worry for a split second.

“I’d love it if you came by,” he says.

“It’s a shame that we can’t say that’s where we met,” you admit.

“Wait, that would be a good idea, actually,” Joshua says and you smile. 

“It would be, but I also know events like that. It’s always a similar crowd so I’m sure someone will know that I’ve never been,” you reason. 

“Fair point,” Joshua concedes. 

“Why don’t we just say we met on a dating app?” you suggest and Joshua pulls up his face. “Okay, I know apps are lame and honestly, I don’t use them much. But, think about it. That’s the perfect reason why we didn’t bring it up until now, we didn’t want to answer the ‘where did you meet’ question by saying an app.” 

“Okay, yeah, I do actually like that because it’s easy and it doesn’t feel like a wild story,” Joshua says. 

“What about your parents?” you ask. “Do we need to make plans to meet them if you’re also posting about me?” 

“We can figure that out, but they live pretty far away so it would probably just be over FaceTime or something,” he says.

“I also understand if you don’t want to do that because we’re just pretending,” you suggest. 

“No, it’d be cool to have you meet them. Even if the relationship isn’t real, I’d like to be friends for real, so that’s not a total lie,” Joshua reasons. 

“I’d like to be friends too,” you agree. “How long have you been living here, now?” 

“Oh, um, like 8 months?” Joshua says like a question.

“I was figuring like a month or two with the way Jeonghan talks about you,” you laugh. 

“You’ve been friends with him for years, you’re not actually surprised,” Joshua points out. 

“Okay so now I guess we have to figure out when we started dating,” you comment.

“And everything else, but we can do it,” Joshua says. 

You’re a little nervous sitting on your couch waiting for Joshua to show up. Even though you offered to pick him up for dinner with your family tonight, he insisted on being the one to drive. Of course he’s right on time, which you’re already realizing is a trait of his. He’s even a gentleman when he opens the door for you, just like he pulled the chair out the first time you met for the date-not-date. As you put your seatbelt on, you notice that there are a few things in the backseat. 

“What’s all that?” you ask as he slides into the driver’s seat. 

“Flowers for your mom, a bottle of scotch for your dad, and a cheese board for your sister because you said they just moved and she likes to host,” Joshua lists off as if it’s nothing.

“You did not have to get things for all of them,” you point out. 

“Of course I did, but I also wanted to. I’m trying to make a good impression,” he says, making your heart a little light.

“That’s so kind,” you whisper out.

“Oh, I thought of something else,” Joshua shifts. You’re worried you made him uncomfortable until he speaks again. “Are you a pet name person in relationships?”

That makes you snort, something that would embarrass you in any other situation. It’s not the first time he’s heard it, though. “That depends on what you want to call me.”

“That’s a dangerous way to say that,” Joshua answers. His eyes are still on the road, yet you don’t miss the way he reacts.

“I don’t like overly cutesy names,” you say to diffuse a little bit of the moment. “Like, I don’t know, if you want to call me sugarplum or honeybunch or something like that, please don’t.”

“You’re just giving me ideas to take away my fun,” he pouts.

“Well, what were you thinking of calling me? Or are you even a pet name person?” you ask.

“I do like them,” Joshua says. “I’m not sure that I have a go-to or anything. For you, I might say angel or possibly darling.”

“I think I prefer angel, if I’m allowed to pick,” you say after a moment.

“Of course,” Joshua replies. Studying his face, you’re looking for a hint of mocking or insincerity, but there’s nothing to find. This is just him.

“Do you want me to use a pet name for you?” you wonder.

“I’d happily take one, no pressure, though,” he says. 

“I’ll have to think about it,” you tell him. “Something generic like babe doesn’t feel right.”

“Are you saying I’m special?” Now you can hear the light teasing in his voice. 

“I take it back, any more compliments are going to go to your head,” you huff out. 

As you get closer to your parents’ house, you start to bounce your knee with an excess of nervous energy. It’s not until Joshua reaches a hand out to take one of yours that you’re even sure you’re doing it. There’s something calming about it, though. Nothing about him reaching out feels like he’s trying to stop you, just show that you’re not alone in this. Which is more than welcome. The last person you brought to meet your parents was Johnny. Given how that ended and why Joshua is around in the first place, it’s not exactly the most comforting thought.

Once you pull up to their house, you take a deep breath. It’s only to settle your rising nerves, but it also serves to give Joshua enough time to come and open your door. Even though you’ve told him that he doesn’t need to be this sweet, he insists. Without saying a word, he holds out a hand to help you out of the car. Instead of dropping your hand once you’re out, he uses it to pull you into him and wraps his arms around you. There’s this immediate sense of comfort, like you have actually been dating for months. You inhale his cologne without meaning to, something warm and woodsy. 

“It’s going to be fine, parents love me,” he assures you when you pull away.

“I don’t doubt that,” you say, releasing the breath you were holding and your tension with it. 

“So come on, my little granola wrapper, let’s go,” Joshua says as he lets you go to get the gifts out of his backseat. 

It takes you a full few seconds to register what came out of his mouth. “I’m sorry, what did you just call me?” 

“Is that not the one?” he asks, eyes alight with some kind of mischief. 

“I’m not going to encourage this,” you huff.

“Whatever you say, jellybean,” he throws out casually. 

The second you step into the house, you see exactly what Joshua means. Your mother is fawning over him in a matter of seconds, your father is making plans to show him his records, your sister’s husband is asking when they can go out for drinks, and your sister even holds back the snark. All during the course of the pre-dinner drinks and largely, you think, due to the gifts that Joshua brought. He had a reason for the meaning behind the type of flowers for your mother, a favorite musician who swore by the scotch for your dad, and even bought the cheese board from a small business that customized things. 

Dinner comes along and you still feel like you’ve barely said anything with Joshua masterfully steering the conversation. He even makes it sound good that you met on an app, with his improvised story of wanting to meet people in a new city. According to him, he wasn’t expecting to meet someone like you and was done for the second he saw you sitting at dinner. It’s something real, that you met him for dinner the first time at a fancy downtown restaurant. And you realize you never actually asked what his impression was that first night. More than once, you catch yourself watching his profile as he talks to one of your family members. Everything about him is at ease and you wonder if it really is all fake. Not that you think anything about him is disingenuous, he’s just really good at making people like him. 

The only hiccup doesn’t come until your mother is pulling out dessert. According to your sister, she’s got an excellent pie in the refrigerator that you simply have to try. You’re about to say something when Joshua beats you to it. 

“I don’t think my little sugarplum likes fruit pies, but it sounds amazing and I’d love a piece,” Joshua interjects smoothly. 

Your sister nearly spits out her drink, whether it’s at the nickname or him speaking up for you, you’re not sure. In any other situation, you would scold him for the name, but you’re a little stunned he remembers you don’t like pie. It came up once in a rapid fire of likes and dislikes. 

“You’re right, she doesn’t,” your sister agrees. “I’d almost forgotten.” 

(That’s when you’re sure it was another of your sister’s tests. Trying to catch you in some kind of lie about your relationship. But, it doesn’t work and you feel a little victorious for that.)

The doorbell rings through the house and you look to your mother, silently asking if she’s expecting someone. It’s unusual for them to have company calling this late on a Friday night. It’s usually reserved for dinners with friends or family or galas. Unsurprisingly, your mother doesn’t seem to know who it could be, but disappears to answer the door all the same. When a voice drifts through from the hallway, you freeze on the spot.

“I really just came by to drop that off for my mom, I didn’t realize it was so late. I’d hate to intrude on dessert,” the guest says. 

“Nonsense, you’re not interrupting,” your mother insists. 

“I saw an unfamiliar car, so I figured you might have guests,” he says as they come through the doorway into the living area. 

Your heart stutters a little in your chest, feels heavier for seeing him. Somehow he looks taller and broader than the last time you saw him. He’s wearing his hair shorter and he looks more mature, somehow, like he’s seen so much more of the world than when you were together. Which is probably true, if you think about it. It’s been a couple years and that means he’s had more time working with his father. 

“That would be my car,” Joshua says, getting to his feet immediately and extending his hand. “I’m Joshua.” 

“Johnny,” he answers and shakes Joshua’s hand. Yet, his face looks a little tense and his eyes mostly stay on you. 

“It’s just family,” your mother shares, though Johnny can obviously see that himself, “since our darling daughter finally brought Joshua around to meet us.” 

“I’m glad she did, dinner was wonderful and the company was even better,” Joshua says with a smile at your mother. She nearly blushes at his compliment. 

“Oh, hush,” your mother says with a wave of her hand. “I was just getting some pie if you’d like to stay for a piece, Johnny. Although, I’d hate to keep you from home.”

Joshua sits back down next to you, a little closer than is strictly necessary, and puts his arm along the back of the couch behind you. You feel safe pressed up against his side like that. Johnny clears his throat when he looks away from the pair of you. “Gabby has been out of town all week, actually, so I’m going back to an empty home anyway. I’d love to stay for a piece of your famous cherry pie.” 

“Great!” your mother says and disappears off into the kitchen. 

“What’s got Gabby away?” your sister asks. 

“Just a conference,” Johnny answers. “There was a final banquet tonight and she’ll be home tomorrow.” 

“She’s busy, away this week, bachelorette next weekend,” she says offhand. 

“Keeping tabs on when everything is?” you ask of your sister. She looks at you like you’re crazy and Johnny looks awkward.

“No, I was invited to it,” your sister answers evenly. 

Before you can even answer, Joshua is speaking up. Probably sensing your discomfort. After all, you hadn’t gotten to tell him that Johnny’s fiance is friends with your younger sister. They had gone to school together and been close. Stealing her sister’s fiancée doesn’t seem to have impacted the friendship. 

“You must be excited with the big day getting so close,” Joshua says. He moves his arm from behind you so that he can take your hand on your thigh. It makes you look down at your hands before glancing at him, only to find his gaze on you already. It also means you miss the way Johnny follows the movement. 

“Uh, yeah, I mean, I’m definitely excited. It’s just been a lot of planning,” Johnny says. 

“I bet,” Joshua says. “Thank you so much for inviting me, I know how stressful changes can be.” 

“It’s no problem, I’m happy you’ll both be there,” Johnny says. 

With almost a practiced subtlety, Joshua squeezes your hand. There’s so much in that one movement. A reassurance, a reminder to breathe, a reminder that he’s there, a promise that everything is going to be okay. Your heart hurts seeing Johnny sitting in the living room so casually as if nothing happened, but it doesn’t hurt as much as you expected. Maybe that has something to do with this impossibly kind, completely idiotic person next to you. You also can’t help the way your gaze lands on him. Just in profile, at first, before he senses your look and turns to you with a dazzling smile. It’s like there’s nobody else in the world but the two of you.

The conversation shifts slightly when your mother comes back in with a tray full of pie slices and your father comes back with whatever record he was looking for to show Joshua. Just like that, you survive your first in-person interaction with Johnny. Actually come out of it feeling like you might be able to handle this. The smile you send Joshua while he’s eating his pie is so fond that you’re not even sure who you are. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t call me last night,” Jeonghan says in lieu of a hello.

“Hello to you too, I’m good, thanks for asking,” you retort.

“Greetings are for people who remember their best friends, not for people who send a single sentence recap after bringing their fake boyfriend home to meet the family,” Jeonghan states immediately.

“That’s a very long rule,” you note.

“Deserved, though,” Jeonghan says.

“I was tired, Han, it was a long night,” you explain.

“A long night where your ex showed up,” he reminds you.

“That actually wasn’t so bad,” you admit. “Joshua made it feel pretty easy.”

“Oh did he now?” 

You don’t have to be in the same room as Jeonghan to hear the expression on his face when he says that. “It was just easy, Jeonghan, nothing more than that.”

“What did your parents think?” he asks, switching gears.

“They loved him, like actually loved him. My mom was enamored and kept calling him handsome. My dad was talking about music with him and making plans to go check out some acoustic music venue. Even the ice queen couldn’t find anything to fault him for,” you share.

“She’s less of an ice queen and more of a mean girl and a bitch,” Jeonghan adds.

“You said it,” you mumble.

“I mean, come on, who thinks it’s okay for their friend to sleep with their sister’s fiancé? And then stays friends with the girl?” Jeonghan gets really defensive with this. He would ride for you to the ends of the world, which you do love. Just not today. 

“I don’t wanna relive that whole thing, it’s done and over. Nothing to do now,” you say, weariness seeping into your voice.

“Would you want to do anything about it?” Jeonghan asks.

“What do you mean?” You answer the question with a question.

“Like would you want to go back to when you were with Johnny?” Jeonghan asks.

You think about it for half a second. “No.” 

“That was fast,” Jeonghan comments.

“What’s there to go back to? He made his choice and I’m fine, honestly. It was weird seeing him and hearing him talk about his wedding, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought,” you say.

“Is that because of your Prince Charming?” Your best friend, always doing the most, puts this question into a sing-song voice. 

“He’s not a Prince Charming. You’re so annoying,” you scoff. 

“I don’t know, he sure seems to be saving you,” Jeonghan presses. 

“I can’t with…” you start, trailing off at the knock on your door.

“Who’s there?” Jeonghan asks. 

“No clue,” you answer, getting off your couch to go see. 

“I bet it’s Prince Charming,” Jeonghan laughs out.

“Would you fuck…” you begin as you open the door to find the very subject of your conversation on the other side, “off.”

“I’m right aren’t I?” Jeonghan is nearly shrieking with glee.

“Sorry, gotta go,” you say.

“Oh no, no, no,” Jeonghan tries.

You’re stepping aside to let Joshua into your apartment. “I’ll see you tomorrow for brunch.”

“Let me know if I need to add one more to the reservation,” Jeonghan says. 

“Goodbye,” you say with an eye roll Jeonghan can’t see, but will surely hear. You hang up as soon as he also says goodbye.

“Jeonghan?” Joshua guesses.

“Unfortunately,” you confirm. 

“I hope I wasn’t interrupting,” Joshua says. It’s nothing like when someone says it out of forced courtesy. He actually seems like he’s making sure he’s not intruding. 

“No, not at all, I just wasn’t expecting you,” you admit. 

“Sometimes that’s the best time to come over,” Joshua says with a shrug.

“Does that mean you have a plan?” you wonder.

“Yup,” Joshua says.

“Gonna tell me what it is?” you ask.

“Nope,” he says with a concerning smile, popping the end of nope. “Go put on something comfortable but with layers. And we’re not going hiking or anything like that.” 

An hour later, you’re pulling off the road in an area you’ve never been to, even with as long as you’ve lived here. The views are instantly enough to take your breath away. You can see the whole city below you, all the bustle of traffic and skyscrapers. Somewhere, you know there are people rushing to and fro, too busy to stop and appreciate what’s around them. Straight ahead, you can see the way the low clouds glide around, splitting around the very tops of the buildings. It’s beautiful and it also makes you realize just how small you are. 

While you’ve been appreciating the views in front of you, Joshua has been gathering his supplies from the trunk. By the time you turn around, he’s laying a blanket and basket down on the ground in front of the car. 

“Is this…did you set up a picnic?” you ask.

“I wanted to show you this place and figured some food might be nice,” he says with an easy smile. 

“That’s so sweet,” you say earnestly.

You settle on the blanket next to him and look through the food he’s pulling out. There are some of your favorite things and some things you’re not even sure you’ve seen before. Somehow, though, you feel like they might become some of your new favorites. He even brought plates and he sets about putting one together for you to pick at.

Joshua tells you about how this is his favorite place and he found it completely by accident. He loves being down in the city and around all the people, but there’s something nice about seeing things from this perspective too. It’s like he can just disconnect for a while. Turn off his phone. Read or listen to music. Just be totally alone. It’s how he works through a problem or gets the perspective he needs.

“I can’t believe you’re sharing it with me,” you admit and his eyes light up with his smile.

“I just thought, after last night, you might appreciate having a place to get away from it all,” Joshua says.

You want to say something, anything, really, to acknowledge what Joshua just said. Try to say something. Your throat doesn’t want to cooperate, it seems. Your brain, either. In fact, all you can manage to do is turn away to hide the tears. Joshua is observant, though. He doesn’t say anything, just pulls you into his chest and runs his hand along your back. He quietly soothes you as you cry out a lot of emotions you didn’t even realize you were experiencing. 

And something about him comforting you, this near stranger who doesn’t actually owe you anything, sets you off more. In the early days of your relationship with Johnny, you know it was good. It must have been. Surely, it was more than a relationship between two people who had known each other for years with families that were intertwined. You don’t remember it anymore. Don’t remember him ever holding you like this without even knowing what was wrong. Don’t remember him taking you on a date like this just because he thought you would enjoy it. Since you haven’t seriously dated anyone since the break-up, he also feels like your only frame of reference. That makes you sad for an entirely different reason. Who loses it over someone just being a little kind?

“I’m so sorry,” you finally say when you manage to pull yourself together. 

“For what?” he asks. 

“For just crying like that and being such a mess,” you say. 

Joshua shakes his head. Moves his hand up to your face and waits for confirmation that it’s okay. When you nod, he gently wipes the tears from under your eyes. “You have nothing to apologize for. What you’re going through with your ex, most of us could never even imagine that kind of pain.”

“But still, you barely know me and here you are trying to be kind and all I can do is cry,” you say. 

“First of all, I think last night and the food I put together show I’ve actually learned a lot about you in a short time,” he says and you have to laugh at that. He’s right. “Second, I’m just happy you feel safe enough with me to cry. It’s not healthy to hold all that in. You’re not in this alone.”

That brings you up short more than anything. He’s right, again (an annoying habit, if you’re being honest). You don’t feel any hesitation around him. Nothing to stop you from crying if you feel like crying. That’s unusual, to say the least. Normally, you’ll do anything to avoid anyone seeing you emotional. But, this man you just met is different. He’s safe. You’re not sure how or why, but you know you can trust him. 

“Are you free tomorrow for brunch?” you ask. Joshua gives you a quizzical look for a moment at the sudden topic change. 

“Yeah, why?” he asks. 

“I just need to send one quick text and then I want to do what you said you normally do here. Disconnect from the world and just appreciate the afternoon,” you say and find yourself smiling along with his smile. He really is so beautiful. 

You: add one to the reservation for brunch tomorrow and i’ll call you tonight when i’m home

You switch your phone into Do Not Disturb before the response comes and turn all your attention back to Joshua. 

Over the next couple weeks, Joshua slips seamlessly into your life and your existing friendships. Some of them, like those closest to you that come along to the Sunday brunches, know the whole story. It’s not like they would believe you had kept a relationship secret for that long, anyway. And it’s good to have a few extra sets of eyes and ears helping to sell the story. Other friends get the same story that your family and Johnny got. It’s not that you don’t trust them, you do. It’s more important to keep the circle of people who know the real story as small as possible, though, so that it actually succeeds. All your friends adore him from the second they meet him. The only surprise is how well Jeonghan seems to be adjusting to sharing your time. He wants to give you a hard time, yet he doesn’t. 

You meet all Joshua’s friends and coworkers, too. It feels way easier than it should the first time you join him and his coworkers after work for drinks. They spend most of the time giving Joshua a hard time that he’s kept you to himself for so long. It’s easy to fall into step and you find that you do know him a lot better than you think. So, it’s just as easy for you to jump in when they’re giving him a hard time. He pretends to be annoyed, but you can tell by the way he smiles that he likes it. It’s one of those genuine smiles that makes his eyes bigger and brighter. Everything just feels…easy. Like this whole thing wasn’t actually a bad idea after all. 

Your favorite part might be the first time you got with him to an Open Mic Night and get to see him play. He’s got that easy kind of confidence on the guitar. Like he knows he’s talented, but not in a cocky way. It’s his singing that catches you off guard. His voice moves over the notes with an ease that makes you wonder why this isn’t something he’s doing for a living. He’s got this way of pulling you into songs that you don’t even know. And he’s so kind with the people that show up just to see him play. They all seem just as happy to meet you and know that he’s happy. 

There’s only been one part that’s been difficult. Not difficult, exactly, but not as comfortable as some of the other things. While you and Joshua talked through anything and everything to prepare to start a fake relationship, you covered comfort levels with physical affection. You both say you’re comfortable with physical touch, though he seems to seek it out more than you do. That includes at least some level of PDA as a couple. You’ve never really been one to just randomly make out with a partner in public, but you’ve never been shy about expressing affection either. It was fine, when it was all theoretical. 

In actual practice, it’s been a little more difficult. The first time Joshua had pressed a kiss to the side of your head while you were out with people that didn’t know it was fake caught you off guard. It shouldn’t have, he asked before doing it and you confirmed it was fine. What you hadn’t been entirely prepared for was how it would feel when he did it. Or how it would feel that he was so casual about it, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like it wasn’t making you rethink everything in your life. 

Tonight, you’re hanging out with friends at Hyejin’s house. You and her have been friends since before you even started school. So, she knows what’s really going on with Joshua. Your other friends there, though, are mostly not in on it. Which is fine. You’re shockingly comfortable with the song and dance. 

It’s not actually fine. 

It starts the same as any other time you’ve been out somewhere with him. You’re sitting close together on the couch, thighs pressed together, with his arm behind you along the back of the couch. Periodically, his fingers play with the sleeve of your shirt. It’s an absentminded habit and you’re used to it. He’s usually keeping some sort of contact with you in a very subtle way. You learned right away that he did like physical touch, but it was rarely something obvious. One drink in and his affection got a little more obvious. Arm wrapped firmly around you. More kisses pressed to the side of your head. 

Two drinks in and it changes again. He removes his arm from around you in favor of holding your hand. Playing with your fingers while he’s having other conversations, like he doesn’t even realize. Hand squeezing your thigh. Or tracing patterns into the material of your pants. Head dropping down on your shoulder when he’s not talking to someone else. And it’s definitely not fine. You’re nursing your drink, but even if you weren’t, his constant presence would sober you. Since you’ve just finally finished your first, you think maybe a second is a good idea.

It’s not. Joshua gets another drink, his third, and you decline. Instead, you stick with the water you’ve been drinking since you couldn’t even finish your second. You want to be able to respond, whatever happens. Respond to whatever new form of affection unlocks with this next drink. 

“I hope you stick around, you’re my favorite of the partners that we’ve met,” Mimi announces to Joshua when he plops back down next to you. 

You’re glad that you hadn’t taken a sip because it would’ve come out immediately. Mimi has been a friend for a long time as well, and you love her, but she doesn’t know the truth. 

“Don’t I know it,” Joshua agrees, earning a lot of laughter. 

“Have you met Johnny yet? I know you’re going to the wedding,” Taehyung wonders. 

“Yeah Johnny showed up magically the night I brought him by to meet my parents, sister, and brother-in-law,” you say, regaining some composure. 

“I think you traded up,” Joshua says, eyes laser focused on you. 

You’re not so lucky this time and you just took a sip. You nearly choke. “Do you?”

“Definitely,” Joshua insists. 

“I agree,” Jimin says and Mimi elbows him in the side. “What?”

“You’re going to the wedding,” she says. 

“So? He’s a fucking tool,” Jimin shrugs off. 

“Are you all going, then?” Joshua asks. 

“A good portion of us, yeah,” Hyejin says. “Family connections, you know?” 

“I wasn’t invited,” Mimi pouts. 

“Want to come?” Taehyung asks and Mimi laughs. 

“Tae, my love, you can’t just invite people,” Mimi says and shakes her head. 

“I have a plus-one,” Taehyung says with a shrug. “I think we all knew I wouldn’t make it to the wedding in my relationship. But, Johnny still thinks I’m bringing someone.”

“Damn, okay. I’m in,” Mimi says. 

“I’m not going either, my family ties weren’t enough to get an invite,” Jeonghan says without any sorrow in his eyes. 

“That’s because of what you said to him after the break up,” Hyejin interrupts with a laugh. 

“I don’t remember saying anything that bad,” Jeonghan shrugs, and examines his finger nails to show how little he cares. 

“Remind me to show you what he said some time, it was fucking gold,” Hyejin says to Joshua.

“Do you have it saved?” you ask.

“I should have it framed, honestly,” Hyejin says. “Get you a best friend like Jeonghan, for real, for real.” 

“Hey, that’s my best friend, get your own,” you joke. 

“That’s a shame you won’t be there though, Han, I could’ve used the familiar face,” Joshua says.

“Like you’re going to be paying attention to anyone but your date,” Hyejin teases. 

“Can you blame me? I still can’t believe how lucky I got,” Joshua says without any hint that he’s pretending. It makes your heart skip a couple beats as you try to catch your breath. 

“Ugh, I’m so single,” Mimi whines. 

“Maybe not after the wedding,” Hyejin teases. 

The conversations devolve from there into separate, smaller chats. Joshua is back to tracing patterns into your leg. Without warning, he pops his head up and places a quick peck on your lips before dropping his head onto your shoulder again. He’s so nonchalant about it that you’re not really sure it even happened. You’ve kissed a couple times like that, quick pecks in public. But, it’s always been when you’ve talked about it. It isn’t until you look up to meet Jeonghan’s eyes that you know it all really happened. 

Joshua, unaware that he’s just turned your world a little upside down, moves his head to look at you again. “You’re beautiful, you know.”

It’s barely a whisper and you know he’s not drunk. He’s not sober either, though. And you’ve had drinks around each other before. He’s just never been quite so glued to your side or free with the compliments. You’re also not usually so singularly focused on him. A fact that doesn’t go entirely unnoticed. 

“Thank you,” you whisper back. 

“I’m kinda hungry,” he continues in a bit of a whine. 

“Well you were the one who thought skipping dinner was smart,” you tease him. 

“But my little honeybunch,” he teases back. You snort and miss the way several of your friends watch the interaction because they know how you are about weird pet names. 

“Try again, sweetheart,” you answer. 

“Sweetheart, I like the way that sounds,” he says, distracted. 

“Just a little longer and we can leave and get something to eat,” you say and he sighs. 

“Fine,” he concedes and kisses your cheek, just barely a whisper away from the corner of your mouth. 

About half an hour later, you say your goodbyes. Despite your suggestions, Joshua continued drinking instead of switching to water. It’s as fine as it can be, though. He’s just an affectionate drinker. He wraps an arm around you, slipping a hand into your back pocket so that he can whisper thanks again. You do your best to shrug it off and let him drape his arms around your shoulder instead. 

The car ride is quiet, initially. You pick a playlist that he made for you after you first met. Something he seems to enjoy. You’re nearly back at his place when he says that he doesn’t have anything to eat. But, luckily, there’s a place around the corner that he loves that’s still open. He manages to place an order on the app, gets something for you as well, and pays before getting there. All you have to do is walk in. 

“I hope you’ll come in and eat with me,” he says when you get back into the car. 

You’re not really sure how to tell him that you don’t want to. Not because you don’t want to spend time with him. Or that you don’t appreciate him ordering something he knows you’ll like. No, it’s so much deeper than that. It’s that you don’t know if your heart can handle it. You’ve got a couple more weeks of this and your heart is taking a beating. All of this is fake. It’ll be over after the wedding. But, the compliments don’t feel fake. The kisses don’t feel fake. The affection doesn’t feel fake. Your heart racing is real, oh so real. You don’t need anyone to tell you that you’re in way too deep. 

None of that comes out, though. 

“Sure, sweetheart,” you say and hold your breath for a second. You hadn’t meant to say that when it was just you. 

Joshua smiles over at you. “Really do like that.” 

Does he know what he’s doing to you? Can he hear your heart hammering in your chest? Can he hear your breath catch? Does he know how insanely beautiful he is? Or that he’s all the more beautiful because he’s so unfailingly kind? 

Probably not, because he gets distracted and starts singing along as the song changes. It’s welcome, but also a little devastating. His voice cuts through you in a way you’re still very unprepared to handle.

After another few minutes, you’re at Joshua’s place. He springs back into action and tries to open your door for you, even though you’re the driver. He settles for taking hold of your hand as he walks to his door, only reluctantly dropping it when he gets to the door. 

His apartment is familiar to you, it has to be for this to be believable. So, he sets the food out and you grab plates. You grab a couple waters from the fridge while he takes the food over to the couch, bypassing the table. You sit next to him, leaving enough space between you that you’re not touching. Hoping he doesn’t think anything of it. 

It’s useless, apparently, because he slides over to press into your side.

What’s worse (not that you thought that was possible) is that he picks things off of your plate and gives you food off his plate. Tries to feed it to you, actually, and pouts when you don’t let him. It takes everything in you not to beg him to be gentle on your heart. He doesn’t even seem to realize what he’s doing to you as he smiles and jokes. Doesn’t seem to think twice about playing with your hands or his hand on your leg or any of the things he usually does when you have an audience. There’s nobody here to see and he’s not usually this touchy when you’re alone. Maybe it’s the drinks.

“I like your friends a lot, you know,” he says out of nowhere.

“They like you, too,” you assure him.

“What about you?” he asks.

“I’d assume they like me as well,” you laugh out.

“No, I meant me. Do you like me?” he asks, eyes big and vulnerable.

Please, Joshua, I’m begging you. Be gentle with me, you think so loud you’re worried he might hear.

“I’m actually a little sick of you,” you joke. 

“But, but,” he begins and dramatically throws himself in your lap. 

“You’re the worst,” you say without any bite. Your hands find their way into his hair, softly running through the strands.

“That feels nice,” he says softly. “Can I just stay like this? I’m tired.” 

“Of course,” you whisper.

“You’ll stay with me?” he asks, sounding like he’s about to drift off.

You’re sure he won’t remember any of this. Not because he’s drunk, but he’s on the edges of sleep. So, you answer in a whisper. “Always.” 

Maybe he’s not the one that needs to be careful with your heart. Maybe it’s you that needs to be careful. You know that you could walk away. That you could just remind him that this is all fake and there’s nobody around to see now. That’s not what you do. So, maybe you’re just as much to blame. 

Sunday Joshua: thanks for taking care of me last night Joshua: idk why the drinks hit me so hard Joshua: when did you leave?  Monday Joshua: is everything okay? Did i say something stupid? Tuesday Joshua: i don’t wanna sound clingy but are we still getting together at your place after work?

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you know that you need to respond. You know that what you’re doing isn’t fair to anyone. It’s not like Joshua can somehow read your mind to realize you’re spiraling. It just feels a little paralyzing. This is a weird limbo of knowing you might be in over your head, but still believing this is all fake. 

Jeonghan: hey dummy i know you’re ignoring joshua so i’m coming over tonight  Jeonghan: i told him you’ve been busy at work and i haven’t heard from you either but we have some talking to do

Leave it to Jeonghan. You had almost forgotten, with how well you’ve gotten to know Joshua, that it was Jeonghan who introduced you in the first place. Of course he would text your best friend when he couldn’t get a hold of you. Does that make you feel better? Not really, you think, because it feels like a real relationship in a way. Oh well, you can talk about it with Jeonghan. If he shows up, that is.

And he does, less than an hour later.

“I’m here,” he announces when he comes in the door.

“Thanks for knocking and giving me the chance to pretend I’m not here,” you call back.

“Your car is outside and you have your location turned on,” Jeonghan says. 

“Right,” you answer as he comes through the hall holding a bag from your favorite take out place.

“At least I come bearing gifts,” he says.

“You’re an angel, do you know that?” you ask and reach for the bag.

Jeonghan snorts. “I’m gonna remind you of that the next time you call me a demon.” 

“Well, Lucifer was a fallen angel,” you reason with a shrug. 

“I hate you,” he says.

“I know,” you answer. 

Jeonghan busies himself with taking out the food and making sure you have napkins. Tells you what he wants to drink when you get up to go into the kitchen. Calls for you to grab some utensils as well. By the time you sit back down with him, he’s flipping through a streaming service trying to find something to watch. It’s not at all what you’re expecting and you just let it happen. The two of you have been friends long enough to know you should just let things play out.

With some mindless show on in the background, Jeonghan talks about work and your friends and everything else that’s been going on the past few days. Like it’s been weeks since you last saw him. Mostly, he talks about how Taehyung has been blowing up his phone asking for advice about Mimi, which is actually news to you. Sure, you saw him ask her if she wanted to go with him to the wedding. What you had not expected was for him to actually be interested. Which he is, if his messages to Jeonghan are anything to go by. It’s been everything from advice about talking to her to what kinds of things she might like as a surprise. They would probably be cute, you think. 

“Yeah, well, sometimes feelings catch us off guard,” Jeonghan says when you admit your surprise.

Damn. Did you really walk right into that?

“True,” you admit, knowing that’s the best answer you can give.

“Talk to me,” Jeonghan urges. 

“About what?” you ask to buy more time.

“Joshua,” he says.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you state. That makes him fix you with a look.

“Clearly there is or you wouldn’t be ignoring him,” he says. 

“We’re not really dating so I don’t owe him constant updates. I’m not ignoring him. I just have other shit to do,” you say without looking at him.

“Would you like to be?” he asks. That does make you turn to him.

“Like to be what?” you ask, though you think you know.

“Really dating him,” Jeonghan says.

It’s a crossroads kind of moment. You could say that you don’t want that. That would be a lie, though, and Jeonghan doesn’t like it when you lie. Can always tell the second you say something that’s not true. The truth is that you’ve spent nearly every moment since that stupid night at Hyejin’s place thinking about what you actually feel for your fake boyfriend. 

“I don’t…know,” you say slowly and earn a smile because it’s not a lie.

“I was there the other night too, I saw the way it all played out,” he says.

“I mean, does it matter? This is all fake and soon, it’ll be over,” you say.

“Of course it matters and it’ll be over soon? Please,” Jeonghan scoffs. “I know he’s told you that he wants to keep you in his life after Johnny’s wedding. So, what? You’re just gonna be like okay, that was fun, let’s never talk again?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” you say quietly.

He rolls his eyes. “Try again, buttercup.” 

“It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t like me like that, he’s just nice,” you say, avoidant as ever. 

“He looks at you like he’d give you the moon if you asked for it,” Jeonghan snorts out.

“He’s just nice, Han,” you disagree.

“Maybe,” your closest friend concedes, a rare move for him. It feels weird all the same. “Whatever it is, text him back. He misses you and I don’t want to hear anymore about how he’s worrying he upset you.”

“He’s been worrying that he upset me?” you ask. Your heart constricts at that.

“Yeah, for some reason he actually likes your company,” he says. “Can’t relate.”

You smack Jeonghan on the arm. “Says the man who shows up at my place unannounced when I ignore him for a day.”

“No, I was just bored,” he argued. “And you’re way too stubborn to sort out your shit on your own.”

 “I’m not stubborn, but fine, I’ll text him,” you relent.

“Now,” he says.

“What?”

“Text him now so that I know you actually did it.”

You roll your eyes at him, but pull your phone out anyway. Angling it away from Jeonghan so that he can’t see your screen. He’s such a nosy brat sometimes.

You: hey, i’m sorry. It’s been really busy and i had a lot on my mind You: wanna do something tomorrow?

The response comes right away and you ignore the smug look on Jeonghan’s face as you quickly make plans. If Jeonghan was anyone else, he would probably just let you be since he ultimately got what he wanted. But, he’s not anyone else. And he’s as caring to his friends as he is calculating when he wants something. So, he’s not doing it to be cruel, not at all. He just wants you to consider what you’re actually feeling. 

You’ll never tell Jeonghan how much you appreciate him talking everything through with you. Never tell him how good it feels to get all the thoughts out of your head. To his credit, he’s not smug and he doesn’t tell you that he’s been right about your feelings all along. He just listens, supports you when you need it, and encourages you to keep thinking through everything that’s going on.

As a make-up for slightly ignoring Joshua (over your own internal freak out), you take him to dinner at your favorite restaurant. It’s this tiny little hole-in-the-wall that people seem to walk past. The kind of place where you couldn’t overspend even if you tried because the couple that owned it just wanted to share good food. The kind of place where they know everyone by name. It makes you feel instantly at ease. 

Joshua doesn’t say it, but he also kind of can’t believe you wanted to show him some place that meant so much to you. All he could do was watch, with so much fondness, as you spoke to the couple about everything under the sun. Watch as you turned slightly red when they scolded you for taking so long to bring Joshua by. Smile as you promised the both of you would be back. Despite trying to pay, you beat him to it. Even leaving a massive tip because you insisted the couple had undercharged you. They made a big show of not wanting to take the tip and you only reminded them the cash would stay sitting on the counter. You weren’t taking it back either. 

You don’t really think about it when you take a picture of you and Joshua to upload on Instagram. At least, you try not to. Later, when you’re home and winding down for the night, you pull the picture back up. It’s amazing just how happy both of you look. You don’t need to read the comments to know that you’ve never looked so happy in your life. Every part of you wants to pull back again. It’s overwhelming. But, Jeonghan’s voice plays in your head and instead you push past. Make more plans that could break your heart. You have to just trust that he won’t. 

It isn’t until the weekend that you’re able to see him again because your schedules didn’t quite match up. That doesn’t stop him from calling you at night, though. Insisting that he wants to know how your day was, even if you can only spare a few minutes for a call. (Which never ends up being the case. You fall asleep on the phone with him twice. His voice is just so soothing when it’s all deep and soft.) 

Again, Joshua tells you the date is a surprise. He can be a little bit of a demon, when it suits him. Sure, he likes to pretend he’s not. That he’s above the chaos. Then, he does something like this and he can’t really escape it. But, he’s so sure he knows what you like that he’s positive you’ll enjoy the date. You remember how that chat had gone, too. You were ready to go to sleep, but unable to say goodnight. 

(“I have our next date planned,” Joshua says, voice soft to match the calm of the night.

“What is it?” you wonder.

“A surprise,” he answers.

“What if I don’t like it?” you ask back.

“You will,” he assures you.

“You sure seem to think you know me,” you joke. 

“Yeah, I do. Don’t worry, you’ll like this too,” he says.

There was no point in denying it. That confidence sent a bit of a shiver through you.) 

It turns out that the date is at a winery where you’re painting with wine. You have to ask him to say it again because you’ve only ever heard of wine and paint classes. Painting with wine is entirely new to you. It sounds fun, though, and you know how crafty Joshua can be, have seen all the projects around his apartment. So, even though you’re definitely not that artistic, you’re excited to see this as well. 

Admittedly, by the end of the session, your painting isn’t bad. It was a bit weird to use wine in that way, but they let you drink as well. Which makes it a lot easier to just go along with the idea of painting. Joshua’s painting, on the other hand, is beautiful. Not for the first time, you think his talents might be wasted at an office job. You’ve seen the bracelets he makes and now you’ve seen him paint. You’ve heard him sing and play the guitar. He’s impossibly artistic in a way that should make you jealous. Instead, it just makes you more endeared to him. 

You snap a picture of him and his art when he’s not looking and upload it before he can even realize it. It’s only when a notification goes off on his phone that he realizes. He doesn’t even say anything, just gets a sparkle in his eyes that makes you weary immediately. He’s busy tapping away on his own phone before a notification sounds on yours. Maybe you weren’t the only one to steal a candid shot if the picture of you laughing with a glass of wine in one hand and a paintbrush in the other is anything to go by. It’s the caption that really ruins you, though. Just a simple “think I’m addicted to her light”. It’s so simple and also so much sweeter than yours. You fight through the urge to run away. 

Which lasts until you get home from dinner. It was the perfect date, truly. Joshua always seems to know exactly how to plan out a day so everything works. After sipping wine and painting, he took you to one of his favorite restaurants. Nothing too pretentious, just kind of unassuming. The kind of place where you get good food and even better conversation. It’s (mostly) easy to keep your mind off the way your heart keeps racing.

When you’re back home, you’re not so lucky.

Back home, alone in your apartment, there aren’t any distractions. Nothing to stop your mind from all the ways that it can sabotage your own happiness. Nothing to stop you from thinking about how nobody, not even Johnny, has ever planned out such thoughtful dates for you. Nobody has ever taken the time to really know you like Joshua. Even if you won’t admit it, he knows you better than anyone you’ve ever dated. Which is terrifying, since this is all fake. And he hasn’t even known you that long. 

So, you do the rational thing and you pull back again. Answer his texts so that he doesn’t send Jeonghan over to figure out what’s wrong, but don’t make solid plans. Talk a lot about a work project that you really need to get done ahead of schedule so that you’re not stressing leading up to the wedding. And you throw in some easy suggestions in the meantime so that it still seems like you’re making an effort. 

Lunch on a work day so that it has a set ending time. Which still tugs at your heartstrings a bit because he takes a longer lunch just to meet you closer to where you work. 

An event where your parents purchased a table for charity because he’s in high demand with your family around. And he can’t be as affectionate. 

His Open Mic Nights, but with the excuse that you can’t stay too late because of your project and he should stick around with his friends. You’ll get home safely.

Small little things that keep you around him and keep up your conversations while still giving you time to breathe. You’re sure that you’re pulling it all off. And then, the wedding is around the corner. The finish line is in sight. 

You: I’m not going to the wedding You: you don’t have to come pick me up Joshua: what are you talking about? You: i’m not going Joshua: but it’s literally in a few hours? You: yeah and i don’t wanna go, so you’re off the hook You: thanks for everything, but you don’t have to pretend anymore

Even if you know you’re being a little petulant, you don’t really care. This whole thing was supposed to be about protecting your heart. Protecting your pride. Not showing up to your cheating ex-fiance's wedding alone and looking like some kind of loser. It was not supposed to be about your heart getting clobbered anyway. So, you’re doing the only logical thing you can think of. Ignoring your problems. Avoiding both the wedding and Joshua. What you’re not prepared for, though you should be, is the knock that comes at your door half an hour later. 

Joshua is on the other side of the door and your heart actually stops. He’s got his tux on and his hair styled back off his face. His eyes are soft as they take you in, noting that you have your hair and make up done. Though, you’re still in your sweats. You got at least that far before you decided this was a stupid fucking decision. 

“Can I come in?” he asks when you don’t say anything.

“Sure,” you say and step aside. 

“You look like you’re getting ready,” he comments once he’s inside.

“I was, until I texted you,” you answer. “Speaking of, why are you here?”

“Because we had plans,” he says. 

“Yeah to go see my ex-fiance marry the girl he cheated on me with. Oh, and for you to pretend to be my boyfriend so I didn’t look pathetic,” you say with a huff. 

“You’re not pathetic. He’s an asshole,” Joshua says. He doesn’t swear often, so it catches you a little off guard. 

“Well, whatever, you don’t have to go. So, I’m not really sure why you’re here,” you say. 

“You’re being so cold. What’s going on?” Joshua asks and reaches out to you. Instead, you duck away from his touch. 

“Nothing is going on. It was stupid to care what Johnny thought or to try and save face somehow,” you say. 

“It’s not stupid. He hurt you and you didn’t deserve that,” Joshua urges.

“You really don’t know me that well. Maybe I did deserve it. Maybe I was awful to him and he had no choice,” you say.

“We both know that’s not true,” he says.

“Do we?” you challenge. 

“Yes, we do,” he presses. “There is nothing you could do that justifies cheating instead of just breaking it off. But, I also know you didn’t do anything wrong. Jeonghan and I talked about it.”

“You spoke to Jeonghan about my relationship behind my back?” you question. 

“What is going on? We’ve been hanging out for weeks and getting to know each other. I just wanted to know more about someone I was going to be helping. And I like knowing you,” Joshua says and you have to look away. You don’t need the reminder of how much time you’ve spent with him.

“Yeah, sorry about all that time we wasted. I’ll pay you back for the tux or anything else you had to buy to pretend to date me,” you say and he looks genuinely confused.

“I don’t…want you to pay me back for anything. It wasn’t a waste of time. I did this because I wanted to,” he says.

“Yeah, well, you don’t have to pretend anymore because I’m not going to the stupid fucking wedding. It was a really bad idea in the first place,” you say.

Joshua clenches his jaw and looks away. Like maybe he’s frustrated. “What is going on? Do you still have feelings for him?” 

“For who? Johnny?” you ask, so insanely caught off guard that you forget you’re mad.

“Yes,” Joshua says tightly.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you bark out.

“Well? You’re being really weird and now you don’t want to go to a wedding that we’ve been planning on,” he starts.

“Yeah, which should make you happy, since you don’t have to pretend to be my boyfriend anymore,” you say.

“Because you’re still in love with Johnny,” Joshua finishes like he hadn’t even heard you.

“Oh my god,” you nearly scream. “I’m not fucking in love with Johnny. This isn’t about him.”

“So, you don’t want to go to the wedding and it has nothing to do with him? That doesn’t make any sense,” he says. 

“No, I don’t want to keep doing this,” you say, gesturing between the two of you. “I don’t want to keep pretending to date you when I -”

You clamp your mouth shut. Unable to believe that you almost blurted out how you feel.

“When you what?” he challenges. “What? Is it that bad being around me? Is that it? Are you just sick of me? Ready to toss me aside?”

You laugh bitterly, not even able to appreciate the irony in the situation. “No, Joshua, I don’t want to toss you aside.” 

“Then, what? What am I supposed to think when you’ve been pushing me away for the last couple weeks? And I have to act like I haven’t noticed all the ways you’ve kept me at arm’s length since we went to the winery. Why did you just decide, literally today, that you don’t want to go to the wedding after all?” he asks, rambling. He’s pacing in front of you. “Why are you trying so hard to get rid of me?”

“Because I don’t want to get hurt!” you blurt out. “Because I don’t want to go to my fucking scumbag of an ex’s wedding where everyone is going to be giving me these looks of pity or focusing on my relationship with him when all I want is this.”

“This? What?” he asks, coming to a stop.

“This, Joshua, you and me. Having this just all be pretend is breaking my heart. I can’t keep doing it. It was supposed to keep me from getting my heart broken. It sucks and I hate it and I just wish it wasn’t pretend. I don’t want to go to the wedding and have you be so sweet and kind and caring when I’m going to know it has an expiration date. That it’s all just been for show,” you admit. You turn away, clutching your arms around your center because you’re so tired. And so exposed. So vulnerable. It’s awful.

The tears won’t stop, so you don’t notice how Joshua has closed the space between you until he wraps his arms around you from behind. Pulls you back against his chest and presses a kiss into your hair.

“So, let’s stop saying it’s pretend,” he whispers. 

“What?” you whisper back.

He turns you in his arms so that you’re facing him and gently brushes away the tears. “Let’s stop saying it’s fake. It doesn’t feel fake, does it?”

“No,” is all you can manage.

“So, it’s not fake and we’re not pretending,” he says.

“But,” you start to protest. 

“I knew I was in trouble, really deep trouble, as soon as we left your parents’ house. I was just waiting for you to catch up,” he says as he gently runs a thumb across your cheek to wipe away a tear . Your eyes go wide.

“That was barely a week in,” you say and he just shrugs. “And I’d dumped all my bullshit on you.”

“I think that’s actually what made me like you so much,” he says. “It was supposed to be fake and we were trying to get to know each other well enough to pull it off. But, instead, I just realized you were actually perfect.”

“Perfect? I was broken,” you joke and he shakes his head.

“No, you’ve been hurt. Who hasn’t? You’re also strong, kind, funny, a fiercely loyal friend, and one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met, inside and out,” he says. 

“That’s so, you’re so sweet,” you say and try to hide your face. He doesn’t let you. “You like me?”

“I’ve liked you the whole time. I did think it was a date, after all,” he says. “And do you think I’m that affectionate with everyone?”

“We were pretending,” you argue.

“I wasn’t,” he argues back.

“Our closest friends thought you were,” you disagree.

“And was anyone else there in my apartment when I was still being affectionate?” he asks.

“Well, no, but…” you start.

“I heard you say always,” he tells you.

“You did?” you ask, sure that it’s been your secret this whole time.

“We don’t have to go to the wedding. But, if it’s just because you don’t want this to be over with me, then it’s not going to be over. I’m yours for as long as you want me,” he says so earnestly it nearly makes you blush.

“Careful, you might get sick of me,” you joke.

He puts a finger under your chin so he can look you in the eyes. “I’ll say it again. I’m yours as long as you want me. I won’t get sick of you.” 

“I…” you start and don’t know where to go. So you do the only thing you can think of and kiss him. It’s clear he’s a little caught off guard, but he recovers quickly. His arms wrap around you to hold you tight against him. It’s the first time you’ve really kissed him and you’re so screwed because he really is perfect at this too. 

“So, do I get you for the rest of today?” he asks.

You take in his tuxedo again, for real this time. Appreciating how well it’s tailored and how amazing he looks. With a sigh, you say, “you know, it’s a shame to waste such a nice tux.”

“Are you…I thought we weren’t going,” he stutters.

“I’m probably gonna have to fix my makeup in the car, but why not? I want to show off my super hot and very real boyfriend,” you say and watch him choke on air. 

“You can’t just say…” he starts.

“Damn, sick of me already?” you tease.

“You know I’m not,” he answers and moves to follow you.

“No, no. You don’t get to see me changing. I’ll be back out in a second,” you say. 

You’re in the middle of shimmying into your dress when you realize that you do still have a lot to talk about. A lot to figure out. This whole situation has been unusual, though, so it probably makes sense that there isn’t a template. Once you have your shoes on, you walk back into the living room, prepared to say something, only to find Joshua speechless.

“You look…” he starts.

“You’ve seen the dress already,” you say and smile.

“Not on you. Not in person. You look amazing,” he says and crosses to pull you into his arms. “Are you sure we have to go?”

“Yes,” you say and swat him. “But, I do know we have a lot to talk about.”

“I’m not in a rush,” he says and allows you to step away.

“We might need to be in a bit of a rush,” you say, checking the time and gathering all your things. 

“Let’s go, then,” Joshua says and offers his arm. 

The wedding passes in kind of a blur. In truth, you barely even register Johnny or what he’s doing beyond the actual ceremony. The reception is so massive that it’s easiest just to focus on the people around you. Especially when you’re at a table with your friends. Thankfully, you’re not at a table with your parents or your sister. It does mean, though, that you’re sitting next to Hyejin, who has definitely realized that something shifted between you and Joshua. So, she’s trying to sneak in a question any time she can. Which is hard, given that Joshua is more attached to you than ever. And Hyejin doesn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to you. All you manage to let her know is that it’s real now and that you’ll fill her in after the wedding. (You’re also thankful that people seem to be cooing over Taehyung and Mimi since they’re the shiny new topic.)

It’s also nice to have Joshua there because he’s a built in way to excuse yourself from any conversation that you don’t want to be part of. It’s easy to just say you’re going to go back to the table. Or, in the case of a good song coming on, he’ll be quick to drag you to the dance floor and away from whatever conversation you’re stuck in. He’s a good dancer, too. You don’t miss the way Hyejin catches your eye when the first slow song comes on and he pulls you close to him. But, that’s a conversation for another day. All you wanted was to appreciate the way his hand felt on your lower back or your hand felt in his. 

When it was finally time to leave, Joshua led you out of the event, arm around you to guide you. Neither of you were drunk, but you had still hired someone to take you to and from the wedding anyway. A gift from your parents to appreciate you “doing the right thing” and coming to the wedding. For the sake of the families. It made you roll your eyes at the time, yet you’re thankful now. It would be far better than having to take an Uber or trying to get a room at the hotel (and risking seeing everyone else staying there the next morning). The ride home also gave you the chance to talk. Really talk. Neither of you cared much that someone else was driving (and he had the partition up, anyway), as you talked about your feelings honestly for the first time. 

As it turned out, you had a lot to say. Both of you. You hadn’t been nearly as good at hiding your feelings from Joshua as you had been at hiding them from yourself. He had hoped you were going to admit them to him after that night at his apartment. Instead, you avoided him. Yes, he knew that you had been avoiding him. You also weren’t very good at picking up on the signs he dropped about his feelings for you. He admitted that he could have just said something, but he was trying to be subtle so he didn’t scare you off. Trying to let his actions speak through more affection. You admit you were scared to think it was anything more than it actually was. Scared of your feelings. Scared of getting hurt again. Joshua completely understands that and admits that he’s a little scared, too, because you’re definitely more important to him than he was anticipating. He’s also confident that you can work through it together. It gives you a feeling of hope. Makes everything about you feel lighter. You see that relief reflected in Joshua’s eyes when they scan yours. 

The car pulls to a stop and he gets out first. He holds his hand out to help you out of the car. You’re not really sure what comes over you.

“Come up with me,” you ask, but it’s more of a statement. 

He hesitates, conflicted. “I don’t know if I should.”

“Why?” you ask, clearly confused.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to leave,” he answers and you smile.

“Then stay,” you shrug, “at least for breakfast.” 

Without waiting for him to respond, you turn and head for the front door of the building. It means you miss the way he freezes in place, but you can guess at that by how long it takes before he catches up to you. He’s unusually quiet and still beside you as you go up the elevator and then behind you as you unlock the door. 

“I’m gonna go change,” you announce after you drop your keys by the door. You look back at Joshua, appreciating him in the tuxedo one last time. “I’ve got some clothes in the spare room that should fit. They’re Jeonghan’s ” 

You take the opportunity to breathe for a second, to let it settle in that you asked Joshua to come in with you and stay the night. Then, you set about changing out of your dress. Carefully clean your face free of the make-up. Brush through your hair and twist it back off of your face. Once you’re in comfy clothes and bare faced, you head back out into the living room. It’s odd that you don’t even feel self-conscious about Joshua seeing you like this, you’re instantly comfortable. 

Joshua’s back is to you in the kitchen. When he turns around, you see that he’s put together a little platter of snacks. You also were right, the t-shirt and shorts he picked out seem to fit him well. Jeonghan is a little slighter than Joshua, but he wears most of his clothes on the baggier side. 

“Thanks for the clothes,” he says when you both meet on the couch. “I was worried when you said you had spare clothes they were gonna be from an ex or Johnny or something.” 

Your laugh is sudden and clearly catches Joshua off guard. “I wouldn’t have kept any of Johnny’s clothes. I gave them all to charity.” 

“I’m sure he was thrilled with that,” Joshua laughs.

“They made a killing reselling them,” you laugh in response. “Wanna watch something?”

“Sure, you pick,” he says.

You start clicking through your saved list to find something that the two of you can watch. Once you settle on something, Joshua motions you over. Even if you want to pretend you’re considering it, you can’t. Every part of you wants to be close to him. When you slide over, he pulls you in tighter to his body and you fit like you always belonged there with him. 

If you thought he was physically affectionate when he was pretending, it’s nothing compared to now that he knows you’re both in this. He has one hand running along your arm or the other along your thigh. Sometimes he reaches out to take one of your hands. Other times he presses kisses into your hair. It’s pretty clear right away that he’s not paying much attention to the show. 

If you’re being honest, you’re not really either.

Everything is distracting. The way his fingers on the bare skin of your arm raises goosebumps. The way his kiss in your hair makes your eyes close in appreciation. The way he squeezes your thigh and short circuits your brain. 

You can’t help it. You turn your head so that you can look at him. He caresses your cheek, so gentle. Runs his thumb across your lip. You’re holding your breath, just waiting to see what he’s going to do. When you feel like you’re going to go a little bit insane, his hand moves to the back of your neck and pulls you in. It’s exactly like the first kiss before the wedding. At least, at first. It’s gentle, but full of so much desire. It’s also slow, like there’s no rush to any of it.

The position is really uncomfortable, though. You shift your legs so they’re draped over one of Joshua’s. He doesn’t miss a beat. It just allows him to pull you closer. There’s something incredibly intimate in kissing him like this. There’s this weird contrast of desire and comfort. It’s heated, but also a little lazy. Like you have all the time in the world. Which you do, you think, now that you’re being honest about your feelings.  When Joshua pulls back from the kiss, you chase his lips for a second before realizing that he’s pulled away. The way he looks at you nearly melts you into the couch.

“I don’t want to assume where this is headed, but maybe we should take it to the bedroom?” he asks. It’s cute, the way he’s a little shy. Like you didn’t invite him in to spend the night. Yeah, you’re in way over your head. At least it seems like he might be too. 

You pull your legs back so that you can stand up. His eyes track your movements as you reach your hand back to him. He accepts it without a word and lets you lead him to the bedroom. Even if he’s seen your bedroom before, this feels different. You’re waiting for him to look around, but his eyes are glued on you. Joshua even waits for you to lead him all the way to the bed, so you direct him to sit on the edge. 

Once Joshua is seated, you step between his legs and tilt your head down to kiss him. He wraps his arms around you so that he can pull you against him. There’s barely any space between you. It sends a little bit of a shiver as his hands run up your back and back down. The touch is gentle and caring. Like he’s trying to put everything he feels into it. Something about it just makes you feel so insanely safe. 

He’s the one to break the kiss again, but this time it’s to move back onto the bed and grab your hand to pull you along with him. It’s easy to just follow suit and get comfortable laying next to him, bodies facing each other. The kissing picks up when your lips meet again. Joshua kisses you breathless with a passion you’re eager to explore. One of his hands rests on your hip, casually sliding beneath your shirt and caressing up your side. You press your body further into his and capture his moan with a kiss. It feels like you’re a bit drunk off each other.

When Joshua’s hand moves back down, you take the chance to throw your leg over his hip, allowing you to press further into him and feel how this is turning him on. Part of you knows that he’s still waiting for you to set the pace. Or that he wants things to be a little slower. So, you help him out and roll the two of you over so that you’re straddled on top of him. Putting his hands on your hips, you lean over to kiss him again. In this position, you can also grind into his lap. You delight in how he’s already getting hard beneath you, enjoy the way his hands grip the soft flesh of your hips.

He pulls back and looks at you with blown pupils. “Baby, please don’t tease me.” 

“No silly pet name?” you tease him. 

“Not when you’re getting me this turned on like a horny teenager,” he whines. 

“You mean like this?” you ask, injecting as much innocence as you can when you slowly drag your clothed pussy across his dick again. 

Joshua throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut, and grips you tighter. “Yes.” 

“So you don’t like it?” you ask, grinding a little more. 

“Fuck,” he hisses out. And somehow that’s the thing that almost breaks you. Why is that one swear so hot on his lips? 

Without saying anything, you sit up a little bit, still making sure you’re straddling Joshua, so that you can pull his shirt off him. Your eyes go wide because you’ve never seen him shirtless. You’ve seen him in well fitted suits or shirts, but this is entirely different. His chest looks like it was sculpted by an artist. All your attention is on your fingers running along his chest and you don’t see the way it makes him a little shy. 

His hands reach for your own shirt, playing with the hem like he’s asking permission. So, you move his hands aside and pull it over your head, leaving your skin bare as well. You watch him drink you in, feeling almost empowered by the desire you see in his eyes. He pulls you back towards him so that he can get one of your breasts into his mouth. The way he teases your nipple with his tongue has you clenching around nothing. You can feel how wet it’s making you and try your best not to squirm when he moves from one breast to the other. 

“I need you,” you utter. 

“I need you, too,” he says against your skin. His hips buck up into you almost involuntarily. 

You slide off of him and pull your shorts down and he gasps that you don’t have any underwear on. It isn’t like you were expecting anything, you just wanted to be prepared. While he’s still a little drunk on the sight of you fully naked, you help him discard the rest of his clothing. The sight of his cock springing free, precum leaking out, has you wanting to get your mouth on him. 

But, you’re realizing, what you really want is to feel him inside you. After so much tension and wondering, you just want to have this moment together. You want to be as close as two people can possibly get. You want all the intimacy and to be able to see his face. It’s this thought that pushes you back to the bed to lay with him. 

Joshua repositions and runs a hand down your body. Lets his fingers run along your thighs and tease their way up to gather some of your wetness. Your eyes close as he runs a finger up your slit. It’s such a little amount of contact and it makes you moan anyway. 

“Damn, are you this wet just for me?” he asks and presses a kiss into the first bit of your skin he can reach.

“I want to feel you,” you admit. Joshua makes you press a finger into your pussy, but you stop him. Confusion takes over his features.

“I thought…do you not want this?” he asks. 

“I do, but I want…I want all of you,” you admit. “I want to feel you deep inside of me. I want to be completely ruined by you. I want to come together.” 

“Shit,” he hisses, hand stilling against your body. “On one condition.”

“What’s that?” you ask.

“I want to taste you soon,” he says, pressing a kiss into your shoulder.

The thought of him between your legs makes you shiver. It’s almost enough to forget that you want this first time to be together. “Deal.” 

“Do you have condoms? I wasn’t exactly expecting…” he says, trailing off.

“That drawer,” you say and point. 

He rolls himself off of the bed to open the drawer. You’re not sure why you expect his hands to be a little unsteady when he rips open the wrapper and rolls it onto himself, but he’s so calm. Maybe it’s just you that’s a little nervous. At least, that’s what you think until you catch the look on his face. It has to be the same as yours, naked want mixed with a little bit of uncertainty. Everything else has been so easy with you, what if this is where it goes wrong? 

“Just lay back,” he urges you, voice calming any lingering nerves. His voice drops to a whisper, like the next statement is just for him. “You’re so beautiful, every single inch of you.” 

It makes your heart constrict in a way that you’re not really prepared for. It would be nice if your feelings could stop flooding in all at once like a dam breaking. It’s overwhelming. You do as he says, though, and lean back against the pillow. Joshua gently spreads your legs apart and takes another moment to appreciate you. He can’t seem to help himself from running a finger along your entrance. 

Even though he would fully be within his rights to tease you, he doesn’t. He lines himself up at your entrance and looks to you for final confirmation. All you can manage is a nod. You know he wants to hear you, but you can’t bring yourself to form the words. So, he accepts the nods and slowly presses into you.

“Fuck,” you hiss as you adjust to him. 

“Are you okay?” he worries.

“Feels good,” you say with a slight whine. “It’s just been a bit.” 

He presses the rest of the way into you and then stills so you can get used to him. It’s really overwhelming. Not just because you’re finally feeling him inside of you. More so because he’s looking at you with more adoration than you’ve ever felt in your life. Like this is it for him. Like you’re it for him. It’s too early to be thinking of love, but you really don’t know if anyone has ever loved you so completely. You think he’s probably it for you too. 

Once he finally starts to move, you know it’s going to be over entirely too fast. He starts with slow thrusts, testing what you want. You dig your fingers into his arms as a way to ground yourself. To anchor yourself to him and in the moment. When he picks up the pace, your mind goes entirely blank. It’s just the right speed. While you love the hard and fast fucking, there’s something so much more intimate about this kind of in between speed. 

“God you feel so good,” he whines as he snaps into you again. “So tight and perfect.” 

“You’re so - oh my god,” you moan out, unable to finish the sentence as he hits you just right. 

Joshua moves one of your legs so that it’s over his shoulder and presses further into you, hitting deeper than you were prepared for.

“Fuck, Joshua, holy shit,” you scream out. 

“Love the sound of my name on your lips,” he manages as his thrusts pick up pace. 

You want to respond that you love saying it, want to say anything, but the thrusts are entirely too much. As if it wasn’t already too much, Joshua adjusts again so that he can press his thumb against your clit. He rubs circles in time with his thrusts and you think that you might see stars. You throw your head back, eyes pressed shut.

“Look at me, baby. I wanna see you when you come,” he urges, his own voice sounding ragged. 

Despite wanting to focus on the pressure building between you, you do as he asks. Your eyes meet his and it’s that look that makes that coil snap. You’re coming hard and digging your fingers into whatever you can find to release some of the tension in your body. This might be the best orgasm you’ve had. 

When you come back to this plane, Joshua has stilled inside of you. One of his hands gently caresses your face as he mumbles quiet praises. It’s so impossibly tender.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, you can move,” you assure him.

“Thank fuck,” he mumbles. 

His pace now picks up to something fast and hard with one of his large hands anchoring your thigh to his body. Your hands grip any part of his body that they can reach and you relish the way he hisses when your nails drag patterns down his skin. Marking him so that he belongs to you. Just as you belong so completely to him. 

It seems impossible but you can feel the tension building low in your stomach again. His thrusts are so hard that you feel like his cock might split you open and something about it just works for you. You hadn’t thought anything about him would translate to this kind of hard and fast sex, but it’s somehow better than you could have imagined. With him so focused on chasing his own high, you rub circles on your clit to bring yourself over the edge again. You tumble over the edge for a second time just as Joshua’s thrusts get erratic. You do your best to take over the rhythm before slowing down. 

Joshua collapses on top of you, cock still buried in your pussy, and sighs. His weight on top of you feels like the best security you’ve ever had. Your hands find their way into his hair, gently stroking and scratching his scalp. As he comes back around, he presses his head further into your hand. 

“Hey,” you say when he looks up at you.

“You’re perfect,” he responds and you can’t keep the smile off your face. 

“You were pretty perfect yourself,” you say. 

“Am I too heavy, I could…” he starts and you pull him tighter against you.

“Don’t you dare,” you warn. 

He doesn’t say anything, just nuzzles his face into your neck. But, you know that you can’t stay like this forever. So you don’t protest when he gently pulls himself up and gets out of the bed. You’re right behind him, leading him into the bathroom so that you can get both of you cleaned up. 

After getting cleaned up, dressed, and doing your respective night time routines, you and Joshua are settled back into your bed (on top of a fresh set of sheets). Although you’ve never been much for falling asleep cuddling, you can’t imagine leaving any space between you and him. When he wraps himself around you, all you can do is smile and settle deeper into his perfect chest. Honestly, every inch of this man is perfect and you’d be annoyed if you weren’t so helplessly attached to him. 

And it’s the best sleep you’ve gotten in a long time. You wake up with his chest pressed into your back and his arm still wrapped around you. It sounds like he’s still asleep based on his breathing and so you’re just considering slipping out of the bed. He moves in his sleep and pulls you tighter against him, making you feel that he’s semi-hard again. You press back against him, almost testing if he’s really asleep. 

He’s not. 

Joshua’s hand, already against the skin of your stomach and underneath your shirt, moves further up to your breast. His hand squeezes your breast and then he brushes his thumb over your nipple. Your body responds to his touch embarrassingly fast, which only seems to spur him on. He’s got your nipple between his fingers before you press back into him again, wiggling your ass against his dick without pretending you’re doing otherwise.

“Good morning beautiful,” Joshua says in a raspy voice into your ear. 

The warmth of his breath along with the pressure of him rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger has you suppressing a moan. In the quiet of the morning, he hears it anyway. He removes his hand from your breast and you want to pout at the loss of contact. That is, until his hand works down between your legs, roughly grabbing hold of your pussy through your shorts. He runs his middle finger through your folds, likely feeling the way your shorts are getting soaked through already. 

“Feels like someone might have woken up ready,” he says into your ear, voice sinfully low. His finger is still slowly teasing you through the damn material of your shorts. Somehow that makes it feel hotter. 

“I wonder why,” you retort, undermined by the way you squirm under his touch. 

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks and stops his movements. 

Your hand immediately moves to his. To guide him back to your cunt. “Please don’t. Want to see what those hands can do.” 

His mouth is still by your ear, so you hear the dark chuckle and feel the air tickle you. He moves your hand aside along with your shorts as he slips his hand inside the fabric. His middle finger resumes the previous pattern almost lazily. You’re about to ask him to stop teasing you when he presses a finger inside you suddenly.

“Fuck,” you nearly scream. 

“Is someone a little sensitive?” he teases. He’s a fucking demon and you would gladly sell your soul so he didn’t stop. 

The way he pumps his finger inside of you is entirely too slow. But, when you try to meet his rhythm, he stops. Just when you think you might actually die, he inserts a second finger. It makes your back arch, pressing your ass further against his now very hard cock. He hisses and pulls his fingers out from you. As you’re turning over to adjust your position, you see him insert his fingers into his mouth. Holy shit. He really is the hottest man you’ve ever met. 

Instead of letting you carry on in any way, he pushes himself up and repositions. You’re not really sure what he’s doing until he reaches for your shorts to pull them off. His focus is on you, silently asking for permission again. All you can do is nod. 

“Told you that I wanted to taste you,” he reminds you once your shorts are off. 

“Are you sure…” you start to ask before he cuts you off.

His head snaps up so he can meet your eyes. “I’ve been waiting to taste you for weeks.”

That shuts you up pretty effectively. What can you really say in response to that? Anything you might have said dies in your throat as he licks a messy stripe up your folds. He quickly settles, using one hand to keep you spread open for him, and licks into you. It’s all you can do to keep your eyes on him as his head bobs between your legs. You thread your fingers through his hair to keep him in place even though you know he’s not going anywhere. (And okay, maybe it’s more to ground yourself to him than anything else.) 

It shouldn’t be surprising that his attentiveness translates this well, but it is a little surprising how well he seems to know your body. The way he knows just when to switch from licking into your cunt to flicking his tongue over your clit. The way he knows when he needs to add a finger and then a second. The way he can tell everything your body needs before you even realize it. 

By the time he pulls himself up your body, he’s got you nearly panting from the build up. The kiss he presses to your lips is sloppy and a little desperate. Like you’re both totally fucked out. His fingers inside you keep a relentless pace as he hooks them, hitting that perfect spot. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you yell out, breaking the kiss. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire in an entirely different way from the night before. 

There’s nothing in the world but Joshua and the way he coaxes everything out of you. The way he has you squirting on his fingers. You’re not even sure if the praise coming out of your mouth makes any sense and you’re definitely not sure what he says in return. It’s all you can do just to appreciate the moment. 

You think that you’re going to get the chance to get your mouth around his cock now that he’s given you another mind blowing orgasm. But, by the time you get your breathing under control, you see that he’s rolling a condom from your drawer onto himself. He pulls you to the edge of the bed so that your legs are hanging off. It’s instantly stronger than you’re expecting from him and pulls a gasp from you. 

Without even thinking, your legs fall open. Joshua seems to have found a bottle of lube, too, and spreads it over his cock. When he lines himself up at your entrance, you expect him to ease in like the night before. He doesn’t. He snaps his full length inside of you in one motion and you’re so overstimulated, but it feels so good.

“Fuck me, Joshua, oh my fucking god,” you say and clench down around his dick. 

“Shit, that feels so good,” he hisses. 

“You feel so good,” you moan. 

“You have no idea,” he answers and starts thrusting. 

It’s a complete haze from the moment you hear his skin slap against your own. Every coherent thought leaves your head. There is nothing in the world but you and him and the way you make each other feel. He leans over your body, crowds your space. Steals sloppy, desperate kisses. Praises you constantly and in broken sentences. It’s all you can do just to hold on, so sore and so unable to stop.

Your hands grip into the sheets around you that are completely rumpled. You try everything to keep your eyes on Joshua’s face. Memorize the way he looks when he’s concentrating. Appreciate how totally gone he is because you’re sure it’s the same look you have. Delight in the way his eyes get even wider when you clench your pussy around him. 

It feels a little like he’s using your body to chase his own high, except there’s total comfort in that. All you want is for him to feel as good as you do. All you want is for him to get that release, especially since you haven’t been able to get your mouth on his cock yet. 

“Harder Joshua, please. I know you’re close,”  you beg and he obliges immediately. 

Even though you’re trying to meet the rhythm, you can’t. It’s too erratic and too unpredictable. So you pull him down to you again and kiss him. Slip your tongue inside his mouth and let the kisses get as sloppy as they need to. You feel how close he is and only kiss him harder. He breaks the kiss for the last few thrusts, groaning as he comes. You’re right there with him. 

(Later, he tells you that he’s never seen anyone hotter than you when you come. It would make you embarrassed in any other situation. But, you realize that you’ve never been with anyone that’s come close to him, so maybe it’s okay to accept his praise. Maybe you deserve it. Maybe this is the person that you’ve been waiting for.)

Now, you really do have to get up and clean up. As tempting as Joshua’s offer to shower together is, you don’t want it to turn into shower sex because that’s just not sexy (or practical). Neither one of you can seem to guarantee keeping their hands off the other. Instead, you tell him that he can use the shower in your guest room. It’s fully stocked and there are still more spare clothes in there. He insists that he should get some laundry going because you must be running out of clean sheets and you definitely made a mess. 

With Joshua cleaning up some around the house, you’re the first out of the shower and dressed. Pleasantly sore in the kind of way you really enjoy. You’re sitting on the couch and scrolling through your phone, trying to decide if you want to order food or just cook what you already have. Before you can make a decision, there’s a knock at the door. It’s impossible to guess who it could be. Even Jeonghan wouldn’t bother you like this. Although he’s been texting asking for an update after you told him you finally got your shit together, he wouldn’t show up like this. 

When you open the door, you’d give anything for it to just be Jeonghan. Instead, you see a face that you’ve been seeing entirely too much lately.

“What are you doing here, Johnny?” you ask with a heavy sigh. 

“I need to talk to you,” he says.

“Why?” you ask.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” he pleads.

“Johnny, it’s the day after your wedding. What the fuck are you doing on my doorstep?” you ask, arms crossed. 

“Are you really going to make me do this in the hallway?” he asks. 

“I don’t see any reason to invite you inside,” you retort. 

“It’s about your, uh, boyfriend,” Johnny says a little awkwardly.

“Joshua?” you ask because that actually piques your interest a bit.

“Can I come in?” he asks.

“No. What about Joshua?” you ask.

“This is really awkward. It would be better if we were sitting down…” Johnny starts.

“My little honeybun, is everything okay?” Joshua asks from inside the apartment. He must be out of the shower. 

“Babe, we talked about the pet names,” you remind him as he joins you at the door.

“Oh, uh, I wasn’t expecting him to be here,” Johnny says.

“I’m her boyfriend, so I know why I’m here. What are you doing here?” Joshua says without hiding any disdain.  "Are you really her boyfriend, though?" Johnny challenges. You stiffen almost imperceptibly, but Joshua must notice it because he wraps an arm around you protectively. "Of course I am. Why are you here?"

“I needed to talk to her,” Johnny says stiffly.

“About you, apparently,” you say with your eyes on Joshua. 

“Right, so can you give us a minute?” Johnny asks with his eyes on Joshua.

“No, he can’t. If you have something to say, just say it. Then you can leave us alone,” you say.

“Fine, if you really want it to be like this, fine,” Johnny says. “I knew he looked familiar when I saw him at your parents’ house with you. It just took me a while. I ran into him at a couple of functions back when I was in college and traveling all around for my dad.” 

“Okay? And? I’m sorry, but I’m not sure why I care,” you say even though you know where he’s going.

“He was always with older women,” Johnny presses. 

“Can you just make your point so we can get back to our day?” Joshua asks.

“Fine,” Johnny says, irritated. “The whispers were that women paid him to come to the events with them. That he was selling himself to them.” 

You actually snort at the phrasing. It takes you several seconds to compose yourself. You wonder what the point of Johnny doing this and if it’s his way of trying to keep you on the hook. Then you realize that you don’t really care what he does. For the first time in forever, you’re genuinely happy. 

“I’m glad you think this is funny,” Johnny says. 

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I know how Joshua helped pay for his education. And like why am I going to give him a hard time over seizing an opportunity? There’s nothing wrong with profiting off of someone wanting his company platonically,” you say. 

“You’re assuming he wasn’t also sleeping with them,” Johnny says, a little stubborn.

“No, I’m not assuming. I know he wasn’t because we’ve talked about this. He told me all about it without even being prompted. And unlike certain people in my life, I have absolutely no reason to doubt him. I know I can actually trust him,” you say. “It was also years before we met. We’ve all got history.”

“Nice dig,” he says. 

“It’s not a dig, Johnny. Not everything is a slight,” you say with a sigh. “Where does Gabby think you are?”

“What?” Johnny asks. 

“Your wife,” you clarify. “Where does she think you are?”

“Oh, well, that’s not important. I just said I had some errands to take care of,” Johnny says and you roll your eyes.

“We’re done, Johnny,” you say.

“Wait,” he says as you’re moving to shut the door. “I know I fucked up, but…”

“There’s no buts. Not anymore,” you say. “Maybe there was a point where I’d want to hear the buts and the apologies and all that. I’m happy now, though, and you can’t even tell your wife that you came to see your ex-fiancee the day after your wedding.” 

“It’s not like…” he starts and you start to close the door at the same time.

“It’s exactly like that. Goodbye, Johnny,” you say. 

The second you close the door, you feel a giant weight lifted off you. You just feel tired. It’s obvious that there aren’t any feelings there anymore, so him pretending he cares as a pretense to see you just feels irritating.

“Are you okay?” Joshua asks, eyes raking over you.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you say.

“You sure?” he asks.

“Yeah, really. I think I knew when I saw him at my parents’ house that time you came over for dinner that I was completely over it,” you say. “I’m sorry he tried to bring something like that up or make it a big deal.” 

“I don’t care. It’s like you said, I did it and I’m not ashamed of that,” he says. “But, uh, I really wanted to thank you.”

“For what?” you ask.

“For defending me and for saying you trust me,” he says. It makes you a little shy for a second, so you look down.

“Oh, well, it’s not a big deal,” you say. 

Joshua closes the space and tilts your chin up to look at him. “It’s a huge deal to me. I know we started pretending, but trusting me means the absolute world.” 

“You make it easy,” you admit. 

That seems to render him a little speechless as well because all he does is pull you into him in the tightest hug he’s ever given you. Your body fits into his like a puzzle piece. Which sounds sappy, even if in your head, and you don’t actually care. It’s the safest and the happiest you’ve ever felt.

“What?” he asks when you pull away.

“Nothing, I just think this is going to work,” you say. 

Joshua smiles at you, that genuine smile he saves for when he’s at his happiest. “Yeah, I think so too.” 

i hope you enjoyed this fic! let me know your thoughts 💕

tag list: @aaniag, @gyuminusone, @crepecakeu, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @amoryeonjun, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizoon, @klecksstorys, @sunflowergyeomie, @straykidswhoo789, @holistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @matchahyuck, @sonybear40, @kimseokgen, @hyneyedfiz, @miujunhui, @graybaeismytae, @hyucksrealm, @livixxn, @sharonxdevi, @coupsystar8, @sana-is-ms-rmty, @pyeonghongrie-main, @naajaeminsgf, @beomesbabe, @magicshop913, @deletingthekisses, @lissiesykes (strikethrough means i couldn't tag, check your settings!)

[arminsumi]

I WANT TO KISS YOU / キスしたい

↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader

you and Satoru falling in love despite a language barrier.

2.9k

Chapter index

Summary : you've come to visit Japan to meet these two boys you met online. Though Satoru can't speak English and you can't speak Japanese, the two of you still fall in love. Very cute. Very cheesy. Oh no... wait is there a tension between you and his best friend, too? Oh boy...

Warnings : romantic tension with Suguru / potential love triangle, cat scratch

Note : i think of this fic a lot and i found the continuation hiding out in my drafts sooo here 👍

🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works

Satoru blinks awake to see your face. His heart beats harder.

結局昨日は夢ではなかったのか？ Yesterday was not a dream after all?

He's not an early bird at all, but from the first day of your visit he magically woke up early as if his soul was too excited to sleep when it knew you were right there, in the flesh. No screen. Just you.

When the first day starts, it feels like you've always been together. Was there ever a screen separating the two of you? And were you really going to disappear behind one again in just a month?

今のところ、彼女はここに留まるように感じています。彼女が訪問を終えて出発するとき、私は空港で赤ん坊のように泣くことになると思います。 For now, she feels like she's here to stay. I think I'm going to cry like a baby at the airport when she leaves after her visit.

Morning routines are carried out. The sky is cloudy at first, threatening rain, and by the time you three cluster into the kitchen to make breakfast together, it starts raining.

You and Satoru banter like two cats. Suguru's morning rasp is very strong.

"Satoru... uh... sugar?" you ask, preparing to make yourself a second one and automatically making Satoru another one, since he looks still very bleary-eyed even after spending an hour freshening up in the bathroom.

"...? Yes?" he tilts his head, then you raise the sugar cube jar. "Yes. Uh... four. Thank you."

Suguru's blushing because of the cute tension between you and his best friend. It fills the whole kitchen, which already felt full with their two bodies and a third one now. Everyone keeps bumping elbows and yet not complaining about it, in fact it's enjoyable to be squished together. Maybe because you three waited so long to be together in person, you don't mind it. There's a silent, ever-present comedy in the air about the tight proximity.

You hum happily, tossing in one, two, three... four? That's a lot of sugar. "Suguru, tell Satoru he mustn't have so much sugar all the time. It's not good for his health."

Suguru laughs. "I try to tell him that every day. But his sweet tooth is incurable."

"His dentist must hate him." you smirk at Satoru, who's been looking at you blushingly after hearing his name mentioned.

彼女の声が今では一番好きな音だと思います。 I think her voice is my favorite sound now.

もう一度私の名前を言ってください。 Please say my name again.

"Satoru? Coffee?" you interrupt his lovey-dovey thoughts and he suddenly reanimates himself, because for a moment there he zoned out and just stared at you with those pretty eyes.

"Mmm... thanks." he takes the coffee from you with a noticeable timidness that you can't quite explain. There's a lot about him that's indescribable, you're having a small internal crisis; aren't you supposed to be fluent in English? And yet you can't even begin to describe just how sweet and gentle Satoru behaves. The most you can do is use metaphors that barely justify him.

"Suguru, tell her... her voice is nice, and also sorry for cuddling you in my sleep (and that she can definitely kick me away at night if it bothers her.) Also!" (the three of you head into the living room, and Suguru habitually trips over the cat who stalks under his feet too quietly to notice) "Also tell her... if it rains today, does she still want to go out? Because if we go out in the rain, she might get sick. And I don't want her to get sick on her trip. Not that I'd mind taking care of you, Y/n, of course."

Suguru lets out a long sigh and pulls a funny face. You smile amusedly.

"...It's too early to be a translator..." he grumbles in English after Satoru overloads him.

"What? C'mon tell her everything I said!"

"Let me have my coffee first. How about the two of you write to each other?" he suggests, putting the rim of the cup to his lips and sipping languidly.

"Eh, fine." Satoru pouts, and stalks off into his bedroom to get his phone.

Then, when he's in his bedroom, his chest flutters for some reason when he sees your suitcase standing there opened and emptied into the free cupboard space. He takes his phone, smiles at the homely feeling of seeing your belongings in his room, and leaves.

"Oh..." he has a sudden idea, and remembers the magnetic drawing board that's hanging in the kitchen. He and Suguru usually use it for writing reminders to each other, like get milk or you're an idiot or sometimes it has doodles of Mint the cat with sunglasses on.

So he returns to you with this magnetic drawing board, and points at it meaningfully, then holds one finger up and bows his head as he begins writing very slowly.

Suguru's checking the weather forecast and muttering sour complaints under his breath to you. "Of course it would rain for three days just when you arrive... at least by the weekend it will be clear and sunny..."

"Mmm... it's alright. A little rain never hurt nobody." you respond.

"I like your optimism." Suguru compliments flippantly at first, but then continues; "It's really uplifting. I think Satoru said something about you being a joy once, he said it really poetically but I can't recall it now."

"Aw..." you dip your head beneath your coffee cup, hiding the bashful expression on your face, which Suguru chuckles at.

And then, for a long moment, you just stare and watch Satoru writing on the board. You're completely captured in this moment, completely captivated in his enveloping presence as he sits next to you. He has slow, meticulous wrist movements. His knees press together, like he's worried that he'll invade your personal space if he sits too comfortably close to you. Funny, considering he cuddled you all night and you had no complaints about it.

He's writing very simply and neatly, just like how he texts you. You're a bit baffled by the characters he's using, though he's trying his best to avoid using any kanji knowing that you don't know a lot of it. He's sure you can figure things out by slowly pronouncing each hiragana character, or at least he hopes.

"Here." he hands you the magnetic drawing board, and then raises from the couch to go feed the cat.

"Minto-Minto... " he calls after the cat and makes a small cute sound to lure her out.

You're trying to read each hiragana character, eyes squinting a bit.

Suguru leans in close to you. He just takes a look, but the proximity for some reason gives both of you butterflies.

"Ooh... that's cute." Suguru comments after reading what Satoru wrote. His voice reaches deep in your tummy.

"Hm... I'll spell it out and... figure it out... anyways, why did you name your cat Mint?"

"Oh... well. There's two reasons. So the first..." he sets down his coffee, like he's about to tell you a great story, "Is because Satoru watched this show called Tokyo Mew Mew growing up, and he liked the character Minto. So he calls her Minto. And then I agreed on calling her that, but I call her Mint, because I hate mint the herb."

"You — haha, wait what? You call her Mint because you hate mint?"

"Yes. I hate mint, both the herb and the cat. She hates me too, clearly." Suguru raises his hand to remind you of how the cat scratched him the night before.

"Such a cute Hello Kitty sticker..." you tease.

"Thank you. Only the manliest men wear Hello Kitty Bandaids."

"How did she scratch you anyways...?"

"Oh, she likes to hang out in the washing machine if Satoru accidentally leaves it open. And when I try take her out of her comfy spot, she scratches me."

You sympathize, "Poor thing."

"What, the cat or me?" Suguru laughs.

"The cat." you lie teasingly.

"Wow! And here I thought you were being sympathetic!" he raises his brows.

You giggle and look at him, eyes finally making contact — ooh no that's bad bad bad, better break it immediately. So the two of you look away like you've both just indulged in a taboo intimacy. His stomach flips.

"Minto has been fed. She gave me cuddles." Satoru comes back into the room, and you admire the feeling he brings with him.

"No scratches?" Suguru asks.

"No, obviously, she loves me more than you." Satoru cheeks.

"Fuck you, haha."

Satoru makes his voice lower and leans to Suguru, "(Did she figure out what I wrote yet?)"

"Y/n did you figure out what he wrote?" Suguru asks.

"I'm trying so hard. What does this part mean...?"

Suguru shakes his head and puts his hands up. "Like I said, I'm not Mr Translator in the mornings."

"But you've had your coffee! Please, just this part..." you beg, and he can't deny that sweet begging. He easily folds for it, just like when Satoru begs for anything.

"Okay, where — this? Uh... Satoru your handwriting isn't usually this neat, is it...? That part means... 'voice'."

"Oh... ohhh!" you suddenly realize, and then the boys swoon over you when you pronounce the characters out loud to yourself.

"Uh... I think I know what it means..." you feel your cheeks warm up from the crown to your jawline.

あなたのこえがすき。 a-na-ta-no-ko-e-ga-su-ki.

"I like your voice, too." you respond to Satoru, and he half-gets it and gives you a thumbs up.

"Thanks."

You look at each other and then promptly look away with shy smiles.

"You two are cute." Suguru comments.

"Ahah... ahah shut up... hey, the sky has cleared up." you point out.

"Ooh... it cleared up 'cuz Satoru walked back into the room."

You awe at what he said.

"?"

"Nothing."

"Hey, Translator — (stop talking about me behind my back!)"

Suguru chuckles, "I wasn't! I was just — never mind. Let's get ready to head out."

And so you head into Satoru's bedroom to get ready, and Suguru heads into his bedroom, and Satoru himself goes into the cramped bathroom. Poor boy. He's really too tall for that archway, he bumped his head again.

彼女に花を買ってあげるべきでしょうか？それともちょっと多すぎますか？ Should I buy her flowers? Or is it a bit too much?

（なんてことだ）、なぜこのシャツには穴が開いているのでしょう？ (Oh my god), why does this shirt have holes?

The door slides open, he steps out of the bathroom half-dressed, and intends to quickly slip into Suguru's bedroom to borrow a shirt instead of awkwardly knocking on his bedroom door and disturbing you.

But oh, you know what? The cheesiest possible thing happens instead. The universe likes making Satoru's life a little more fun in odd times. So the two of you encounter each other in the hallway; you're fully clothed and he's got just pants and socks on.

He stutters once, swallows awkwardly, and even more awkwardly places his hand on your head as if to say sorry for this inconvenience.

But you laugh in response to the funny situation.

ああ、またあの美しい笑い声。 Ah, that beautiful laugh again.

"Sorry." he mutters, and disappears to go get a shirt from Suguru.

"It's okay." you reply.

The image of your pretty smile is burned in his head.

You can hear him telling Suguru something in the other room, and then you hear Suguru's muffled laugh as a response.

"(Don't laugh! I'm embarrassed! She's seen me shirtless now! No one's seen me shirtless except you!)"

"(You're such a virgin.)"

"(Say that again, I dare you.)"

"(Sorry, I don't understand you. I don't speak virgin, only English and Japanese.)"

You're wondering why Satoru sounds so embarrassed and annoyed, and then he groans down the hallway. It feels like you're their roommate, it's funny.

"Hi."

"Hi."

The two of you encounter each other in the hall again. This time he has a shirt, yes. And this time Suguru is there, too, and he's holding back an amused smile. He fluffs Satoru's hair as a way of embarrassing him more.

So Satoru leaves, and he leaves in such a way that it's super comedic, making you and Suguru laugh. Ooh, what a laugh that boy has; his Addam's apple shifts up and down deliciously.

"Ah... Suguru? I need help with the washing machine..."

"Yes...?"

"...this kid on the plane who sat next to me, he spilled strawberry juice all over my shirt and now it's sticky."

"But at least it smells like strawberries, right?" he jokes. "You can put it in the washing machine, I'll be doing the laundry in a second anyways..." there is a small moment of eye contact shared, then Suguru looks down, and frowns at something he sees, "(SATORU YOU LEFT YOUR SOCK ON THE FLOOR AGAIN!)"

"(Haha, sorry.)" you hear Satoru half-heartedly apologize from the other room.

So Suguru picks up the sock like an annoyed mother and goes to lecture Satoru.

"(You're embarrassing me in front of our guest. For the love of god, don't leave your goofy ass socks on the floor. What if she slips on them?)"

"(You're such a mother, Suguru.)"

You're calmly and casually going to put your juice-stained shirt in the washing machine like Suguru said, but then...

(the boys are talking and there's just this hilariously dramatic scream from the laundry room)

"DID THE CAT SCRATCH YOU?"

"(Did the cat scratch her?)"

"Ow, y-yeah!" you whine.

Suguru's the first one at the crime scene, and he picks up the cat and proceeds to lecture the cat as if it understands Japanese. It licks its lips and nubby nose and has an evil stare. You giggle.

"I'm so sorry... come, uh — (Suguru, we still have Hello Kitty adhesives somewhere, right?)" Satoru instinctually holds your hand that got scratched.

And he holds it so tenderly and caringly that it makes your whole chest quake for him.

彼女の手の傷はとても小さなものですが、それでも私は心臓がチクチクするのを感じました。 Although the wound on her hand was very small, I still felt my heart tingle.

He leads you to his bedroom, picking up some adhesives and antiseptic on the way, and sits with you on the unmade beds. You watch his fingers nimbly peeling the plastic off the adhesive, admiring how swiftly and perfectly he does even the littlest things. He has such a great attention to detail, it makes you self-conscious; is he thinking of you with the same attention to detail as everything else? Yes... he is.

He dabs some antiseptic on your small scratch, and then gently wraps and pats the Hello Kitty adhesive around it. You're pretty sure he's the one who bought them. Oh, if only you could ask him, but where even is your phone? Lost in a void somewhere, probably.

"Thank you, Satoru."

His eyes light up. His heart thumps. Why did those small, simple words have such a great effect on him?

"Mhm." he hums in acknowledgement. "You're welcome."

あなたの傷がもっと良くなるようにキスしたいです。 I want to kiss your wounds to make them better.

A second after thinking this and looking at your hand, he brings it to his lips and presses a very delicate kiss to the edge of your wrist, where the small cut spanned up to the base of your palm. Can you even call it a kiss? It's more like his lips graze your skin, hovering timidly.

And for some reason... the atmosphere becomes very intimate. Is it because of the place where he kissed you? The inner wrist has never occurred to you to be an intimate spot, and yet you're feeling as if he just kissed you on the lips.

You hear him audibly swallow, like he's conscious of this, too. The both of you become very aware of the tension in the atmosphere.

And then he looks apologetic, as if he overstepped a boundary. So you mutter a small, whispery "thanks..." which lifts his heart up into his throat and reassures him that you don't mind the intimacy.

"Mmm..." he blinks at you, pursing his lips.

His eyes linger on your lips for a moment, and it feels like he's about to... well you know his body just wants to... he sort of...

"Hey, how's the wounded patient?" Suguru interrupts, and you and Satoru spring apart like you're elastic bands that just got released after being stretched.

"Ahah, I'm okay. It's not a bad scratch." you lift your hand, "I'll cherish this Hello Kitty Bandaid forever, thank you."

"Yeah, Satoru bought 'em so you can thank him."

"I knewww he bought them, haha! So expected... cutiepie." you admire Satoru, and he's pretty sure that the last thing you said is some cute nickname, so he smirks.

"Okay, well... anyways, let's head out before the sun rises too high and it gets too hot to walk."

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

[softspiderling]

so obsessed with your ex | r.c.

summary: “Hey,” you smiled at her, alarmingly genuine. “Rebecca, right?”

“Yeah.”

You nodded, your eyes warm. “We haven’t met. I’m-”

“I know who you are,” Rebecca interrupted you, her cheeks warming when she realized what she was alluding to. You exchanged a discreet look with Sarah and Rebecca willed the ground to open up and swallow her with the way the conversation was going.

OR If Rebecca had known that her obsession with you would lead to you and Rafe getting back together, she would've done a whole lot different.

pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader / Rafe Cameron x OC

warnings: during most of this fic, Rafe is dating someone else. Sorry, it's part of the plot, but they don't do a lot of couple-y things, if that's any consolation! Rebecca is kind of delulu (actually, she is very delulu), but i'm hoping that most of you can relate to it, NO cheating!

word count: 4,1k

author's note: something very different, i'm aware, but i was like a woman cursed when i listened to olivia rodrigo's song sorry and this was what i envisioned. I HOPE YOU LOVE IT!!!! Also, I want to @ my loveys @rafesmuse and @rafetopia bc ily guys, thanks for the support and my wife @ghostofwriting mwah mwah mwah, happy reading!!!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Rebecca had always felt secure in her relationship with Rafe.

Until she found out about you.

It all started when she was looking for a hair tie, knowing she had left a couple of them in Rafe’s bedroom whenever she stayed over.

“Baby, have you seen my hair ties? I swear I could’ve sworn I put them in the bedside drawer…” Rebecca muttered to herself, pulling open the drawers, rummaging through them. She froze when brushed a pack of condoms aside to reveal a picture she had never seen before. Rafe was talking to her from the bathroom, but Rebecca couldn’t hear a thing as she picked up the picture, looking at it with a funny feeling.

The picture looked like it was taken mid-conversation as you and Rafe were standing closely together, having eyes for no one but each other. Even thought you were barely touching, it felt weirdly intimate. More intimate than a close friend. And Rebecca had seen you around Kildare before, but you never had made an active move to talk to Rafe when they were at a party, so if you were friends, he definitely would’ve introduced her to you, right?

“Bex, hey. Did you find one?”

“What?”

Flustered, Rebecca looked up from the picture, her cheeks red and Rafe raised an eyebrow at her, a hair tie on his open palm.

“I asked if you found a hair tie. I put them in the bathroom,” he said, rounding the bed to hand it to her. “What d’ya got there?”

“Oh, just a picture I found,” Rebecca said quickly, taking the hair tie out of his hand, moving to put the picture back in the drawer, but Rafe was quicker, snatching it out of her grip with a laugh.

“Are we starting to lie each other now?”

Rebecca watched him closely as he took a look at the picture, pressing her lips together as he paused, taking it in.

“That’s-” she broke off, clearing her throat, before she said your name. “… Right?”

“Yeah, yeah…”

Rafe frowned, before he lifted his head to look at her. Rebecca couldn’t quite decipher the look on his face. She had never seen him like this before.

“I didn’t know you dated her,” she said, nonchalantly, hoping he would deny it. But Rafe only shrugged, glancing at the picture one more time before he put it back in the drawer, shutting it close.

“We broke up before you came on the island, how were you supposed to know?”

Rafe pressed a kiss to her temple, but Rebecca was still fixated on the picture, staring at where she knew it laid inside the drawer.

“Are you ready? Top’s gonna come pick us up in a few.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rebecca replied, distracted. “Uh, you can go downstairs, I’ll be down asap.”

“A’ight.”

Rebecca smiled at him, waiting until he left the room, before she slid open the drawer again, reaching for the picture to stare at it, her thumb rubbing circles into the corner, wondering who was still printing pictures in this day and age. She wasn’t sure how long she was standing there, jumping when she heard Rafe yelling for her.

“Bex, Top is here!”

“Coming!” Rebecca called back and without thinking, she slipped the picture into her purse before heading downstairs.

To say that Rebecca grew infatuated with you after finding that picture was an understatement. She was obsessed.

Okay, maybe not obsessed, that had a weird tone to it. Fixated.

She was pretty fixated on you.

Rebecca immediately had followed you on instagram when she got home later that night. Scrolling through your profile, she noticed that while you weren’t following Rafe and vice versa, you still followed all of his friends and his family. Rafe’s younger sister Wheezie seemed to be a constant in your life still, judging by her comments under all of your pictures. Apparently you were still well-liked by his family friends, and Rebecca started to wonder why you and Rafe broke up. But it wasn’t like she could ask Rafe why you broke up, right?

“What?” Topper stared at her, as if Rebecca had just asked him to give her 1k. His look made her nervous though, and she glanced over her shoulder, making sure that Rafe was still out of earshot.

“You’re his best friend,” she stated, albeit unnecessarily. “You have to know.”

Topper rubbed his jaw, like he was conflicted, which Rebecca really didn’t understand. What was the big deal? She had intentionally waited until Topper was a little tipsy, and now she was wondering if that was a mistake, since he seemed strangely paranoid.

“You’re his girlfriend. Shouldn’t you be asking him that question?”

“I don’t want to stir up trouble! Why can’t you just tell me?” Rebecca raised her voice, her cheeks flushing when she realized that people were starting to stare, so she burrowed deeper into the couch, waiting until everyone went back to their business. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked this at a party.

“It was a mutual break up,” Topper then answered, speaking slowly like every single word was gravel in his mouth. “Rafe never really told me why, but they just disappeared out of each other’s lives from one day to the next, as if they haven’t been dating for the last four years. But she never said anything bad about him in the aftermath… Neither did he.”

That just created more questions than it answered, but before Rebecca could get her thoughts sorted to prod Topper again, Rafe returned, his shoulders lose.

“Your drink,” he said, handing Rebecca a cup, settling down on the couch next to her, throwing his arm over the back. He hadn’t even been sitting for a minute, when Topper got to his feet, muttering something about finding the pong table for a game.

“What’s with him?”

Rebecca only shrugged, choosing to sip on her drink instead of giving an answer, her mind still reeling from the information she got from Topper. The more she learned about you, the more she was intrigued and filled with questions, that she felt like would never be answered.

“You good?”

Rebecca barely lifted her head from the window she was leaning it, her reaction a little slow. She had been… Drinking a little more than she liked. Every time she wanted to ask Rafe about you, she stopped herself and went for another drink, and that process had repeated itself over and over again until Rafe cut her off, deciding to take her home. Rebecca was more than tipsy, her inhibitions slightly out of control.

“Fine,” she replied with a little sigh, rubbing her temple. She could feel Rafe’s eyes on her and she could feel her resolve crumbling. “Why did you guys break up?”

The car swerved off the road for a second, making Rebecca grab onto the arm rest to keep steady while Rafe cursed.

“The fuck?” he said, glancing over at her with a frown. “Where the hell did that come from?”

Rebecca exhaled deeply through her lips before she looked over to him, her brows furrowed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Topper told me you were dating for four years, Rafe. Four years! But he couldn’t even tell me why. Isn’t he your best friend? He should know that, right?”

Rafe stared at her, as if trying to gauge her reaction. Rebecca hadn’t even noticed that he had pulled the car to the side, the motor long off.

“Is this like a test or somethin’?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “No. I’m just genuinely curious. She seems-”

Nice? Super pretty? Like his perfect match?

She didn’t finish her sentence.

“What?” Rafe muttered under his breath, and Rebecca only scoffed in annoyance.

“Whatever,” she huffed, leaning her head against the window again. “Just forget it.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Rafe just sitting there, turning the ring on his finger, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“We got into a lot of fights near the end,” he started, his tone defeated. “She’s pretty headstrong, likes being right. I like sticking to my opinion… It wasn’t healthy anymore, so we both knew that something had to change, even though I still…. There was still love.”

Rafe stopped, but Rebecca held herself back with saying anything, wanting to soak up every bit of information he was willing to give her.

“We figured a clean cut would be best for both of us, have no contact. Give us a chance to start fresh, see new people.”

Rebecca could tell that he was holding something back, probably something along the line of how he was struggling with the no contact rule, but didn’t want to seem like he was still holding onto you.

“She’s really pretty,” she only said.

“Yeah.”

Do you still love her?

Rebecca was glad that she was still able to hold herself back enough to not ask that. She had a feeling that she wouldn’t like the answer that much.

“Thanks for telling me.”

“Yeah. You done throwing tantrums?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes with a small smile and settled back into her seat while Rafe started the car to continue their way home. Most girlfriends would probably feel angry that their boyfriend seemed to be so sentimental still when it came to their ex, but all that Rebecca could think about was how you clearly were someone he held dearly, and that she wished to be that reach that point soon.

And when she was about fall asleep after they got home to his place, she wondered how often you had fallen asleep on her side of Rafe’s bed like this. She thought finding out more about your relationship with Rafe, she would stop obsessing you.

But she didn’t.

She kept it to herself, however, not mentioning you again after that one talk in the car she had with Rafe.

Rafe, who had been lighter ever since he talked about you, ever since she pushed him to talk about, which showed her that it was the right thing to do. Her fixation on you helped her relationship with Rafe and to her, that justified the amount of times she was checking out your social media, but Rafe wouldn’t understand. She admired you. Honestly, Rebecca felt like she could become pretty good friends with you, but what excuse did she have to talk to you besides dating your ex boyfriend? Worst case, she’d curse you out, best case she’d give you a fake smile. No thank you. Rebecca would much rather stick to admiring you from afar.

… Which was the reason why she was so nervous, when she met you for the first time. In her defense, this was the last place she had expected to see you. The place being Kelce’s house.

It was his birthday, and to celebrate it, he decided to throw a huge rager at his house. While Rebecca did arrive with Rafe, they quickly separated, with Rafe trying to find Kelce - this was his birthday after all - and her going to see her friends. After about two hours, and Rafe not replying to her texts, Rebecca started to walk around to see if she could find him. Which was easier said than done, the house was packed. When it took her nearly half an hour to get through the kitchen, Rebecca almost gave up until she saw Sarah sitting in the corner of the couch talking to someone.

“Sarah!”

Although Rebecca wasn’t the closest with her, she was about the only person she knew right now, and she could use a familiar face. Slipping between a kissing couple, she made her way straight to the couch, touching Sarah’s shoulder gingerly.

“Hey, I’m so glad I saw you. Have you seen Rafe anywhere? He hasn’t been answering his texts and I-”

Rebecca trailed off when she noticed Sarah glancing to her friend, only to realize that it was you who Sarah had been sitting with, and her words get stuck in her throat.

Oh.

“Hey,” you smiled at her, alarmingly genuine. “Rebecca, right?”

“Yeah.”

You nodded, your eyes warm. “We haven’t met. I’m-”

“I know who you are,” Rebecca interrupted you, her cheeks warming when she realized what she was alluding to. You exchanged a discreet look with Sarah and Rebecca willed the ground to open up and swallow her with the way the conversation was going.

“They’re probably in the basement,” you offered, maybe as some sort of olive branch. “Kelce likes to hide away down there to play pool during his parties.”

“Oh yeah yeah, Rafe probably doesn’t even have any bars down there,” Sarah chimed in.

“Right, okay, thanks,” Rebecca said, awkwardly. She stood behind the couch like a deer in headlights. You must have noticed, because you grabbed Sarah’s arm, scooting back on the couch to make more space.

“You can join us, if you want.”

“… Really?” Rebecca asked skeptically, not quite sure if the invitation was genuine or not.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

Hesitantly, she sat down next to Sarah, trying to get comfortable but she was far too aware of your presence, placing her purse in her lap.

“So have you already settled into Kildare?”

Your eyes were inquisitive and Rebecca was trying to see if there was any sign of malice or distrust in them, but all she could see was genuine interest.

“I mean, I guess so… Life down here is pretty chill. Like it’s its own world…?” Rebecca winces at her own words. “Sorry, that’s stupid.”

“No, no!” You insisted, waving your hands at her quickly. “I know exactly what you mean. We went to Charleston once to tour the college campus there and it was like we were on another planet, remember Sar?”

Sarah’s eyes widened and she nodded quickly, slapping your arm in excitement. It looked like it hurt, but by the way you were laughing, Rebecca assumed it was a regular thing. She wouldn’t know, she barely ever spent over twenty minutes with Rafe’s sister.

“Remember when we were auditing that one sociology class and Rafe fell asleep during the lecture?”

“Oh my god, yes. Because he and Top were playing that stupid video game that came out two days earlier all night long.”

You and Sarah giggled as you reminisced about the past, like two best friends and Rebecca grew envious of your friendship, wondering if she was ever going to have that kind of relationship with Sarah, though you did have running start with building a friendship with her outside of being Rafe’s girlfriend. Or ex, rather. Rebecca started rummaging in her bag, acting like she was looking for something, doing anything to seem less excluded, really.

Your laughter subsided and you smiled at Rebecca, stilling her hands in her purse when she realized the attention was back on her.

“How is Rafe?”

“Oh you know him,” Rebecca replied, a little less nervous now that she was talking about a topic where she wouldn’t feel left out, taking her purse off her lap, placing it on the couch between her and Sarah. “The usual. He’s more focused on keeping up the company than ever, been away a lot.”

You nodded, tucking your hair back, and for a second, you looked incredibly sad. Rebecca wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, because a second later, you were smiling again.

“I’m really glad he has you,” you then said, completely surprising Rebecca. “I think you’re really good for him. Rafe has been really hard on himself, taking everything a little too seriously, and I think you’re really balancing it all out.”

Rebecca’s eyebrows have almost disappeared into her hairline by now, she was so shell-shocked she didn’t even notice Sarah clinking herself out of the conversation, crossing her arms as she sat back.

“Isn’t it weird for you?”

“You mean because he’s my ex and you’re his new girlfriend?” You smiled wryly at her. “I guess it’s a little weird. But it’s not like there’s any bad blood between Rafe and I… In the end, I just want him to be happy, and it seems like you’re making him happy.”

Ducking her head, Rebecca hoped that it was dark enough to conceal her red cheeks. To her, this felt like an insanely gracious statement and suddenly, Rebecca felt validated for obsessing over you so much. You were great and she wasn’t being parasocial.

“I- Thank you. That really means a lot.”

“Of course, don’t worry about it,” you said with a smile, glancing at Sarah when she tugged on the ends of your hair gently. “What, do you want to leave?”

“I promised John B I’d meet him on the beach at sunrise.”

“Fine,” you sighed, you and Sarah standing up. Rebecca stayed seated, though she couldn’t help but feel disappointed that the conversation was cut short.

“It was really nice to talk to, Rebecca. Don’t be a stranger, alright?”

Rebecca waved good bye to you and Sarah, watching as you left with Sarah whispering into your ear insistently. She sat there by herself for a while, replaying the conversation in her head, before she realized she was being weird. Clearing her throat, Rebecca grabbed her purse, that still sat open next to her, her smile dropping when she saw that the picture she had snuck from Rafe’s drawer was peaking out of it.

“Shit,” she muttered to herself, pushing the picture deeper into her purse, before looking up into the crowd, wondering if you had seen it, and if you did, what you thought of her.

“Do you want to do something today?”

After discovering the picture had been sitting in the open like that, Rebecca started worrying if she just ruined her impression you had of her. But seriously, how stupid could she be? She completely forgot that the picture was in that purse. Rebecca had spent the remaining time at the party worrying what you thought of her.

“Like what?”

Rebecca rolled over in bed, looking up at Rafe as he got dressed. It was late in the morning, but still early enough for her to be tired after getting back from Kelce’s so late.

“I don’t know, something fun.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, his face disappearing momentarily while he put his shirt on.

“I have a meeting with Mr. Harris this afternoon and I’m meeting Dennis for an early lunch.”

“But it’s Sunday,” Rebecca pointed out, sitting up, a frown on her face.

“Work is work, no matter what kind of day it is.”

“Sorry, I just thought it’d be nice to do something fun for once,” she said, knowing she would spent the entire day worrying about what you thought of her if she wasn’t distracted, not noticing how Rafe was looking at her through the mirror.

“What’s going on with you?” he asked, his brows furrowed. “You never cared about that before.” Rafe paused, realization washing over his face. “You talked to-” His voice cracked, and Rebecca raised an eyebrow at him.

“… You talked to her, didn’t you?”

Rebecca could hear the accusatory tone in his voice and she leaned against the headboard, drawing her legs close.

“I did, at the party last night… She said she’s happy that you have me, that she was worried about how you work too much.”

Rafe was quiet for a while and Rebecca could feel a knot forming in her stomach. She couldn’t have two people be mad at her.

“That’s what she said?”

Nodding quickly, Rebecca smiled at him brightly. “Yeah. She was really nice. I like her.”

He let out a quiet huff, followed by a headshake, and she wasn’t quite sure what to do, nervously playing with the hem of her shirt.

“Alright. Maybe I can cut my lunch meeting short and we can do something after,” Rafe relented, and Rebecca looked up at him in surprise.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’ll text you later, alright?”

With a wave, Rafe left the bedroom, and Rebecca laid back down, letting out a happy sigh. Everything is working out in her favor!

A couple of hours later, Rebecca was standing in front of her closet, scanning the different clothes that hung in there, trying to decide on what to wear. She wasn’t sure what Rafe had planned, so she didn’t want to be completely inappropriately dressed. Letting out a annoyed sigh, Rebecca picked up her phone to text her friend for some fashion advice, stilling when she saw the new notification.

“Oh my god.”

You followed her back on insta! You must have not seen the picture after all and think she was weird!!!

Rebecca’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, wondering if she should dm you, maybe ask if you wanted to hang out, before she decided against it, putting her phone back on the dresser, face down. She didn’t want to seem to eager, she could wait a week.

Okay, maybe not a week, Rebecca thought, picking out some shorts and a red top, but a few days at least.

When she was all done, Rebecca grabbed the keys to her car, making her way over to Rafe’s place after he said he was done. It was a beautiful day out and she was so excited to see what he had planned for their date. Parking her car behind Rafe’s truck, she got out, heading inside.

“Baby, it’s me!” she called, shutting the door behind her. She didn’t have to wait long, until she could Rafe coming down the stairs, a box in his hand.

“What’s that?”

Rafe looked at her, his face unreadable.

“… What’s wrong?”

He let out a sigh, before stopping in front of her, and as Rebecca looked into the box, she realized it was full of her stuff.

“We need to talk,” he said, and her jaw dropped.

“What?”

“I just don’t think I’m in this relationship as I thought I was, and I don’t want to string you along, Bex,” Rafe explained, pushing the box into her arms. She just accepted the box, too shocked to do anything else.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No. You did the opposite, actually. Helped me see what I was really feeling. And I thought I’d get this over with, before anyone else gets hurt,” Rafe told her. “You understand, right?”

She only blinked at him, nodding dumbly.

A grin grew on Rafe’s face, and he stuffed his hands in his pocket. “Great. I knew you would understand.”

With an arm on her back, he lead Rebecca outside, and she just let him, moving on autopilot.

“I’ll see you around Bex,” he said, standing in the doorway, his hand on the door. “Don’t be a stranger.”

With those words, Rafe shut the door in her face, and Rebecca just blinked, still not having processed the situation.

“And he said he doesn’t want to string you along?”

“Yes.”

The words were muffled.

Rebecca was facedown in her pillow, hoping to die of embarassment, even if Jane was her best friend in Kildare. It had taken her a week to recuperate before she could tell her friends what happened, mostly because she still wasn’t sure what had happened.

“Are you okay?”

She lifted her head, giving Jane a look.

“I just don’t understand why he broke up with me.”

Jane waved her off, picking up her phone. “Oh don’t worry about it, I’m sure he’ll come crawling back tom- Never mind.”

“What?”

Having stopped mid-sentence, Jane was staring at her phone, eyebrows raised so high and Rebecca groaned, taking the phone out of her hand.

“You can’t just stop talking in the middle of the-”

Her eyes widened when she saw what had rendered Jane speechless: Sarah had posted an instagram story, a picture of a couple walking hand in hand in front of her. It was dark and a little blurry, but Rebecca could tell exactly who it was: You and Rafe.

“He’s such an asshole!” Jane screeched, snatching her phone out of Rebecca’s hand. “Let’s egg his house!”

Rebecca only snorted, rubbing her hands over her face with a groan. “J, no. Believe it or not, but I feel like this one’s on me.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: tell me what you think :)

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (6)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: I hope you all have found ways to cope after the breakup, but here all your questions will be answered on what went down pre-August! Special shoutout to @just-fics-station @thepurplecrown @clarkysblog @hotdismylife and @sprinklesprinkle888 for sharing your ideas and indulging me with the lovely, crazy discourse!

To everyone, I am so chuffed at how this has become OUR story - our lil self-indulgent Ewan Nation production. You all are aces <3

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

In the aftermath of the breakup, the reader and Ewan throw themselves into their work, trying (and failing) to avoid any trace of the other. Will they remain this way - former lovers doomed to drift in each other's orbit?

Some time before August

New York City

The lush office was laden with expensive wooden antiques, one side with built-in shelves displaying film awards and plaques of varying degrees of prestige. A full glass minibar occupied the other side.

The casting director introduced himself as Bruce, insisting that Ewan call him by his first name and not any of that "sir or similar stick-up-the-ass names". Ewan can see him as a mentor or maybe even a friend, Bruce insisted.

After all, they were going to help each other out a lot.

The discussion was straightforward enough, never mind the saccharine tone Bruce seemed to be so good at. Aimed at making Ewan feel welcome, coddling him, remarking with awe at his projects thus far. But there was a fakeness to it. Ewan steeled himself, trying to adapt to the style of conversation. After all, if he is in this for the long haul, then he would have to get used to these situations.

Bruce appraised him, leaning back on his leather swivel chair. "How are you with the fantasy genre? All that YA, lovesick stuff the kids eat up so eagerly nowadays? Personally, I haven't got the taste for it, but it always makes bank, if you know what I mean."

"Oh, well, I'm a fan of all movies. I definitely see why the fantasy genre has made such an impact on audiences, especially with the romance element, you know, I get the appeal."

"Well, son, we've got a solid franchise in our hands here. Some adaptation of an elf-human love story, mind you, it sound ridiculous, but you know how it is. And the team seems to be in agreement - you fit the bill for the male lead. The male elf lead - " he almost guffawed at the thought, then collected himself " - hope you don't mind my saying that you've got elvish features yourself. Long nose, long jaw, lanky. The teens are going to eat you up."

"Ah," Ewan smiled curtly, nodding. There was a backhanded compliment if he ever heard one. "Well, sir, I've read the script - at least, the bit that was sent to me - and it looks quite promising. I'd be honoured to - "

"Of course, of course!" Bruce exclaimed in pleasure, cutting Ewan off mid-sentence. "And there's the case of your leading lady, and this all boils down to chemistry as you know. Our top contender is that Jenna Ortega girl from the Netflix show, you know her?"

Ewan nodded, well aware. He's seen her work, and thinks that she is a top actress of her generation, but leave it to Bruce to reduce her to being that girl from the Netflix show.

"Yes, she's a very talented actress," Ewan replied.

Bruce hums in agreement, head bobbing as a smirk materialises on his face. "Think she's a looker?" he said openly, without shame.

Ewan laughed nervously, his words caught in his throat.

Bruce, characteriscally oblivious to the discomfort of others, carried on. "I only ask because we're going to need you two to be pretty chummy with each other when you jump on this project. It's kind of a condition of the whole thing, but really nothing to concern yourself with." He waved a hand in the air, his proposition barely carrying any weight in his mind. But Ewan was catching on, and he started to develop a dislike about the whole deal.

"What do you mean?" Ewan asked.

"It's pretty common in this business, son. There's a reason why young, new actors like yourself opt to remain unattached so to speak, so they're always open to a PR arrangement or, you know, just so their - your - hoards of fans would think they got a chance with you," Bruce explains lazily. "In this case, since you and Ortega are, as I said, unattached, getting you two together would fuckin' do wonders for our movie."

Our movie, he said, convinced that Ewan was all in, because why would any young actor refuse such a golden opportunity? Franchises like this can set up an entire mainstream Hollywood career.

Ewan thought that he wasn't unattached. Granted, his date with you was yet to happen, but he already felt bound to you. He wished you were the one tapped to be his love interest. Very little acting would be needed there. Maybe he might even be inclined to go along with the idea of selling the relationship, using it for publicity for the film, but even that made him uneasy.

The industry offered a lot of privileges, but more often than not, they come at a cost.

"Sir, I - "

"Bruce."

"Right, sorry. Bruce, I have to tell you that I'm not exactly unattached."

"Got a partner?"

Ewan actually found himself smiling at the thought of you being called his partner. His first easy smile since entering this office. "Yes, she's an actress herself," he agreed.

"I heard of her?" Bruce asked with obvious disinterest. You were but a wedge in his flawless plan.

"She's kind of a new talent like me, but she's brilliant. She plays Alyna Rivers in our show."

"Ah her," Bruce loosened up a little. "I get it, she's a piece."

Ewan cleared his throat loudly, his jaw clenching on instinct. "So, like I said, I'm with her. I'm sorry but this whole PR arrangement with Jenna wouldn't work."

"Look, kid, I want my movie to do well, alright? I got a lot invested here. This PR thing has proven to be highly bankable time and time again. If you don't trust me, I can ask the team to show you the data on all that. It's a lot of boring numbers, but shit, the numbers are never wrong."

"I don't need to see - "

"If you wanna be with your girl, you can, but you just gotta learn to hide it. Sweep it under the rug, you know. Don't canoodle in public, you crazy kids," Bruce offered, like that made things any better.

"You want me to hide my relationship?"

"Hey, now, come on. Word gets around. Isn't your girl also doing this exact same thing with Jacob Elordi?"

"Not anymore, I don't think," Ewan clarifies, "and that was... that was hardly anything. They weren't obligated to do it. It just worked by chance because they were both single for a time."

"Po-ta-to, po-tah-to." Bruce clicked his tongue before making his next point. "So you see how it works, your thing with Ortega won't be any different."

"Do I have a choice?" There it is, the defining factor.

Bruce smiled slowly. The calculating and menacing air about him intensified, and it was obvious he was not there to be Ewan's friend.

"It would be stupid to refuse something like this, kid."

Ewan's blue eyes flashed in return. None of this was ideal, but his nan raised him well, and he knew better than to falter on his values in times of trial.

"Sir, what's stupid is if you ask me to hide my real relationship for the sake of mere publicity for a film."

"Stupid you say?" Bruce sneered, having already discarded Ewan in his mind, his fragile ego bruised. "What a shame."

There wasn't much to say after that. Bruce was clearly not disinclined to reveal the ice that settled in his veins, and it dawned on Ewan that it had always been the case. There was no true hospitality here.

For bigwig casting director-slash-execs like Bruce, this was a transaction. And Ewan was not about to put what he has, or what he could have, with you on the line.

There has to be another way to advance his career. If not bigger productions, then at least those with less domineering producers.

"That is a shame," Ewan said, getting up from his seat. "I won't waste any more of your time, sir. Thank you for considering me."

Bruce's eyes darkened even further. "You're actually refusing me? For some girl?"

Another genuine smile formed on Ewan's face at the thought of you. Some girl.

But you're not just some girl. He nodded without a trace of doubt in his mind, before reaching out to shake Bruce's hand. "If you don't mind, sir... I have to go and see my darling."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Near the end of August

Los Angeles

The modern space sported a minimalist yet rustic feel, the interiors a blend of sterile white and sleek wooden surfaces. Very LA, as they say. The windowed walls offered plenty of light, as well as precious views of the valley below.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Donna," you greeted Ewan's publicist as she ushered you in her LA office.

"No problem at all, sweetheart," she said. "Please, have a seat. Would you like some coffee or tea? Ewan always has his coffee with way, way too much sugar. Mind you, if that kid wasn't active and boxing all the time, I'd be worried for his health."

You smiled fondly at her genuine concern. "Don't even mention the cigarettes."

"Oh, yeah," she scoffed, settling down on the chair across from you. She could have sat down at her desk, making the meeting more official, but Donna's always had a friendly and open way about her. "So, my sweet, how's your new movie coming up?"

You respond eagerly. The dialogue flowed freely, talking about your film and the lukewarm reception of season 2 of House of The Dragon. And finally, Ewan.

"I really thought he would get the Greta Gerwig film," you said. "Everyone said he was perfect for it. I think Greta herself had nothing but praises for him when they met on Zoom."

She sighed thoughtfully, "I thought so too. And, theoretically, he did have that one almost booked up. But there was an issue with one of the producers, which - I don't even want to get into that."

You shook your head, catching on whom she hinted at. "Donna, I heard... well, it didn't go too well in New York, didn't it? Ewan told me about it but... if you can tell me more, I just want to understand why - "

"Sweetheart," she offered a smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes, "you should talk about this with Ewan."

"I tried. But he wouldn't budge. Mallory told me... that it might have been because of me that he didn't get the role? And also why he's struggling to get roles now? Donna, I... I can't have that."

It took some time for her to formulate a response. She didn't want to step in something that's none of her business. Your relationship with Ewan is yours. But when his career is on the line, she supposed that she needed to have some say in that.

"He met with this top producer in New York. This real old money Hollywood guy. For decades, he's built careers for the greats, you know - Pitt, DiCaprio, Theron, and whatnot. There was a franchise project practically offered to him on a plate, but Ewan refused, because a non-negotiable was that he would have to hide you in favour of a PR arrangement with his leading lady."

You swallowed, the weight of the truth making itself clear. "Couldn't he have just done the movie without that?"

"You would think," she grimaced, "but some producers... when they want something, they have to get it. And well, Bruce wasn't lying, that would have sold the movie well."

"I thought we were past this," you expressed sadly. "I understand how PR relationships work. Just recently, I found myself kind of in the middle of one. But there was no pressure, it wasn't forced on us, and it was meant to be all in good fun."

"I know, sweetheart," she insisted, reaching out to squeeze your hand. "Bruce is an outlier now. Most of the time you do get lucky, with an all-around supportive production team, just like with your project with Elordi."

You hummed in agreement on that positive note, but your mind kept drifting back to Ewan.

Donna continued, wrapping up her story, "but Bruce is still here, and he still has a lot of power. But you know, it'll be fine. Ewan's got such a huge fanbase and so much talent that it'll only be a matter of time before something else knocks on his door."

You wanted to share her sense of optimism, but something ate at you. What else will Ewan have to sacrifice just to be with you? This was his dream, his one dream, and you were standing in the way. How much longer before he is offered another project but he refuses to take it for your sake? Your thoughts blurred together, bordering on irrational, but you couldn't help it.

All you could picture was the unabashed sincerity on his face, that sense of wonder, when he told you that acting had always been his dream.

Being tied down to you, this early in his career, would surely only hurt him. And you don't think you're worth it.

"Ewan loves you, sweetheart. Anyone with eyes can see that," Donna said after a while, heeding the storm brewing in your expression.

He loves you. It was true.

Less than a month in, and you've already found yourself with a love that you've never felt before. And perhaps never will again.

And that was the problem.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Late September

The podcast moderators are overly welcoming, if not a little loud for Ewan's taste.

The BBC podcast is called Loose Ends, and it's one of the first things Ewan agreed to take on upon returning to England.

He had wanted to head straight home to Derby, to bury himself in his heartache and bitterness, but the team for the show tapped him for a couple more promotional stints, riding on the high of the season finale. And who better than Ewan to offer to the media, the undeniable fan favourite.

Clad in an old gray shirt and blue jeans, people would think he just rolled right out of bed. He didn't really have the motivation to put in more effort. The only striking thing about him is his newly bleached head of hair, supervised by his stylist for a photoshoot a few days ago.

It was ironic, the timing of such a change. Ewan knew that if word got out that you dumped him, he would never hear the end of the joke of that being the reason for his hairstyle change, typical of all heartbroken sods.

Everyone bursts into laughter when he tells them about his mum's reaction to his nude scene. It feels like going through the motions, and he must have been so out of it, so forlorn, that his team prepared an outline for him prior to the interview. The questions and answers all pre-agreed.

Make them laugh. React as required. Remember to speak when spoken to. The mantra goes on in his head.

And don't think about her.

An impossible task, worsened when a moderator goes off script and asks, "Now it wasn't me who saw this, as I'm not on social media myself, but one of our interns did mention that you ventured into Instagram recently? Is that true?"

Oh fuck.

"Mmm, yeah, I guess," Ewan laughs nervously, his hand massaging the back of his neck in a self-soothing motion.

"And your first post went viral? What can you tell us about that? Our listeners would love to know."

"Uhhhm - " He remembers that the broadcast is live, and he can't exactly ask them to edit this part out, so he quickly settles for something indirect. Inconclusive. Safe. " - did it go viral? I'm not too sure how that thing works. I haven't used any kind of social media before."

"Apparently it did! And it had to do with the subject featured in that photo, Ewan. Your costar - "

"Mmm," Ewan stops him there, "didn't you say that you don't use Instagram?"

"No, I think I'm too old!" The moderator laughs.

"It's insane, that whole thing," Ewan shakes his head. "I don't know how to handle it. I'm logged off most of the time."

"Oh, you log off?"

"Yeah, yeah, helps me keep my focus, you know. Keep calm and all that."

"It can get frivolous, can't it?"

Ewan hums in agreement, and thankfully, the moderator moves on to his last question. One that does not breach the subject of you.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Another day means yet another media stint for Ewan, this time for Now TV.

Still in London, his stylist Davey and the rest of the team prepare him for a day of brief interview clips, to be posted on the social media pages of the company.

Davey had half-joked about Ewan needing even more concealer than usual, the shadows under his eyes having significantly deepened after the breakup.

Some of his team have gotten wind of what happened. They would curiously ask about you, how often Ewan keeps in touch with you while you're on set...

You must be on FaceTime everyday!

Is it hard to be doing long-distance so soon?

Do you miss her? Is that why you're not getting any rest?

...but Ewan would only laugh uncomfortably, dismiss it by bringing up another topic or shifting the attention to someone else, or excuse himself to go for a smoke.

He'd been drowning himself in cigarettes and caffeine during the day, pint after pint in the nighttime. Aimless.

He is coping. He knows how it must look, but he deserves this. He deserves to drift for a while. It's the only thing he can do to keep himself from jumping on the next flight to Atlanta and begging for your hand back.

You said you love him. You did. He hangs on to it like a beacon in a storm. No matter how pointless it may seem, with you choosing someone else over him.

Work is becoming something of an anchor, something that keeps him from spiralling. He's an actor, and he has always wanted to be an actor. People now have expectations of him, and he will answer the call.

The interview session begins with generic questioning, stuff he's answered before on several occasions.

How special is the bond between dragon and rider?

What is a funny moment from set that you can share?

How similar are Aemond and Daemon?

All safe. He's proud of himself for not breaking mental clarity thus far. You're in the back of his mind, dormant as a memory, and not something looming darkly over him. For a while, at least.

But then he is asked, If you could invite any 5 people to a Ewan Mitchell dinner party, who would you pick?

"Matthew McConaughey - "

You.

" - Bruce Lee. I think they could strike up an interesting conversation - "

Your name echoes in his mind, and he can't control it.

" - Andrea Riseborough. She's just a chameleon, like in any role she undertakes -

You have great taste. Even if you would make him eat spicy food again, he'll take it. He'll endure anything for you.

He's stumped for a second, lump in his throat, and his effort in avoiding you leads him to mention someone who will always be a comfort to him.

" - Maybe my nan, because I miss her -

Your name. He has to say your name. Who else? Think of someone else.. but who else? Who would be better?

" - and then, another person. Let's make it from the show... it would be Alyna Rivers."

"Oh really?" The interviewer asks. She's not really meant to respond in this instance, but she knows that the fans would go crazy about any mention of you or your character, so why not jump on this opportunity? "Can you tell us why you chose her?"

"Uhhm, well, she's just an amazing character, you know, fiercely loyal, beautiful, tenacious," Ewan replies easily, "so yeah, she would make for good company."

It is obvious that he is describing you just as much as he does Alyna Rivers, and no doubt, the fans will catch on to this detail.

Later, he's asked about his favourite part about season two, and he duly answers, "Seeing more of Aemond and Vhagar's bond and how that perhaps have gotten stronger. Aemond has definitely reined her in, after the accident at Storm's End."

Then, "There are some new additions to the show. Do you have a particular favourite?"

Another obvious piece of bait. And he takes it, he doesn't care anymore. What's the use of denying the truth?

"A favourite new character? Oh, well, uhmm... I really do like Alyna, and I think I've said before that Aemond and her are quite similar in a sense that they both know what they want and how to achieve it. It's just a shame they're on opposing sides, because if those two get together... " he trails off, leaving it up to the audiences to fill in the rest of the thought.

And they eagerly do. The clips where Ewan mentions Alyna get the most traction, flooded with comments that more or less talk of the same thing -

We know why you chose Alyna, Ewan. We know your ways.

He could have said Alys. Or Gwayne. Or even the ghost of Daeron ffs. But nooooo.... it's Alyna Alyna Alyna 😮‍💨

I wonder if she's there behind the scenes

yeah shes definitely lurking in the background!

Aemond and Alyna better have at least a scene together in season 3!!!!!

Someone kidnap Ryan Condal and make him write this

Ewan doesn't see any of it. Not that he's missing out, because he soon feels the need to call his younger cousin to ask her how to turn off his notifications on Instagram.

Day in and day out, his one single post gets dozens of new comments and likes, a brutal reminder of what he's lost. He could just delete it, and get rid of his profile entirely, but he hates to imagine the discourse that would follow.

All the invasive allegations and rumours. So he leaves it be. It makes no difference to him now. Let people believe what they want.

To his chagrin, he finds himself scrolling on his home page once in a while. The addictive element to it was true, and for him, it's exacerbated because the things he sees are often related to you.

Photos of you from fanpages and news accounts. Ones where your friends have tagged you. It's a toxic habit, looking through it all, but he can't help himself.

Then one day, as he's slouched on the seat in his London apartment, phone propped on his knees, he sees a cutout photo of his face on the corner of the screen. He clicks on it, and it's an image of him interposed among different posts. Posts which he apparently liked.

"Oh for fuck's sake," he cusses at himself, reading the caption.

Boyfriend lurking? - Ewan Mitchell may play a formidable TV villain, but in real life, he's just like us. Click on the link in bio to see his series of liked posts!

Dread takes root in him, followed by self-loathing. Why couldn't he just keep off this bloody thing? He takes to the comments to see what he has allegedly liked on accident and it's predictably photos of you - you at a premiere, stills of you as Alyna, and even, heavens fucking forbid, a behind the scenes shot of you getting pretty close with Jacob Elordi on the set of your film.

He vividly remembers seeing that last one, because he went on a bender after coming across it.

Cursing himself and his wayward, sticky fingers, he exits the app and deletes it from his phone.

Whatever goes on there, whatever people might leave on his profile, he washes his hands of it.

He calls up several of his mates, asking them if they want to come over for a few drinks.

"Again, Ewan?" one of them exclaims. "C'mon, you gotta take a breather, mate."

"I don't need a breather." I need her.

"Ewan - "

His composure breaks, all his damned frustrations rising to the surface, and he confesses, "I wonder if she thinks about me."

"Hang in there, mate. We're coming over."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

October

The director finally yells a satisfied, "Cut!"

It's only taken a good twenty-something takes for you and Jacob to nail a challenging scene. You had been on a roll since the beginning of the shoot, the last few weeks seemingly a breeze on paper, though it's a constant struggle to keep it together.

You've had to quell your internal dialogue so it does not stray to him. His smile. The feel of his skin against yours. His way of subtly picking up on details, and doing sweet things that surprise you as a result.

But you received word just before the scene that a few of your friends have come to visit, waiting back at your trailer - Phia, Fabien and his girlfriend, Bella.

And so, as if on instinct, Ewan is all you can focus on, every repressed memory of him rushing in like a tidal wave.

Do they know? What could you possibly say to justify what you did? You can only hope he took on that project, to give you a bitter sense of vindication.

It's the only thing that keeps it all the bay, the only thing that keeps you from jumping on the next flight to England and grovelling at his door.

Phia has her arms wrapped around you the moment you open the door to your trailer, loudly squealing, "I missed you!"

You sink into the hug, comforted by her presence.

As well as the fact that she represents some connection to Ewan.

Phia, Helaena. Helaena, Aemond. Aemond, Ewan.

It's a sick game to play, but it's what you have.

"Hey, yous," you hug Fabien and Bella in turn. Not long after, you're all lounging on director's chairs right outside your trailer, enjoying a bit of sun.

"How's our big Hollywood star?" Phia quips, her lips curling in her trademark pleasant upturn.

"Hardly a star," you shake your head fondly. "More of an indie darling."

"Of course, of course," she relents, before going on a monologue about how she's been keeping tabs on your project, how she just adores the costume designer whom she spoke to at length while you were working, and how the rest of the cast is rooting for you.

The rest of the cast.

"Ah, are they?" you ask, making a conscious effort to not simply blurt out his name. What does he think? Has he mentioned you at all?

Do they know?

Do they secretly hate you for what you did?

"Mhmm, right Fabs?" she says.

"Oh, definitely." Fabien agrees right away.

"How's your film? Are you done shooting in Philly?" you ask him.

"Just about done, but I think we're doing some final reshoots next week. I'm just glad my girl's here to visit," he slings an arm around Bella, who smiles and leans closer to him.

You smile at the sight, but it visibly falters. Ewan could be visiting you on set right now, just like Bella with Fabien, if you hadn't fucked it all up.

They notice.

"Love," Phia sighs, her tone softening. "I just want you know - we want you know - we're here for you, okay? No matter what you went through with... " A pause. Like saying his name would open up the floodgates.

Your gaze falls to your lap in shame. You pick on invisible lint on your trousers. Bite your lip. Breathe deeply.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

"So you guys know, huh?"

"Well, more or less," Phia says. "I just spoke with... Ewan... recently. He's back in Derby for the time being, and he's - "

"He's a bit rough," Fabien says firmly. He's not taking sides here, but he's heard from Ewan, and he feels the need to have his mate's back. "Look, I don't want to pry, but what happened? It seemed like you guys were doing so well together!"

"You don't have to tell us," Phia adds, shooting Fabien a look. "But if you want to, we're here to listen. We love you both and we just want to help, love."

You feel your eyes welling up. Leave it to Phia to be oh so sweet. You can't lie to them, you don't want to. Even if you did, they would see right through it.

Your friends know you too well.

"I... I miss him."

Phia squeezes your hand, and the whole story is about to spill out of you when you hear your name being called.

It's your assistant Clara, letting you know you're needed back on set.

You swallow back tears, standing on your feet, trying to maintain enough composure so you can grant yourself access back to your character.

"Go do your thing, superstar," Phia smiles comfortingly. "We'll be here when you're ready."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

November

"I'd like to propose a toast," Tom declares out loud in the empty pub, "to Ewan, Hollywood's new elf... Lord? Prince? Ah sod it, cheers!"

Round the table, Ewan, Fabien, Luke and Elliott all raise their pints with a collective, "Hear, hear!"

The pub has been cleared out for the lads, thanks to a favour called in by the twins, with the owner being their gym buddy and good friend.

"Thank you," Ewan replies, smirking. "I am your new elf prince, address me as such."

"Your ears have never been pointier, mate," Luke quips.

After a month of moping back home in Derby, or recovering as Ewan prefers to put it, he got a call from his manager telling him that the offer from Bruce still stands.

Apparently, the production team for the movie still had him tapped as the prime choice for the lead. After observing his audience metrics and overall viability, they decided that the movie would fare the best with him in it.

They had planted some half-baked announcements in the media, stating that it was Ewan against Joseph Quinn and Manny Jacinto for the role, and the fan reaction veered in Ewan's favour by a landslide.

Even though Bruce had an unsavoury word or two to say about him, he was willing to work past it, so long as Ewan would be more amenable to his demands.

After careful deliberation, Ewan chose to throw caution to the wind, and accept the role. So what if he has to pretend to have a real-life romance with Jenna? This is what you wanted.

"I'm glad you finally came out to see us, mate," Fabien says. "It's been a while."

"Yeah, fuck's sake. Remind us never to break your heart! That was tough to witness, you hunkerin' down out there all mopey and whatnot," Elliott laughs.

"Mmm." Ewan takes a swig of his beer to hide the wince he couldn't hold back. His friends, and most of the cast know by now, not in too much detail, of what went down between the two of you.

A typical short-lived romance of two actors. A summer fling. Most of them would look back and only see it as that.

Even though it was so much more. Even though Ewan still recalls how warm and soft and beautiful you felt as you whimpered underneath him, the loss of you as painful as getting hit by a freight train.

The liquor helps. Burying himself in work helps. Denial... well, that certainly helps the most.

When he goes out to the back garden for a smoke break with Fabien, he tricks himself into believing it's mere curiosity that compels him to say, "Phia mentioned that you guys went to Atlanta."

Fabien is rendered off guard, because he knows what's coming. "Yeah, we did. Bella came with us too. She was visiting me on set," he says, measuredly.

"Mmm." A long drag, a flick of ash towards the ground, an unaffected shrug - and eventually, with as impassive of a tone as he can muster, Ewan asks, "So how is she?"

Fabien smiles knowingly. "She's doing great. Her film's looking pretty good." He's privy to the truth, after he and Phia managed to gently coax it out of you over several martinis at a hotel bar in Atlanta. But he doesn't think it up to him to reveal that to Ewan, out of respect for your privacy.

While he might not share your sentiment, he thinks it's not in his place to tell Ewan that you basically lied for his sake.

But that doesn't mean he won't drop a helpful nugget or two.

"You know, I don't exactly know what's going on... but her and Jacob came across as nothing more than friends."

Ewan's hand freezes mid-air, the cigarette inches from his lips. He loathes the sense of hope that immediately bloomed in his chest. He's so bloody easy. One miniscule hint, and his delusions break through the wall of indifference he worked so hard to build.

"She said she has feelings for him," Ewan stresses, trying to convince himself. What was the fucking point of all this... this pain... if you never did?

"Hey, mate, I dunno," Fabien puts his hands up, "just telling you what I saw."

"It doesn't matter." It does. "She ended it." He wants you back, he will always want you back. "It's better this way."

"Is it?"

Ewan doesn't answer. He doesn't know how to, without grossly embellishing the truth.

Fabien watches his friend, sensing his hesitation as he averts his gaze. One thing becomes clear to him - you and Ewan are far from being over.

So he says, "She misses you, you know."

Ewan regards him with a stony look, one that slowly softens to reveal the broken boy inside. For but a moment, before he clears his throat and throws the butt of his cigarette on the ground.

"Let's head back inside."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

December

You're back in London, as production for your film is paused for the upcoming holiday season.

Work is supposed to be the last thing on your mind, but it just so happens that your manager has you booked for a chemistry read for a yet undisclosed film.

Phia came over to your apartment, insisting that she help you get ready. When you asked how she found out about your audition, she was quick to say that she was up for the role as well but didn't think it was right for her.

"Why not?" you ask, as she hovers over you, patting blush on the apples of your cheeks.

"Oh, you just get a feel for these things."

"Phi, it's just a chemistry read," you say, when she reaches for the mascara. "I don't need to get all dolled up for this."

She gasps, "Oh, but this is showbiz, darling. We always have to put a face on."

"Fine," you relent. "Do your worst."

The makeup she ends up doing on you is minimal, but it enhances your features just the right amount. You rush through your final preparations, folding up the script sample you were given and stuffing it in your purse.

Phia stands out on your balcony, in the middle of a call. The window screen is slightly open, so you hear snippets of the conversation as you walk by.

"Is he ready?" she asks. Who's he? You assume it's the guy you are doing the read with.

You don't know about him, but you are ready, so you stick your head out to say, "I gotta go, Phi."

"Oh!" She startles a little, angling her phone away. "Already?"

"Yeah, the read's at 4, I believe. Just lock the door when you leave, 'kay?"

She hurriedly whispers something to her phone, presumably ending her call. "I'll actually head out with you," she grins. "My work here is done anyway."

"Any plans for the night?"

She shrugs, "Might meet with Tom and Martha."

"Oh, why don't I meet you guys after my thing?"

"Uhhhm," she chews on her lip, thinking. Under her breath, you barely hear her mumble, "... hoping you'd be busy."

"What?" A restrained chuckle escapes you, confused as to why she's being so coy.

"Nothing," she tilts her head. "We can meet if you'd like."

The weird exchange is out of your mind when you arrive at the casting agency. You run the scene through in your head as you walk in the building, up the elevator, down the long hallway.

It's a heartfelt scene, if not a little tense, a dialogue between reunited ex-lovers.

Your manager Polina and publicist Mallory greet you at the doors, swiftly briefing you before directing you in.

"They're waiting, just walk right in, doll," Polina says.

"Okay, wish me luck!" You have your hand on the door handle when Mallory strangely remarks, "Don't hate us, sweetheart!"

"Why would I - "

"Go, go," Polina guides you in, then shuts the door behind you.

The office sports an spacious and open layout, with plenty of natural light streaming through large windows. The primary workstation is partially hidden behind a subtle partition. You see silhouettes of a few people behind it, so you walk down that way.

The figures reveal themselves soon enough - the casting agents you recognise as Patrick and Amie, sitting in front of the actor you're meant to read with.

A range of emotion washes over you, but you don't even have time to reckon with them. The casting agents divert your attention from Ewan, as they approach you with wide smiles in greeting.

"So nice to finally meet you!" Amie croons. "Take a seat. You two already know each other, of course. Between us, there won't really be a question of chemistry here."

"Right?" Patrick adds, looking between you and Ewan. "The fans sure think so, and we have to say we already agree."

"So just give us a minute to set up," Amie says. "Then we'll start."

You smile stiffly, settling down on the opposite end of the couch. You keep your gaze straight, trying to keep your attention on Patrick as he sets up the camera. Your heartbeat races the entire time, and you feel your hands getting clammy.

"They're all in on it," you hear Ewan say, prompting you to finally look at him directly. You take him in hungrily, admiring his outline, ever so handsome with his Targaryen-blonde hair and black leather jacket.

A weak "Mmm?" is all you can muster.

"Our teams, Tom, Phia... they set us up. Tom came over and I overheard him on the phone with Phia."

"Oh," you mumble. He doesn't even spare you a glance, leaning on the armrest on his side of the couch. He looks as if he'd rather be anywhere but here, next to you, and it hurts.

It's what you deserve.

"Is this not a real chemistry read?" you ask meekly.

"I suppose it is," he laughs humourlessly, "but it's not a coincidence that you and I just happen to be the only ones scheduled for today." He turns to you, giving you a critical sideways glance. "Didn't see that coming, did you?"

"I... I can leave if you want - "

"Mmm," his brows furrow, "you do seem to be good at that."

You look away. He is not being fair, but you weren't neither, that wretched night back in September.

And he is making you pay for it now.

But then you hear him speak in a softer tone, "Stay."

Stay. When you look at him once more, his attention is entirely on you, arm outstretched on the couch like he just tried to reach for you but decided against it.

Stay, he asked. So you do.

It's what you should have done, months ago.

"Okay, guys. Whenever you're ready," Amie says. She and Patrick take their seats in front of you, with the camera on a stand between them.

The script crinkles on your lap as you hold it with shaky fingers. "It's been a while," you read out your opening line.

The dialogue plays out twisted and ironic, now that you know who your scene partner is.

"Hardly," Ewan responds in character. "I feel like no time as passed."

"Feels like a lifetime."

He pauses, then sighs, "Do you even miss me?"

"How... how can you even ask me that?"

"How can I - "

"Why didn't you... why didn't you fight for me?" your voice breaks, the lines hitting a bit too close to home.

"You're a fucking hypocrite," he spits with venom. "You weren't exactly giving me anything to fight for."

"I did it for us. I did it all for us." If you didn't feel like crying at the weight of the scene, you would have rolled your eyes at the similarities.

"Like I said - nothing to fight for."

"Nothing? So you're telling me I was nothing to you."

"No," he levels you with an icy look, "you were everything to me. Everything. But you left me behind, and for what? So you can run off with the rebel sect?"

"The mission needed me. You wouldn't understand." You feel a sense of relief when the sci-fi elements roll in, otherwise you might have given in to your emotions and sobbed right there on the damn couch.

"I needed you," Ewan says, eyes not leaving yours. "I needed you and you abandoned me, just like that."

"And are you not better for it? When I left, did they not make you General?"

"See, that is the difference between you and I," he says coldly. "I wouldn't have traded what we had for anything - no position, no amount of wealth, no glory... I would have chosen us every time."

"Aaand cut!" Patrick jokes, effectively breaking the tension.

The two of you have unconsciously drifted closer, now only a foot part. Ewan does not drop your gaze, watching you closely. You see his eyes flit down to your parted lips, and he leans in almost imperceptibly.

"Alright, how about we go one more time?" Amie says, diverting your attention. "Give us a different take, and then that's it!"

Ewan settles back on his end of the couch. When he reads his lines again, his tone is harsher and he no longer meets your eyes.

Patrick and Amie commend you both afterward, singing praises about your acting abilities. Ewan is polite as always, blushing and grateful, but he practically dashes out of the door when the meeting finishes.

You're left standing with Amie, as Patrick has taken to his laptop to file the footage.

"The way he looks at you," she sighs dreamily, referring to Ewan. "You'd think the sun shone out your arse, doll."

"He... he was just in character," you disagree. "He's a good actor, as you know."

"Yeah, I mean, he nailed the part's rancour perfectly. But his eyes - oof - you've got a good one there."

Oh. Of course they would still assume you and him are together.

How desperately you want it to be true.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

An hour later, you've just sent Phia a text saying - You owe me. Where do I meet you guys?

But you hear a knock on your apartment door. If you didn't buzz anyone in, it can only be a neighbour or someone the doorman recognised.

Someone familiar to you.

And it's him.

"Ewan?"

"I need to speak with you."

You step aside so he doesn't linger at your doorway. He walks past you, a welcome if not unexpected presence in the room.

You can't decipher his expression, his gaze angled downward as he leans against your kitchen counter.

When the silence becomes almost deafening, you laugh awkwardly, about to make some silly remark on whether he is still in character. But he doesn't let you diffuse the tension.

"I want you," he blurts out without warning. "God help me, I still want you. I think I might have a fucking problem because how can I... after what you did - " A momentary glance of betrayal, but you see the spite clear in his eyes. " - but I do. I can't get you out of my system."

"I'm sorry - "

"I don't need that," he says sharply. "I don't need your sorry. I need you. I need to have you, and maybe this way, I'll satisfy whatever pointless desire I still have in me."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying - I'm asking - will you let me have you?"

"Ewan, I don't under - "

"I'm saying that we should sleep together," he says bluntly, and it feels like the rug has been pulled from under your feet, "but only just. You won't be mine, and I won't be yours."

"You're kidding."

He shakes his head, before adding, "Don't worry. It'll be our little secret. To the rest of the world, I'll have a different girlfriend anyway."

His words register, along with the bitter ache at his words, that you won't be his, he won't be yours. This is purely for pleasure. There used to be love here, and now he just craves the comfort your body allows.

You'll be using each other.

You should refuse. This is not healthy; this is not how you move on. Can you even go back to being good friends after this? But also - what have you got to lose?

What, except for him, and for good this time?

What, except everything?

"So what do you say - " He closes in on you, and with every bit of malice intended, the name no longer possessing the sweetness it once held, he sneers, "- darling?"

💌 next chapter

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @livcookesgf @onlyrealjoy (continued ... )

Some notes in the margins...

Well well well... the transition from friends to lovers to strangers to angsty FWBs sure is a slippery slope!

The time jumps are so we get through the moping quicker! It's mostly back to the regular shenanigans in the next part. Only, you know, angst-ridden. But you hurt Ewan, reader. *wags finger* Don't say you didn't expect this switch! Tsktsk

So what now - will you accept this arrangement? Will things ever be truly okay? Part 7 is going to be hot and hilarious and stupid and messy, just as the doctor ordered.

Let's hash it out in the comments, shall we? 🗡💕

[moneymasnn]

Right Timing | Charles Leclerc

Notes: 11k words of Charles and y/n pinning for each other…your all (hopefully) going to love it xx

this is my first post in about 6 months and I'm so happy to be back! thank you all for the continuous love and support I fucking love this app. this fic hasn't been proof read but oh well, ignore some spelling mistakes, sorry. anyways... ENJOY!!!

Blurb: One where you have a huge crush on your best friend's brother, the one and only charles leclerc, since you were a teenager, with him continuously telling you he was too old for you and you had no chance. You eventually gave up hope and moved on. But did charles? (Best friends brother troop/ slight enemy’s to lovers troop/ Older boy and younger girl)

Warnings: lots of angst, crying, sad y/n and sad Charles. lots of arguments and slight nsfw? but not really. Small age gap.

11.1k words

Arthur leclerc, your best friend since nursery… Your favourite partner in crime, your favourite laugh on a bad day, your favourite person in the whole wide world. Best to be described as home, your comfort person. He was the voice within reason, all that was right in the world. 

He's your best friend.

Y/n y/l/n, she was truly and utterly his favourite thing about the world. He counts his lucky stars he has her to help him carry his weight. Y/n was the only person Arthur let visit him when his dad died, and in his books, that made her alright. Sure she would make him want to scream and cry and punch walls, especially with her choice in men. But Arthur was always there for her, when she needed to laugh or to cry he knew what it was she needed at any given moment, he could read her like she was his favourite book. 

She was his best friend. 

—

How it started:

A little girl with puffy red cheeks sat at the bottom of the nursery playground. Her legs crossed on the green summer time grass as she sniffled again, gently plucking a daisy for the ground before adding it to the daisy chain she was making. She liked to say she enjoyed her own presence, but truly she was distracting herself from the lack of company. With the other young girls teasing her for her wild curly hair, she willingly chose to be sat on the grass of the playground alone.

“Hey! Can you teach me how you did that? I wanna make one for my mum!”

And with no regard for her personal space he sat down next to her on the grass, squashing half of her daisy chain, but she didn't tell him that.

He didn't care that she was crying or that she had poofy hair or that she was even a girl, he was eager to learn her talents and carry on with his lunch break.

But when Arthur noticed the signs that the girl was rather shy and sad he thought he would stay with her for the rest of lunch, keep her company.

Little did she know this company wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

And at age five, the pair promised to be friends for life.

It didn't take long for them to get their mothers talking, and after that it was set in stone, playdate after playdate. Arthur's mum became your mum's hairdresser, so there were many nostalgic memories for the two in the salon, especially when y/n would accompany her mother to her appointments. The pair's best memory is y/n letting Arthur cut her hair in the storage cupboard of his mum's shop. The horror on both parents' faces when one of y/n's pig tails were held in the hand of the young boy.

Their friendship only bloomed from there…

After spending almost every weekend watching Arthur and his older brother race in karts in the rain, to spending most afternoons around the leclerc residence playing with Arthur on his xbox, the girl felt like family.

When she was young she always found herself drawn to the middle leclerc. He was away a lot of the time, karting. He was slightly older so no doubt he found the pair childish and would always moan when he was made to spend time with them.

Charles' mother was the first to figure out your little crush on the boy. She first noticed it when you joined the family on a winter skiing trip, you were around thirteen. It was your first time up in the mountains, so when your arms started to wave and you felt your body lean way too far back Charles did the only morally right thing, dropping the glove he was putting on and outstretching his body to catch you in time.

He didn't catch you in time. 

Instead his heroic act to save you turned into humiliation when he realised you had taken him down with you.

Pascal carefully watched as you turned around, her eyes glued to yours that were glued to her sons. She watched your tinted red cheeks as Charles scoffed and begged you to get off of him as his bare hands were now engulfed in the thick snow, causing him to suffer with a cold for the rest of the holiday.

Your eyes widened and sparked at the sight of him. You would gaze up at him like he hung the moon and the stars, an expression his mother would soon get used to as she watched you fall for her son over the next few years. 

Charles was older, and very uninterested. He didn't find your little crush as cute as everyone else did, the thought it made him look uncool. He would roll his eyes when you would grab his arm or duck when you would try to kiss his cheek. He hated when your families would go out for meals and you would sit next to him, or how you would call him after a race to congratulate him, no matter his result.

Charles always saw you as his little brother's best friend, nothing more and nothing less.

That was until your first boyfriend. A three year age gap wasn't that big of a deal as they all grew older. Charles found himself having mutual friends with his brother and would occasionally bump into Arthur and you at a party.

You were 16, you thought you had met the love of your life, an older boy, he was 18, around charles age who was now 19 and worming his way into f2. 

Arthur didn't approve of Joao. He knew you were trying to prove to charles that the age gap isn't that big of a deal after his brother had repetitively told you you were to young for him, but somewhere down the line you found yourself mesmerised by Joaos eyes and that was it for you, charles no longer rented the forefront of your mind.

Joao was great, at first. You knew he wasn't the love of your life, but for the moment he looked to play the role quite well, and you were happy. You just didn't expect it to end like it did, maybe age gaps do matter?

You were at some house party in the hills of monaco, some friend of Joaos. You were downstairs in the kitchen with Arthur as he watched you drink your body weight in alcohol. He could tell something was bothering you but he chose not to mention it. In all your years of friendship he knew you would come to him eventually. 

“Where is the lover boy anyway?” he spoke up.

Your lack of response is when Arthur clocked onto your boyfriend being the reason for your excessive drinking. Him ditching you, yet again.

You slammed down your empty red cup, wiping the dribble from your chin as you decided enough was enough and you looked for the presence of your boyfriend. 

Arthur bid you good luck on your travels as his attention was now turned to the girl he had been eyeing up across the room.

And with your liquid courage you stumbled around the party. The house was huge. Gigantic windows that draped around the whole house. Everywhere you looked was so picturesque, making you fall in love with Monaco more and more. From the kitchen window you could see the river of lights leading down to the beach front. From the other end you could see continuous hills leading up into the stary sky, tiny specs of light from homes probably just as big and fancy as the one you were currently standing in swarmed your vision, a far cry from the apartment you and your mother shared where your view was a brick wall to another apartment complex.

Your heels were rubbing the back of your ankles as your hands gripped the bottom of your dress pulling it down as it was miles too short as you made your way out to the garden.

And there he sat, on the steps leading to the lit up outdoor pool, your boyfriend. A skinny little blonde girl sat on his knee. She was older than you, clearly. She took the cigarette from his lips and placed it on her own as her other arm draped over his shoulder. It was like this week after week, it was like you were a ghost.

This isn't the young love you put out for, and you decided enough was enough.

You always forgave him, but tonight was different. This night changed everything.

Tears welled in your eyes as you turned back into the house, you were going home. Joao caught a glimpse of this as he jumped up and followed you back into the house, why he would always chase after you you still don't know.

“Y/n, baby stop.” you ignored the sound of his voice as you pushed through the crowds of people to get back to the kitchen in hopes that Arthur was still there. He wasn't.

You made it to the kitchen before he grabbed the back of your arm pushing you against the kitchen island. His hand came up to wipe away a fallen strand of hair as he tucked it behind your ear.

“Come on y/n i didn't even do anything-”

“She was on your lap.” your voice crooked, you so desperately didn't want to be the little girl everyone thought you was and cry, not in front of everyone anyway. 

“It's not that big of a deal-”

“It is that big of a deal! I'm humiliated!” you shouted back, creating a scene you so desperately wanted to avoid.

“I just- I just want to go home.” you said in between sniffles.

“Baby, don't cry, let's just go back to mine, okay? I'll call a taxi-”

“No, I want to go home, my home.” you begged, the tears were falling now.

His grip tightened around your arm as you tried to wriggle out of his grasp.

“I need to find Arthur, and I need to go home.” you said, pushing his arm as he still had you pinned against the counter.

“Oh come on y/n, drop the act you know you want to come back to mine.”

You threw your head back dodging his fingers that were trying to touch your hair again, avoiding his eyes.

“Joao let go, you're hurting me.”

That only made his grip tighten around your arms, pushing you against the counter even harder than before. As he leant down to your ear-

“She said let go mate.”

Your vision was too blurry to focus on what happened next, but you felt joao grip loosen as he stood back.

“Yeah and what are you gonna do about it, leclerc?”

That's when punches were thrown and Joao was hunched over holding his busted lip. Joao was grabbed by another person before he could lunge back at who you assumed was Arthur, but as you turned your head you saw a different leclerc shaking his hand. His knuckles were red, and his eyes were darker than the ones you were used to, charles.

“y/n get in the car.” he said, you stood up, sniffing and nodding your head. But then you remembered your missing friend.

“Arthur-”

“I'll get him. Get in the car.” his tone was strong, not what you were used to from the middle leclerc. 

You waited by his car in the cold for a few moments just before Charles came out the house, a stumbling tipsy Arthur under his arm. There was pink lip gloss smeared over his cheeks and lips, and at that moment you felt a small smile creep on your face. 

However, the car ride home was silent, you sat in the front with Charles, as Arthur passed out in the back seat. Faint french music played from the radio as charles eyes were firmly gripped on the road.

As you rounded the street to your home Charles finally spoke up, “You really know how to pick them.”

You sniffled again, unable to reply to him mainly because he was right and you were embarrassed. As the car came to a stop Charles undid his seat belt mumbling that he would walk you to your door.

He balanced on the back of his heels as he watched the moonlight highlight your tear stained cheeks. Charles thought you looked beautiful that night even though you had been crying for the last half an hour, your hair hadn't been brushed and you were rummaging through your purse like a mad woman, he still thought you were pretty. He would never tell you that though.

“Don't tell me you've lost-”

“Got them!” You giggled, shaking your keys in the air before whipping your nose for what felt like the fifth time that night. You stalled as you pushed the key in the door, turning to look Charles in his eye for the first time since the party.

“Thank you-” but he cut you off, not wanting to hear it. You were his brother's best friend, Arthur wouldn't forgive him if he ever watched you in a position like the one that night and didn't do anything.

“Dont.”

“No really, thank you, charles.” You smiled, Charles smiled too, mainly because it was probably the first time you had called him Charles and not charlie.

After a moment you dropped your bag on the floor and wrapped your arms around the boy's waist, your head rested on his chest as he hastily moved his hand and rubbed your back.

“Just make sure the next one isn't a total dick, okay?” he whispered, his chin placed on the top of your head.

He didn't know how much that sentence broke your little 16 year old heart.

You smiled and entered the house, Charles didn’t drive off that street before you waved at him out your window.

On the drive home we looked back at his younger brother, drooling on the back seat of his car. 

It was that night where he realised the both of you weren't all that different, but so far apart.

The first time Charles saw you after that night was a couple months later, a family day at the beach. You had turned seventeen in that time and joao was old news. But charles eyes were stuck on your body as he watched you sat in the sand on your own. Sipping from a bottle of beer that you most likely stole from his crate, your toes were dipped in the wet sand as you watched the sun set on your own.

Arthur had brought his new girlfriend with him and even though you were still as close as ever, Arthur's attention was stuck on the pretty blonde that was talking to his nan.

The rest of your families were distracted too, or so Charles thought. His mum watched him intently as he walked back to the car park, grabbing a spare jumper from his car before making way down the beach front to join you.

He spent so much of his life avoiding you, but after the night of the party he just wanted to make sure you were okay. 

He crouched down in the sand next to you, aware of how your eyes were on him. He placed the jumper on your legs,

“You're going to get a cold.”

You scoffed but complied. Putting the jumper over your head and pulling at the sleeves, it smelled like him.

“How are you?” you asked charles, he could feel your eyes staring into his side profile, but he stared at the sun setting over the monegasque sea.

“I'm okay.”

The boys lost their dad a little under a year ago now, you hadn't really seen Charles since. But he knew you hadn't left Arthur's side for them few months.

“How you holding up, really?” you nudged his shoulder with yours, he did his little signature smile before looking down at his lap. Avoiding the question.

“Thank you. For looking after Arthur I mean, he's lucky to have you.” 

“Charlie…”

He looked in your eyes this time, he looked so sad, so broken. So desperate for a hug. You didn't pressure him to answer your question, insted you gently placed your head on his shoulder looking along the coastline in silence.

Charles appreciated the silence and the way you didn't push him, moments like these he understood why Arthur loved you so much.

“It will be alright you know.” you hummed on his shoulder.

“I know.” Charles whispered back.

“Really, i can already see Charles leclerc, ferrari formula one driver. Your face will be all over Monaco, and we're all so proud. He'll be so proud.” 

Charles hated how much you believed him, because in that moment a nineteen year old boy with dreams bigger than the world itself everything felt impossible. 

“Don't forget about me when you're all big and famous, yeah?” you smiled up at him.

Charles looked down at you, his eyes were glossy but the smile on his lips was enough to melt your heart, he threw his head back in a laugh. 

“I dont think I'm ever getting rid of you.”

Now it was your turn to laugh, “at least your self aware charlie.”

After all the laughing he noticed how your eyes shifted from his own to his lips, and then he remembered why he was avoiding you in the first place.

“y/n..” he whispered, oh how he whispered your name in his little broken accent, your heart melted as he backed away.

“I know, I know.”

You smiled and placed your head back on his shoulders looking at the sun that was nearly gone.

“You know I'm too old for you, right?” Charles whispered as he leaned his head on yours that was resting on his arm.

“I'm in it for the long game leclerc.” Charles giggled as he let his cheek get comfy on your head, pushing his side into you as you fully watched the sun disappear over the sea.

On the night of your 18th birthday Arthur had taken you out to your first club, you drank, alot…

Charles happened to be at the same club, so when your drunk body collided with his you couldn't help but wrap your arm around his torso, clinging onto him.

He gently placed hand on the small of your back smiling as you leaned on him.

Charles was 20 now, soon to turn 21 and had just signed a contract with alfa romeo, he was officially in formula one. Even Though you were proud of him you missed having him around. 

You stood on your heels, leaning up to his ear as Charles met your movements and bent down to hear you better in the loud club and your heart fluttered at the small action of his ear hovering near your face.

“I'm eighteen now charlie.” he could hear the smile in your voice.

“I know, happy birthday mon amour.” kissing your forehead, this was the closest you had ever been to him before, and you craved more. He had never called you the nickname before, he was teasing you.

“I'm officially an adult nowwwww.” you longed out his ear before you hand palmed his cheek. You so desperately wanted to kiss him.

“Y/n.” His tone was serious as he caught onto your intentions.

“Y/nnn.” You teased him back, imitating his serious tone and rolling your eyes as you do so.

“I know you want to Charlie, come on…” you giggled at him, but you were drunk and a mess, so the arm around your waist was to stop you from falling flat on your arse not because he just wanted to touch you, you thought. You pushed his hand off you and stood up straight, Charles sighed as he placed his hand back on the small of your back, you looked up at him. The stupid little puppy dog eyes that he refused to listen to.

“I'm too old for you, love.” Charles' hand once again held you close as you started to lose your balance again, “and you're too drunk.”

“Drunk on love.” you exclaimed, Charles laughed, like really laughed and you couldn't help but admire the creases around his eyes. He moved your arm over his shoulder so he could hold you up.

“Let's find Arthur and get you home, okay?” but as Charles pulled away you pulled him back.

“I've waited eighteen years, Charlie, I'm sure I have the patience to wait a bit longer.”

Charles thought maybe you had forgotten that night, but you remembered the way his hand was filmy stuck to the small of your back most of the night, and how he lent down to hear you and how his stubble felt in the palm of your hand, and the butterflies only got worse. 

You were falling harder everyday and you hated yourself for it, he didn't like you back.

Charles carried on with his f1 career with alfa romeo that year and you took up a journalism degree, following around arthur as he navigated the world of f3. You would occasionally bump into Charles when the boys had races at the same circuit. 

But with his first Monaco race you obviously had to be there to support him.

Charles hated how his heart beat boomed in his ear when he saw you standing in his garage with your old ferrari cap on and an alfa romeo shirt with the number 16 on the back hugging your chest. 

You truly had blossomed into a beautiful young woman and Charles found it harder to stay away. Your hair isn't frizzy anymore and you had for sure gone through puberty, he didn't like to stare but he found it hard not to sometimes. Especially on family boat trips when you would wear a bikini in front of him.

The worst part is you hadn't even openly flirted with him in a while, and he couldn't seem to figure out why, and that bothered him so much more than he liked. 

The small little y/n that used to follow him everywhere, always latched to his arm, looking up at him with heart eyes. I mean, you weren't sixteen anymore that was sure, but Charles couldn't help but feel a sense of abandonment that you weren't head over heels for him anymore. 

Charles needed to snake off that weird feelling in his stomach.

You were now 19 about to turn 20, it was the off season and you couldn't wait to soak up some sun on the leclerc yacht. Your favourite summer getaway.

You drove up to the small paddock on a little beach and climbed onto the grey boat, it was charles’, of course. The whole family was there, you were talking to pascal as arthur pulled you around the side of the boat, nearly causing you to break an ankle.

“Erm hello? Watch it.” you scolded him for pulling you so ruffly.

“You're over the whole in love with my older brother thing, right?” he asked, his hand running through his hair.

“I- i why?” you said, clocking your head to the side at Arthurs panicked manor. He knew you had been doing great this year, and he also knew why you declined every single boy that had attempted to ask you out on a date this year. 

“Okay, erm,'' Arthur stood up straight and scratched the back of his head.

“Forget your stuff, let's just get off this boat. And er, don't turn around okay?” he tried to nonchalantly say, his hands gripping your shoulders were a dead give away something was wrong though.

You nodded your head and followed Arthur down the steps of the boat before stopping in your tracks.

“Since when have I ever listened to you? I going to read my book on the sun-”

Your mouth fell open as you turned around to be met with Charles, your Charles with a girl.

A pretty girl, beautiful actually, she was slim and perfect and her smile was enough to make you want to crumble in a ball. 

She was leaning on him, grabbing his bicep as her hand brushed through his hair, he was laughing like really and truly laughing at whatever it was she had to say and you had never felt emotions like the ones you felt in that moment.

You felt like he had personally ripped your heart out himself, no remorse, and had just served it back to you on a silver platter.

He really didn't want you. 

“y/n, i didn't even know he was bringing her i-”

“You knew?”

Arthur sighed before running his hands through his hair, “it's been around four months, mum really likes her, she's nice. I mean she's not you, but he's happy so i can't complain.'' Arthur shrugged his shoulders, not sure how to console you in that moment.

You turned away from the happy couple and sat on the small steps that lead down to the bottom of the yacht. Arthur sat down next to you, pulling your body into his as he wrapped his arm around you.

“What about me? When will I be happy?”

You hadn't realised you were crying until Arthur grabbed your arm and pulled you straight off the boat.

That was your wake up call, you had spent too much of your life waiting for someone that never wanted you. 19 years to be exact, a sad sad story to anyone that knew you. You were embarrassed and angry at yourself. 

You needed to actually move on. 

So that's what you did.

And that's when you met him, a young british boy, he was around your age and drove for a papaya team that shared the f1 grid with charles.

Lando norris.

He was 20, awkward, way too cocky for only his second year, and when you bumped into him in Bahrain of 2020 you chose him to be the one to make you move on.

He asked for your number a few races later and the two of you used to text all the time. He took you on cute picnic dates, asked if he could kiss you before he did, and overall was the kindest most respectful boyfriend a girl could ask for. You were actually happy, and it only took nineteen years.

It was imola when you bumped into Charles in the paddock, his brother wasn't here so he was confused as to why you were here, but then he saw the McLaren hat on your head and his eyebrows furred evenmore.

“y/n?”

“Hello, charles.” you gave him a tight lip smile before moving past him but he chased after you why you walked down the paddock strip. Past the ferrari garage.

“You're a McLaren fan now, huh?” 

“Yep.”

Charles' heart hurt at your bluntness, he grabbed your arm so you would stop walking and talk to him. 

“y/n.” serious charles. That stupid tone that usually made you freeze and obey whatever he had to say.

But this time you rolled your eyes and pulled your arm from his grip.

“Charles, I really have to be somewhere.” you lied, checking your watch.

“Like a journalism thing? Why didn't you tell me you were going to be here, you could have flown with me and Joris?” and Charlotte, but he didn't mention that.

You really tried to pull your eyes from the red drivers suit that was wrapped around his hips, he was a ferrari driver now and you had never been more happy for him. You just wanted to wrap your arms around him and tell him how proud you were of him. 

But right at this moment, you had never wanted to create more distance between you both.

“y/n?” 

Both of your heads snapped as Lando ran up to you, you coughed and took a step back from charles.

Landos arm wrapped around your shoulder as he put out a fist for Charles to spud. Charles' eyes were glued to landos arm resting on your shoulder and he could feel the blood pumping in his heart speeding up.

Lando kissed your temple and Charles' eyes were glued to yours. 

“Charles.” Lando smiled nodding his head.

“Lando.'' Charles' voice was laced with venom, not that Lando noticed. 

“So you guys are?” Charles' eyebrows furred pointing between you both.

“We havent you know, labelled it yet. It's still kind of new” you smiled, it had been months.

“But I'm happy, really happy.” Charles knew that was a message to him, you were happy and he needed to leave you be. But with Lando of all people, Charles couldn't seem to shake this one off.

Charles mumbled something about needing to be somewhere and walked away from you both. Lando again oblivious to the interaction as his arm stayed secured around you and he balabbed on about the race as you walked to the McLaren motorhome.

Charles hated him. 

Charles hated himself for his feelings.

He didn't know why he was so bothered, he had never been this bothered, nothing gotten to him like you and Lando just did. Joris told him maybe it was because he had a soft spot for you deep down, he joked that maybe Charles liked you back and Charles ignored him for the rest of the weekend at that accusation. But that didn't mean he didnt ignore his words. 

It was over, you grew up and he should feel relieved you've moved on, right?

He broke up with Charlotte a month later.

Charles scoffed when you first bought lando along to family night, he hated how your mum loved his accent and how arthur laughed at all his jokes. He hated that he hadn't caught your eye all night, instead your eyes were glued on the stupid little british boys. Charles hated it, he sat there like a toddler that hadn't gotten their own way all night. He knew it was wrong but he hated his feelings more than he hated lando being sat at his table.

Charles was in the kitchen, he was picking at the leftover pie on the table top as everyone else was outside fawning over one of landos stories, he had really charmed the family.

His mother walked into the kitchen as he was taking a bite of cherry pie looking like a caught child, she laughed at the cherry stains in the corner of his mouth and passed him a tissue.

The pair stood in silence for a moment before Pascal spoke up.

“That's definitely not allowed in your diet, my sweet.” she smirked knowing the driver's strict diet.

“But you won't tell on me maman.” Charles flashed his puppy dog eyes as his mum laughed at his actions. She sighed and moved closer to him as he stood up straight. 

“You have a lot on your mind my boy, and don't tell me you don't because I gave birth to you, I know you better than you know yourself.”

“Maman.” Charles sighed.

“This is about her isn't it?” Charles' eyes refused to look at his mother at her words.

“I don't even need to say her name, it's her, it will always be her.” she smiled as she walked over to her son and placed a hand on his cheek.

“She's happy, Charles.'' he heard the sternness in his mothers voice.

“So everyone keeps telling me.” Charles scoffed again.

“So then you know you're being an ass, right?”

Charles' eyes widened at his mothers language but she just laughed and waved him off.

“After all the years she spent pining after you, Charles, it would be cruel for you to not let her be happy.”

“But what if I'm not happy?” he asked his mum, she just sent him a sympathetic smile and grazed his cheek once more.

“Do you love her?”

“I dont know.” Charles shrugged.

“See, it would be cruel to break her heart over this kind of uncertainty. Either you love her or you're just jealous. You have a lot of thinking to do my boy, but don't do anything until you're really sure. She's fragile when it comes to you.”

Charles nodded his head.

His mum was right, he really did have a lot of thinking to do. 

And as if on queue there she was, walking into the kitchen, the widest smile on her face as she grabbed another beer from the fridge. She had started to let her curls rome free recently and it was sending charles’ heart into a spiral, with her stupid little shorts and crocs and no doubt she had conned lando into giving her his jumper. 

She used to do that to him, Charles thought, remembering all the times you had tricked him into stealing his hoodies. 

She smiled at Charles mum and told her again that the food was lovely, nodding at Charles, and she left just as quick as she came in.

“Maman, I'm so in love with her it physically hurts me.”

And there it was, the words you had so desperately wanted to hear your whole life, but you didn't hear a sound as Charles vowed to never say it again out loud. Your happiness came before his.

Charle suffered for a year, he knew he loved you, he had said it out loud once and the vulnerability he felt in that moment knowing you were stood just 15 feet away with the boy you were in love with was enough to make him swear to never voice his feelings again, he was embarrassed and wanted the world to swallow him whole. The worst part was the guilt, he could only feel like he had let one of the best things go, slip straight from his grasp all for a bit of pride. He didn't want to be seen with the young naive girl that had a crush on him, but now he just felt stupid. Stupid that he didn't recognise your love for him sooner, he had always thought you were one of the most amazing humans he had ever met, he found himself looking for you in other people when he didn't even know it. He was stupid, and he knew that for sure.

Charles dedicated the rest of the year to focusing on his f1 seat, with ferrari fucking him and sebastian over and over and after his wins at spa and monza he felt hungry for more and felt that the true love of his life should be formula one.

But his heart hurt when he didn't hear from you after his win in spa, and then it crushed him again when you didn't contact him after his result at monza.

No call.

Not even a text.

He had fully let you slip from his grasp.

It was a long year for Charles that year, and as summer break quickly approached he found girls and training were his favourite pastime. He stopped turning up to family events when he knew lando would be there and you were in love and happy. After a while it was a rarity he would even stay at an event for an hour.

He was 22 and as a new season started the only thing he was talking from lando was his teammate, not that charles was complaining. He liked Carlos, and he was ready to step up and take that 1st driver's seat. He was ready to make everyone proud just like you had promised him that night on the beach.

After a while charles mothers birthday rolled around, one he would definitely not miss as his mother requested a small family meal. Everyone was sitting, looking over the menu when Charles undoubtedly noticed the missing presence of you.

“Where's y/n?” Charles asked Lorenzo, who was sitting next to him.

Lorenzo just shrugged and turned his attention back to his menu, was it normal for you to not attend family outings? Charles hadn't been around for so long he didn't even think to consider that maybe she didn't turn up to these things anymore either.

“With Lando I suppose.” Charles murmured, he tried not to sound jealous but the older brother just laughed.

“Lando?” as he turned to his younger brother.

“Why would she- you really haven't spoken to her have you?” Lorenzo asked, his eyes widening at the thought of his brother being so dumb.

Charles just shrugged his shoulders as he urged his brother to continue.

“They broke up, a while ago actually.”

Charles didnt know why his shoulders felt lighter but he chose to ignore it and try to press some more information out of his brother.

“So? First break up, we've all been there, doesn't mean she can't be here for mamans birthday.'' Charles rolled his eyes as he tried to act like he didn't care.

“She's not even in the country charles.”

Charles' head snapped towards his brothers, “She's taking a gap year, last I heard she was staying in Australia for a while.”

Lorenzo could see the gears turning in charles’ head; he knew he wanted to ask more so he answered for him.

“Hey Arthur, where's y/n these days?” Lorenzo asked his other brother who was at the other end of the table with his girlfriend.

Arthur shrugged before answering, “Still in australia at the moment, she really likes it there, but i told her she cant like it to much because there's no way i'm sitting on a plane for twelve hours every time i want to actually see her face and not on a phone screen.” arthur joked, everyone else laughed along with him for a moment until charles countered up the courage to speak up.

“Why didn't she just travel with formula one? She wanted to be an F1 journalist anyway.”

Arthur's eyes narrowed at his brother. 

You definitely hadn't meant to cause it, but there was a small crack in between the brothers' relationship within the last year. Arthur definitely blamed Charles and his stupid effects on you for you running away.

“She wanted to be away from f1 for a while.'' Arthur told his brother like it wasn't the most obvious thing in the world, hoping to squash this table subject, not really wanting to talk about his run away best friend.

“I mean I don't blame her, especially when her Lando ended like it did. She's living her best life.” Carla, Arthurs girlfriend chimed in. Arthur slightly winced at his girlfriend's words not wanting this to be the dinner conversation tonight, especially when Charles clearly knew nothing about y/n's life within the last year.

“What?'' Charles asked the table, but no one answered him, instead everyone's heads were down dead planted down at the table, everyone except for Carla who had no idea what she had just started.

“Why did no one tell me what's been going on?” charles raised his voice slightly, catching the attention from everyone else on the table.

Charles mother intervened knowing where this was going, “charles, not right now-”

“No, she's been going through something and no one even thought to mention it? What the fuck.”

Arthur was visibly turning red, Charles noticed as Lorenzo's head was shaking telling his little brother now wasn't the time, pleading Arthur to just bite his tongue.

“Say it arthur.”

The flame was lit.

“And who do you think upset her in the first place, charles?” Arthur tutted, picking up his menu pretending to scan it so he didn't have to pay attention to the conversation anymore.

“Drop it, arthur.” Lorenzo sternly interrupted.

“Considering no ones told me anything how the fuck am i supposed to answer that question?” Charles spat back at his brother.

Arthurs cheeks were a visible red now, he was about to blow up. Something he had been holding in for a while. He slammed his menu down and turned to look at his older brother.

“You know what Charles, you have no right! No fucking right, sorry maman for the language-” charles mum just put her hands up in defence as she let her youngest son get it all off his chest. 

“She loved you, and you constantly broke her heart and told her no and then when she was finally happy in a relationship you had to go tell the world you love her so much that ‘it physically hurts you!” Arthur mugged his brother's words.

Charles was shocked, he had no idea what was happening. 

No one knew of his feelings towards you, no one except- charles head snapped towards his mother who pulled a tight lip smile and just shaked her head in a no. Charles was about to deny deny deny when-

“Yeah, she heard it. And it fucking broke her charles. It was mean and it was selfish, and I've never despised someone more than you for what you did to MY best friend.”

“Arthur-”

“I'm not finished. Then you have the decency to finally come to a family meal for the first time in nearly a year, nearly a year charles! And ask about her like you didn't completely cut her and us out of your life? You're selfish, completely and utterly selfish charles.”

Charles sat at the table pale, he felt the colour drain from his face as he scrambled to find the words to say but his mouth didn't open.

“You really do pick and choose your moments brother, I don't know why I even came tonight, I'm sorry maman but I told you I wouldn't be able to sit in a room with him.”

Arthur stood up, he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and took Carla's hand in the other.

“I'm really sorry maman, and everyone else, happy birthday, i guess.” Arthur gave his mother a hug and walked out of the restaurant with carla. Leaving everyone else at the table in pure shock.

Especially Charles, he had know idea what to say, he looked up at his mother opposite him who looked at him with sympathy.

“My sweet boy, I'm sorry to say it but there was some truth to your brother's words. I told you she was fragile.”

Charles felt awful.

Charles felt like he was going to cry at the table.

It had been a long year for Charles, he had groveld for the most of it, thinking you were happy somewhere while Lando flew you anywhere and everywhere around the world. Now he came to think of it, maybe there was a better reason for the young mclaren driver avoiding him.

He wasn't really friends with Lando, but his teammate, Carlos was close with the boy and whenever there was an offer for the three of them to hang out Lando magically had something come up and couldn't attend. 

It all made sense now. Even the fact he hadn't seen you in the paddock, he thought maybe you were caught up in your studies, oh how he was wrong.

He sat at the table for the rest of the meal, and with every passing comment he didn't think he could sink more into his chair.

He was an awful person, he thought.

When the family were leaving the restaurant Charles hugged his family members, swallowing the anxiety and embarrassment down.

He looked over at Lorenzo who sent him a sympathetic smile, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Tonight wasn't supposed to go like that, i told arthur to just drop it i-”

“No, it's okay. I deserved it.”

“I dont know, you fucked up, but you didnt need to run, nether did she.'' Lorenzo, his older brother shrugged.

“What happened? With her and lando." Charles pushed.

“alot .” lorezono chucked.

“I don't know if it's my place to-” enzo sighed at that stupid little puppy dog face his younger brother was pulling.

“I'm pretty sure she cheated on him, Arthur said as she fell into a bit of a hole. So the only thing she really could do was just leave Monaco for a while. She seems good, Charles, healthy and happy." Lorenzo shrugged, watching as Charles' eyes widened and he latched onto every word. 

“If it's any closure she's not mad at you, Arthur, well I'm sure he would be he loves y/n like a twin sister, but she's not mad at you. She was just confused and hurt.”

“If i call her-'' Charles started but his voice flattened as he realised it would ne dumb to contact you.

“Call her Charles, I'm sure she would be happy to hear from you.”

You knew what today was, arthur's molthers birthday. You had called her in the morning sending her your love and wishes, she told you that Charles was attending the meal and Arthur would be on his best behaviour, little did you know.

You wondered if Charles knew what you were up to, if pascal or lorenzo had been keeping him in the loop.

You were at the beach, cocktail in hand and book in the other, your earphones were in as you hummed to the faint sound of the music and read, but you were disturbed when the rigging was a call from your phone echoing through your earphones, charles.

Pick it up.

Pick it up.

You couldn't do it.

Your body froze in place, you pulled your airpods out, throwing down your book, not caring that you lost the page you were on. You took in a deep breath and picked up your phone, and just as your thumb hovered over the answer button, the ringing stopped.

He had called you?

You needed a moment to think about what you were going to say to him, what he would say.

You so desperately wanted to hear his voice, it had been a year, and you wondered if that was enough time for feelings to vanish.

You looked out at the calm seas for a moment, did you really want to fall back into a loop of pining for him like a puppy. You loved him, loved, past tense. You were a grown woman now, so you opened your phone and called him back.

Ringing.

“Hello?” his voice echoed through the phone.

“Charles?”

You heard his sigh of relief over the phone, and your heart melted all over again, he hadn't even spoken yet, but the closeness of his presence made it all too real.

“I'm sorry.”

He's sorry?

“Charles-”

“I'm sorry, okay. Arthurs right, I was mean and I was selfish and you deserved so much more than what I did to you. From the bottom of my heart y/n/n, I'm so so incredibly sorry.”

“It's- it's okay.” 

You forgave him.

“It's not.”

There was a silence that lingered for a moment.

“What I said, what you heard, it wasn't supposed to happen like that. I really didn't want it to happen that way.” he pleaded over the phone, his breathy voice echoing through the speaker.

“I want to see you.”

More silence.

“Please, y/n.”

“Okay.”

More silence.

“Soon, okay.” There was promise to your words.

“Soon.” he repeated, as though it was something for him to hold onto. 

Soon.

“When I'm ready Charles I'll come home, I'm just not ready yet.” you winced at your own words because you so desperately wanted to see him too.

“Then don't come home- i'll come to you, i'll catch the next plane if i have too just tell me where you are-”

“Charles, I'm not ready yet.” you interrupted him. 

Silence.

Charles wanted to cry, hearing your voice and knowing you were just within reach he wanted to see you, hold you, apologise as much as you would allow him to. He wanted to kiss you and hug you and love you forever, but you weren't ready.

“I'll wait for you, okay? Soon or not.” his voice cracked, and god did it melt your heart.

“I'll see you soon charlie.”

This was feeling a little too much like a goodbye for charles.

“y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“Am I too late?’

“Time doesn't apply when it comes to you.” and Charles had hope. He hadn't fully let you slip, yet.

Charles would now spend every waking moment wondering how soon was soon?

But after a while he figured ‘soon’ was a little long, three more months to be precise.

You had left Australia, travelled around more like you wanted to, and you came back to Monaco just before the end of the f1 season.

Charles was already in Abu Dhabi by the time you landed back in monaco.You had asked everyone to not tell him of your arrival.

You were sitting with Arthur in his mothers living room, just like the old days. You told him about your travels while he updated you on his love life and gossip in the paddock.

You had missed this.

And it wasn't until pascal passed you a warm cup of tea and sat with the two of you, sharing her own gossip from the hair salon you realised how much you were ready to be home again.

Arthur had run to his room quickly to grab his trophies to show you and as he walked out of the room your eyes lingered on the suitcases by the door.

“You're going to Abu dhabi?” you asked pascal.

“Tomorrow.” she smiled at you.

Pascal could visibly see the gears turning in your head, she placed a hand on your knee and smiled up at you.

“I don't want to pressure you y/n, and i know you just got back but you should consider it.”

You knew what she meant and you nodded at her with a small smile, and Arthur came back.

You went home a few hours later and sat in your room, if you go you'll see him, but you're going to see him at some point regardless. 

You felt vulnerable.

So completely scared, but that didn't stop you from texting Arthur that night telling him you were going to join him and his family tomorrow.

You were going to see him.

Your time was up.

You were ready.

You meet up with the leclerc family at the airport in the early hours of the morning, your suitcase gripped in your hand as you were mentally preparing yourself to sit on the plane and go over any and every possible outcome this weekend could have.

Arthur sat with Carla at the front, and Pascal was fast asleep. But the chair next to you suddenly became occupied when you looked up and saw the eldest leclerc.

“You look well, y/n.” he smiled down at you.

“Thank you.” you smiled back at lorenzo.

“I think the time away did you good, no?”

“yeah, i really needed some space, but now i'm back and just feeling a little..” you stumbled on your words, struggling to describe your emotions.

“Overwhelmed?”

“Yeah, exactly that.”

“Does he know you're coming?” you knew the ‘he’ lorenzo was referring too.

“I dont think so.”

“He's going to be happy to see you.” lorenzo nudged your shoulder.

“I hope so.” you nervously chucked.

You took in a deep breath and looked back at the eldest leclerc brother, “I'm just anxious, I have no idea how this weekend will pan out. The next time I'll be back on this plane going home I could be happy, sad, crying or planning to run away again. I just feel so lost.”

“Lost isn't a bad thing.'' Lorenzo shrugged.

“He's just as lost as you y/n, trust me. I just hope you both figure it out, you both deserve the peace of mind. And if this all goes to shit, you still got on this plane today and tried.”

“I just don't want to get my hopes up.”

“Then don't, sometimes things aren't just meant to be.”

That's what was worrying, you had loved this man for years, and now was the deciding day if he loved you back or not and you don't know if you were ready to give up the fantasy of him

being the love of your life up yet.

You weren't mentally prepared for the shit outcome of this story, you didn't know if you could handle Charles breaking your heart another time.

When the plane landed and the warm air hit your skin you took in a deep breath. Time to face the music.

You went straight to your hotel, it was a Friday so Charles was about to participate in fp1 by the time you turned up to the track.

The smell of burnt rubber and the sound of happy fans filled your ears, you had missed being in the paddock more than you knew. This place was your home.

You were walking with Arthur and Carla when your name was called, judging by the accent you knew it wasn't the monegasque, it was the papaya coloured boy running up to you.

You told Arthur and Carla you would catch up with them as you stopped and smiled at lando who had now reached you. 

“Hey.” he smiled.

“Hey.” you smiled back awkwardly.

“Listen lando, you deserve an explanation-”

“It's okay y/n, we were young, it was a while ago you’re forgiven.” Lando chuckled as he poked your shoulder.

“But that doesn't mean what I did was okay, you deserve more than what I gave you.” 

Lando gave you a sympathetic smile.

“Consider it done with, okay? No hard feelings.”

You smiled up at the British boy, he looked good, he seemed well and that made your guilt feel a little less painful.

“I erm, I have a girlfriend actually, she's great, her names luisa.”

You watched as he lips upturned at the mention of his girlfriend, he was smitten.

“I'm happy for you landini.”

You both laughed for a moment, the free air was nice. Seeing lando meant there was a weight lifted off your shoulders.

“I just wanted to see how you were doing, I didn't want things to be awkward.” he said.

“I don't think I could ever be awkward around you.” Lando smiled at your words.

“Are you still thinking about becoming an F1 journalist?” he asked, remembering how it was your dream, he had also hoped your disappearance in the paddock for the last year wasn't his doing, stopping you from reaching your dream.

You smiled as he remembered, “I'm working on it.”

“Well i hope i see you around more often then, you deserve it y/n, really.”

Lando was getting called from the other end of the paddock as he had to be in his car within the next 10 minutes, you both shared a hug and it felt nice to feel comfortable with him.

His hands squeezed your back before saying a quick bye and skipping down the paddock. 

As he pulled away and walked past, your eyes connected with them all to familiar grey ones you were so nervous to see.

Charles.

He didn't seem too happy though.

He had just watched you smile and laugh with your ex in the middle of the paddock and then hug him bye, even though you thought nothing of it, Charles' mind was spinning.

There he was, a tight lipped smile right opposite you. He had grown out his stubble and he looked tired. You knew he hadn't had the best of seasons with Ferrari, you didn't keep up with it too much, it upset you that his childhood team had failed him massively. 

He nodded his head and followed his press officer in the opposite direction, but you weren't going to let him go just yet.

“Charles, wait!”

And before you could process it you were running, sprinting down the paddock after him, but he had already disappeared into ferrari hospitality.

“Shit.” you mumbled as you jogged down to the garages in hopes of catching up with him.

You scanned your pass and walked into the back of the garage Pascal had walked up to you and grabbed your hand.

“You need to put some headphones on dear, it gets loud in -”

“Pascal, where did he go?” you asked her frantically, like a mad woman out of breath.

“Charles?”

“yes!”

A slight smile just appeared on her face as she turned around, “Be quick dear, I think I can see him putting his balaclava on.” She pushed your shoulder and you walked around the red barrer that clearly said ‘no public entry’.

“You can't be back here, ma'am.” a security officer grabbed the back of your bicep.

“No, I need to get through, it's an emergency.” you whined, pulling your arm from his grip.

“I'm sorry ma’am, it's a safety hazard.” the man's grip tightened on your arm as he pulled you away from the back of the garage. You pushed off him but his grip only improved as he swept you off the floor, lifting you up at your attempt to run. You kicked your legs like a child learning to swim and kicked arms that trapped you.

“If you refuse to cooperate, I'll have no choice but to remove you from the garage.” he said, trying to dodge your feisty little kicks.

“And If you don't get your slimy huge hands off me right now i'm going to-”

“y/n?!”

Your head snapped at the sound of your name, Jorris, Charles' best friend.

“Jorris, oh thank god!”

“She's okay, she can come in.” Jorris grabbed your other hand and wiggled you away from the huge security man's grip as he dropped you back to the floor. You brushed off your dress and gave the security man a dirty look before turning to Charles' best mate.

“Jorris, where is he?” your breathing was rapid and your heart beat feeling like it was thumping out your chest.

“y/n you really shouldn't.” he sent you a sympathetic smile.

“Please.” you pleaded with him. After seeing you try to fight a six foot five security man Joris really didn't want to feel the wrath of you right now, so he complied.

“You have five minutes, follow me.” he led you through the back of the garage.

Whenever Charles got in the car he liked to be left alone to his own devices, it was his switch off time, but you knew on some occasions he didn't mind the company, you just needed to talk to him, tell him you were here for him. You didn't want him getting in the car overthinking that you were here for lando.

And before you knew it, there he was, standing in front of you, you were painting out of breath with your hands on your knees as you looked up at him.

Charles giggled as you held up a finger to let him know you were still getting your breath back. He pulled his ear pieces out of his ear and zipped up the rest of his race suit.

“I hate to rush you, but I have to be in the car in four minutes.” Charles frowned, “and four minutes aren't enough for what I have to say to you, y/n.”

“Let's keep it short and sweet then.” you stood up straight and smiled at the boy.

“Im sor-” he started but you cut him off.

“That's not what I meant by sweet.”

Charles squeezed his eyes and winced at his name being called behind him, he opened his eyes and saw you beaming up at him and he knew he was in love, he just wasn't going to tell you yet, especially not if he had just witnessed you make up with lando. Lando made you happy, Lando didn't break your heart on multiple occasions like he had. Charles wouldn't blame you if you went back to the British driver.

You tilted your head to the left and smiled at Chris, Charles' manager. He was pointing at his watch and tapping his foot.

You looked back at Charles and took in a deep breath, you stood on your tip toes and placed your arms on his shoulders, gently placing a kiss to his cheek.

Your soft lips connecting with his ruff stubble is something Charles cherished, he couldn't wipe the Cheshire cat grin off his face.

“I know it's only a practice session, but good luck out there charlie.”

“Thank you.” he smiled, trying to hide his blush. He couldn't believe he was blushing and how the roles had reversed between the two of you.

“What about lando?” he had to ask, it was on his mind.

“I'm not standing next to Lando wishing him good luck right now, am i?” you smirked at him.

Charles smiled before looking back at his manager, he bent down and kissed your forehead like he had done a thousand times, but this time it felt different, electric, it felt like love. It was love.

“I'll be waiting for you, okay?” you told him.

Charles smiled to himself, he wasn't too late.

If anything was on Charles' side that day it wasnt timing. Charles finished fp2 with a few flying laps and a heavy heart, his first plan was to find you but his press officer had forced him to do interviews, and then he had a meeting and then he had checked his watch and it was way past nine and he knew you were probably back at the hotel by now.

He huffeed as he left his meeting, grabbing his jumper and keys and saying goodbye to the engineers that were going to work on the car overnight.

He had it all planned in his head, he was going to get some flowers on the way home, knock on your hotel door and ask you on a date.

“Charles!” called out his manager, he really hoped he didn't have to stay in this hell hole any longer, he just wanted to leave the track and get his girl.

“What?” he huffed.

“She waited.”

“What?” Charles repeated, his manager now having his full attention. 

Charles caught the way his manager's lips turned into a devilish smirk, but he wasn't looking at Charles, yet something behind him. When he whipped his head around there you were, his heart thumped at the massively oversized ferrari jacket one of the staff must have given you to keep you warm while you waited.

You just smiled at him and waited for him to walk to you, but charles sprinted, he was a man on a mission and when he got to you his hands slipped around your waist, pulling you up in the air for a moment before he dropped you back down, his hands still remaining tightly wrapped around your torso.

He tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear before placing his forehead on yours.

“Take what's yours charlie.” you smiled. 

Charles' thumb gently traced over your plump bottom lip before he placed his hand on your cheek, smiling like an idiot. 

He slowly grazed his lips on your before gently adding pressure and connecting your soft lips with his in a quick kiss. A kiss that was full of smiles as Charles pulled you as close to him as possible. Towering over you as he kissed you unlike he had kissed anyone ever. The way your lips moved in sync with his was magic to him, it had never felt like this before.

He pulled back letting you get some air, before using that as leverage to stick his tongue in your mouth, he put all his power and passion into the kiss and it was just as you imagined him to be with you. Sensual and passionate. 

Your hands ran along his shoulders and up to his head where you gently tucked on his hair. Charles groned on your lips and eventually pulled back, he giggled as he placed his forehead on yours again. 

“All mine, finally.” He said through a wide smile.

“I've always been yours…”

Thank you for reading!! Here’s a gif of baby Charles because this is how i imagined him when y/n had her teenage crush. Bare faced and spiky hair🥹

[ressonancee]

I THINK WE MARRIED IN VEGAS

✷ You and Jeonghan have always been friends, and friends go on a trip together, right? And somehow friends always end up marrying in Las Vegas right? And somehow friends become roommates as well right? That all seems very normal when Yoon Jeonghan has a weird addiction to doing the dumbest things ever just for shock value.

✷ genre: comedy (?), angst, smut (minors don't interact)

✷ word count: 28.244

✷ featuring: Yoon Ttoram, Choi Seungcheol, Lee Seokmin, Kim Mingyu as the unnamed satan-spit roommate one night stand, and Xu Minghao as the gothic impasto painter guy. 

✷ thea’s note: hey y’all this is my longest fic yet so I’m weirdly proud. I had fun writing this and trying to figure out how to build this Jeonghan and yes I did rewatched the birth of Ttoram while writing this. By the way - love you guys but the whole credit/debt/buying a house is just for plot I do not know how any of this works in America (and it is mainly set in America because I needed Vegas lol) <3 So bear with it. Also thanks to @wongyuuu for keeping me company in this nanowimo challenge, and thaks to @toruro Mika you are the best <3 thank you for reading this 

✷ Smut warnings under the read more ✷

✷ smut count: lost count of how many times Jeonghan thought he was going to cum on his pant, 1 dick sucked, teenagers level of horniness, non penetrative sex still sex, a lot of kissing, a 3 second of cumplay still a cumplay i guess. 

"Should we do it?" you hear Jeonghan ask, his face focused on something outside the car’s window. The lights of all the neon signs dance on his face and features—like a scene from a movie. He looks tired and overworked even though you are somewhat on vacation.

"Do what?" you ask, trying to understand what he meant. Maybe he was talking about a hotel spa and you missed the beginning of the sentence because you were too lost in your own thoughts? Yeah, a message would be a lifesaver right now.

"That," he says, pointing at one of the hundreds of little chapels in Las Vegas. This one has a deal sign in big and bold letters—an Elvis Presley priest, a bouquet, a professional photographer, and a bottle of champagne for half the price. Well, you never thought about off-season in Vegas, but maybe business was a little rough at this time of the year, but to be quite honest that did seem like a great deal—the shopaholic in you would fall for it if it didn’t involve marriage.

"Are you drunk already?" you ask. Even though you have known the man for years, you still can’t read Jeonghan properly.

Sometimes you think about how he is a book that is written in a different language, and you couldn’t have access to him without a dictionary on the side. Jeonghan does look like a classic—he is well put together, he is fancy, and he would be one of those books that have an embellished spine—the prettiest book on your bookshelf. But at the same time, he is one of those books that need commentaries on every page because somehow the author didn't care about giving enough context or didn't think his work would survive so many years. And one that the storylines end up being totally fucked up, so basically a Russian classical.

"No, I'm painfully sober," Jeonghan says while leaning his head on the window of the car. It almost makes you laugh when you hear the loud sound of him bumping his head, even the Uber driver who didn’t utter a word turns his head back. "It's just," he starts again, "I heard Seungcheol talking about it, and it seems nice to be married."

"What are you talking about?” you say in disbelief,  “Seungcheol is not married yet, he is having a bachelor party in Vegas. He is drinking his weight in alcohol and spending the college tuition of his firstborn in the casino. You and him know about the same thing about marriage, which equals barely anything."

“Yeah but he did talk about all the perks—Oh thank you,” he notices that the Uber finally arrived at the hotel feat casino and all the Vegas shenanigans. Jeonghan holds the car door for you, like a true gentleman—you almost scoff. “What I was trying to say is, Seungcheol did talk to me about being married, it doesn’t feel like a bad deal at all.” Again, he holds the door for you.

“So we should just get married in Vegas because Seungcheol said it is a great deal?” you ask Jeonghan like he said the stupidest thing ever, which is partially true. It was one of the stupidest things he’d ever said to you, and you’ve known the man for years—you’ve witnessed a fair  amount of his stupidity, all laced with his all-knowing smile. Every time you tried to understand what he was talking about it always left you feeling like this man was insane.

“I mean? What would you lose?” Jeonghan asked, crossing his arms after pushing the elevator buttons—one for your room, the other one so the door closes faster (he is one of those people).

“A lot?” you say almost laughing. What the fuck? It resonates in your mind, almost like the words are bumping the walls of your cranium, like the old Windows 98 screensaver logo.

“Yeah? Like what?” Jeonghan asks and the ping of the elevator makes sure both of you know that it arrived before opening the door.

“Freedom,” you say, trying to stay normal and not succumb to Jeonghan—you both hear someone saying,“Hold!” across the hall. Jeonghan just smiles and clicks the button to close the door. Maniac really, without basic education. To be fair though, it was a frat dude with another frat dude who could wait for the next elevator without dying, but still.

“Come on, you are a book editor. You love everything that has nothing to do with freedom, you love rules and everything that shackles you.” You scoff hearing Jeonghan’s words.

You want to argue, you want to kick and scream and pick a fight because is he basically calling you boring right? He is totally calling you the most boring person he’s ever met, and you are in Vegas - and still, somehow, you are the boring girl. But he is right about it—you do not leave your comfort zone, you do not do crazy very well, and you don’t even drink that much because losing control of situations makes you slightly insane. And Jeonghan is right because he is one of your closest friends, and you talked about it with him, he even knows how this is a recurrent topic in your therapy. Asshole.

“Well, still don’t give me the urge to marry you, your sales points are awful—how do you hold your job?” You ask side eyeing your friend, well, if you wanted to marry someone calling them boring is not the right way to do it.

“I do a better job when I need to sell to investors, I’m not giving my all right now since you are not paying me,” Jeonghan says, leaving the elevator and looking back at you. Well, not giving your all when you are asking someone for marriage - number two mistake.

“I’d hope so, otherwise your name would be number one in the next layoff,” you say rolling your eyes.

“Come on,” Jeonghan scoffs. “You didn’t hear Seungcheol talking about the benefits," he says, opening the door to your shared hotel door. The deal was to sleep in a weird hotel that may have bedbugs or share a room and a bed with Jeonghan in a more upscale hotel whose bathroom didn’t look like a crime scene. Not a difficult decision, to be quite honest.

“Is Seungcheol now a pro-marriage coach?” you ask, taking off your shoes and leaving your bag on the nearest chair.

“Probably, I mean, the side money would be crazy,” he says, taking off his watch and leaning against the table, again crossing his arms. “What I meant is did you ever think about the tax deduction, health insurance benefits, leave benefits? Also, Seungcheol did remind me that the bank raises the chance of getting approved credits if the spouse has a great credit history.” 

“Yet he is the one marrying because he loves his girlfriend,” you remind Jeonghan, because apparently he is forgetting one the key ingredients of marriage in contemporary societies - love, affection, and a dose of “I love you but leaving with you every time you forget the toothpaste open is making me thinking about how life in hell would look like.”

“Right,” Jeonghan scoffs, making you even more curious.

“What would you need credits for?” you ask. Jeonghan is an unmarried and childless man, who works on investments, travels twice a year, and has a car. You on the other hand work in a crumbling industry - books, who reads books? - don’t travel a lot and your car is like twelve years old.

“Marry me and I tell you,” Jeonghan answered without letting the ball drop, quick on his feet like always, you could never catch this man.

“Tell me and I will think about it,” You try to pry.

“A house.” He says earnestly.

Again - you know Jeonghan, and you know your friend is a lunatic, but you also know when he is being completely honest with you. The man did want that house, which was completely weird. Jeonghan was a city guy, he was living in a rented apartment sure, but it was a great apartment, it even had a view. He worked downtown, why would he need a house?

“A house?” You try again, trying to get more details of what the heck is making your friend go crazy out of a sudden.

“Yeah, a house.” He says shrugging like it is the most common thing ever, maybe it is a well-known scheme of marrying for taxes and credits that you don’t know, maybe you are late. Maybe you are outdated putting together marriage and love in the same sentence, maybe, the world has changed. “Will you marry me?” Jeonghan asks you in his dullest voice ever like he is tired and completely bored.

“No.” You deadpan.

“Come on, at least pretend that you are thinking about it,” Jeonghan says, lying on the bed horizontally, his face is now closer to you and his legs are too big so they hang out of the bed, like a kid almost. “It has four bedrooms so you can move and say fuck you to Laurel the accountability girl.”

Well, that makes you think about it. He should have started with that. Maybe if he just proposed a new roommate scheme you would’ve said yes in the uber.

“I don't hate her that much,” you lied through your teeth, you hated that girl. You blamed the real state crisis because the rent was crazy, sharing the apartment was a good deal on paper, and half of the rent money went to your savings account so you could live in peace - Jeonghan actually advised you on how to save and where to invest if you wanted to retire quickly, but you never really thought about buying shares and selling shares and the whole ordeal.

“Fuck you,” He laughs, “every week I have to hear you complain how she lets food go bad and how it leaves your fridge stinky enough to make you almost puke, and that only happens when she doesn't food go bad on the kitchen counter or wait, do you remember when she forgets to lock the door two times last week?”

“Well, I am sorry if I have listened to true crimes podcast enough to be actually aware of the horrors of being a woman and how serial killers are out there just waiting for you to sleep with the fucking door open,” you say like you are the most reasonable person ever.

“And you are right, what I am saying is that I would lock the door so no one can enter the house, I would be a better roommate.”  

“Sure we do not have to marry to be roommates we can look for suitable places in our price range,”

“Look at this,” Yoon Jeonghan says, fiddling with his phone, “It has four bedrooms, three and a half bathrooms, the kitchen is great, it has a backyard and a solarium.”

“Fuck-”  You say, sitting on the bed, your thigh close enough to his arm that you feel the warmth of his skin, “that’s, that's crazy.” 

“I know,” he says turning on the bed and closing his hand on his stomach like he is dead, just staring at the ceiling, “The price is not bad either, one of my clients is trying to sell so he can invest in a new startup so it is not actually in the market right now but will be in a few weeks so-”

“Did you try to get the loan?”  You ask, finger still going on his phone looking at different pics of this completely perfect house. All the rooms were big, and with natural light - crazy. The Solarium looked like a thing out of this world. And you could see yourself living there, if you had enough money you could live the dream, but that house was just out of your price range. God, with that garden you could have a dog. Damn.

“I don't want to pay interest to a bank,” Jeonghan almost whines, because he knows how this whole thing works and how he would have to pay the loan and half of the loan because banks are greedy bastards.

“Can I have two bedrooms?”

“What do you need two bedrooms for?” Jeonghan asks, finally looking at you and dropping his i-am-almost-dead act.

“My room, one office,” you explain. You know the office would be the one with two larger windows facing the garden. Oh what a joy - to build a life you would never live, it was indeed one of your favorite hobbies, maybe that’s why you love books so much.

“Ok, I guess. I can make something out of the basement.” Jeonghan replies nonchalantly making you laugh.

Maybe that’s why you two were friends, you had a great time speaking nonsense to one another. You both just kept feeding into whatever fantasy you built, like reality could not touch everything. You and Jeonghan had this weird pattern of just sitting, eating and talking for hours and hours about whatever that had nothing to do with the truth. What would you do if you won the lottery? What would you do when you retire? What would you do if you woke up on a desert island? What would you do if your boss was imprisoned for embezzlement? Ok not the last one, scratch that, this one actually happened.

“I can give you 5% of the price tag, and we can share the loan if it matches my current rent price range, but we need to actually draft something with a lawyer later so we can only sell the house to ourselves, I don’t trust you enough to buy this house without a lawyer on my side.”

“Dude-” Jeonghan jerks on the bed, he sits and turns his body to face you. “Wait, do you hate Laurel that much?”

“Yoon Jeonghan, do you want a marriage to up your credit score or what? I paid my student loans in record time, the banks love me.” 

“I don’t know if you are joking or not,” He tells you. 

"Can you call room service?" You ask heading to the bathroom, while you tie your hair - like you are preparing yourself for a dire work task - maybe talk to a translator about a deadline, they are worse than writers, "I think we will need more alcohol." 

"Wait," you hear Jeonghan's voice echo through the door, "are we actually gonna do it?" 

You are joking. 

And you know Jeonghan was too. With the years of knowing him, you knew that the majority of things that left Jeonghan's mouth had a shock value purpose. Induce distress first, we talk about truth later - or never. That made you 100% sure that you would never marry that man. You knew him enough - twelve years, since high school. He knew you as well - he knew all your teenage traumas, all of your romance fiasco, and he met all of your exes. 

You would never, never, marry that man.

Right?

Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

When you open your eyes and the white ceiling greets you, you can hear yourself groaning almost involuntarily. Your head aches. You know you will regret everything that happened the night before, even though you don't know what actually happened, and what you need to hold yourself accountable for. But you know the taste of a life-changing hangover that has a side dish of regret and a cup of shame to go. But it couldn’t possibly be so bad right?

Ok, maybe moving your body was not the very first thing to do. You try to open your eyes again. Well, at least you were in your own hotel room. Jeonghan is by your side, his arm across your stomach and somehow his face is near your armpit. You try to sniffle yourself, but so far doesn't like you are actually stinky. Your deodorant was doing a great job so far, maybe it actually has a 24-hour action or something like that.

You try to lift yourself up, sitting in the bed, head in hand because everything spins. Oh God help you. Besides the headache you feel sticky and sweaty, and all gross. You can't believe you didn't shower, and if you didn't shower you didn't take your makeup off, and if you didn't take your makeup off you totally threw your 43-day steak of doing your skincare routine. Fuck. Maybe you could just delete the app, or pretend that yesterday never happened. Deal with the blank day that screams how bad you fucked up was not an option though, it would never happen.

“What the fuck did we drink?” You hear Jeonghan's hoarse voice. You take the hands off your eyes, the clarity feels like punching your cornea and brain, and Jeonghan's state is not very different from yours, his shirt is open and ruffled, his arms are shielding his eyes from the light entering the room, his hair is messy and he looks like he needed four days of sleep.

“Fuel? Petrol? Satan spit in a cup?” You answer dropping yourself on the bed again, every joint of your body aches. It is ridiculous how you feel trapped in a 90 years old body, and like that is not enough you feel nauseated beyond words. And every time you can feel and hear Jeonghan breathing it feels like it is piercing your skull, would be rude to ask your friend to stop breathing and just stay completely still? He would understand, right?

“Do you think room service can get us some painkillers?” He groans lifting himself up this time, “Or maybe a gun?”

“Can you call them? I think I will puke if I sit for more than half a minute,” you say, your hand going into your mouth as if it would actually help if the worst-case scenario happened.

“I think I can, the problem is that you need to get me the phone,” Jeonghan tells you groaning between words. His hand points to the object and there is no way in hell you are moving to get that, that would mean you getting up and turning and being alive altogether.

“I can't I told you I gonna puke,” you try to explain how serious your condition - also known as hangover - is.

“It is by your side of the bed" He groans again and yet he sounds just like a petulant child, maybe it is a gift.

“I can't I will puke on the carpet it only makes things worse,” you try again, “or worse I can puke on the bed, you included in the radio of the vomit you know it splashes.”

“Ok, stand still,” Jeonghan says, “don't kick me, I'm doing it for both of us”

And you do as you are told because being still right now is the only thing you can do - even moving your eyeballs seems too much right. So Jeonghan just dropped his body on top of yours, he is also sweaty, and he reeks of alcohol. Damn, he actually smells like gasoline. He picks up the phone and presses a few buttons. His body is still above yours, pressing into you.

“Be quick you are pressing my blade," you say after the surprise of having him against you fazes out.

“What the fuck do you need to pee or vomit? Ah yes, hello,” He says changing his voice in the middle of the sentence from something that says intimacy is a disease to his customer service voice without pausing, “hm do you guys have room service that includes painkillers?” He waits, nodding his head as he hears something before he remembers his on the telephone. “Oh okay, thank you, can you send it? Oh yeah great, yes if you can do that, yes, pancakes, toasts with poached eggs and avocado, coffee hmm” he thinks about it, looks at you, thinks about a second or two, and then adds, “Can you send us four cups of coffee? Thank you.”

Jeonghan finishes the call with a groan leaving his mouth, he places the phone on its holder. But when you think he will get himself off of you he only plops down, his body weight getting heavier. His bones poking your body, what the fuck he was doing with your elbow on your ribcage?

“Jeonghan what the fuck-" You complain, trying to kick your legs in a vain attempt to make your friend move.

“I got us painkillers and food, let me recharge for a bit stop complaining,” Jeonghan says in a dead tone of voice, almost like he is dealing with a kid throwing some type of tantrum - the only thing is that, in this occasion, the child is you and somehow you want to kick his shin, because you are the one right in this situation, and you could totally just plop down in a mall disgusting floor if Yoon Jeonghan was your father too.

“You are heavy!” You try again but somehow Jeonghan is stronger than you think and his body is still over yours like nothing is happening, maybe you are just dehydrated and fucking muscle-less, maybe the yoga wasn’t doing much when you almost killed your liver.

“I am not,” Jeonghan says, now he is the one being the moody child in the supermarket, maybe he will go off without parental supervision. Oh wait, this was Yoon Jeonghan he actually did wander away when he was out about with his parent and ended up three blocks away just because he saw an ice cream truck. Jeonghan was the easiest kid to be kidnapped, you ask yourself how he ended up being safe and sound, and in one piece.

“Just because you are skinny it doesn’t mean you aren’t heavy.” You try again pushing on Jeonghan bony shoulder, even that is pointy. “bones are heavy too, get off of me!”

“You kind of stink," Jeonghan says, his head still lodged in the space between your neck and shoulder.

“Well you asshole you are not better yourself, and you are stinky too and sticky like you showered in bear or something.”

“Maybe I did, I don’t know I can't actually think,” He groans finally trying to lift himself up, “We should shower,” he says sitting on the bed and looking down at you.

“You go first,” both of you say at the same time

You end up going first. Mainly because you needed to pee and you think that once you are up you may as well just use the opportunity to shower otherwise you would just drop dead on the floor and never get up again - you will be stinky and gross forever. Also, you think that if hell breaks loose and Jeonghan actually pukes you at least already used the shower. Back in college, he puked on the sink because it was the closest thing to the door, or whatever poor excuse he came up with, and that scene still haunts you, because somehow the sink was clogged. Ew, you think, finishing peeing and wiping yourself up. You wash your hands and say thank you for your past self because your necessaire is splayed on the counter, you pick up your face wash and head to the shower. Ok, let's deal with it. You need to wash your hair too. You open the register, letting the water hit your foot in an attempt to get just the perfect temperature.

You close and open the registers a few times - to fix the temperature, but you not gonna lie, to make up your mind too. But when you let the water hit your face - in an almost drowning attempt, you know you made the right decision, shower first was the only option. You let the water wash away for a few minutes until you are ready to really start your shower. First step - wash your face. Well, you needed to buy a new face wash this one was in its last few stages of life, you close your eyes and start to rub against your skin, normal, until you few something slightly different on your hand - almost like scratching the skin, you open your eyes and you finally notice, a band on your finger.

You turn your hand and it finally hits you.

It is a ring.

With a big rock.

In your ring finger.

A big damn rock on your ring finger.

“Yoon Jeonghan” you scream in horror.

On the other side of that door, Jeonghan just hears you scream. He actually picks himself up in record time and room towards the bathroom, oh shit did you just fall and hit your head? Did you break the glass of the fancy hotel shower? Are you dying? So without thinking much Jeonghan opens the bathroom door and he just finds you - completely naked and seemly okay, just staring at your own hand.

“What happened?” He asks trying to catch his own breath, maybe he does need to start working out man, he didn’t feel this horrible when he was hitting the gym after shifts, but also he didn’t feel that great either the whole gym rat thing was not his ordeal.

“What did we do?” You ask still in complete horror, not even thinking about how this is the first time Yoon Jeonghan, your friend is seeing you completely naked. 10/10 would not recommend this experience. Not even to Laurel, her satan spit roommate.

“What? Are you going crazy? I thought you fell and opened your skull or something,”

You just look at Jeonghan, dead in his eyes, like the reality is worse than falling in the bathroom, opening your skull and calling the paramedics naked. You just turn your hand to him - like it is enough to make him understand what a dire situation it is. And you swear to god you can almost see the little flakes of light on the bathroom floor, the rock is big enough to shine across the room.

“Did you call me to show me your ring? Couldn’t you wait until you put your clothes on?” Jeonghan asks leaning into the doorway.

“Jeonghan did we-” you say but you feel your own throat closing around itself, it can’t be right?

“Hm?” he asks without a blink of an eye.

“Oh we did, we totally did," you sighed, more to yourself than to Jeonghan.

“No, you are not that crazy,” he claimed. What is that even was supposed to mean? He was crazy enough for it but you the two goody shoes wasn’t?

“Jeonghan check your bank receipt,” you demanded, trying to connect the dots in a way, trying to find a physical proof, maybe you just bought a way too expensive ring for yourself, or maybe it was just impulse buying.

Before you can move Jeonghan almost runs towards the room, you try your best to keep up with him but you are a little behind because for the first time, you actually are aware of how naked you are. You pick up the fluffy bathroom robe - yeah the fancy hotel had its perks.

“Oh fuck” you can hear Jeonghan before you can see him, his phone it’s on his lap, his head is on his head - he is a man defeated.

“Did we?” You try to probe, but your voice sounds weird in your own ears - almost small, and the reality hits you, you are kinda scared. The reality of maybe having fucked up hits you like a trunk, you always been a nice girl, you never fucked up - at least not that bad, what would you mean if you married on a drunk whim?

“I think,” Jeonghan says, his hand on his greasy hair, fuck he needed a shower. “I think we fucked up real bad.”

You sit beside Jeonghan, you both staring at the wall ahead of you in disbelief. You are still gross, but now your damp hair is actually dropping on the bed and you can’t bring yourself to care. The fact that Jeonghan is motionless by your side without uttering a word is what freaks you out more. Jeonghan is not someone who is fazed so easily - his mouth is agape and his eyebrows furred, the ‘i-am-utterly-stressed’ Jeonghan feature is what freaks you out really.

“Ok Hannie,” you breathe softly. “That’s what we are going to do, I am going to shower, then you are going to shower, we gonna eat breakfast, then we are going to return this ring, then we are going to call Joshua, he is a lawyer, right? He probably will know what to do.”

“Joshua is a real estate lawyer,” Jeonghan mutters without blinking.

“Jeonghan focus!” You say getting out of bed, “divorce is a thing we don’t need to stay married.”

You take one of the longest showers in human history. You needed a good shower, but, the majority of the time under the shower you think about how the hell you got so drunk to marry Jeonghan. Some flashes of memory blink on the forefront of your mind every time you blink; a vegas chapel, not an Elvis but an Elton John in front of you, Jeonghan picking one of the most expensive ring in a fancy story. How the fuck fancy jewelry runs for twenty four hours?

Every flash comes with a sharp pain, the fucking headache.

When you get out of the bathroom the breakfast is already in the room. You take a bit of egg and toast just so you can shove coffee down your throat without having to deal with the stomach pain. You search the ring case and don’t find anywhere, maybe it is safe on Jeonghan’s thing, maybe he kept it safe, or you hope so. When you sit on the bed you stare down the ring, it is a beautiful ring and you are pretty sure it is something Jeonghan chose, it is beautiful, but at the same time, it is just too much.

You need to return it, no doubt about it.

You try to take the ring one and somehow it doesn’t even budge. You scoff, what a tricky little thing. So you try again, and again the thing doesn’t move. You can feel the drop in your blood pressure, what the heck? You lost track of the time when Jeonghan opened the bathroom door and you looked at him in shock, you look down at your red and bloated finger.

“This shit is stuck in my finger?” You say trying to take off one final time before just breaking your finger.

“Well, I think this is a good time to tell you,” he starts his voice all weird and over the place, “I kinda fucked up.”

“Jeonghan we are apparently married I already know we fucked everything up.”

“No, I-” Jeonghan begins, his hands now going through his washed hair, still wet and dripping on the floor, “I found a shred receipt and an invoice.”

“What the fuck?” You almost yell in pure knee-jerk reaction.

“I think it is yours now?” Jeonghan shrugs, like it is not a big deal even though you know that this ring is expensive, it must be, it has a giant rock and even though you know close to nothing about jewelry it looks expensive.

“What happened to us?” You question.

“You ask me? You don't remember anything?" Jeonghan says sincerely, and you know it is true. Jeonghan was kind of a prankster, he kinda did push people to its limit, but part of it was just doing fun things but also harmless shit. Like entering the beach at night, or hiding someone’s phone and pretending they did leave in the hotel so they can enjoy the trip without being bombarded by their special someone - read Seungcheol yesterday at lunch.

“Can we call Joshua?”

“I think we can do that later,” Jeonghan checks his watch, “I think it would be wiser just to show up to Seungcheol’s lunch and pretend that mini golf is fun, it would bring suspicious otherwise.”

“Jeonghan we married we didn’t commit a crime,” you say looking at him in disbelief.

“Do you want to deal with Seungcheol’s monologue about us getting married? I don’t think I want to deal with that with a killer hangover after a wedding walk of shame in fucking Las Vegas,” he drops. And God, that really sounds like a nightmare.

“Yeah,” you say looking at the big rock on your thing, “you are right, but we should probably still call Joshua,”

“I told you he is a real state lawyer didn’t I?” He says almost rudely to you, and you want to say that if you two are married both of you said yes it is not like you are the only one responsible for it but you try not to push his buttons.

“And what is your option Jeonghan?”

“I’m thinking about just getting drunk again so I can forget everything that is happening right now.”

What a fucking great idea.

Seungcheol is one of Jeonghan’s closest friends from college. Seungcheol just became your friend because you and Jeonghan were weirdly bound at the hip. You both shared your high school years, and when you two enrolled at the same university you only had two options, pretend you two didn’t know each other, or become conjoined twins. Jeonghan was a business major, you were enrolled in every class that had literature, poetry, or the name of a dead guy on it. But still, you and Seungcheol became great friends even though he is a finance guy. And Seungcheol was the reason you two were on a Vegas trip, the last trip of his life as an unmarried man, he had to make a sketchy deal with his fiancé in order to it to happen but still, according to him, it was worthy.

“Nice shot!” You hear Seungcheol's voice loud, bringing you back to reality. He is clapping as Seokmin - one of his other friends from work hits the ball down the hole.

Seungcheol’s voice, loud and clear, brings you back to reality.

Oh the joys of playing mini golf before lunch, you could spend days and days talking about how much you loved the idea and how every hole seems like a fucking nightmare but you are a married woman. Needless to say this whole situation wasn’t in your 2023 bingo card. You don’t pay attention when it is Jeonghan or Seungcheol’s turn, you wait until you have to put the ball in the hole, it probably takes you double the time, and then it starts again, ad infinitum. At least they are kind enough to not pressure you to perform like Tiger Woods or something.

You think about Jeonghan though. Somehow, he hasn’t changed. Jeonghan was the same Jeonghan you met in high school, of course, he matured and the years turned into baggage, but Jeonghan was still your friend who was playful enough to get married on a whim. Jeonghan was everything you weren’t in a way, somewhat playful and carefree, and still a very practical human being. Jeonghan was mischievous, but yet, not even once, he pushed you until you couldn’t take it, and that makes you think that somehow, with an unknown reason, in your drunk stupor, you wanted to marry Jeonghan, because hell can break loose, the skies can fall, but Jeonghan would never make you do something you did not want to do.

While Jeonghan and Seungcheol are busy hitting those tiny balls Seokmin stops by your side. You like Seokmin, Seokmin is kind, and you constantly think about how he is surviving the finance world, he doesn’t seem cut to it, but somehow he manages to stay alive against the monsters of capitalism, or, worse, he stays alive feed the monsters of capitalism. Ew. Seokmin’s face though seems focused on another thing, he looks in shock and happy at the same time, he probably did the whole hole in less than three shots you think.

“Oh my god,” He almost screams making you jolt in place, in all truth that was pretty much a common occurrence when your day to day involved Seokmin.

“Hm?” You question puzzled, looking at him trying to find a clue of something behind his feature when Jeonghan and Seungcheol finally join the two of you on the sideline.

“What is that?” Seokmin asks and you still without a fucking clue of what he is talking about. “Damn,” he says with his big smile across his face, making the tip of his nose get even more pronounced, “are you guys planning a surprise and I just ruined it?” His face changes in a blink of an eye.

“What surprise?” Jeonghan questions taking a drink of his gatorade like he was in the middle of an excruciating sport and not fucking mini golf after an unsafe amount of alcohol.

“That thing!” Seokmin cheered, and then it downs on you - the big ass ring on your hand, propped on the golf putter, and before you can hide it or chop your hand off the three man in your sight is eying the big damn rock that you forgot about,

“The what?” Seungcheol blurted.

“This is an engagement ring right?” Seokmin asks and you think about an ostrich, putting its head on the ground, you think you can do the same in one of the circuit's holes.

“No, it isn’t, how the hell they are engaged when they aren’t dating?” Seungcheol scoffs, acting like Seokmin is saying something that doesn't make sense, something that happened numerous times before, it could be happening again. It was happening again, at least to Seungcheol.

“We saw that one when we were looking for your fiancée present though,” Seokmin says all pouty and confused, and you think you almost try to defend his point of view as you always do, just because he is cute.

“It isn’t an engagement right?” Seungcheol asks

“It would be weird to be an engagement ring,” Jeonghan acknowledged the absurdity that envelopes the situation that you two are in, you want to try to take off the ring and just throw it across the field of mini golf, but a) it looked extra expensive, b) the three guys didn't even blink looking at your hand.

“Did you buy for aesthetic proposal?” Seokmin asks, "A girl that works with the human resources team did buy one just because she thought it was pretty."

“Of course,” Seungcheol claps, “I mean fashion was never your strong suit,” He says and it almost feels like a jab, “I almost brought that one, Jeonghan was dead set on this, saying it was the ring, but it was a bit on the expensive side”

“How expensive are we talking about?” You try to pry your body from reacting physically to the fact that Jeonghan shredded a fucking invoice and receipt, and the fact that even Seungcheol - the guy who buys twelves tumblers just because it was cute and ends up giving them away finds that expensive sets a new parameter of money waste.

“You didn’t check the price?" Seokmin asks, when you remain silent he continues, “Wow be you must be nice, balling and shit."

“How expensive are we talking about Seungcheol?” You try again, "Seokmin?" If you can’t return this damn thing at least you can try to sell it later. If you can’t find someone who can buy this you can sell for those weird and sketchy stores but you need to know how much you are actually losing on the deal, well, not you, Jeonghan but still, if you know the man he will just accept his fate and never move a muscle to deal with this ring situation.

“You really didn't check the price hun?” Seungcheol questions raising his eyebrow, like he always did when he couldn’t quite believe in you and it always made you feel angry with him. It was a tale almost, even when you were telling the truth he always raised that eyebrow questioning you, making you explain yourself.

“I brought the ring,” Jeonghan says nonchalantly like he is saying that he brought the bread on his way home. Jeonghan had this thing, a completely loath to let other people know his truest feelings. Even if he was one step away from a panic attack he would not tell you.

“Why would you do that?” Seungcheol asks again his voice is two tones higher, and you feel like he is questioning the two of you, and in his own mind he is the bad cop in the situation - Seungcheol liked that type of shit, and you think that maybe he is so into that because Jeonghan is his polar opposite, never giving Seungcheol a reaction.

“I told you I thought it was a beautiful ring man,” Jeonghan deadpans and take his fingers to move his bangs out of his eyes - making him look like a fucking prick, looking down at everyone else, and you know that just tickles something in Seungcheol. “What I am trying to say,” Jeonghan tries again, “is that the ring It is not an engagement ring because I didn’t ask her to marry me yet,” Jeonghan says walking by your side and enveloping your shoulder in an awkward hug. “I just confessed my feelings, it might be over the top a bit but you guys know I just had my eye on the ring.”

“Dude! Finally!” Seokmin says hugging Jeonghan, and you almost feel yourself choking on air.

When Jeonghan is free he whispers against your ear, his breath on your skin making you shrink, “Just bear with it.”

“What?” Seungcheol asks “Out of nowhere, you confessed your feelings? With an engagement ring?”

“Not an engagement ring Seungcheol we won't crash your wedding, relax,” Jeonghan says again, rolling his eyes.

“How much it was?” You try again dead set on finding out how much that was, apparently a new hyper-fixation.

“Babe,” Jeonghan says looking at you with a mischievous smile across his face, “it is not polite to talk about the price tag”

“What the hell I am watching right now?” Seungcheol bristled, more in anger than in frustration.

“It was long overdue really,” Seokmin gushed, in a terrible contrast to Seungcheol’s features, his voice is loud and his big smile stretches across his face, “I thought it was so fucking weird you two sharing a hotel room with the excuse of saving money, like we know Jeonghan has money,” Seokmin points to the ring, making your skin crawl.

“We are returning this,” you tell Jeonghan, your voice low while elbowing his ribs.

“Baby I told you,” Jeonghan appealed, grabbing your shoulder “We can’t do that”

“Like I personally found you guys always so weird like, I think I even asked Seungcheol if you guys were married in the past because you guys are really,” he moves his hands in a weird move in a way to mean how close you always had been, “like truly crazy and then I asked Seungcheol and he was like it is never gonna happen and I was like-"

And Seokmin goes on for about a good five minutes about how he thought the two of you were a couple, and in a way, you were so used to it that it didn't even startle you. The problem was that Seokmin truly believed Jeonghan’s lies, one thing was to think that you two were in a relationship - everyone had this basic reaction since the two were in college, even one of Jeonghan’s ex-girlfriend thought of, one of your coworkers too, Jeonghan’s door to door neighbors too, almost every single soul you two met. That alone was something you began to understand, yeah you and Jeonghan had a weird level of intimacy.

 If you mash together your college years you can sum up in - of course, we do not date, of course, you can go ahead and kiss him in this horrible pub, oh yeas I am living in his dorm at ungodly hours just because we decided to binge watch a docuseries, oh if I am wearing Jeonghan's clothes? Haha He saved my ass because I doped the coffee on my clothes - ps. The coffee didn't exist, and his girlfriend did break things up a week later, Jeonghan swore it wasn't because of you. Once one guy broke up with you because when he smelled you he could recognize Jeonghan's smell on you, Jeonghan toke as his duty to just fuck up with that guy's mind for a whole month. He told you over and over again that the guy was wrong and basically called you a cheater, so you might as well plant enough evidence to give them the mental image - Jeonghan planted underwear on said guy's returning box, a note with his own handwriting with meet me in secret at the library, and even brought you a small dog plushie to put in the box and when you asked why he said 'he will think another guy gave you a present'.

Knowing Jeonghan and the fact that he loved shocking people this whole act today didn't really shock you, in the end, you were the only that understand Jeonghan, because you would never ever fall for this weird ass act. Your default reaction to anything Jeonghan related was a fair amount of mistrust.

“What are you two doing?” Seungcheol asks again, his voice is laced with suspicion and mistrust.

“Doing what?” Jeonghan asks, his hand going to your hair and placing it behind your ear.

“Whatever you guys are doing,” Seungcheol says pointing his fingers at the both of you, and you think it is dumb to even pretend something to Seungcheol, he knows you, he knows Jeonghan he knows nothing like that would even happen and you still don't know why Jeonghan is even trying to lie to him. 

“Jeonghan-” you whine, marrying in Vegas is indeed something that brings you shame and regret but lying to your friends is even worse, how would you deal with that later?

You think you would prefer listening to Seungcheol’s monologue about how both of you are completely crazy, unreasonable, and unreliable, all of that rings true now. And it was Seungcheol, he would end up knowing somehow, even if you didn’t tell him now, you both would end up telling him. This whole scheme would fall like a house of cards somehow. You couldn't knock on Seungcheol door and say haha we were kidding, but Jeonghan could, you would make him do it.

“Seungcheol that’s actually-”

“What are we supposed to believe that after what? A decade you just woke up brought a ring and confessed your feelings?” Seungcheol asks, raising his voice enough to make you look around the damn mini golf to see if anyone is insane enough to care about this damn scene, “When you are a commitment phobe who has been on my ass for the past several months?”

“Look man, can you just drop it?” Jeonghan asks again - in the same aloof way he uses when he wants to piss you off, almost like he is flirting with the idea of being a patronizing prick. 

“Of course not, what the hell,” Seungcheol says, his tone still on the angrier side  “You didn’t even remotely tell us about this."

“Yeah well some people can actually keep secret,” Jeonghan says bitterly.

“What was that supposed to mean?” Seungcheol questions and just by the tone of his voice you know that shit is going down, you have seen countless fights between the two to know that Seungcheol was on the edge.

“It means that I can actually keep my individuality as a human being because I don’t have a crazy girlfriend who has trust issues so I need to overshare everyone’s personal life because she thinks you can cheat on her every monday to friday man,” Jeonghan quipped. He was not the one who loved to fight, Jeonghan was actually someone who would just shrug and resolve the situation later when it came back to bite his ass, but damn when he wanted to fight he was ready for it.

“Damn,” Seokmin breathed.

“What the fuck Jeonghan,” You and Seungcheol say at the same time, both in disbelief.

“It is the truth, isn't it?” Jeonghan chastised, “Dude you are traveling with friends and somehow the whole lunch was about how your girlfriend was pissed that you actually brought a ring to placate how angry she was."

“Jeonghan stop talking.” you plead, holding his arms trying to get his attention, to make him stop before things end up in a point of no return. 

“Why?” Jeonghan asks you this time, eyes focused on you and not Seungcheol.

“Because you are being a fucking asshole now,” you say “This is Seungcheol bachelor’s party the man is getting married,” you try again like Seungcheol is not in the room.

“Oh you think I don’t know about that?" He says exasperated, "We are in Vegas and this motherfucker drink one beer and told us to go to our own hotel yesterday so we needed to get drunk and-”

“Jeonghan,” you say again almost like a kid tugging Jeonghan's by his shirt sleeve.

“We are in fucking Vegas and we didn’t visit one strip club and we are playing mini golf that something off about this whole trip,” Jeonghan says loudly chuckling at his own words.

“Are you seriously right now? You are going on a tirade against your friend because he doesn’t take you to strip clubs?” It is your time to act in disbelief - strip club? Seriously?

“Maybe if we were at a strip club yesterday,” Jeonghan says eying you.

“You know what?” Seungcheol speaks up. “Fuck you, you are uninvited by the way, you go on and on about how you don’t think I should marry, well, then you don’t need to show up.”

You and Jeonghan are left side by side on the mini golf field. Standing there while the world still moving around. You want to break out in laughter, you want to just laugh at how the two of your friends seem to wake up on the wrong foot, you want to knock Jeonghan's head off his shoulder, but you end up just walking to return to the damn golf club. 

The whole way to the hotel you and Jeonghan spend in complete silence, not one uttering a single word.

And apparently - now you are the one that wants to start a fight out of nowhere. You are the one that wants to scream about how Jeonghan was being an unreasonable asshole. You try to wrap your head around his reasons, about why he would act like that and nothing that comes up in your own brain seems right.

So when you both are back in the hotel room - now with new sheets thank god, and less alcohol smell you just ask in the most nonsubtle way you can, you hold your own waist and ask like he was a teenager throwing a rude tantrum, “What was that?”

“What?” Jeonghan asks taking his time to take off his jewelry, watch the first thing, and later necklace, if he had any bracelet would be the third step of his routine.

“The whole Seungcheol marriage thing?”

“Well, you don’t have to deal with him drunk every Friday night telling you how overwhelmed and how he feels trapped since they set the wedding date,” Jeonghan says shrugging. 

“You told me he was going on and on about how great marriage is,” you say sitting on the bed, trying to understand all the things you apparently didn't know about Jeonghan and Seungcheol.

“Yeah, he has his own list of cons in his note app," Jeonghan huffs, "every time he thinks about calling it off, I think I just memorized it because he reads more than once a day”

“Fuck,” you say in a breath. In your own mind, Seungcheol not even once doubted his choice to get married, not even once seemed unsure of his decision.

“I was the one that said Vegas," Jeonghan says sitting on your side, both of you looking at the widow that faces a fucking parking lot, "I thought that he would get drunk enough to actually mess everything up because he can’t do sober, and by mess everything up I mean breaking up with his crazy girlfriend."

“Yeah, still, you didn’t need to be a fucking asshole,” you say seriously this time trying to face him.

“Well, I panicked ok?" Jeonghan finally breaks, "I wasn’t going to tell that man who is having a daily mental breakdown that we married in fucking Vegas.”

“I mean, I don't know about you but I think your friendship with Seungcheol is more important than being lectured because you married in Vegas, Hannie,” you tell him softly, patting his thigh.

“Well,” Jeonghan says, letting his hand on top of yours, “I guess I can't be gracious always,” he says with a sad smile.

“I know you are stressed out," You say calmly, "but you lashed out at Seungcheol and it wasn't great,”

“The fuck you are defending him for?” Jeonghan says standing up and pretending he is searching for something in that damn room.

“Are you serious?”

“What?" Jeonghan chuckles, "he can go on and on about how I am a commitment-phobe type of guy who is fucked up enough to not have a fiancée like him and it is all good and fun and games? But when I call out his fucking weird relationship I am the bad guy?”

“Jeonghan,” You try but before you can even finish he cuts you.

“No, don't Jeonghan me, the fuck,” he retorted, “you have the excuse of not knowing because I don't tell you, you could think I am an asshole and a horrible boyfriend because every time someone breaks up with me even though I am a great catch,” he laughs bitterly, “You can do that, Seungcheol can't do that, he doesn't have an excuse, he knows why.”

“I never ever think about you like that,” you say sincerely because it is the truth, never once have you thought about Jeonghan being afraid of commitment or being a shit asshole. You always thought about how every girlfriend of his always looked and sounded more in love with him than the other way around, but that wasn't exactly a character flaw.

“I know,” he says already sounding exhausted.

“No I don't think you do,” you say sternly, “like it never crossed my mind really, I always thought about how they were crazy for letting you go, so what you don't want to marry someone? the fuck you can still have a great life and a great relationship with someone without a ring, and I know you are capable of it," and to your own ears you sound almost bitter, how they could be so dumb? To have a chance to have Jeonghan and let him go? “You have always been there for me, you never once wavered, I have no reason to ever think of you in that light and I don't think Seungcheol is being fair, he wasn't, but he is getting married in three weeks Han.”

“Yeah and I am telling him his girlfriend has been a freak since week two when she threw a fit because she was jealous of you,” Jeonghan says shocking you, "because according to her own crazy brain, you are way too close to men so who knows what you will do when she turns her back."

“Of me?” You say pointing at yourself, “Damn, she is crazy."

“That’s what I am trying to tell him, and he isn't fuck listening I guess.”

The whole afternoon you think about Jeonghan.

You think about him when he is lying in the bed on his cellphone, and you continuously think about him when you find him napping in the same bed. You think about everything you don't know about your friend, and you think about everything he doesn’t share with you, that he chooses not to. And you know every single human has secrets, and there are things Jeonghan doesn't know about you too. But knowing that it is one thing, dealing with the emotions that come with it is another thing altogether. Why he would not tell you? Why he would tell Seungcheol?

Those questions live in your brain, rattling and making sounds every time they crash against your skull. You think about your friendship as well. Jeonghan was always there for you. He was there when you had your first heartbreak in the third year of high school, he was there when Mark broke up with you in college, and he was there every step of the way. He was there when you were sick, he was there when your favorite auntie died, he was there when you were panicking before your first job interview, he was there. You just couldn't wrap your mind around the fact that someone would call a man like that a commitment phobe or break up with him.

And what he said was true in some way, Jeonghan never broke up with anyone, he was always the one who was dumped and weirdly okay with it. Every time you talked about someone who didn't know Jeonghan you always painted him as the perfect guy, and it was true - he had a great job and his bank account was crazy even though he worked to the capital devil, he was someone who ha they shit together too, he helped his parent, he helped his friend, his house was never messy.

Every time you broke up with someone you talked about how you wanted a guy just like Jeonghan, nice and fun, but also low maintenance in a way, someone you could just comfortable be being with, without having to try too hard and do too much. And every time you met someone new, you always trusted Jeonghan's opinion, if he vetoed someone he had his reasons, like the weird guy that two months later was on the news because he emptied someone's bank account because they let their bank account info saved on the computer or something like that.

If you thought about it - really being married to Jeonghan was not even close to the worst thing that happened to you. Founding a dead rat once in the subway was worse, or that time when you found out that your roommate left the door open for weeks before you just never went to sleep before her just so you could make sure to close the door, and 95% of the time she didn't close the fucking door, that was worse than being married to Jeonghan.

“The fuck?” Jeonghan groans.

“What?”

“Apparently I messaged my account manager our marriage certificate asking if he could officialize the house-buying proposal, and apparently the bank green flaged it? The owner needs to accept the proposal of course, and it may take a while but-" Jeonghan stops halfway, almost like zooming out, staring at the wall ahead of him.

“I guess you are soon to be a house owner?” You question bringing Jeonghan back to reality.

“No, no-"

“Seriously if it is something that is helping you I don't mind, we can come back to Vegas a few weeks after the deal to annul it I looked up online it is not that hard we just need the documentation and the wedding certificate so," and it was true - you did research how to deal with the whole thing, it seemed easy, maybe that's why they actually let people marry crazy drunk, so they can pay to annul it and the city double the revenue, apparently crazy amount of drinking and casinos were not paying the bill.

“About that,” Jeonghan says, his hands tugging the sides of his hair.

“About what?” You ask.

"The wedding certificate,” he says, finally looking at you, his eyes big and still puffy because of his nap, “I think, I mean- I am pretty sure it is shredded with the receipt and invoice."

“What the fuck Jeonghan?” You shout, oh man, you are going to kill this man. The image is already on your head - jumping on that very same bed like a crazy woman and kicking him before you just kill him with your bare hands.

“I know,” he says almost in a grunt, laying down like a starfish.

“Why did you shred everything up for god's sake," you say almost stopping on the floor.

“I don't know okay?" Jeonghan says, sitting on the bed now, his cellphone forgotten, "Why did we marry? Can you answer that?”

“OOh," you huff, "We did get married, but I am soon to be a window if I don't kill in the next five minutes I swear to god”

“Wait, what changed if it is helping me?” Jeonghan says, back to his mischievous self, with a small smile across his face almost finding endearing the way that you try to threaten his life.

“You are making everything argh-” You are losing your damn mind and if you end up crazy it is Jeonghan's fault, now that he is indeed your husband has another tingle to you like a thriller movie, but you are afraid you are in your own Cameron Diaz Ashton Kutcher low budget 00's movie. Maybe you should take the whole thriller movie, it seems, weirdly, less weird. "First we cannot return this ring now I have to find someone who wants to buy it without documentation so everyone will think this shit is totally fake, I mean I would too, don't get me wrong I wouldn't trust myself either with this jewelry," you go off - almost missing the point, rambling really, before you get back to the point, "now we need to find a second copy of this certificate I swear to god we could just go to the nearest courtroom and annul the wedding I googled it." 

"I already told you you can keep the ring," Jeonghan says - voice low in contrast to your high-pitched complaints.

"Why would I keep this ring Jeonghan?" You question, it sounds weird in your own ears.

The truth is, you did love the ring, it is a beautiful ring but the truth is - you can't keep it. It shouldn't be yours to keep. It should go to someone Jeonghan wants to actually marry, even though you can't bring yourself to take it off your finger, even though you didn't even try to take it off after this morning.

And a breath almost gets locked in your throat. Why? You think, and deep down you know you have your answer but you just shove everything down when you hear Jeonghan's voice, "Well If you sell it I won't take the money."

"I can just pour it into my savings accounts," you say petulantly.

"The fuck," Jeonghan bites back.

"What? You said you didn't want it so I can keep the money," You try your best to sound even close to someone somewhat rational in this matter.

"It is a present you can't sell a present," Jeonghan though, never has a problem looking like he is saying the most rational thing ever even when it doesn't make any sense.

"I totally can," you bite back trying to hold your ground just out of pure spite. He didn't accept that cursed ring which is not even supposed to be yours why the hell he is making such a big deal of you selling or throwing it in the sea?

"You can't," Jeonghan says again, and you think back to your friendship and a lot of times it was like that - a lot of things without proper explanations.

"Why not?" So you just hold your ground - again, he will not win this one, this time he will have to explain.

"Because it is a present I picked up for you. I actually thought about it, I mean before drinking buying apparently, but I thought it would suit you" Jeonghan says, "Just don't sell, if you don't want to use it okay fine but just, just don't sell it, don't hurt a man's pride like that,"

You want to try again - to say you will sell this damn ring if you go to the store and it can't be returned, and you want to say you will throw it on the nearest river because Las Vegas is indeed very far from the sea. You want to push him until he says okay I take the damn ring and I will hold onto it and pass it through generations. But when Jeonghan speaks and he sounds so tired and so hurt you just give up and lock yourself in the bathroom pretending to take a shower before leaving this hellhole of a place.

You look at yourself in the mirror and ask yourself how the hell everything happened in such a short amount of time. A marriage, a fight, a ring that makes you go crazy. Maybe you are closer to having a breakdown, maybe it is the time to face things that you are trying to keep hidden under the rug. You think that maybe it is time to just downpour everything.

But like always, you don't. You bottle everything up and pretend that everything is fine.

The last few days in Vegas have been less eventful, thanks God. Jeonghan and you go to weird restaurants and for a walk around the town, and you think about how you got married in the city of Sins.

At least it is fitting to think that pride and wrath have something to do with your own stay in this city.

You often think about Seungcheol, sending him and Seokmin a message or two, or a total of 15. Seokmin answers you, Seungcheol doesn't. And you need to hold yourself back when you type down a fuck you but don't send. You try to pry on Jeonghan's end too, but after the third time that he just doesn't answer you with words but just a cold stare you just let it go. Maybe that's why Seungcheol and Jeonghan have been friends for so long - pieces of the same cloth.

The flight back is not that tricky but at the same time when Jeonghan drops you out at your door, you are ready for a 30 minutes shower and drop dead for a whole week. When you open the door you are glad that your roommate at least remembered to close and lock the door. Character development you think, maybe she is getting better, maybe you don't need to actually move into Jeonghan's house as a safety precaution. But something doesn't seem quite right - there is a new sofa in the living room, which isn't exactly a problem, really, your sofa kinda sucked. But when you look again, you understand what is missing.

No, she didn't, she would not be that crazy. You refuse to believe that. You left all your luggage in the middle of the living room and ran to your bed, maybe she put the side table there, of course, maybe she just moved because the new sofa seems bigger. But there is nothing that resembles the side table in your room, so you try again - her room now, still nothing.

You send a message.

You try to call.

So you try the next best thing - call Jeonghan so he can calm you down. He doesn't pick up.  You sit on the floor, right beside your luggage, and you refuse to sit down on that sofa, it is pretty it seems comfortable but now is the object that you hate the most. You would prefer, I don't know, to take part in a scientific experiment that might fuck up your brain function than sit down on that thing.

The concept of time and space is a funny thing you think when you lose count of how many minutes or hours you have been staring at the door, it has been probably a long time. Until your roommate opens the door with a big guy by her side, great, all that you needed was an audience for your lash out.

"Oh," she says, big guy with his big hands on her hips and he knows he is not getting laid today, because he sees you and he gets so upright he seems like a fucking power pole, "I didn't know you would be back today."

"Laurel, darling, where is my side table?" You ask without beating around the bush.

"Oh right," she says letting her keys on the counter without fucking locking the door you have never been closer to a have a fucking stroke, you can feel your blood pressure rising, "the sofa was a bit bigger, you know I told you I was thinking about changing and this was on discount, but the table didn't really had a place in the room anymore so I put on marketplace a cute girl come up to pick in the same day, great right?"

You blink once, twice, and the words don't even come, you are so astonished that you are left speechless. Maybe you could get over the unsaid desire of getting murdered by a serial killer, and maybe you could get over the leftover food on the counter, and you could even get over the whole singing in the shower when you are fucking tone-deaf really.

But that. That was one thing you could never get over.

"Are you fucking insane? Are you fucking crazy?" You ask, the big guy taking a step back, "Or do you just have fun being the most self-centered bitch in this part of the country?"

"What the fuck?" She says, and oh god, you want to jump on her bones, you want to leave this woman bald.

"Did you ask Laurel?" You ask again, remaining sitting on the floor because if you pick yourself up you are probably no longer be a first-time offender. "Did you ever think about asking if you could sell, give or even create a fucking bonfire with the wood of my deceased auntie's side table? Did you fucking asked?"

"Oh I didn't know," she says simply. You feel the tears streaming down your face and you don't actually know if it is because of sadness or anger.

"So funny Laurel because I don't even fucking know how you function like a human being because your brain is so fucking empty of common sense really," you bristled, finally getting up and picking up your big backup, "Look I don't know how I don't care really, it is up to you, but you get my table back in perfect state, and you will pay this month rent fully because I am not living with you I would prefer Satan as my roommate really, and you may as well find another roommate because I will not move a muscle to put someone inside this apartment," You say moving past Laurel and the crazy big guy, "and by the way Laurel? I would fucking lock the door today you don't really think about how many insane people leave in this world."

You say finally get out of the apartment.

You don't really stop walking because you are afraid you will just fall on the ground, crying in the middle of the street in the fetal position, not really a pretty picture. You know Jeonghan's house is not really far, a twenty minute walk. You wish you had an epiphany when you see yourself at his door, a moment to say 'wow why am I here?'. But you know yourself enough to know why, you know Jeonghan enough to know why you are at his door.

You know Jeonghan will open the door for you, and you hope deep down that he will hunt Laurel-the-sattan-spit-roommate down.

When Jeonghan opens the door, he looks puzzled, his face shows that he is trying to understand what is happening. You are sure he was ready to say that he didn't order something and to check on his neighbor.

"What happened?" Jeonghan asks when he sees you on his door instead of a lost delivery guy.

"Laurel," you say, and before having the chance to say anything else, you already feel the pain, you don't want to cry but you end up doing that nonetheless. You even hiccup once or twice before you feel Jeonghan's arms against you, enveloping you, making you feel safe.

"What did she do?" Jeonghan tries again, one of his hands still around you, while the other cradles your head, his hand softly stroking your head.

"She sold my side table," you say, still hiccuping your way through the sentence and you feel so fucking dumb, crying in Jeonghan's arms, and you feel Jeonghan's body goes completely rigid before he holds your face in his hands and you almost flinch because you cannot face that man in this state, and second, his hands are cold.

"She sold your side table?" He asks and you just nod, it is the only thing you can do, "The side table?" He tries again just to receive the same reaction, his hands wrap around you, but this time he hugs you tighter, your head smashed against his chest and somehow you find a resemblance of comfort.

Jeonghan takes you to the kitchen, and when you feel his arms release you, you just sink to the ground, your back to the cabinets. Jeonghan hands you a cup of water, and hugs you again, his hands rubbing your back like you are some kind of a toddler, and that alone makes you sniff even more. That motion alone takes you back to your college days when you went back home to your auntie's funeral - Jeonghan drove the whole way, and the only sound inside the car was you crying. Back then you didn't know that Jeonghan lost an important exam so he could drive you back home, later when he was pilled with an ungodly amount of work and told you he needed to do an extra project so he didn't fluke his class you cried all over again - part of it because you felt guilty, part of it was because it was Jeonghan, and you could count on him for anything.

And here he was, years later taking care of you again. You never doubt he would, that alone - the certainty that Jeonghan is in your life should scare you, but it never did. Not now, and not even back in college when Seungcheol joked about every time a new girl showed up alongside Jeonghan. Somehow you knew that Jeonghan would be there if you needed him, if you ever shouted that man would run leaps. The thing was, Jeonghan never told you anything remotely close to make you believe that, he never promised you anything, but Jeonghan actions always reassured you that no matter what, he would be there if you needed him the most.

You think about it how - weirdly - you were never in that position, how you never once was that person to Jeonghan, the person that reassure Jeonghan or be someone he could lean on. There is a deep down desire that you don't quite acknowledge over the years - that you want to be someone important to Jeonghan. Someone as important as Jeonghan is to you.

When you feel you can finally breathe you get out of Jeonghan's hold to go to the bathroom, in a way searching a way to escape your own feelings and thoughts, pretending you just need to wash your face. When you return to the kitchen, Jeonghan is in the same place, sitting on the floor staring at his own hands. Now, calmer, you take the whole scene of the kitchen; the single glass of wine on the counter, the open bottle, Jeonghan's cellphone, and his notebook.

“Were you drinking?” You ask after a while, sitting on his sides and copying his positions - legs stretched and back flushed against the cabinets. The hiccups are still there but they’re less frequent now, and you can finally breathe on your own.

“Yeah I was,” Jeonghan says, stretching his legs and looking at his feet cladded with old socks.

Jeonghan thinks about the minutes before you arrived, how he was just scrolling on his phone and drinking alone because his mood was so dreadful that he didn't want to make anyone suffer in his company. The only person he would subject to a vent session was Seungcheol, so drinking alone was the only answer. The truth is plain and simple really - Jeonghan has been feeling miserable for quite some time now, mainly because even though it pays extremely well his job sucks. He works for and with shitty people, but it pays well, so that should be enough - why it isn't? But all of that seems so fucking small against the feeling of you losing the last physical thing of someone you loved, someone who was so important to you.

“Why were you drinking alone Jeonghan?” You ask, giving his thigh little taps but still looking ahead - you see yourself in the mirror, you are so swollen you can't face the man like that.

“I,” Jeonghan ponders, thinking about if it is the right time to just go on a tangent about how he works sucks, how his best friend isn't talking to him, and how he wants to go back to his high schooler self and just start everything over, even if he fucks everything over is way better than this gray area that he is stuck on. “We can talk about me another time,”

“Just," You breathe deeply, your head almost knocking against the counter door, "do it for me then,” you tell him softly, almost pleading, “tell me so I can take my mind off this shit.”

“I think,” Jeonghan says, “no, scratch that,” he laughs dryly, “I am sure that I am fucking miserable,” he looks at you waiting for your reaction, “and I’ve been miserable for a while, I just fucking hate everything,”

“Han-” you try to say, and you almost feel like you don't have tears anymore, but if you could physically cry you would.

“I am not depressed, don’t worry, I just,” he trails off, “I hate that fucking job and if I have to spend another year there I would probably kill a rich guy, I have a few investments, and I have savings, and I-”

“You should buy the house,” You blurt out, remembering Jeonghan's eyes looking at the pictures of the house.

“What?” Jeonghan says almost choking on nothing.

“You should buy the house, just give me one room and I will pay rent, we can share utilities and food, and then you can quit,” you declared like it was something people just do on a whim, like you are not even having a stroke just thinking about the process of ending your lease contract, but the sky can open you are not sharing another day in that apartment.

“Not a great deal when I have a fucking loan on my name,” Jeonghan bemused, almost laughing at your non-sense.

“Just don’t tell the bank,” you shrug.

“Well,” Jeonghan says, almost like he is trying to assess the situation, see how everything could plan out from different angles.

“Come on, tell me,” You say finally caving into your curiosity, poking Jeonghan with your elbow.

“Tell you what?” Jeonghan asks but you can feel the playful tone in his voice, almost a childlike wonder of being caught doing something he shouldn't do.

“What is the plan?” You whisper - you don't know why but this whole thing seems like a secret, like something Jeonghan doesn't want to see the light of day yet, something he has been keeping under wraps.

“What plan?”

“I know you Jeonghan," You say finally looking at him, a small smile still stretched across his face, "I have known you for quite a while, come on, don’t underestimate me,”

“What are you talking about?” Jeonghan says playing the fool but the smile is still there, making you probe a little bit more.

“I know you, you would never think about quitting without a black plan besides having a few savings and weird investments, tell me,” You almost pleaded, turning your body to him, your hands on his thighs supporting your own weight on him. And you know you need to bring out the big guns - the begging eyes, almost laughing at yourself.

“Fuck,” Jeonghan laughs at you, his head tilting back and all, like you are the most amusing creature ever.

“Come on,” you urge, using your hands on his leg to almost shake him.

“It is not a plan, it is a desire,” he begins, “I’m thinking about sitting down and doing a few design classes, it can be online but,”

“No-” You say surprised, your smile big across your face because you know where this is going.

“Maybe,” he says still leaning on the counter, eyes closed and that infuriating smile still on.

“You can totally do it,” you tell him almost jumping on your place.

“It is not a plan yet,” he explains, in a vain attempt to make you tone down your excitement, but every time he looks at you he thinks he can give you that, soothe your pain with his dreams and hopes that won't really get out of paper. At least today he can do that for you.

“I can help you,” you say, finally changing positions and sitting almost by his feet, facing him, Jeonghan's hand on your ankle.

“How can you help me?” He asks you, squeezing your ankle and you pretend you are going to kick him, but he just holds your ankle and puts it on his lap.

“We can do it,” you say completely seriously because you truly believe he can do it, achieving his teenage dream job. “You know me, I am an army general, I have discipline, and I love a good worksheet, I am an editor,"

“What you being an editor has to do with it?” Jeonghan says while he tickles your feet, making you almost jerk.

"Stop that," you say using your other to nudge him, "I did a few children's books mind you,” you say, using your free hand to pinch Jeonghan's feet in the form of a threat, “I know how to promote things, I know how to deal with due dates and with manufacturers, you just need to sit down after lunch watch your boring ass class like a college student and hand your resignation letter,”

“It is not something that will actually work and be profitable,” Jeonghan huffs.

“Jeonghan, be honest with me,” you say, this time in a more serious tone.

“Okay,” He says, hands leaving your feet and closing together on his stomach.

“Would you ever take that leap with you couldn’t live till 90 years old with the money you have on the back?” You joke, breaking him in half, his laughter resonating in the kitchen.

“No?” He jokes back.

“We are doing it,” you say like his opinion in his own laugh and plans don't actually matter that much, but Jeonghan just smiles back at you - sometimes, he thinks about how you are the only one who can actually match his insanity, the only one that goes with his plan, or come up with even weird ones.

And Jeonghan knows he is fucked, because every time he thinks he can’t love you more you show him that love grows and expands beyond borders. Lately, Jeonghan favorite song is My Love Mine All Mine, and when he looks at you, in his kitchen, face still swollen and red from crying Mitski sings in his ear - Nothing in the world belongs to me But my love, mine, all mine Nothing in the world is mine for free But my love, mine, all mine, all mine. It resonates with him, the fact that his love for you is his to carry. And this alone makes Jeonghan happy in a weird way, because he knows how much love you deserve, and he is happy that he is the one that loves you, and he loves you for free.

Even though Jeonghan knows you don’t love him like he does love you he thinks about how you are the only person that is always there for him. Everyone that he knows would make Jeonghan just let it go. Why the fuck he would build a business around children’s toys? Why would he resign and leave a great career that gives enough money and intel to just go around and draw a few rabbits and frogs on a page? Just because of joy? Jeonghan always knew that joy alone could not make you survive on this earth.

But yet you were doing just that. Telling him to drop everything and just try to be happy. Right now Jeonghan could drop on his knee and ask you to marry him if you weren’t legally married and if he wasn’t a fucking coward. Sometimes he hates himself for that, the way he holds onto something he knows it is not quite enough but it is the only thing he can have.

Jeonghan thinks about- everything really, but mostly how joyful you are in your own way. How you would buy sweet treats just for the sake of it, how you had every single first copy of the books you worked on even if they were beaten in the process and almost unreadable. He thinks about the first time you showed up on his door, a big book in hands and a smile across your face, buzzing full of pride because it was your first fucking book and your boss give you one in the very first batch - back then you were just the one that did the toughest job, reviewing everything.

Jeonghan knows he loves you, he knows for quite a while.

Jeonghan knew before the first girlfriend dumped him because he was jealous of you. When his third girlfriend asked him if he liked you he couldn’t even lie, when his fifth girlfriend broke up and for the fifth time, the reason was you he just stopped trying dates altogether.

Jeonghan doesn't remember much of the marriage itself, he remembers bits and pieces of an Elton John in a 70's costume and how the chapel was way hotter, making Jeonghan's armpits wet, not a great look for a groom. But he remembers everything before that - in a less hazed lens. He remembers telling you in the hotel bar how he loved you for quite a while now, and how you looked so shocked - telling him he should quit lying. He swore on his first dog's grave, weirdly that made you believe him. He told you how he hated Mark - your college boyfriend that literature guy who gave you poems that you still keep as presents, he remembers you saying how you would keep every post-it note if Jeonghan wrote them in the future. It was a promise, you said holding your pinkie finger out for him. He remembers buying you the ring, you outside the store because he knew you would think that the chosen ring was too much, too big, too expensive, any ring will do it you told him before letting him inside, but he couldn't do it, he could only choose the prettiest ring for the prettiest girl. 

Jeonghan remembers his vow, promising he would take care of you, that he would write love letters for the rest of his life on every special date because you hated presents. And Jeonghan remembers how you two kissed in the chapel, on the uber back to the hotel, in the hotel room - more than you should have, because now it is the only thing he can think about it and you don't fuck remember. Jeonghan thought about running, about changing cities and even country - investments were pretty much the same everywhere in the world really. But the reality was that even if he moved, his love was still his to keep, and he would do that heartedly. He was a coward, but he still had his pride, and if that was the price to pay, then, be It.

“Hey, come here,” He says, finally lifting himself off the ground.

“What?” You ask, looking at him still sitting on the floor.

“Come here,” He says again, giving his hands so you can get up.

“What? You are weird what is going on,” you say finally getting up on your feet.

“Come here,” Jeonghan says and before you approach him his arms are already by your side, enveloping you in a thigh hug. “Thank you,” he says softly, “thank you for everything really,”

“Are you drunk Yoon Jeonghan?” you ask, your own voice muffled by the tight embrace.

“No,” Jeonghan laughs, and you can feel his whole body move, “I’m serious, thank you for being there for me even when you have shit on your own to deal with,” He says, his chin on top of your head, “and thank you for not thinking I am a commitment phobic asshole.”

“You are still on that? I told you I never saw you like that stop being dumb."

“I know, I am just-” Jeonghan doesn't finish his sentence, his arms still around you, his heart beating by your ear.

“Look you are drunk, at least there is nothing much we can fuck up being drunk together after getting married in Vegas," you say and Jeonghan feels a pang, almost like when he stubs his little finger on the corner of random furniture, but he doesn't say anything, "give me a sip of your wine you asshole,” you say getting free of his embrace and holding the bottle of wine

“Come on! Don’t drink it straight from the bottle, there is a glass right there!” Jeonghan protested.

“Come on Yoon Jeonghan, I know you, I know you since you didn’t have enough cups in your first kitchen, don't play the proper guy with me,” you say like basic manners don't exist, and sitting on his counter.

“I grow up I am an adult now,” Jeonghan says, but he doesn't really move a muscle to pick another glass of wine for you, he thinks it is his biggest flaw - the fact that you can walk over him countless times and Yoon Jeonghan will just let you do whatever you want even if he pretends that it is against his will.

“Oh, totally,” You look at him, and even though the phrase itself has a bite to it your voice is honest, “Not to go back to sappy times, but you really did Hannie, you are really growing so much, and I am so proud of you,”

"Shhhh-” Jeonghan murmurs trying to shut you up and you know it is mainly because he is so fucking shy that you almost laugh.

“By the way,” You say taking another sip from the bottle. “I’m so moving in with you and I can even deal with only one room if you don’t sell any of my stuff.”

“Shut up,” Jeonghan says kissing the top of your head, “you can have the whole house, just don’t set it on fire.”

Ultimately, that actually happens.

You actually move with Jeonghan into his dream house. The house is 98% bare, without the furniture of the last owner besides the utilities. But a) it is better than living with your satan-spit roommate, b) Jeonghan has been sleeping on his own couch for over two weeks now because even though you say it is okay you can't spend that time in your own apartment he refuses to let you near Laurel.

But somehow, Jeonghan and you make a home out of the new house. You take the bookshelves on the left, all the books you edited in your lifetime on a special shelf right in your point of view. Jeonghan takes the bookshelves on the right, a lot of the books you edited and gifted him are scattered across it because he doesn’t really care about arranging his shelves in a particular order.

Every time Jeonghan sees a nice piece of furniture he sends you a picture of it, and you two chat about if it fits the room, and the colors would clash. In a weird way your collection of cups and mugs triples the size, indeed you are engrossed with buying new ones, but the thing is - you always pick two of them now. Jeonghan’s favorite is a weird bunny mug that you never actually use because it ears always make drinking anything impractical.

You two also build a weirdly oiled routine. You two eat breakfast together, Jeonghan wakes up early and when he is just arriving for his morning run you are already scrabbling eggs. When Jeonghan is ready for work you are ready for your own run. When Jeonghan arrives from work you still have one hour to go, so in the end he is the one to always cook dinner. After you two share the dishes and eat something sweet as the dessert the kitchen counter - previously used as a dinner table, now acts an officer table.

While Jeonghan looks up some designer classes, you search manufacturers. When he draws a cute rabbit girl that he named Ttoram, you try to understand how a business works, how you file taxes for it? Sometimes Jeonghan does the dirty work himself after he finishes a new version so you get your pink glittery pen and write in post-it what you think about the new product; ‘what is this material arrow-drawing pointing to a specific part of a squish toy’, ‘her head seems big are you sure she won't flop head first in someone’s bed?’, ‘are you sure? I think lamps are quite expensive.

The house gets filled with new art supplies, sometimes Jeonghan orders a bunch of them online, and sometimes you are the one that brings back a single pen or a new colored pencil that you pick up in arts stories every time you go to a meeting. The house is filled with paper and drawings, your favorite ones is always the first drafts - the ones that Jeonghan does on the non-quality paper, the ones that he does on pieces of paper, the ones that look less refined and to you are filled with children-like joy.

Another curious thing is how somehow you and Jeonghan seemed very addicted to post-it. Besides the practical use in the drawing drafts because Jeonghan was an old soul who couldn’t do his work on an Ipad like a normal human being in this day and age, you also used to communicate - ‘please buy eggs!’ you wrote and left on the kitchen door, ‘already set a reminder on my phone so i don’t forget to stop at the market!’ jeonghan replied. “Didn’t see u before I left :( don’t forget to take breaks” he wrote, somehow the post-it ended up in your office, and you glued it on the computer screen beside one green post-it with a frog with a raincoat on.

Every time the fridge was out of space for new ones you took them off one by one, with a smile on your face, and kept them in a box, safely stored. You always noticed one or two missing but you always thought the wind knocked them out and Jeonghan, that traitor, threw them in the garbage. In short, everything stayed the same with a daily dose of domestic life. The problem was - that it didn’t stay the same for very long.

And as hard as it was to admit, it was your fault.

There was no way around it.

It weirdly began every time you saw Jeonghan around the stove. The fact that Jeonghan was beautiful-handsome-pretty was not news to you. You, and every human being that laid eyes on him, always reached the point where you acknowledged how pretty Jeonghan was. In college it was a fucking nightmare, guys and girls banging on his dorm room when you two were watching a movie just because they thought Jeonghan was alone - the fact that he didn’t have a roommate because he bribed someone (one of the most Jeonghan acts that you ever witnessed, but that was beside the point - really) only added to the fact that 87% of his course thought he was down to bang anytime. The truth was that you always knew that Jeonghan was someone objectively good-looking, but there was a catch, even though Jeonghan was beautiful you didn’t really feel attracted to him and he knew that. Countless times you told him he was too pretty for his own good along with the lines that he wasn’t your type, ‘what the fuck that supposed to mean’ he answered the first time you said that, back in high school. With time it turned out to be your standard answer to every girl that was attracted to him and wanted a shot with him but somehow thought he was your boyfriend.

You know that Jeonghan is good-looking, and you know that for fucking years so why are you going a little insane every time you get in the kitchen and the man is cutting some onions? Truly it happens in the weirdest hours, out of nowhere, your brain reminds you how hot Jeonghan is - and that is even scarier because you knew that the man was handsome, but hot? That’s a new development. Once he arrived from his morning run, his hair a little damp, sweat dripping down his neck, and only with a thigh shirt because he already removed his go-to wind-breaker and you almost collapsed on the kitchen floor. That alone was mind-blowing.

The horrors begin when you just couldn’t deal with his touch without your mind going to the fucking gutter. When he touched your hips to make your move because he wanted to open a drawer, or when he dropped down on the sofa without leaving space between your bodies, his hand tapping your thigh. Out of nowhere, you are combusting because his hand feels hot against your skin, goosebumps appearing across your skin Jeonghan asks you if you are cold. And the fact that Jeonghan is touching you isn't necessarily super weird, he always did that, but somehow you feel that his touches changed and you can't quite pinpoint how besides the fact that you are reacting differently.

It doesn't really help your case that Jeonghan develops a weird habit of wrapping his arm around your neck. It happens everywhere, even in public and every time you can feel yourself grow a little hotter. You were supposed to pay attention to Minghao’s new paintings, a designer slash illustrator slash painter whom you worked with for a few book covers, and somehow in the middle of the opening of his new exposition, you can’t even think about the impasto on his oil paintings because Jeonghan hands feels heavy on your neck, his fingers touching the lateral of it almost rubbing. Every time you take a step to try to see the paintings up close Jeonghan doesn’t let you leave his hold, his body close enough to be pressed against your back, half of your back feeling hot because of his presence, half of it feeling cold because of his absence.

“Hao!” You say when you finally see the man of the hour, black hair on black coats, his hands behind his back looking around all the people that came just to appreciate his work.

“Hey,” He says opening his arms for you.

“Congratulations,” you say feeling the arms of Minghao around your back, your body though prefer to pay attention to the weight of Jeonghan’s eyes on you, “everything is mind blowing,” you say to the man - his hands still on your body, yours on his shoulder, until you hear Jeonghan clearing his throat in order to get you to notice his existence, and you almost laugh, “Hao this is Jeonghan, Jeonghan this is Minghao.”

“Great job man,” Jeonghan says in a weird tone, giving Minghao two little pats on the back and taking a step by your side, his hand on your waist.

“Thank you,” Minghao says politely, like he always does, “It is a pleasure to meet you, you are in the book industry too?” Minghao asks with his hands in his pocket,

“No,” Jeonghan almost scoffs, him? and books? God forbid, “I work with investment these type of things,”

“Oh, so you are not in the art business then,” Minghao acknowledges and you know his interest peaked even though you don't know why, maybe because you know Jeonghan so well you don't have much to unfold, while Minghao just seems weirded out by the fact that you have a Wall Street dude by your side.

“Oh Hao you always flatter me when you include me in the art business,” you say jokingly, reminiscing one of the many conversations you had with Minghao over a bottle of wine.

“I told you," a sly smile across his face, "books are a matter of passion.”

“You did,” you say somewhat reminiscing of the talk you two had back then. It was after calling him up for his second cover, after a meeting where he made you go through the book's motifs and ideas so he could have a feeling of what he should focus on.

“You should come to the after party,” Minghao says, “we could catch up,”

“Yeah I don’t think we can,” Jeonghan says while he checks his watch, he knows the question wasn't directed to him, he isn't stupid and he has two eyes, but he also is a stubborn motherfucker and now he just wants to ruin Minghao's night, and he is not about to Banksy this place up with shredded art pieces - because he is afraid his bank account can't take the lawsuit. “I have a work meeting tomorrow morning” Jeonghan reminds you, his fingers still on your waist.

“Still,” Minghao says, looking puzzled by you two, “you can stay right?”

“I’m afraid I can’t,” you say sorry “Han is driving us back so-”

“Is your phone number still the same?” Minghao asks without dropping a beat, and Jeonghan can give him that, he doesn't know Minghao but the guy just doesn't quit - he knows a stubborn guy when he sees one.

“Yeah, I didn’t change, but if you need you can e-mail me and-” You say before someone calls Minghao, it is his opening after all, a guy in the suit makes a gesture to him when the three of you look to see who was the owner of the voice.

“Sorry, I have to go, but I will call you," He says before giving you a kiss on the cheeks and walking to the guy who just called him.

Jeonghan snorts, really, what was that? He shouldn't find it so funny but it is. He takes a step back, his hands leaving you, while he looks at the painting. You know he is just pretending to analyze everything.

“What?” You ask him - missing his hand on your waist, on your neck, missing his presence around you.

“Nothing,” he says shaking his head, he is biting back a smile - laughter really, and you want to know what it is so funny, you are curious about what is going on in his head.

“It can’t be nothing come on,” you press on, your hand on his shoulder in a way to get some sort of touch from him, to regain some sort of proximity.

“Just-” Jeonghan stops, in front of another painting, his hand going back to your waist, and at the same time you think you can finally breathe again, your breath feels trapped in your throat, making you swallow on nothing, “You didn’t tell me it was an opening night to your ex-fling," he says. Eyes almost tinkling under the light and you know where this is going.

“Hao isn’t my ex fling what are you talking about?” You pretend, trying to get out of this situation because you know somehow Jeonghan will pry on, and he knows how to push your buttons enough just so you can spill everything he wants to know.

“Not fling then," Jeonghan says, hand still on your waist when he starts walking around the gallery with you by his side, until another painting that he really doesn't really care about, "an one night stand.”

“He is a friend," almost rolling your eyes at him, "I told you, I know him because of work,”

“So you are telling me you guys didn’t fuck?” And even though his words my seem harsh his tone is still light - he was truly a jerk but why are you smiling at him?

“Jeonghan, what the fuck?” You yelped, making Jeonghan's sly smile appear again.

“What?” He asks eyes still on you when you pretend to pay attention to the orange painting in front of you.

“Keep your voice low,” you mouthed, “we didn’t fuck,” you tell him again, and it was the truth, but somehow Jeonghan knew how to read between your words.

“Well,” he began, still looking at you even when he tilted his head to the side, a sly smile still on his face like he could see through you like you couldn't keep anything under wraps, and you could feel the goosebumps on the nape of your neck, your whole body tingling, “I am pretty sure it wasn’t for lacking trying on his part.”

“It would be too messy,” you finally blurt it out.

“Ah of course," Jeonghan laughs again and it almost sounds bitter to you, "so he did try, it was after or before saying the book and passion line?”

“After,” you say, your time to laugh, even though you feel the heat on your skin, a crazy addition to new feels because you are not one to actually feel shy around Jeonghan.

“And you laid him down too gently,” he acknowledges, eyes moving through the room again. You follow his gaze, seeing Minghao watching the both of you across the room, you just greet him with a smile.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You ask him, pressing your body on his sides until his arms are back on you.

“Well," Jeonghan breathes, his eyes still rummaging around the room, "I know you can break a guy's heart but apparently you lost your touch with that one because he is still down to fuck.”

“Jeonghan!” You gasped, “No he isn’t you are seeing things like you always do.” You tell him, Jeonghan had this weird superpower that he tuned in college - he could tell a guy was somehow interested in you from miles away, the first few times you actually made a bet on it; fifteen dollars, to pay him for a meal, to go with him to a frat party that his friend Soonyoung was hosting. After the fifth time, you just learned that was better to trust his judgment on it.

“Oh yeah, it truly takes a mind reader to see a guy ogling you across the room and telling you to show up at the after party even tho you have a guy on your arm," Jeonghan almost scoffs, then he leans down, his mouth close to your ear, "truly, his intention was indeed to talk about the impasto or the lighting or the shadow of his hard-on,”

“Jeonghan” you accuse again slapping his arm playfully, laughing at his antics “If I trusted you my ego would be in the clouds because every walking human being apparently wants to fuck me according to you.”

“Not everyone but a great part of it, sure." He deadpans.

“Sure, apparently you are the only exception who else?”

“I’m not,” Jeonghan deadpans again, just shrugging. Because it is not actually something he tried to hide over the years, it is nothing something that he is ashamed of either. And he is pretty sure it is something you already know since college so he doesn't have to lie about it. Jeonghan might be a coward, but he isn't really a liar.

“What?”

“I tried to get in your pants my whole high school years," He says, his eyes still on the painting, or everything that catches his attention, his eyes are everywhere really but on you. "I just gave up after the few first months of college”

“What the hell?” You try again. Everything feels kind of abnormal in your head. The way that Jeonghan says those words - like he is saying that you two should buy soap the next time you both go do groceries, it freaks you out. How can he be so normal about all of that?

And how could you be so clueless? Everything shifts in your brain - like the earth just changed its axes. He never told you anything closer to this, you are sure of it. You never suspected that Jeonghan liked you back then, or scratch that, that he tried to get in your pants. It seems something so unreal that you are having a hard time wrapping your mind around it - around the idea of a teenager and younger Jeonghan wanting something from you that you never really saw happening.

“What the hell what?” Jeonghan stopped dead on his track, finally looking at you, “You didn’t know that?”

“Of course not,” you say exasperated.

“Oh, I thought you were laying me down gently too,” he added, in the most neutral tone possible, making your head spin a little.

“No, I had no idea,” and it is true. You remember everyone from college who thought you and Jeonghan were a couple back then, everyone who found it weird when you two answered that you were just friends. You remember Seokmin, and you think about Seungcheol's words in Vegas and everything is hazed, a little out of focus. “Why did you give up tho?” You ask him.

“I just,” he says still looking forward and avoiding your eyes like the plague, “I mean, besides the fact that you got into he is not my type phase I would never kiss that man, the fact that I tried for four years and it didn’t happen led me to believe that never would, so...”

“I needed to make clear to every girl that was falling and tripping over you that I was not your girlfriend, they were pretty sure we were high school sweethearts back then”

“I think everyone we know somehow ends up thinking we are in a relationship,” he says, “I mean, clearly not goth impasto guy because that would be crazy, hitting on a woman with her husband on her side but”

“You need to pick up your husband's game,” you say kidding, while walking around the gallery with him, “I was indeed mistaken to be a single woman today.”

“I should have bought a bigger ring,” Jeonghan groaned, making you laugh, weirdly you still have the big ring on your finger.

“That’s not the answer,” you groaned because the man truly had this weird obsession with this ring and big rocks. You could tell him over and over again how you didn’t care about the ring or the rocks and he still found a way to make sure you were wearing the ring.

“And what is? If I try to be more territorial within the touch department we would be in jail for public indecency,” Jeonghan says low on your ear, his voice mischievously, while his hand presses on your hips, “Should we just go to jail?” Jeonghan asks, his hands trying to go lower heading towards your butt.

“Jeonghan, don’t test me,” you say seriously, your hand holding his and bringing up on your body. Why the fuck didn’t Jeonghan behave like a proper human being? Why your heart is racing against your ribcage? Why you are enjoying this whole thing?

The whole night you can feel Jeonghan’s hand on you in some way, or on your lower back, your neck, fingers on your shoulder, making his presence known somehow. And every time you think you are starting to understand what happened - what Jeonghan said, what that meant, he touches you again and everything gets a bit hazed, taking you to the start again.  Should you read into everything that he said to you? Would you be able to deal with it?

Those questions are still going around your brain in the car back home. Home, that alone was something that didn't make sense either. The air in the car is so thick that you think you can't breathe, the fact that Jeonghan's hand is splayed against your thigh doesn't help with the issue. The curiosity gets the best of you - you want to know all the unsaid things, you want to get under his skin and discover everything Jeonghan even wanted.

He doesn't move his hand, he doesn't stroke your skin, his hand is just there. Again, a reminder of some sort, and you almost laugh - silly of him to think that his presence could go unnoticed by you. Jeonghan has always been there on your mind, and lately even more. It makes your mouth go dry. The feeling is back on the pit of your stomach again. What if? You ask yourself, what would have happened if Jeonghan said those things back then? Would the present be different? Would that have washed away all the curiosity about Jeonghan?

Arriving home you go straight to the sofa and plop down in the middle seat, taking your time to take off your high heels, you don’t know why but you still buy pairs with ankle ties - the bane of your existence when it is three hours later and you have a thigh dress on, maybe that’s why you think you hate those types of event, even though you had a great time, saw a few friends and enjoyed the night with Jeonghan, you always ended up tired with a few blisters on your feet. You can hear Jeonghan’s footsteps around the house while you massage your feet and try to ease the tension.

You turn your body so you can stretch your legs on the sofa, the pain on your calves is killing you. You don’t even turn when you feel Jeonghan entering the room, his perfume and the sound of his slippers are enough to make his presence known. It was always like that? Did Jeonghan's presence always engulf you? Did it always make you unable to focus on anything else? Did it always make you question your own sanity? He sits down on the sofa, in the same direction as you, his legs around yours, his front pressed on your back and you hold yourself back because you almost whimper when you feel your body melting against his.

“You’re tense,” Jeonghan says his voice low, his hands pressing the knots on your shoulders.

“I am always tense and stressed out,” you say, and it is the truth. Jeonghan doesn’t need to know that for the last few weeks the fact that he is the number one reason. You almost rub yourself against him, feeling a little bit crazy and hot all over - oh no.

“Hm,” Jeonghan acknowledges. When his fingers close around your neck you almost jump on your seat, his thumbs traveling across the knots of your spine, and you are not strong enough to not whimper this time, “there’s a lot of things you could do to distress.”

“Like what? A guided meditation?” You joke, trying to get away with it, trying to downplay every reaction of your body.

“Fuck those apps,” he mutters under his breath, he is so close you can feel his breath against your nape.

“Yeah right there,” You say when his thumb presses down in a particular knock on your back.

“This one?” You just nod, don’t trust yourself enough to utter a word that doesn’t sound like a humiliated noise. Since when did you turn into a mess in Jeonghan’s hand? But you just accept your fate, feeling how soft your body feels against his. “Can I open this?” Jeonghan asks, his voice so low you barely hear, but he is so close to you that your ears catch his question.

And you still don’t trust yourself, so you nod again. Jeonghan drops the zipper of your dress and takes his time to gather your hair in his hands, and taking them out of his way, letting your locks rest on your shoulder. His fingertips trails the collar of your dress again, and you can feel the goosebumps across your skin and you know Jeonghan can see them as well.

You can feel the way that Jeonghan’s fingertips travel down your spine as he opens the zipper of your dress. And you close your arms around your chest, in order to maintain the dress in place because you can feel how loose the fabric feels against your body after the zip is down. But apparently, Jeonghan is not even close to satisfied because his fingers are tugging the straps of your dress down your arms.

Jeonghan’s fingertips are still on your skin, stroking your arms when you feel his lips against your shoulder. Before you can think about anything your own body reacts before you, giving space so Jeonghan can continue kissing the column of your neck. Everything feels a little surreal, a blur, you can't quite grasp-

Then, your cellphone starts to ring bringing you back to reality.

“Don’t pick up,” Jeonghan tells you, almost like a whisper against your ear, his hands still around your waist - but then your phone rings again and again and reality comes crashing again and again.

And you want to say that you are ok with almost being undressed on Jeonghan’s lap, that it is ok the way his thighs cage you, that it is ok how his hands feel hot against your body and how his lips feel against your neck. But your phone rings again and it must be important so you stretch yourself and try to find your phone inside your bag by feel. When you finally can reach the phone dies, and you can feel Jeonghan’s smile across your skin - like he just won. But before you can drop the phone you feel it ringing again, and when you pick up the big font appears on the screen ‘seungcheol is the best’. You can feel Jeonghan’s hand freeze against your body, the way he just goes rigid.

“Don’t pick up,” He says again but now something is different - his voice is not low.

“It must be something important,” you reasoned, because it is true. You have been trying to get a hold of Seungcheol since before leaving Vegas and yet the man didn't answer you once.

“Just-” Jeonghan tries, and you can feel his squeezing your shoulders again, almost in a silent plea.

“I haven’t talked to him since Vegas, it must be something important,” You say, your own hands going to his in an effort to show him that you understand what he is trying to say.

“Are you truly doing this right now?” Jeonghan asks and when you don't answer him he already knows.

You look at him but Jeonghan just gets up and off the sofa and leaves the room, in the end, you choose to just pick up your phone and answer it with a low “Hey cheol,” so low that Seungcheol asks if you were sleeping.

Seungcheol tells you he wants to meet, to talk about things. And you say yes because why not? You pick yourself up and close your dress. Before going to your room you stop at Jeonghan's door and before you lose all the courage that you have in your body you knock on the door, nothing, and you try again just to hear the sound of the shower across the room when you glue your ear against the door.

When you lie on your bed you don't really can close your eyes. You feel restless, your mind wavering, and you can't stop thinking about Jeonghan.

What would that mean?

If you took that leap would Jeonghan be there if everything fell apart? A shiver runs down your spine because it is the first that the answer would be a no. You ask yourself why now. What made Jeonghan change?

And you can't even look back anymore - you can't even think about your friendship with Jeonghan without it being tinted, his words echoing in your brain, "I just gave up". You play the whole conversation back in your head, almost like an old VHS tape - rewinding and pressing play, trying to see everything in another angle, rewinding, asking yourself what that meant, rewinding, thinking back, rewinding and pressing play - unfolding all the touches, and the times Jeonghan's hand lingered on your body.

You rewind until the sleep gets the best of you when it is already bright outside.

You wake up to the sound of your phone, Seungcheol calling you because he will run a little late, of course, you say while he just laughs because it is so clear that you were sleeping. When you run down the stairs, almost falling on it because your brain isn't functioning yet, you don't find Jeonghan anywhere. When you look at the fridge and there are no new notes, your heart breaks a little.

The coffee that Seungcheol chooses is pretty, and not very crowded, and even though Seungcheol is late is not a big deal, you use the time to go over a few manuscripts and spreadsheets with a cup of coffee on your side. Or at least you try to, but the truth is that you send Jeonghan a few messages and every time your phone pings you need to check if he is the one answering you - it isn't.

When Seungcheol arrives, you see him first, still from afar, his hair is shorter now. You almost laugh because that is definitely not a Seungcheol's choice, nor a haircut. His hair screamed his fiancée's name.

"Hey stranger," he says sitting across from you.

"Hey yourself," you greet him back, almost laughing at how awkward this whole thing is. Seungcheol and you walking around eggshells. Neither you nor Seungcheol wants to start talking about the whole elephant in the room - Yoon Jeonghan.

You ask him about the wedding preparation, it is going nice he says, he was late because he needed one last fit on his suit. His mother nagged over and over about how he shouldn't wear a navy blue suit, his future wife nagged about how it couldn't be black because the whole vibe of the afternoon wedding was different from a night wedding.

"I'm just happy that you guys worked everything out," Seungcheol says after a while, sipping on his coffee.

"Cheol," You try your heart already tugging on your inside.

"No really," he smiles at you, the way he always does - with a fondness you can't quite handle, like after all those years he still sees you like the kid you once were. Someone who didn't really have hold of her life and in a way, after all those years you feel like that again. "I did a lot of thinking," Seungcheol chuckles, "I think that I always have been envious of Jeonghan in a way," he breathes loudly, almost trying to gather up courage, "here I was, with my wedding date set up and still having doubts about how I feel and if I should go on with it." Seungcheol scratches her head almost like he is ashamed to tell you the truth, "And there is my friend, right? I think that the thing I always admired about Jeonghan was how consistent he was, you know me, in that way, we are alike right? We see shine things and we run towards them, a new project, a thing we like, don't even say anything about the golf gear I swear to god," he says abruptly making you laugh, and it was true in that sense you and Seungcheol were very much the same. "But Jeonghan is consistent, that man's mind is a fucking rock," Seungcheol says like a jab and you can understand why, "and yet he is more sure about you than I am about my fiancée really. And he has been sure for years, I still don't know what made him make a move-, he didn't talk to me prior to that, but I am truly happy that you guys figured it out, it took you long enough."

"I don't even know what to say," you breathe, looking at Seungcheol. You can't blurt out the words - physically unable to tell him. You think about what you should say, you should tell him -'we are not together', 'we didn't figure it out'. You want to tell the truth, you want to come clean, but you just can't. "But yeah, he has always been there for me" you laugh a little soulless. It is not a lie either, but it is not the whole truth, Yoon Jeonghan has always been there for you, but now all the other pieces of the puzzle are coming together. "I think the only thing that hurt him was you going on and on about his commitment issues or whatever.

"It's-" Seungcheol breathes, "it wasn't like that. I mean, sure, he can't commit to anyone who isn't you," he shrugs, "I think it was back when you were going out with that lit kid right? god" Seungcheol laughs, shaking his head like he just found a memory in his treasure box, "Jeonghan was so jealous back then," Seungcheol continues, reminiscing,  "he would get furious every time that guy would give you a letter, a poem, anything really. I don't know how you didn't catch up on how much he hated that guy's gut if he dissed the poor kid."

"I just thought-" you stop to think about it, "I don't even know what I was thinking back then, but I never once thought it was because of jealousy, he was dating like 3 girls at the same time back then," you tell, felling the bittersweet taste on your mouth.

"Well," Seungcheol takes another sip, "you know Yoon Jeonghan, when he doesn't get what he wants he tends to fuck everything up and push himself to do shit just out of spite. His high school crush and love of his life found her first boyfriend, how do you think he would handle that? What he could do about that? Try to write poems better than Mark? He tried to believe they were all shitty, trying to forget you was the last thing he could do for himself, even that didn't actually work."

And you feel like you are about to go into overdrive.

It is one of your flaws really, you were never one who would react quickly - your brain always trying to assess and digest everything before being able to take a leap. The problem was that you needed to unpack more than ten years, to go through every file of your life with Jeonghan and try to find a new meaning, trying to find a clue, in search of something you don't know yet, but that could make you understand, or realize.

You spend the whole day feeling a weird taste in your mouth.

The thing is, you can't quite pinpoint what are you feeling, you can't really name it. It somehow resembles feeling betrayed, you think, that you have a cheating boyfriend and everyone knows his secret but nobody has the courage to tell you, and when you actually find out you are the last one to know.

You take your time walking around town and even figure out the longest route to Jeonghan's house.

Even that sounded weird rolling off your tongue.

You try again - picking random memories to try to see if you can find a hiding meaning somewhere, a clue, evidence of Jeonghan's feelings. A crush you could understand, something small like an affection with an expiration date you could understand. You could understand the curiosity that grew in the past month.

But Seungcheol's words didn't point to that, Seungcheol's words were actually pointing in the opposite direction of that.

And if you were being honest with yourself, that made you afraid.

“I talked with Seungcheol,” you blurt out when Jeonghan finally arrives.

“Yeah, we are not going there,” Jeonghan says seriously, without looking at you - avoiding you at every cost. It is a tell, a clue that he doesn't want to talk about it. You don't want either, if you could you would never go there again, but you need to, because living things like they are right now, messy and all over the place aren't working.

“Jeonghan,” you groan, “we need to talk about everything that happened in Vegas, his wedding is in a few weeks."

“I think you were there when he said I wasn't invited so I am not really following right now," Jeonghan says his voice stuffy because his head is inside the fridge in search of something, maybe he is just trying to not look at you.

"He told me you are not answering his calls," You tell him, and before Jeonghan says anything he just scoffs and closes the fridge door without taking anything out. He doesn't actually move, but he doesn't look at you either, his head is hanging off his shoulders, and you know Jeonghan so well that you know that nothing will make him move. You know you are not going to win, but yet you press it on, because you are tired of things being left unsaid, of Jeonghan bottling everything out and things ending up being your fault.

"Why are you being so fucking stubborn about this?" You ask watching Jeonghan just shake his head, "he is your best friend."

“Yeah like Seungcheol’s is flawless,” he bites back.

“Jeonghan this is not the point right now-" You start before he cuts you off.

“It is never the point right?” He asks you, finally looking at you, still holding his weight on the counter, "Is never the point, is never the right time, is never them it is always me fucking it up because it is Jeonghan he is not serious, he can take it, you guys can go on and on and god forbid if someone doesn't wanna take more bullshit from you."

“Come one don’t get angry with me,” you plead.

“Of course, right, I can't even get angry," Jeonghan says before he heads to walk out of the kitchen.

"Jeonghan," You almost beg making him stop and look at you, "we really need to talk about everything."

"Talk about everything or for you to be Seungcheol's spokesperson?" He says, and when you don't answer he completes, "Then no, we are not talking”

“Of course, because that will solve everything," you say almost groaning, "he is your best friend for god's sake, he still thinks we are in a somewhat relationship, he wants to talk to you, he feels guilty for being an asshole. He is sorry." You try almost stomping your feet at every word.

"Well, good for him," Jeonghan says like words don't have enough weight to make him care.

"Come on Jeonghan I'm trying here," you whine.

"Trying to do what exactly?" He asks, "Did you ever think about what actually happened since Vegas?" He says finally looking at you, and you feel even worse. He almost laughs when you don't answer. "Okay, I did, I spent every single second thinking about it and I am really fucking tired of thinking about it. I tried to put it through a different lens, I tried to put myself in other people's shoes, I tried to be reasonable and understand everyone, look I really did, and I did a great job understanding that you forgot the whole damn thing, of course, you can forget me telling you that I am head over hills for you sure, you can forget that you were the one who kissed me back then sure, of course it happens, I mean," Jeonghan scoffs, "I understand for years what is a few more months right?"

"Jeonghan-"

"No, let me finish this because somehow it will be my fault again so let me make everything clear," he says - back again looking at every corner around the kitchen but not laying an eye on you; "Seungcheol knows, he always knew about everything, he knows how many girlfriends gave me fucking ultimatum and I always choose you. He knows how many women broke up with me because they knew I was in love with you, sure, everyone in my fucking life knew but you - I understand that too sure," he stops, breathing loudly and you feel the lump around your throat way to thigh, "and he fucking knows that if I could I would've got over this sooner, so yeah, maybe I was too fucking sensitive when my friend act like I was a fucking coward who has commitment issues and would never do anything about it sure, it's my fault great, I can be responsible for that. I can take that sure, I can take Seungcheol, what I can't take is you playing dumb after last night, that I can't take it, and to be fair I don't want to, I don't have to, and you don't have a lot of excuses this time, I guess you remember right? And I think that time I made myself pretty clear so this time you must know right?"

You have been building your life around Jeonghan's for years. In a way, Jeonghan's life and yours were beautifully intricate, to the point that you weren't quite sure where one ended and one began. You think about how would your life be without Jeonghan's presence, and how would your future look like. And that scared the shit out of you.

"And that took you how many years Jeonghan?"

"Don't do that," he says and his voice feels almost small.

"Sure, I am sorry if I'm being fucking selfish right now, but you had your own time to think about everything, right? You have had years to come to your own terms? I'm freaking out here, do you think that's easy for me? Do you think it is easy to think about the aftermath if this goes wrong Jeonghan? Sure I understand that maybe that is your tipping point great, I understand that, but you are my friend and I don't fucking know how we will go on if we fuck everything up," you laugh, "I think we already passed that apparently."

"We didn't fuck it up," Jeonghan says, "Why can't you trust me for once?"

"I do," You say, and it is the truth, you trust Jeonghan with your life, "I do, I am just scared. You took your time to figure everything out, but every time I look back now I think about everything you didn't tell me,"

"I told you everything," Jeonghan says and you can almost feel his desperation, "I was sincere about everything,"

"Now you are just telling lies," you say laughing dryly.

"Sure I didn't tell you everything, but the things I haven't told you are small in comparison."

"The fact that you like me isn't small Jeonghan," you say, and it finally downs on you, that this - his feelings are a huge thing that you can't quite hide.

"What I am trying to say is-" Jeonghan says, finally taking steps and getting closer to you, "I will not go anywhere," you hear him - even though it feels like he is whispering, "even if we fuck up, even if this doesn't work out, I will not go anywhere, if that's what you are afraid of then you have nothing to be afraid. I won't go anywhere because that would kill me more than would hurt you, and even though everyone around me thinks I am a masochist I would prefer not to die."

"I would rather not hurt you," you say and you feel like you could cry, "I am sorry if I ever did."

"You did," Jeonghan says, taking your hand, and holding it firmly like that act alone can show you how serious he is, "but nothing I couldn't take, even If you hurt me again, I can take it, I will take it." 

Even if both of you don't want to, things stay a little weird between the two of you for some time. Like both of you are back to being so conscious of each other presence that it is just weird to jump right back at it, or, actually, take a step in another direction. But things fall back into place - more because of Jeonghan’s attitude than yours. He is the one that calls you for dinner, and he is the one that hugs you when you enter the kitchen.

He is the one that is trying to make things not weird. And you love him for it, you just love him, heatedly.

And the thing is, you always loved Jeonghan, but somehow, this kind of love and appreciation feels new and it is so scary, it makes you realize how everything is so fragile. But, at the same time - it makes you curious, it makes you wonder, it makes you act first just to see Jeonghan’s reaction.

Like when Jeonghan’s is whining about something and how he wants to quit his work so bad and you just hug him - almost melting against his back, placing your chin against his should and you can see Jeonghan freeze for a few seconds before he starts to pay attention on the food again.

Or when you start to watch a movie together and Jeonghan just melts in your lap, falling asleep while your hand goes through his hair. The next day when you whine about it he sweats to God he didn't sleep, he was paying attention to the movie, if you want to he can say the whole movie plot and all.

When the first Ttoram prototype arrives you are so excited that when you both place the little bunny on the dinner table, when she flops down - face diving because her head is too big - you are so happy for him that you just hold his face and place a quick kiss on his lips. Jeonghan looking at you wide-eyed. You almost start to laugh before you mutter:

“I told you, her head is too big,” you say trying to place Ttoram upright again.

“It is her charm, her brain is so big that she is dumb,” He says his voice weirdly fond, hands on your body pulling you into him.

“Yoon Jeonghan,” You stare at him - that weird mischievous smile on his lips, “what is that supposed to mean?”

“You should be honored,” Jeonghan says, holding your face almost making you yelp because his hands are so freaking cold, “You are my muse after all.”

And you almost curse him. But the thing is Jeonghan is cute, so will let it pass.

The thing is most of the time you are giggling and kicking your feet at everything Jeonghan does - that crush is so weird because you used to be stronger than that, now you are just falling in all of his antics, and boy doesn't he love it.

He just says the weirdest things out of nowhere just so he can hear your laugh. He holds you every time he has a chance, just pulling you close to hug you. But his favorite part of this new thing is how movie night now is just the two of you starting a movie to just act like a horny teenager.

Jeonghan is always the one who initiates it in a way. Sometimes is just caressing your arm before you start kissing him and licking against his mouth. Sometimes he feels bold enough and places his hand under your hoodie. The details always change but he always ends up with a hard-on and feeling like his younger self.

And it is happening again, his cock is hard, and he can barely hear the movie that is playing on the tv because you are kissing him and he can feel himself melting against the bed, like his whole body is going limp.

It is stronger than him, really. He wants to stay calm and collected but before he knows it he is already a whimpering mess, fingers digging in on your waist, his hips moving on their own, searching for some kind of pressure.

It is such a weird feeling, feeling so boneless and yet, feeling like he is a string - being pulled thigh enough he is about to snap at any minute.

When you break the kiss Jeonghan almost whines but before he can say anything you are already kissing his jaw so he just breathes loudly - accepting everything you want to give him.

“Can I suck you off?” You ask low on Jeonghan’s ears and he almost drop dead right there, like a fucking high schooler, like a teenager who just cum on his pant and drop dead when see a woman naked. And that would be fucking humiliating. He waited for so long he can't just burst a fucking nut in his own pants.

Jeonghan wants to answer you, he wants to say yes and maybe even mutter a please and thank you but somehow his brain is not even working properly, he is beyond dumb. But his dick is hard against his pants and he cannot even think properly - his brain is working overcapacity right now to try to take everything in.

So he does the only thing he can do in the moment - he pulls you into a kiss, and it is messy but Jeonghan doesn’t really care, focusing on the way you taste against his tongue. Jeonghan feels your cold hand against his stomach and he almost jumps at the spot, but you just whimper against his mouth when he does the same thing.

Jeonghan thinks the two of you are beyond niceties - you just told him you want his dick in your mouth, so he lets his desires win, while one of his hands is holding your waist under your shirt, the other one he uses to grope your ass. He squeezes your ass and at the same time, he tries to get your body even closer. You end up with your leg over him, across his hips, Jeonghan with his last functioning neuron takes the chance to shove his hand under your shorts too.

“Han,” you say when you come up for air, hand still splayed across Jeonghan’s body. “Come on,” you try again whining.

“Hm?” Jeonghan questions, his eyes almost closed and his head bent.

“You don’t want to?” You ask, voice low, taking the time that he uses to think about an answer to trail your lips across his neck, sucking at his skin, “I really want to but if you don't that's okay?”

“Hm?” Jeonghan mumbles - for a second he has no idea what are you talking about, his mind focused on how you feel against his hands, the weight of your body against him, how every curve of your body is pressed against his, how you smell and you taste.

“Suck you off,” you say again against his neck, almost petulantly like Jeonghan isn't paying attention, and he really isn't, but you shouldn't blame a man.

“Fuck,” he says almost whimpering.

Jeonghan was never like this - in his life nor in bed. He was never a mess, not to this point. Jeonghan always pretended to be somewhat collected, holding the strings of his life tight enough he could make his own choices, but it was never like that when the topic was you. So when the feeling pools on his belly, a reaction to how your fingers feel against his throat, taking matters into your hands when you grab Jeonghan's chin and maneuver his face in an angle so you can have access to more of his skin.

Jeonghan thinks he can die like this - almost dry-humping your leg. But apparently, you have other plans, your hand tugging at his joggers. Jeonghan's only reaction is to lift his hips, trying to help. It doesn't help much, but it is enough for you to shove your hands under his underwear, making Jeonghan shiver. When your hand finally finds his dick he almost melts, the tip of your things trying to map out everything before you apply pressure on it. He moans softly before closing his eyes.

He wants to be patient and wants to take whatever you give him, but the truth is he can't quite hold back anymore. His hands left your body so he can get hold of your face, kissing you. "Want to see you," he tells you, using all his strength to take one of the straps of your pajamas down. Kissing your shoulders, trying to map your collarbones with his mouth.

When Jeonghan tries to move the strap down your arm you don't budge, shaking your head telling him no, "don't want to stop touching you," and Jeonghan almost short circuit when your hand wraps around him and give his dick a few tugs.

"I know baby," Jeonghan coos, almost delirious out of his mind, his hand holds your wrist and takes out of his cock and the way that you just whine makes him even more desperate. His whole body is limp, almost melting. Jeonghan thinks he might die if he doesn't get naked, but he is too entertained with the view of your boobs in his face.

He knows there is an easier way to do this but fuck it, he is not in his right mind. Instead of taking out your flimsy excuse of a pajama Jeonghan just shoves It down, tugging at the end of the fabric while he kisses your chest. The way that you hold his head is so delicate that makes Jeonghan feel weirdly treasured even if he is completely debauched lapping at your skin. And Jeonghan takes his time, appreciating every inch of your skin

He could spend hours like this, he thinks - almost melting against you, kissing your chest lazily. He drags his tongue across your skin until he can reach your nipple, his hands come up your body until he can grab your boob so he can angle just right before his mouth is back to your body. Jeonghan thinks he can die like that, it would be a good way to go - your fucking tits on his face, your body pressed on his, his hard-on against your thigh, everything feels dizzy. When you shove your chest on Jeonghan's face, holding his face against you, he just takes it because he is so down and so horny that taking it is the only thing he can do.

"Hannie," you call and Jeonghan really just has enough strength to look up at you, without his mouth leaving your chest, "Just let me-" you try to say without much control of your own situation.

It is not like you are in your right mind either. Jeonghan's hands feels warm on your skin, and he holds you so tight that you think about the aftermath of his grip - you should make a mental note to check for marks after this, and that alone makes you tremble. You can only think about how Jeonghan's body feels against yours, how his mouth is still on you, and you want to cry because it is just so good but not enough. You feel you might cry. Or worse, die.

You press Jeonghan down until his back is pressed down on the mattress. And God he is so pretty, it makes you almost feel delirious.

When you sit down on Jeonghan's hips he feels like he is almost dying. Everyone he ever wanted felting very pale in comparison when he lay his eyes on you - hair already a mess, lips red from kissing him, flimsy shirt pooling at your waist. Your hands sneak under his shirt, and he almost laughs, damn he must be looking so dumb right now - feeling and behaving like a fucking virgin while his crush is on his lap, taking her time with him. You lift Jeonghan's shirt, dragging your hands underneath it, almost whining and frustrated when the shirt doesn't stay around his neck. Cute - he thinks, when you pout Jeonghan realizes he said that out loud.

"Just take it off," you whine again, tugging at his shirt.

Jeonghan just nods, holding your hips for leverage until he is sitting upright, holding the back of his shirt and taking it off in record time, before Jeonghan lies down again he feels your hand on his chin, holding him so you can kiss him again. Damn, he is lucky. But before he can think another thought you are pushing him back on the bad again, his hand on your hips.

Your hands travel on his body, caressing him - making him feel so close to losing his mind it is almost ridiculous. When Jeonghan's feels your fingers graze his neck he feels almost delirious, when your hand palms his chest and your digits press against his nipples it Is his time to whine, he almost feels like it is just too much, maybe he is closer than a step away from coming in his pants.

One of your hands is splayed against Jeonghan's stomach when the other one tugs  the waistline of his pants, pulling the elastic band and letting it hit against Jeonghan's skin. You shuffle around his hips, sitting on his thighs now and Jeonghan is ready to complain when you tug on his pants again, this time actually getting the cloth to move and get it stopped by Jeonghan's hard-on.

"Baby," Jeonghan mumbles, "that's too much," he tries again, but apparently there is nothing he can say to make you stop - and in all honestly he doesn't want you to.

Jeonghan thinks he will die if he doesn’t get his dick free. Even though he doesn’t want to he takes the hand off your ass so he can take down his joggers, shoving his underwear down at the same time, his other hand still firm on your waist.

When your fingers close against Jeonghan’s shaft he almost sees stars. You give him a few experimental tugs. He feels so breathless, how is that even possible?

You almost scoff, looking at how even his dick is pretty - really, you should complain because it is so unfair. You press your finger on his slit, collecting the drop of precum, and the way that his dick twitch it makes your mouth water, but before you can even complete your thoughts Jeonghan’s hand is holding your face and bringing it down to another kiss.

If it was up to Jeonghan he would kiss you the whole night, but you had other ideas, using one hand to shove him until he is lying again when the other one is still on his dick. He is pretty sure he can feel your taste against your mouth but yet he feels parched. When you start to press kisses on his body, the only thing Jeonghan can do is take it.

Jeonghan thinks you want to wreck him. He feels you press your lips against his nipples, his hips buckling on its own, and you stroke his dick a little bit harder. Jeonghan can barely breathe, yet, without wasting a second you are doing it again - pressing your lips to his other nipple and licking it.

Before he can even wrap his mind around that you start to lick his belly and Jeonghan almost sees stars. He just feels everything, and apparently, your tongue dragging against his skin goes straight to his dick. Jeonghan doesn't know how, but he lifts himself up on his elbows, the view alone could make him cum - you still kissing him, lips on his hips, pressing Jeonghan's dick against his tummy, fingers rubbing his frenulum and he is just so sensitive that he groans before he can hold your hand making you stop.

"Too sensitive?" You ask and why the fuck do you sound so out of it when Jeonghan is being pulled and pushed around the edge?

"A little," Jeonghan answers breathlessly, his tongue dry against his mouth.

"Ok, noted," you say before doing something even worse - placing your lips on the same place before kissing the tip of his dick.

You wrap your lips around Jeonghan can't really control himself, he just pushes his hips slightly so you can take more of him, and god when you moan around him almost makes Jeonghan forget every trace of decency and good bed etiquette. But damn you just look so beautiful sucking his dick, one of your hands digging on his thigh and the other one still wrapped around his dick that it is physically impossible to not thrust his hips up.

"God," Jeonghan says and he sounds so defeated against his own ears, "fuck, you are so pretty," he tries again, looking at you and when he sees you looking up at him, eyes almost twinkling with the praise. And his mind almost snaps - oh, you felt that didn't you? The joy of discovering something every time Jeonghan's hips snapped. He gets it now. It is almost like a power trip. "So pretty, taking my cock," Jeonghan tries again and he almost can feel your moan against his dick before he can hear it.

Every word that Jeonghan mutters makes you take more of his dick into your mouth until he is hitting the back of your throat, god and how he can take that? Your lips around him, your tongue dancing around his dick, the hollowing of yours checks each time you suck him. He is delirious and out of his mind. He tries his best, he really does, but his hips have a mind of its own, and before he knows it he is thrusting up again making you gag around him.

Then your mouth leaves his dick and Jeonghan feels like he is about to collapse, everything just feels so much - the sound, the spit trail, the way your breath is irregular, fanning against his skin - and yet the intensity of feeling nothing makes him mind spin a little bit.

"Come here," Jeonghan mutters trying to catch his own breath. You crawl up his body and Jeonghan can only focus on how messy you look, lips glossy and pink, and he can see the faintest trail of spit on the corner of your lips, he presses his lips there before he drags his fingers on your lips, "I let you suck my cock, can I fuck you now?"

"Please?" You ask back and Jeonghan can feel his dick twitching.

"How do you want me?" Jeonghan says tugging at the bottom of your shorts and he almost laughs when you just shove everything down at once - and he could laugh really, at your desperation but first, he is way worse than you, second you are so pretty that he can't wrap his mind around the fact that everything he conjured up in his mind every time he thought about you when he was lazily stroking himself didn't do you justice.

"You can stay like that," you say, and before Jeonghan can mutter an answer you are already placing your knees on the sides of his hips, his hands automatically going to your waist, his mouth pressing against your collar bones.

One of your hands goes to Jeonghan's jaw, just holding slightly, while the other one wraps around Jeonghan's dick again - and he swears he would say something but his mind goes completely blank when you press your pussy on his dick. Your hips moving to make his cock disappear between your folds, making it drag against your clit, Jeonghan can feel how wet you are and god everything just feels so hot - he feels tight all over, like his muscles are contracting, even the ones he didn't know he had.

"Are you getting off like this?" Jeonghan questions and his only answer is a whine and your hips buckling against him, "Come on baby," Jeonghan tries again, hand now holding your hip, guiding your movements, "I can-" Jeonghan breathes, he doesn't want to say it but, "If you keep going like that, pussy so pretty against my cock, I will cum before I-"

"God," you groan against his shoulder, "can you really?"

"Yeah," Jeonghan almost laugh, his hand grabbing your ass. Of course, he can, he could've come already, but he is dragging this off, he is holding himself back. "Babe," Jeonghan calls you, mouth hot against your neck, "I could've come on your mouth, I'm so hard it is almost painful,"

"Can we-" You almost hiccup, "can we like that" you mumble again, "you can fuck me later," you say and Jeonghan almost sees white.

God, he could cum like that this wasn't even a question, the question was could you? The fact that you were over the edge like him was enough to drive him crazy.

Every time you drag your hips against him Jeonghan's let out a little moan, and he feels so wrecked that he just plants his lips on your neck, sucking at your skin. Jeonghan does not know if it is a reaction or is just because he is losing his mind but he can tell you are getting faster, the rhythm getting a little off, the way you breathe against him, everything just seems too much, and Jeonghan can't take it anymore.

The world stops spinning for a bit - everything just stays still.

Jeonghan is out of it until the sound of your breath brings him back. You are almost pouting. "Did you?" Jeonghan asks, himself breathless too.

"No," You whine and you feel so frustrated that Jeonghan pities you a little bit.

"It's okay," he says - because it is he will take care of it, it's not a problem.

But when Jeonghan looks down he almost cums again. It is so messy. Why there is so much cum? God, he blinks at the view - trying to take everything but mainly you, hovering on his lap.

"Han," You call and Jeonghan is brought back to reality.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry," he says, and it is not like he is in control anymore, his mind Is just gone, he just drops his hand - scooping his own cum and placing it own your pussy. You moan so loudly and Jeonghan can feel your desperation, pressing his digits more firmly against your clit, "Like that?" He questions and you can only nod your head, words falling. Jeonghan holds you close to him, your chest against his, your hand still going between your legs, his other hand holding your waits, "Fuck how can you be so hot," he starts going making you feel a light-headed, "I will eat you later okay?" Jeonghan says, "Don't worry, I will eat you out and I will let you fuck me, you just need to tell me what you need."

"Just," You hiccup, "Just like that."

Jeonghan listens to you, even though the position is not the best to his wrist and he could do so much better - but you just keep babbling on and on about how you are almost there, how he just needs to stay like that, how you are feeling so good that he listens to you, how could he not when you are almost coming undone against his fingers?

And then you bring Jeonghan's face up to a kiss, his mind was too focused on his fingers disappearing against your folds to catch on earlier, but you don't seem to mind when you lick against his mouth and finally cum. Jeonghan holds you against his body for a few seconds when he finally hears you groan.

"God I am so sticky," you complain and he finally laughs.

Jeonghan though, keeps his promise and he eats you out after that, and he fucks you too, and then, he just forgets he has his own room.

It is weird how much you two fit each other. And how seamlessly you two turn into boyfriend-girlfriend situations, or legally, husband-wife, but who cares about silly papers really?

Everything is normal really - Jeonghan keeps saying he need just a better Ttoram version before you two start promoting on social media. You two keep sharing dinners, and Jeonghan even makes a point about how the two of you need to go on a date. You bribe him, telling him he needs to call Cheol before the wedding - and he just shrugs and picks his phone up calling his best friend, you almost scream, it was that easy?

You two share everything, you don't know why but Jeonghan just chooses your bed to sleep in, you question him saying you want to sleep on his bed too - it just smells like you, is nice - he says before making a weird noise after face planting one of your pillows. 

It comes to the point that you get weirded out when you wake up and he is not on your bed. When you pick yourself up and finally drag your body out of the bed - something weird happens, an unknown voice resonates in your house - okay not yours, Jeonghan's but...

You find Jeonghan in the kitchen, back facing you, sipping a cup of tea with another woman. A very gentle elderly lady, her hair is almost all white, and everything about her screams grandma. She sees you before you can say anything,

"Hi dear," even her voice is gentle.

"Han?" You ask when Jeonghan stares at you, eyes fondly taking up your sleepy self.

"Hey baby, come here," He says opening his arms, "come here Iris was talking about how she was visiting her third grandson can you believe that?"

You could, sure, everything about her screamed grandma in uppercase letters, but what was happening?

"Yes," the old lady answers, "where was I?" she claps before she picks back up again, "See like I was telling you, Aroon's mom is my youngest daughter, and her pregnancy hadn't been the easiest so that's why I couldn't bring the table back," she says and you neck almost snaps, looking at Jeonghan's, he is so proud of himself that you almost scream. "So I'm sorry dear, your husband told me how much it meant to you but I was out of town so-"

God, he looks so proud and so full of himself, he couldn't be happier right now. God, you are so deeply in love with him. You could marry him all over again.

[BONUS SCENE ONE - THE WEDDING}

“Are we doing this for real?” You ask and the world is kinda spinning a little bit, by your side, Jeonghan holds your hand. You both stare at this little chapel, the Elton John one because you said that you would prefer to be married with don't go breaking my heart, Tiny Dancer or even Berry and the Jets as a soundtrack than any of the Elvis’s songs and of course Jeonghan listened, he listened to everything you said. What a fucker, how could you not be in love with this guy? What? Wait-

“Of course, we are doing this, we made a bet,” Jeonghan says still staring at the chapel.

“Only because we made a bet,” you say looking at him. When Jeonghan turns his head to look at you something inside you sings a bit - like a doll with something in the inside broke and jiggling inside.

“Of course darling, only because we made a bet,” Jeonghan says, holding your hand firmly, he smiles at you, and out of nowhere he is running inside the building and you follow him around because why not?

It seemed like a fucking great idea, and you both did lose the bet, even though right now you can't really think straight - how does a bet work? Can both people lose a bet at the same time? You are not totally sure but you guess Jeonghan is right, it can happen.

[BONUS SCENE TWO - BIOGRAPHY]

When Jeonghan finally opens the hotel door you almost fall in the room, but before you fall face flat on the floor Jeonghan's hands save you from breaking your nose.

“Wow, what a gentlemanly husband I have,” You say, tapping his chest.

“Sure, sure, perfect husband material right here,” Jeonghan says pointing at himself the door still open.

“You are,” you gushed, hands on his shoulders searching for some kind of balance, using these high heels shows was so wrong, but you knew at least you would be pretty in your wedding pics, and in the end, that’s all that matters - the pictures for your own autobiography that you will make for your grandchildren. You always told Jeonghan that you would make one for him too, with every single thing he gave you as a safe keep and the collection of pictures you have of him in different times of his life. You have pictures of Jeonghan with his long hair, with his short hair, the time he died it was almost white because he thought it would be so so cool and ended up hating how it fucked up his scalp. You had the material, you had the story, and you could do his biography, the funny thing now it is that his grandchildren could be yours too.

“What are you laughing at?” Jeonghan says, kneeling at your feet and taking your shoes off, wow, a life-saver.

“I just thought about grandchildren,” you squealed in a high-pitched voice that you didn’t know you had until Jeonghan’s hand found your hips.

“Grandchildren?”He asks you softly.

“The biographies,” you say and Jeonghan nods, “I was thinking about how I always pictured us together when we were gray and old in a nursing home together all that jazz, but know that I thought about it, your family will be my family so the grandchild will be the same kids, I won’t do your biography for your grandchildren I will do your biography for my grandchildren as well that changes a lot of things,”

“Like what?” He asks amused

“I don’t know if I want to tell them about the time you were sure to have gonorrhea or something like that”

“I do think we can let this story die with us,”

“wait, now that I am thinking about it like we only have one family," You say, a pouting on your lips, and Jeonghan almost melts, "that means only one visit in the nursing home because like when our family as separate entities we would have two families so two visit yours and mine now that I think about it I think we should divorce

“We are not divorcing," Jeonghan says.

“We can annul It,” you try again.

“We won't do it,” Jeonghan says, shaking his head like you are talking nonsense.

“But two visits are better than one,” You say showing him your fingers and trying to make him understand that two are indeed better than one, boys like girls even sang about this, was Jeonghan dumb?

“I won't have a family if it isn't your family,” Jeonghan says plopping down on the bed.

“Of course you can have a family,” you are sure of it Jeonghan is amazing there is nothing stopping him.

“But I don't want to,” Jeonghan whines looking at you and you get it, you finally get it.

“Damn boy you are crazy about me,” you say laughing, laying on his side.

“Now you are catching up,” Jeonghan says while his arms close around you.

“Still think two is a bigger number”

[BONUS SCENE - SHOULD WE?]

Jeonghan, your husband of three years, is eating on the kitchen counter and you can almost hear the gears in his brain turning and twisting. Sometimes, you think that maybe, Jeonghan is like a toy that he built the week prior, if you pick him up and shake him around you can hear loose parts of him rattling inside of himself.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask while opening the fridge.

“Should we go to Vegas again?” He asks taking a bit of his breakfast.

“Vegas?” you say - your head peaking and your body stretched so you can face him while the fridge door is open. 

“I was thinking we should renew our vows,” he says like he is thinking about buying lunch because he cannot bring himself to cook, “you know, I want you to actually remember our wedding.”

[htchnr]

♰ silver soul ༻ L. HOWLETT.*ೃ˚

✮ꜜ masterlist. ✮ꜜ buy me a ko-fi!

content warning hurt/comfort ⋆ vague mention of a crappy work place ⋆ a thousand pet names ⋆ unmentioned age gap ⋆ non sexual vaguely mentioned nudity ⋆ not proofread, i just wanted to get it written and out ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!

pairing old man!Logan.

summary all you need after an awful week is to lay in Logan's arms. tightly wrapped around you to let you heal a little before the next day starts again. + or, i desperately need Logan to hold me and tell me everything's gonna be okay. wordcount 0.9k.

authors note i've seen you guys' requests, don't worry! give me some time to get them out cause i'm kinda in sucky mental place (lol, hence all these various comfort fics lately) and my writing is getting slow :,) bare with me lovelies, i'll get them out i promise <3

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!

the cabin is quiet when you push through the front door, the sun having long since set. you drop your keys in the hand-carved wooden bowl, kicking your shoes off along with shrugging your coat off. you know Logan can hear it's you by your familiar movements you make each night when you come home from work late.

you let out a deep sigh, knowing Logan must already be in bed if he wasn't there to greet you. you sluggishly make your way towards the bedroom, a tired and pained smile on your lips. " hey, sweetheart. " his low, gruff voice calls out to you once you're through the doorway.

you merely nod in response, starting to shrug off all your clothes. the day was long, the week was long. all you crave is to lay in his arms.

Logan had heard the sluggish edge to your movements the moment you came through the front door, already knowing it had been a hard day. " c'mere, honey. " he waves you over, setting his book aside on the nightstand.

your whole figure is tense as you move. Logan pulls the duvet back enough for you to slide under and move up against him. he pulls the duvet up and around your bare figure, his strong arm wrapping around your waist as he moves your body to lay on top of him. " here we go, don't that feel better? "

you nod against his hairy and scarred chest, your face scrunching up with the safety that emanates from his firm and strong figure.

" hey, let it go, darlin'. you're away from it right now, let it all go, " he assures, his rough, calloused hand rubbing gentle patterns up and down your bare back and waist. " give it all t'me, let me carry this with you. "

and so you do, you let it all go. tears drip down your cheeks and onto his chest as you tell him about the rude coworker who won't stop, your car that broke down for the third time this week, things that keep breaking the moment you lay your hands on them. and Logan listens to it all, not once interrupting you.

his large hands strokes up and down your back lovingly, " i think it's time to look for another job, honey, " you know he's right, but finding decent jobs nowadays seems nearly impossible. " i know it'll be hard, but it'll be less hard than the time they're givin' you at this job. " he replies, as if he read your mind.

you nod, sniffling. he listens as you go on about how you can't seem to do anything creatively anymore, how you keep messing up meals you cook, how your clothes don't feel right anymore. and all he does is hold you tightly and listen.

" let's take some time off, yeah? i think gettin' away would do you a world of good. " you hum, the thought of staying at his cabin in the woods would do you a lot of good. " tell you what, sweet girl, " he presses a kiss to the top of your head. " i'll deal with your work, and you start packin' t'morrow. how's that sound? "

you smile sadly and nod, your wet cheek rubbing against his tear-wet chest. " that sounds good. " you croak, your voice a little rough.

he smiles, his beard gently scratching against your forehead. " then that's what we'll do. " he presses another kiss to your hair, before reaching over to tug on the string of the lamp and turning the lamp off. " don't you worry your pretty little head about a thing, alright? i'll take care of you, baby. i'll take care of you. "

[cvntluver444]

7 mins in heaven w ellie😇😇😇😇

thank you so much for your request and your support love!! <3

✞ 7 minutes ✞

✿ summary : the request!

✿ warnings : smut minors/men (boys) dni, puss rubbing, dirtyy talk, shy reader, sweet ellie, ellie teaching reader, reader is in closest!!!!!!, mentions of reader in str@ight relationship, almost getting caught!, if i missed any lmk pls!

✿ a/n : thank you for supporting my works as always! this is not my best work bc i used all my creative brain juice on my last fic so i am so sorry! unfortunately, i am headed back to school this weekend so my writing is going to slow down, but i'm not stopping don't worry babies. im hoping to put out 2-3 fics a week still!!!! keep sending in those requests! I have one more to work on, so to the anon who requested it its coming i promise my love!!!!

ALSO i did kind of make this a personal fic im so sorry LMAO basically i just explain how when i finally realized i was gay YAYAYA !!!!!!! but yeah warning again the reader in this is based on me so it is like finding out you're into girls later on kind of thing so if this is something you're not interested in feel free to skip! I hope you like it lucy!!! (idk if that's your real name im just going to call u that teehee) i love you all so much! muah

✿ as always, please remember to keep spreading information on and support Palestine!!

daily click

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

you anxiously played with your fingers as the last of the party guest gathered around the huge circle. your friends and you decided to spend your saturday night at one of your classmates party, resulting in you now dreading your turn in the 'truth or dare' game.

"you okay?" you turn your head to your left as your eyes land on your friend, who clearly could pick up on how nervous you looked.

"yeah i'm fine," you tell her. "just hope i don't have to do anything stupid or embarrassing. she laughs at your comment.

"don't worry, i doubt you'll even get picked. there's a lot of people here and were all drunk so, who cares!'. her shouts fills the room, drawing a couple eyes toward the two of you. you giggle and hide your face, trying to tell her to keep it down. in the midst of shushing her, your eyes graze the room, watching people roll their eyes at her behavior. but your eyes catch someone else's and you freeze.

ellie williams

she sends you a soft smile, a dark look in her eyes. you gulp and look away quickly. god, she was so hot you thought. you hope she couldn't how flustered she made you. you hope no one could. your whole life, you've always had no problems catching boys' attention. you could have a whoever, whenever, but with this luxury came its flaw. you never actually liked the boys you went out with, you just loved being loved, being in a relationship. you never understood why you felt that way, but just continued on normally, not giving yourself a chance to actually explore more about yourself. but when you first met ellie freshmen year, the feelings finally became visible, especially after finding out she was also into girls; however, you were still not sure if she felt the same. This caused you to once again burry your feelings and close yourself up. You were too scared, and way too sober to even try to talk to ellie.

suddenly, a loud voice can be heard yelling throughout the house. "truth or dare starting now in living room," on boy shouted. your palms became sweaty and you prayed that everyone would pick up on your uncomfortableness and just leave you alone. as always though, the world likes to work in funny ways, and you feel a large presence sit next to you and tap you on the shoulder.

"hey," the boy smiles, "cool if i sit here?" you just give me a simple nod of your head and continue your attention elsewhere, your thoughts interrupted once again. "you look good tonight, by the way". you turn back around, and give him a quiet thanks, and before he could respond, everyone around you begins to pick who will go first for the game.

after three or four people went, you began to grow annoyed. the man next to you could not take the hint, and you were the only person here not having a good time.

"alright williams," the room cheers silently, "truth or dare". your attention is now fully on ellie. she stares up at her friend who just picked on her, small smirk on her face as she answers with a confident dare. "hmmm," her friend hums out loud, looking around the room. you swear you see their eyes stop on yours for a second, before they get an idea. "i dare you to do 7 minutes in heaven," they pause and the room is filled with oooo's. your heart drops a bit. "a person of your choosing." now everyone was going crazy. everyone knew ellie was gay, and everyone knew she made every girl gay, so it was a pretty heavy dare.

ellie smiles up at her friend, sage you think their name is, before she slowly starts scanning the room. you quickly look down, hoping that your avoided eye contact would make you more invisible. your only focus now was watching your fidgeting fingers and giving back half asses answers to the man beside you who still will not shut up.

you hear ellie suck in her breathe before she slowly gets up from the ground. all you wanted to do in this moment was sink into the ground, not sure how you were going to handle seeing ellie pick another girl that isn't you and go fuck her in the closet. too deep in your thoughts, you don't hear the air leave your friends lungs as a certain someone stalks towards you. you only know ellie is right in front of you once you see the beat up sneakers sneak right under your vision.

your eyes widen and you cant breathe. there has to be someone behind you right? no, she could not pick you. in fear that you would be disappointed when looking up, you keep your head down, telling yourself that you're just-

your friend next to you quietly says your name, excitement laced in her voice. she was the only one you told, the only one you could trust with something so personal to you, so to say she was absolutely ecstatic to see ellie pick her best friend, well that was an understatement.

after your quick reality check, your line of vision trails from the top of her feet, all the way to her line of vision, where you see hear towering over you, smirk on her face. you felt like you were going to throw up.

"wanna come with me?" she asks you, that little smile never leaving her face. you look around the room, everyone in just as much shock as you. you look back at ellie, and without thinking twice, you nod your head yes.

she grabs her hand out for you to take, and you two make your way into the closet in between the living room and kitchen, but not before ellie yells something along the lines of keep yourselves busy, and don't be pervs. you feel like you're dreaming, you can't believe ellie williams picked you. but suddenly, you're brought back into reality when she closes the closet and turns on her phone flashlight.

"so," she begins, "how's your night been." you now grow extremely insecure at how little you've been talking to her, not knowing exactly what to do next considering you've never been with a girl.

"oh uh," you begin, "it's been okay. what about yours?" stupid stupid stupid.

"pretty good. saw that guy talking to you. you looked uncomfortable so thought i would save you." she gives a light giggle, but your heart drops and you look at her with sad eyes.

"oh uh yeah haha thanks," you attempt to say, sadness clearly laced in your voice. ellie picks up on it.

"are you okay? did he do anything?" she asks you, coming closer, concern reading all over her face. you blush at how much she cares about you.

"no, no, he didn't do anything, just was annoying," you let out a breathy laugh. "i guess i just thought that we were gonna, ya know, since you picked me, um, never mind this is stupid." your cheeks are now red with embarrassment, and ellies face softens at your rambling.

"aw, no sweetie. just because i picked you doesn't mean we have to do anything. i know you're not into girls." she gives you a friendly tap on the shoulder. ouch. your heart has now sank completely, and you slowly go to reach for the closet door handle. ellie looks confused, before she panics and grabs your hand.

"where are you going? it hasnt been 7 minutes yet sweetheart," she asks you.

"i was just gonna go back. kinda boring just doing nothing here." you tell her sadly.

"well, what do you want to do?" she still hasn't caught on? at this point, you feel like you will never get another chance again. with your ego still a little boosted that she chose you, you answer her.

"i wanna kiss you, ellie," you tell her. she freezes in the spot she's in before she slowly relaxes and relief washes over her face.

"i wanna kiss you too." she tells you. you look up at her, hope in your eyes, and she slowly grabs yours chin with her fingers and pulls you towards her. your lips meet and you both slowly start to make out. now you know why it was called 7 minutes in heaven. pleasure rushed through your body, and you instantly melted into the kiss. it was the first time you actually felt something when kissing someone, and in the bliss of this new feeling, you now put your arms around her shoulders.

the kiss deepens and turns more sinful as ellies hands now trail down to your ass and give it a light squeeze. you moan into her mouth and she groans back in response. her hands now start exploring your body, covering every inch of you until they make their way down towards your loose jeans. you quickly pull away, feeling like a complete virgin even though this kind of stuff is nothing new to you.

"woah, hey, you okay? we can stop if you want," ellie tells you, scared that she may have gone too far.

"no ellie its not you, its just," you try to find the right words. "i've never actually been with a girl before." you tell her, shame written all over your features. she lightly grabs your face once more as she gives you another passionate kiss.

"im happy to help you through it, and if you ever want me to stop, you just tell me." she explains, leaving light kisses all over you exposed next and chest. you moan out as you give her your permission to continue. her lips find her way back to yours, taking control of the kiss. in between each breath, she made sure to tell you how beautiful you were, and how much she had been dreaming of this. you return the compliments, gasping when ellie now picks you up and leans you down on the closet floor.

now on top, she puts all her weight on her elbow, as the other one trails down from your chest, then your stomach, to finally the place where you needed her the most. still kissing you, her fingers undo your buttons. once your jeans were shoved down, and your panties moved to the side, ellie breaks the kiss.

you whine from the loss of contact, and she shushes you. "is it ok if i touch you?" she asks you politely.

"yes, ellie. please touch me," you beg her. "want you so bad." her lips suddenly reconnect with yours, and her fingers start rubbing light circles on your clit. you moan as she teases you, never feeling this way with any guy you've ever been with.

"you make the prettiest noises," she tells you, nipping at your lips. "fuck, and you're so wet too." her talking alone brings you even closer to your high, another new feeling.

you feel her fingers now trail down and tease your entrance, making the most sinful sound. she bites her lips, then starts pumping two fingers inside of you.

your eyes now roll to the back of your head and ellie falls to your side, the new position allowing her to finger you even faster. your head leans into her shoulder, and tears brim in your eyes from how good shes making you feel.

"faster, please," you beg, now staring into her eyes. the innocent look on your face causes her pussy the clench.

"yeah baby? you want me to go faster?" she teases you. "ill do anything for you beautiful." that was enough to send you over the edge, and you start to shake and she speeds up her motions.

"els" is all you can get out, but she knows exactly what you're trying to say, telling you to let go and cum all over her fingers.

and you're about to, until you hear yelling outside the closest door, and people are banging on your door, telling you seven minutes has passed.

you and ellie groan, and you're about to scream out of frustration, before ellies low voice cuts you off.

"i want you to get dressed and meet me outside my car, we can finish this at me." she tells you, a loving look on her face. you giggle and give her a quick peck, before jumping up and putting on your clothes.

you two come out of the closet, rushing towards the front door, completely ignoring all your friends and strangers random questions flying your way.

"where are they going?"

"are they holding hands?"

"do you think they did anything?"

"they so fucked."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

✿ a/n: heh, they came out the closet. anyways, like i said, very personalized im sorry i hit my penjamin and im in my feels but i really hope you guys liked it! my requests are still open! love you all so much and don't forget to follow because i post frequently!! <3

[faithisyours]

Can’t Imagine Losing You

Azriel x Fem!reader

Summary: Azriel’s been acting moody lately, and you've had enough.

Warnings: ANGST! but also fluff. Smut, smut, SMUT! possessive Az, whimpering whiny Az, sort of a switch dynamic between the two, P in V, coming inside, oral both receiving, some ass stuff, i think that's it, not proof read

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Hey y’all! Sorry for being MIA. Here’s another fic as a peace offering. I wanted to try some angst so hopefully I did it right. This whole thing took so many turns. Hope it's comprehensible. If you have any requests for fics you'd like me to write, I'm all ears (i need ideas, please I’m begging). As always, minors go away. Majors, enjoy!

“I have some work I need to do at the House of Wind today. It shouldn't take long.”

You were sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast, enjoying the warm summer breeze coming in through the open window when Azriel informed you he had to leave. You were disappointed, but not at all surprised. It seemed like there was always something to do, some report needing finished or some training schedule needing tweaked. And it was always your mate who needed to do it, especially on his off days, it seemed.

“Can you stay for breakfast at least?” you asked, infusing your words with hope to mask the disappointment.

“I’m sorry, my love, I can’t. I’ll see you later.” He pressed a swift kiss to the top of your head before practically running out the door. There was no, “I’ll make it up to you later,” or, “How about breakfast tomorrow?” or even an, “I love you,” before he had disappeared.

Instances like this had been happening more frequently over the past couple years, but recently it had gotten out of hand for you. You had been mated to Azriel for over a century at this point, and had known each other far longer than that. You originally assumed that these instances were caused by Azriel being distracted by his work. Being the spymaster for the Night Court was a lot to manage. But more recently you had begun to wonder if the spark had dimmed for Azriel. If he had started to feel differently than he had when you two were first mated.

You decided that tonight you would bring up your concerns with him. You prayed to the Mother it was only because he was so busy and not because he had begun to feel differently about being mated to you. For now, though, you finished your breakfast, put away the extra food you had made for Azriel, and got ready for your day.

Since Azriel wasn’t going to be home until later, you figured you could get some errands done while he was away. Azriel had been running low on his sleep tonic for a while now, so you decided to stop by your favorite apothecary and pick him up another one. While you were out, you figured you could stop by the market and get some more wine to replenish the stash you and the other ladies of the Inner Circle had drained not too long ago. You also picked up some ingredients you would need for dinner tonight.

It was nearing noon when you decided to head back home, but as you were making your way back, you passed the shop you had gotten your favorite lingerie set from. It couldn’t hurt, you thought, to go in and look around. It had been a while since you got a new set, and you thought you should treat yourself. If you found something you liked, of course. And as soon as you walked in, a rich purple satin set caught your attention. It was perfect; simple yet sexy, and looked rather comfortable as well. It had criss-cross straps that circled around the back and waist, to connect to the bottoms, which were detailed with black lace on the hips. You didn’t have a purple set yet, and you thought maybe Azriel would like it too. Maybe if things went well tonight you would let him see it.

You made your way home, purchases in hand, including that satin set, and hoped by the time you got there that Azriel would be home. But he wasn’t. You entered an empty home, warm yet breezy from the window you had left open, and started unloading your purchases. You put the wine on the rack, the ingredients for dinner on the kitchen table, and Azriel’s sleep tonic on his bedside table. Lastly, you fished that purple satin set out of its bag and tried it on.

You didn’t bother trying it on in the store because you already knew your measurements and didn’t want to bother anyone anyway. Just like you suspected, it was incredibly comfortable, and it fit you like a glove. Exhaustion washed over you then, even though it was a little past noon. Going out to run errands always seemed to suck the energy right out of you.

You didn’t bother taking off the set, but instead rifled through Az’s shirt drawer to find your favorite one of his, a flowy black cotton button down, and threw it on. Even though Az wasn’t here right now, you still wanted to feel close to him, hence the shirt. You curled yourself up on his side of the bed, enveloped in the comfort of his scent, and closed your eyes. The last thought you had before falling asleep was hoping this whole thing was a misunderstanding.

–

You awoke to the sound of a door slamming. You sat up, wiped the sleep from your eyes, and made your way towards the kitchen, the most likely source of the noise. You saw Azriel, leaning over the kitchen sink looking out the window. You glanced at the clock above the hearth, noting you had been asleep for about 4 hours.

“Hey Az,” you said groggily, “Sorry I didn’t meet you at the door, I was taking a nap. Did you just get home?” you asked, walking closer to him. He gave you a grunt in response. You noticed his shadows swirling agitatedly around him, making you stop in your tracks. “Az, are you okay? Did something happen?” A million thoughts cycled through your head in seconds. Did something happen at work? Are Cassian and Rhys okay? Is he mad at you? Did you forget something he asked you to get at the market?

“I’m fine. I don’t want to talk about it.” His answers were clipped, monotone. “I'll be in our room.” he pushed off from the sink and brushed right past you, not even bothering to look you in the eye, give you a kiss, or look even the slightest bit apologetic for his attitude.

“I got you more sleeping tonic. It’s on your bedside table,” you informed him. You got a closing bedroom door in response.

You had a lot of patience. You prided yourself on the amount of patience you had. But it was warring paper thin for your mate. You decided to make dinner to take your mind off it, and to hopefully give him time to calm down. It’s not like he’d never been moody before, but this was a little much. He was starting to act like a teenage son, not your mate.

–

Thirty minutes later dinner was done and on the table. You went over to your bedroom door, still closed, and knocked, then poked your head in.

“Dinner is done. I made one of your favorites,” you informed Azriel, who was just walking out of the connected bathing room when you had poked your head in. He had changed into something more comfortable since the last time you saw him.

“Be right out,” he responded, glancing at you as he said it.

You walked back out to the kitchen table and began to load up both your plates with food. Azriel joined you just as you sat down. He immediately started eating, seemingly not concerned that the food was still hot enough to burn his mouth. And it looked like you would be carrying the conversation this evening.

“Was everything alright at the House of Wind today?” you pried, hoping the question came off as inconspicuous.

“Everything is fine. It’s handled now,” he offered, still shoveling food into his mouth.

“Alright. Good. I just wanted to -”

He cut you off. “Can we just eat in silence please? It's been a long day.” The words were stern, but his tone was soft, tired. You paused at his words, letting them sink in. Maybe this was just a bad day for him. Maybe he would be better tomorrow. Maybe this conversation should wait, if he’s pretty tired already. But how long had this gone on? How long have you wanted to say something about it?

“No,” you said simply. He paused, a fork-full stopped midway between his plate and mouth. Finally, he looked at you. “No, we’re not going to sit in silence. I have something I want to talk about. And I realize you may have had a shitty day, but I also had a day. I did things I want to talk with you about. I’ve wanted to have a conversation with you since this morning. So, no, actually. I’m not going to sit here in silence. Okay?” You stayed staring into his hazel eyes until you got a nod, but you wanted his answer in words. So you kept gazing into those hazel eyes until you got one.

“Okay. Alright,” he said, lowering his fork and pushing away from the table slightly, keeping his eyes on you. “What did you want to talk about, Love?”

His use of that endearment almost makes you reconsider this conversation. Almost. “I wanted to talk about your workload. And how it’s affecting me. And your treatment of me.” He only nodded, encouraging you to continue. “I feel like your workload doesn’t leave time for us anymore. It seems like the amount of stuff you have to do on a daily basis is way more than it used to be. You barely get any time off, and even on your days off you still have to do something. Like today. And I want to know if that’s how you feel, too.” You gave him time to consider.

He cleared his throat. “I like to stay busy. You know that. I haven’t noticed an increase in my duties, but even if there has been, I’m not sure if there is anything I could do about it. Everyone’s plate is already full. I can talk to Rhys about allocating jobs, but I can’t make any promises.”

You nodded, if only to give you something to do. That was not the answer you wanted to hear, but you could work with it. You wanted to broach your next point, but you were scared he wouldn’t take it well. You took a deep breath. “This… this leads me into my next point. I feel like…I feel as though you haven't been treating me how I want to be treated recently. Like sometimes I get my mate Az, and other days I get Azriel the shadowsinger. Or I get moody, likes-to-slam-doors Az who can’t bother to answer his mate in full sentences because he's too pissed off at something he doesn’t even want to tell me, his mate, who he should be able to tell everything to, even if it “doesn’t concern me.”” Your voice had started to rise, but you couldn’t help it. You were angry. “And this was why I wanted to talk about your workload. It feels like you’re getting upset more because you have more to do, which in turn makes you unintentionally take it out on me. you regard me as a permanent fixture in this house, but I am not. I will leave if I am not treated the way I deserve. And Gods, Azriel, I hope that this is the only reason, that it is only because of you working too much, because if it’s something else, if it has to do with your feelings towards me changing, I don’t…I don’t even…” you trailed off, holding back a sob that had started climbing your throat.

Azriel was now standing, making his way over to you. He knelt down right in front of you, taking your hand in his, his eyes, full of worry and confusion, searched yours for answers. “Okay, alright, you’re right. I have been acting like a jerk to you recently. And I’m so sorry for that. Truly. Work has been a lot to deal with recently, but that’s no excuse. I'll talk to Rhys about getting more time off. So I can spend it with you, alright? But how could you think my feelings have changed? How could you even think that?” His look was incredulous.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, or rather, tried to. “We’ve been mated for a century. A lot can happen in that amount of time. I thought maybe…maybe the spark was dimming for you. Maybe you changed your mind. About me. About us. And if you did, that would be alright. I would live with that, if it made you happy.” You work your confession out between sobs. “I just…I guess I just got scared. I don't want to lose you.”

His eyes were still on yours, but the emotion in them had shifted. Now they were full of anger. Not anger for you, but rather anger at himself. How could he treat you like this? In a way that made you think he did not love you anymore. He had failed, he realized. He was failing you, your relationship, your trust in him. He had to fix this, had to try harder. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said with conviction, no room left for argument. “I love you. So much. More now than I did a century ago. Every day I love you more. I didn’t even think that was possible, but with you it is. You’re not getting rid of me even if you wanted to, okay? I’m staying, and I’m going to try harder, get more days off, spend them all with you. You’re the love of my life, ya? Nothing will change that.” He pulled you into a hug, kissed away your tears, and kept kissing you until your cheeks were dry.

He kissed you one more time, hard, on the cheek, then went back to his side of the table and sat down. He thanked you for dinner, asked about your day, what all you did, and in turn told you what had happened at the House of Wind. Apparently one of the Illarian camps had started some fights with another camp over space and resources. Rhys had thought it was taken care of, but there was another fight today, which resulted in Azriel having to go over there, break it up, and be the peacekeeper longer than he wanted. Hence him coming home late and in a pissy mood.

“You’re wearing my shirt,” he stated, cutting off your story of you in the market today. It wasn’t a conscious thought to cut you off. He had only just now realized you were wearing his shirt, and basically nothing else. He had been so distracted by what had happened today and you bringing up your concerns that he hadn’t even noticed. Possession coiled in his stomach like a serpent strangling its prey. Seeing you in his clothes, even though it was a rare occurrence, always made him hard. He couldn’t help it. Your strong, soft body wrapped in his shirt, the sleeves rolled up to your elbows, exposing all that lickable skin. It made his knees buckle.

“Is that okay?” you asked tentatively. He was looking at you now like a starved man, which you knew he wasn't, given the finished plate of food before him. You rarely wore his clothes, mainly because you swam in them due to how big they were on you. You guessed he was just surprised to see you in something of his, but that didn’t explain the heat in his gaze. “I put it on after I got home from running errands. I wanted to take a nap and I figured you weren’t using it so…” you explained, trailing off.

“You’ve been wearing my shirt all day. Only my shirt.” It wasn’t a question. More like a repetition of the fact in order to understand. But it wasn’t just his shirt you were wearing. As he said it he noticed the purple strap poking out by your shoulder. A purple strap. You didn’t own any purple undergarments. “What is that?” he asked, his gaze burning a hole in your shoulder.

Before you could even answer him he said, “Purple. You don’t own anything purple.” His gaze was lighting you on fire, his eyes full of slow understanding, pupils blown wide with lust.

You got up from your chair, pushing your empty dinner plate slightly forward, and walked around the kitchen table to his side to stand right in front of him. “Well, while I was out,” you started, your voice low and seductive, “I passed by that shop, you know, the one I got that royal blue set from.” Azriel knew exactly what you were talking about. Remembered your squirming form underneath him while you were in that set. He was starting to feel lightheaded from how much of his blood had gone to his crotch. “And I figured it wouldn’t hurt to go in and see if they had anything as good as that royal blue set.” You were teasing him now, you knew it. But it was so fun, you couldn’t help yourself.

“Please, my love. Please let me see it. Let me see you,” he begged, winned. It was music to your ears. He was so hard it looked like it hurt. He had started slipping off his chair onto his knees in front of you, his scarred hands coming up to grip your hips. He was actually begging.

“You want to see it?” you taunted. He nodded, swallowing audibly. “Alright, but no touching. Not yet.” You pushed his hands off your hips, which was more difficult than you thought it would be, and began unbuttoning the shirt. Each button you worked to undo made Azriel’s breathing heavier, until he was practically panting. His hands were clenched so tightly at his sides you were sure his fingernails would leave marks on his palms.

You felt like a goddess; the man you adored more than anything knelt at your feet, completely enraptured by you, in awe of all you are. You reached the last button, undoing it achingly slowly, just to see your mate break out in a sweat. His hands were clenching his thighs hard enough to bruise, his chest heaved like a dying man, and the only thing shining in his eyes was need. Need for you, need to touch you, need to be buried in you until neither of you could tell where one ended and the next began. Azriel was a gentleman, but right now, here in front of you, he was the embodiment of pure animalistic lust. One word from you and he would snap. Just how you liked him.

You let the shirt part, giving him a nice view of the valley between your breasts, as well as the crossing straps and lower, to where those straps connected. You dragged one side of the shirt down off your shoulder, then repeated the movement on the other side. Finally, you let the shirt drop off of you, leaving you only in that purple set. You stepped closer to him, and caressed his face with your hand.

“Please.” It was barely a whisper, but you heard it, saw his lips part to form the word. His eyes were pleading with yours. He needed you. Now.

“Okay,” was all you said before he was on you, standing, gripping your hips, kissing you, running his hands over all that satin. He was everywhere all at once, biting your lips, coaxing moans from your throat, groaning over the feel of you, and you reveled in it all. His hands came around the back of your thighs, and suddenly you were being picked up and carried down the hall, towards your shared bedroom.

You were placed gently onto the bed, which was still rumpled from your nap earlier. Azriel leaned over you, taking you all in. “I love the purple, but I need you naked,” he said, peppering your jaw with kisses. You reached down to your hips and unhooked the straps from the panties. Azriel quickly figured out how to get your top off, and in a matter of seconds he was dragging the purple satin down your breasts just so his hands and lips could cover them again.

He took one of your nipples into his mouth, rolled the other between his fingers, and sucked and licked and pinched and bit till your chest was littered with marks from him. All the while, moans and whimpers poured out of you. Azriel reveled in the divine sounds you made, the sounds he made you make.

He made his way down your body, drawing closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“Please, baby. Please let me taste you,” he whispered, pleaded, begged. You gave him confirmation, that one word he needed to hear, then he was dragging those purple satin panties down your legs and throwing them across the room. He parted your legs, exposing your glistening core to him. The look in his eyes was that of absolute hunger. He didn’t bother with teasing you. He put his tongue right on your cunt, giving you no time to adjust or think before he licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit, spreading your arousal across his tongue.

You propped yourself up on your elbows so you could watch him; watch as he devoured you, drank from you, absolutely consumed you. He licked and sucked at your clit, brought it between his teeth, and eased the bite with more licks. Your head fell back as you moaned his name, lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Sooner than you even thought possible, you were on the edge of release, that coil in your belly drawing tighter and tighter. Without warning, Azriel slid a finger into you, curling it in a way that had you falling apart. He added a second, and it was your undoing.

You came with Azriel’s name on your lips. He worked you through your pleasure, continued to lick and suck till you were shaking from overstimulation. You pushed his head away, but he wouldn’t budge. He kept on licking you, drinking every drop of your release straight from the source. You were boneless, soar from overstimulation, but you could feel another orgasm rising within you.

Azriel moaned from the taste of you, the vibration making your hips buck. He continued to work his fingers into you, curling perfectly to reach that spot that made you scream. Profanities and pleads and promises poured from your mouth, but Azriel didn’t stop until you were coming again, on his fingers, on his face, on his tongue. Finally, after drinking every last drop of your essence, he worked his way back up to your mouth.

He kissed you until you came back to reality, until your limbs regained function. You kissed him back, moaning from the taste of yourself on his tongue. And then you were pushing him onto his back, straddling his hips to keep him there. He struggled a bit, pointing to his pinned wings, but you only smiled at him. “Is the Illarian baby pinned?” you taunted him. He stopped struggling, but instead glared at you. So you dragged a finger down one of the veins in his wings, and a moan slipped past his lips.

“That's what I thought,” you muttered. He was still fully clothed, and the contrast of your nakedness only spurred you on further. You kissed him, long and deep and unhurried, while you unbuttoned the length of his shirt. He broke the kiss to shed his shirt, so you turned your attention to unlacing his pants. While you worked, he kissed and nipped your neck, working marks into your soft flesh. You worked his pants down his legs, aided with Azriel’s help, and eventually he was naked underneath you.

You pressed him down to lay flat on the bed, then started your journey down towards his hard length. As you worked your way down, you liked and sucked and bit until his skin was littered with marks, just like yours was. You scraped your nails down his arms, down his sides, till he was shivering from your touch.

Kneeling now between his legs, guided a hand towards his length while you kissed his hips and rolled the skin between your teeth. His hips bucked at the fist fell of your hands on him, which made you smile. “So responsive,” you purred, then licked him from base to tip. He let out a moan that had your thighs rubbing together. With your tongue, you licked up the bead of precum that had frond, then promptly took as much of him into your mouth as you could.

Azriel speared his fingers through your hair, not to control your head but to steady himself. Your mouth was a dream to him; warm and wet and perfect. Second best only to your cunt. You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper and deeper into your mouth until he was hitting the back of your throat. Az was panting at this point, his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Your mouth felt so good, but he needed to be inside you.

“I’m gonna…please…I need to be inside you,” he panted out. You pulled your mouth off him with a pop, then gave him one last lick before you climbed your way back up to him. You kissed him, mainly just so he could taste himself on you. Then you positioned your hips just above his, readying yourself to sink onto his length.

Using his hand, he parted you, spreading your slick on you and on his hand. He eased you onto his cock slowly, letting you adjust to him. Every time you took him, it was an adjustment. You hoped that would never change. You both made an obscene noise when he was finally, completely in you.

“You want to be filled, baby?” he asked as he ran the fingers he had parted you with down between your ass cheeks. Yes, you wanted to be full of him, wanted to be overwhelmed by him, wanted to feel him everywhere. You nodded. “Words, love,” he chided softly.

“Yes, please Az,” you wined. That was all you had to say before he worked his fingers into you, using your slick on his fingers as lube. He gripped your hips with the rest of that hand and the other, a bruising grip that was sure to leave bruises.

Azriel was sitting up slightly now, and even though you were on top of him, he set the pace. Slow rolls of your hips guided by his hands started you off. All you could think about was how full of him you were, how overwhelming the feeling of him everywhere was. Your pace quickens, spurred on by your whimpers and his moans. Your eyes were locked with eachothers, and within Azriel’s you saw his bottomless pool of love for you. His pupils were blown wide, and so were yours.

You kissed him, hard, and he returned it even harder. You’re moaning into eachothers mouths, the only goal being to guide each other to your peaks. You could feel that ache building, that need for release drawing closer and closer. Azriel could feel it too, reveling in the way your walls gripped him. He shifted his free hand around to play with your clit, and then you were coming, harder than you had in a while, cresting on a silent scream.

Azriel was right behind you, fucking sloppily into you until you were gripping him so tightly he could barely move. He came, chanting your name like a prayer, until his voice went hoarse.

You both laid there, panting and boneless, for minutes or hours or days, you couldn't tell. Eventually he guided you off of him, pulling out of you with a hiss, to lay you next to him. He gave you a kiss on the cheek before getting up to go to the bathing room. You heard the sound of water rushing into the tub, and in the next minute Azriel came back in, picked you up bridal style, and whisked you into the bathing room.

He set you down gently into the warm water then joined you, settling in right behind you. He pulled you back so your back was against his chest, then proceeded to wash you with a soapy cloth. When he was done you returned the favor, batting his hand away when he tried to protest. You finished up in the bath, dried each other off, then slipped into some sleeping clothes and then bed.

“We’re okay, right?” he asked, pulling you closer to him. Your heart melted, warmed by the idea that he wanted to make sure.

Yes, Az. We’re all good,” you replied, giving him a kiss on the nose.

“Okay. good,” was all he said before he tucked you tighter into him and you both fell asleep.

[lyak12]

Just friends

Lucy Bronze x Reader

Summary: Lucy has been your girlfriend for three years already, but lately, she's spending more time with Ona than with you. Is she falling out of love with you?

Word count: almost 4.2k

A/N: I'm back with another Lucy fic:) Thanks to @helen-with-an-a for the inspiration:) I still have a few requests that I want to finish soon, but I'm currently swamped with uni stuff... so be patient with me. Also, there is a happy end cause my heart can't take pure Angst hahaha. I hope you enjoyy

Warnings: Anxiety, struggling with self-worth, concussion, vomiting, angsty in general, if I missed something lmk:)

Living in sunny Barcelona, playing for one of the best clubs in the world and all of that with the love of your life. A pretty perfect life one would say. Well, currently, you are feeling none of that.

You are insecure. You always have been, but normally, Lucy is quick to pull you out of that mindset. You’ve struggled with self-worth your whole life. Always thinking everyone is better than you. It has gotten better since you started dating Lucy over three years ago, but one of your biggest insecurities is still that she’ll get sick of you and leave you for someone better.

You know Ona is just a friend. She’s Spanish and they’re really close, so of course there will be lots of physical contact. You don’t mind that. You’re not jealous. You’re just scared Lucy will fall out of love with you and in love with Ona.

All the edits on Tiktok and insta were not helping. It got so bad that Lucy tried to block the hashtags on your accounts. It worked for a while but not long.

As Lucy spends the third afternoon in a row with Ona, you start to get even more insecure and a bit pissed to be honest. “Again? I thought we wanted to go to the beach today”, You ask a bit annoyed. “Am I not allowed to spend time with my friends anymore?”, Lucy asks defensive, not liking your tone. You just sigh and say, “Never mind, have fun”, you say and go into the bedroom.

Lucy doesn’t bother to come after you. You have been having the same discussion for days already. Lucy completely oblivious to the fact that your anxiety is bad at the moment, instead thinking you’re jealous. You change into some shorts and a crop top before going back into the living room, ready to take Narla to the beach instead. However, Narla is gone, too. Lucy must’ve taken her with her to Ona.

Great, you don’t even have your cuddle buddy now. Sighing again, you dry the tears that have escaped your eyes. You grab a hat and sunglasses and go to the beach on your own. Needing to spend your time somehow and the beach and ocean help clear your head.

You get home late, just needing the time to think. “Where have you been?”, is the first thing you hear when you get in before you come face to face with an angry Lucy and an excited Narla. “The beach”, you just say as you squat down to greet the dog. “Until now? You couldn’t look at your phone? I was worried out of my mind!”, Lucy asks loudly.

“I haven’t looked at my phone since I left the house”, you just say without looking at the brunette. “Y/N I’m talking to you! I was worried”, She says angrily. You flinch slightly at her tone. The tears you worked so hard to fight back threatening to escape. You look up and say “I’m sorry. I needed to think. I didn’t realize how late it was getting “, you say quietly, trying to stay busy with scratching Narla’s little belly.

“Next time, look at your phone”, Lucy just says and turns around before getting back to the couch. You cuddle Narla a bit longer, the Westie noticing the inner turmoil in you.

Eventually, you stand up and head into the living room as well. “How was your time with Ona?”, you ask quietly. “You gonna get jealous again if I say good?”, Lucy grumbles. “Lucy, I’m not jealous!”, you say defensively.

“Oh really? Then why are we having this same fight over and over again?”, she asks, looking at you. “Because you’re spending every free minute with her. It’s like you’re attached at the hip. I’m sorry I want to spend time with you too”, you argue.

“Yeah sure, that’s the reason. I’m sorry I’m spending time with my friends. Damnit, Y/N! It’s obvious you’re jealous, at least own up to it!”, Lucy yells, and that cuts deep. That sentence just lets something snap in you. “You want me to own up to it? Fine! I’m NOT fucking jealous Lucy! I’m scared. I’m scared you’re falling in love with Ona! I’m scared you’ll drop me as soon as she says yes”, you yell with tears streaming down your cheeks, letting yourself be vulnerable in front of Lucy.

“Oh don’t be ridiculous! Ona and I are friends, and that’s it! You should hear yourself. It’s absurd. Stop making a big deal out of nothing”, Lucy dismisses your fear. She has never done that before. She knows how your mind works and what she just said will make you spiral. Apparently, though, she doesn’t care.

You just look at her and dry your tears roughly. Giving her a nod before you head away from her. “Where are you going?”, Lucy asks, confused. She can see you’re still angry. “Why do you care? I thought I’m just being dramatic”, you snarl as she notices that her choice of words maybe were not the smartest.

“Y/N”, Lucy tries half-heartedly. “No. Not once have you treated me like this. You act like I’m not even here! You don’t pay attention unless I’m saying something about Ona. You know how much that hurts?”, you yell tearfully. “Now you’re exaggerating…”, Lucy says with an eye roll. You just look at her in disbelief and give her a nod. You swallow hard and say “I’m going to bed.”

With that, you leave her alone in the living room and head to the bedroom. Normally, you never go to bed angry. That is one rule that’s important to both of you. Well, tonight, the rule will be broken. By the time she comes to bed, you act like you’re asleep already. She still kisses your head, but you just pull away from her slightly.

You hear her sigh softly, but she doesn’t say anything. Eventually, you fall into a restless sleep.

As the alarm goes off the next morning, Lucy turns it off, and you just sigh. “Good morning”, Lucy says gently. “Morning”, you just grumble before you sit up with your back to her. “Seriously? You’re still pissed? Come on, it’s getting ridiculous”, Lucy says with an eye roll. You turn to her and say “Even if I wouldn’t be pissed anymore, I would be again after this comment. But yeah, of course I’m the ridiculous one. Because God forbid your stubborn brain could acknowledge that maybe you’re not as innocent as you tell yourself you are.”

You just get up and get into the bathroom. Lucy doesn’t say anything and just sighs. She really does not understand what your problem is. You get ready separately, but you’re not hungry, so you just grab a protein bar and gel to eat before practice.

The drive to the training grounds is quiet. You don’t say a word. Once in the locker room, you quickly change, but your teammates notice the tension between the two of you.

Mapi comes in just as you’re almost done changing. “Oh trouble in paradise?”, she asks with a slight tease. As an answer, you just grab your boots and drinks before walking out of the locker room.

Mapi just looks concerned at Lucy, the teasing smile wiped from her face. You normally enjoy Mapi’s teasing or at least chuckle slightly. “She’s been like that since we fought last night”, Lucy says with a soft sigh. “Last night?”, Alexia asks. Most of your team knew your rule to never go to bed angry. So as Lucy nods, most of them look concerned at each other. This has to be a bad fight.

Everyone can tell you’re not in the mood during practice. You play a lot more aggressively than usual. But not the type of aggressive that would hurt another.

You’re pushing yourself hard today, just needing to get out the frustration somehow. As you do a quick round of scrimmage halfway through practice, you run into the box to be on the end of a nice cross from Frido. However you’re a bit late, so you jump in at full speed, trying to find the ball and head it in. One of those flying headers Lucy is known for. Ona, however, is there to defend you, and since she’s running backwards, she doesn’t see you throwing yourself in for the ball.

You crash together, and the collision makes you hit the ball with your temple, unable to get it into the goal. You both land on the ground roughly, you a few feet away from Ona because of the speed you had come with.

You both groan for a moment, stars appearing in front of your eyes momentarily, your head throbbing. You close your eyes for a second, but as you hear Lucy’s voice, you open your eyes. However, her question, if you’re okay, is not directed at you. She is squatting next to Ona. That was it. Yes, Ona was lying closer to Lucy, but still.

“You okay?”, Frido asks you softly, and you just mumble “I’m fine.” You get up as Lucy walks up to you, resting a hand on your shoulder, but you immediately shrug it off and say “Don’t touch me. Don’t act like you care now.” The team has never seen you so angry. You just walk away from the brunette and make your way back to your position.

You high five Ona, not angry at her for the tackle. You squeeze the bridge of your nose slightly as you walk back. God, your head is throbbing. Your world is spinning, and you’re not feeling good at all. You try to shake it off, but Alexia can tell, so she rests a hand on your shoulder and asks “You okay, y/n/n?”

You don’t answer her trying to gather yourself. However, you only drop to all fours a few steps later as the dizziness becomes too overwhelming. “Y/N!”, Alexia yells and quickly waves the physios over.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?”, the Physio asks, and you can only mumble “Dizzy, head throbbing.” Your ears were ringing slightly as you struggle to keep your composure. They look into your eyes and can see that they are unfocused. “Where did you hit the ball?”, he asks softly, having an idea what might be going on.

Your hand moves to your temple and the spot right next to your ear as you almost lose balance and face plant the grass. The physios steady you, and he says, “Yeah, that might be a concussion, let’s get you off the field and checked out.”

“Let me help”, Lucy says, wanting to help you up. “No, please just leave me alone”, you shrug off her hands with tears in your eyes. Alexia steps in and pulls you to your feet before guiding you to the physio room.

“What happened between you? Talk to me”, Alexia asks on the way, knowing the tears are from the emotional pain, not the physical. “We fought badly. She’s been spending a lot of time with Ona lately and ditches our plans for her. You know I’m not jealous. I know they’re just friends, but I’m scared Lucy is starting to fall in love with her and just waits to drop me. However, she completely dismisses my concern, telling me I’m ridiculous and dramatic. I don’t want her here. It’s like I’m not even there anymore. It's always just Ona”, you tell her tearfully, she wraps you in her arms for a second while you sob.

After a minute, you get it together, and Alexia presses a kiss to your head. “I know me saying this won’t help, but Lucy only has eyes for you, but I understand. I tell her not to come in here, but you gotta promise me you’ll talk to each other, okay?”, She says seriously. You just nod before you lie back on the physio bed.

Alexia leaves, and the physio checks you for a concussion. “So you said you’re head hurts and you’re dizzy, any other symptoms?”, he asks softly, shining a light into your eyes. “Nausea, sensitivity to light. I feel a bit out of it”, you answer, and he just nods. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure this is a mild concussion. The ball really hit you on an unfortunate spot. You should feel better after a few days, but for now let’s get you home and get some rest. No straining activities, keep yourself hydrated, and get some sleep, alright?”, he asks, and you nod.

He helps you get changed before driving you home. The motion of the car makes the nausea so much worse that you throw up as soon as you're home. You try to rest and sleep, but your head won’t let you. The thoughts just crashing on each other making you restless, so you pull on your sunglasses and a hat, grab your headphones to dampen the sounds and make your way to one of your favorite spots at the beach. It’s not a long walk, so you’re fine. The area is usually not filled with many people, so you just lean against the railing and look out on the sea as you sink into your thoughts.

Meanwhile, Alexia walks back out to see everyone have a small water break. Lucy is standing with Keira and Ona, nibbling on the bottle nervously. “How is she?”, she asks Alexia, concerned. “She’s hurt, not just physically. Lucy, what the hell is going on with you? You know how Y/N is, you can’t tell her she’s dramatic and ridiculous, thinking she won’t spiral”, Alexia says a bit angry. Everyone on the team knows that you need reassurance, especially when those thoughts in your head get too loud. And they all could see that was the case lately. “What?”, Keira and Ona ask at the same time as they look at Lucy disappointed. “She was going on and on about how I keep spending time with you and never with her. I just figured she was jealous, and it isn’t a big deal. And as she told me she’s scared I will fall in love with you just something in me snapped, I couldn’t stop it”, Lucy tries to argue quietly as she looks at Ona, but she knows she’s in the wrong here.

Alexia just smacks her hard in the back of the head and grumbles “Estúpida!” “Lucy, her logical brain knows that there is just friendship between us. But you know how insecure she can get, and it’s been getting worse again lately. You should’ve been more attentive”, Ona says, disappointed. “Yeah you better fix this before it's too late”, Keira says seriously, and Lucy just sighs, realizing that she really messed up. “Right now she doesn’t want to see you, I think she has a mild concussion so give her some space, but you guys gotta talk tonight”, Alexia says and gives the brunette a little shove back onto the field.

At the end of practice, Lucy immediately runs to the physio room, but you’re gone. „Where is she?“, Lucy asks the physio as he comes in. „I drove her home. She needs rest“, he says, and she just looks worried at him. „Lucy, relax. It’s just a mild concussion. The ball just hit her at the wrong spot. She’ll be okay in a few days“, he says reassuringly, but it does little to calm her worries. She pushes her hair out of her face and takes a deep breath. „I know, I just really messed up. Thank you for driving her home. I gotta go“, Lucy says and jogs into the locker room. Changing with the speed of light before grabbing her bag and running out again. She doesn’t have time for a shower. She needs to get to you.

Speeding home, she runs in and looks around for you, but the apartment is empty. Grabbing her phone, she calls Alexia. „She’s not here“, Lucy says as soon as Alexia picks up. „Lucy, calm down. What?“, Alexia says, still in the locker room with most of the girls. Ona and Keira look up as Lucy‘s name falls, coming a bit closer so they can hear too. „She’s not here. Y/N is not here. She was told to rest, where is she? What if something happened?“, Lucy asks, worried. Rechecking all the rooms. „Hey Luce, calm down. Come on, take a deep breath“, Ona says, and Lucy rubs a hand over her face before taking a deep breath. „Think. Is there any place Y/N could be? Any place she likes to go to think?“, Keira asks gently but worried about you as well.

The line is silent for a moment as Lucy tries to think. „Isn’t there a spot at the beach close to your apartment that she likes?“, Alexia asks as she remembers you telling her about something like that. „Yeah, I think I know where she is. I‘ll keep you updated, thank you“, Lucy says and hangs up before she grabs her keys and phone and is out the door again. Leaving a completely confused Narla behind.

She sends a quick text to Ona and asks her if she could take Narla out while she was looking for you, which she, of course, does. She runs almost the whole way to the beach. As she gets to the part where it is quiet and especially during this time empty, she sees you leaning at the railing. She sends a quick „I found her“, message to the three girls and packs her phone away. Catching her breath, she slowly approaches you.

„What are you doing here?“, you just ask without looking at the brunette. You know exactly who it is without having to take a look. „I wanted to make sure you’re okay“, Lucy says softly, taking your headphones from your ears carefully. You look at her, your eyes hiding behind your sunglasses. „As you can see I’m fine“, you just say.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. Can we please talk?”, Lucy asks softly. “What? You just wanna tell me I’m ridiculous again? I can deal without, thank you”, You just say and turn to look out to the sea again. “Hey, no”, Lucy says and guides your chin back to look at her. She pushes your sunglasses up to look into your eyes and says honestly “I messed up badly, and I’ve been an ass. I didn’t pay attention and did not treat you like you deserve. I’m sorry. I know a simple I’m sorry won’t do it, but I need you to know that.”

“You know how disgusting it feels to be treated like you make a big deal out of nothing, when it’s all you can think about? When your insecurities and anxiety get dismissed with a simple, you’re being ridiculous? You know how I am Lucy. My logical brain knows that Ona and you are just friends. A simple reassurance and afternoon spend together would’ve fixed everything, but instead, you had to treat me like a piece of shit. Like I’m just this jealous clingy girlfriend. Do you know how much that hurt? To feel like you’re throwing three years away just like that? I’m not asking you to stop spending time with her or not checking on her when she goes down during practice, but, for fucks sake, don’t take me for granted. I don’t need much, but if you want this relationship, you gotta treat me with the respect and love I deserve. Because I can’t take whatever this is much longer. Love me or leave me, that simple”, you tell her as tears start to fall from your eyes. The more words leave your mouth the more tears fall.

She knows how fast you can spiral, but she hasn’t expected it to be this bad. She gently dries your tears as she starts to tear up a bit herself. “Y/N I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I acted like that. I should’ve seen how much my behavior hurt you. Instead, I just kept going and didn’t pay attention. I was wrong, and you didn’t deserve that. I never wanted you to even think about doubting that my love for you is still there. I messed up, and yes, I took you for granted without noticing, and I’ll never forgive myself for that. Y/N, I love you. I love you so much, and I don’t know how my head got so messed up that I stopped trying to show that to you. I’m truly sorry, I promise to make it up to you if you let me. I promise, I love you like you deserve because you deserve the world, my love”, Lucy says honestly, and you just hiccup slightly, trying not to sob. This is all you needed to hear, but you spiraled so deep you’re not sure if you can trust her words.

“Are you just saying this, or is this the truth?”, you ask tearfully. “It’s the truth, please let me make it up to you and love you like you deserve”, Lucy says softly, scared that she really messed up so bad that she’s past the point of a second chance. “Okay”, you mumble quietly, praying you won’t regret trusting her. You’re just in a bad place mentally, and it’s hard to even trust Lucy.

As she hears the okay, she’s quick to pull you into her arms and kisses your forehead. She holds you close, and you cling to her, crying into her chest. Tears are falling down her cheeks as well, but her focus is on you. She needs to take care of you now, treating you like you deserve.

It takes you a few minutes to calm down, Lucy’s heartbeat being able to pull you out of those dark clouds in your head and into a more relaxed state. But that also makes you feel the symptoms of the concussion again. It’s a blessing and a curse. You squeeze your eyes shut as your world spins.

Lucy can tell how unsteady you’re getting, so she just tightens her grip on you and says “Shh, I got you, my love. Let me take care of you.” You just clutch her shirt tightly, leaning on her heavily. Your head pounding. “Let’s get you home. You want me to call a cab to get us home?”, Lucy asks softly as she kisses your head. “No, the motion makes me throw up. I’ll be okay, just give me a minute”, you mumble and try to breathe through the pain and dizziness.

“Take your time, I’ll carry you if you need me too”, Lucy says, and you know she will, but it’s a 15-minute walk to your shared apartment. “Yeah and then you won’t be able to walk for the next three days because of your knee”, You tease weakly. Lucy can’t help but smile at this slight return of banter. “It’s worth it for you”, Lucy just says with a soft shrug and smiles before she kisses your forehead.

You just smile softly and rest against her for a moment longer, taking a few deep breaths. “Okay, I’m ready”, you mumble, and Lucy wraps an arm around your waist to steady you while you make your way home slowly. “When you need a break, tell me”, Lucy says and kisses your temple gently, and you nod.

To be fair, by the time you’re almost home, she is half carrying you. You’re exhausted and definitely pushed yourself too hard today after your concussion. The nausea gets worse the more you walk, so barely five minutes away you stop Lucy and start to throw up again into the grass without much of a warning. “Okay, I got you, love. Deep breaths”, Lucy says, gathering your hair and rubbing your back while keeping you steady. There is not much for you to throw up, so you calm down quickly, but your legs are threatening to give out.

“Do you want me to carry you on my back or bridal style? What do you think will make you less dizzy?”, Lucy asks, it’s not a question of if. It’s how you want to be carried. “Bridal”, you just mumble quietly. Being able to hide your face in Lucy’s neck sounds amazing. She picks you up immediately and carries you the rest of the way home. Did her knee protest a bit? Yes, but she’d do it all over again without a thought.

Once home, she carries you to bed, and you’re greeted by Narla, who jumps on the bed and showers you in kisses. Lucy sets up a bucket and enough water before tucking you in. “Get some sleep. Rest that pretty head of yours. I’ll be here when you wake up”, Lucy says, running her fingers through your hair. “Promise?”, “Promise. I love you”, Lucy says softly.

“I love you too, I missed you”, you just mumble before you doze off. The last thing you feel is a kiss on your forehead.

[hyunniesgirl]

Another Love | part 1

Summary: you've been hopelessly in love with Han since you were children. One night you confess your feelings to him.

Words count: 8,539

Warnings for this part: lots of angst, drunk people, drunk Han is petty asf

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

A/N: So I made that pool asking if I should post this fic in chapters or a 20,000+ words chapter and the long ass chapter won but at the time my mind told me I would be able to finish the whole fic before posting it... Jokes on me I need validation and feedback for me to write so yeah let's do this in chapters, sorry

A/N2: I had this idea for quite some time now but got suddenly inspired listening to the song another love.

You're done. Really, you can't take it anymore. You've known Han Jisung since elementary school, you have been basically joined at the hip since then, your parents even became best friends because of you two.

You don't know exactly when you fell in love with him, was it on your second day at school when he invited you to play with him because he noticed you were all alone? Was it when someone made an awkward joke about your messed up hair cut in second grade and he picked a fight with them? Maybe it was the very first moment you laid eyes on him, joking around with everyone and being the most popular kid in the classroom. You really can't remember, but the thing you're sure of is: Han Jisung doesn't like you back.

You've always known that, but inside you there was a tiny bit of hope that one day he would wake up and suddenly love you back.

That didn't happen though. You are now 23 and he has never ever shown the smallest amount of romantic interest in you.

"That's fine", you thought to yourself, ever since you realized your feelings for him, "I'm going to stay with him his entire life, that doesn't sound so bad"

Until it started to sound really bad. What are you gonna do? See him getting a girlfriend, then getting engaged and eventually married? Would you always be there on the sidelines listening to his lovesick whines about the woman he loves so much? Would you be the godmother to his children? By then, would you have gotten over him already? Or would you keep this up forever, marrying someone just because you can't stay alone and being in love with your best friend for the rest of your life? That was the moment you knew you had to stop, you can't keep this up.

Coincidentally Han broke up with his last girlfriend a few months ago, you thought that would be a good opportunity for you to be his rebound, yeah, pretty dignified of you.

So you dress up really pretty, hair up, a dress that always made Han compliment you and to finish it off—the necklace he gave you on your 12th birthday.

You think this is it, this is the day you're going to tell him how much you love him and maybe, just maybe he will contemplate giving you a chance.

When he arrives at your shared apartment, with two cans of beer and fried chicken, you give him a cheerful greeting, setting the table and trying to gather courage to speak.

"So, how was practice?", you begin, maybe some small talk will help you relax.

"It was good, we are almost done with the album", he says, typing something on his phone. "How was your day?", he asks, putting the device on the table and looking at you.

"Good, I had class in the morning and tutoring in the afternoon", you take a sip of your beer, "one of the mothers actually recommended me to other parents and I'm gonna start tutoring more students next week"

He smiles, "that's good, you're really smart"

You blush, bringing the back of your hands to your face to try and lessen the hot skin of your cheeks with the cold of your hands.

"Actually, I want to talk to you", you start, it's now or never.

"Sure-", Jisung stops mid sentence when his phone buzzes. "Just a minute", he looks at the screen and smiles, your heart sinks at the sight. You know that smile too well, you have seen it dozens of times. You feel your insides turning over. It's the smile meant only for the person he likes.

"Hey, Lia. Yeah, totally, I can talk right now", he picks up the call and once again asks you for a minute lifting his index finger, he walks towards the balcony and closes the glass door after going through it.

He's laughing about something, is she even that funny or is he just trying to win her favor? She's pretty, you know it. All of his girlfriends looked like models. You sigh, looking at yourself and feeling awful, suddenly you don't feel pretty anymore, you actually feel ridiculous.

Why did you think things would change just because you got brave enough to speak up? Jisung sees you as a best friend and nothing more, you have to come to terms with that.

Your mind is rushing, thinking about what you're going to do now? Can you keep being friends with him? Yeah, of course, he's your best friend, you won't end your friendship because you can't control your feelings. But you'll need time, right? You won't be able to get over this unrequited love if you keep seeing him everyday, doing everything with him and sleeping in the same house.

"So, what do you want to talk about?", he asks, sitting again. You didn't even notice he had come back inside.

You sigh, you'll tell him about it all and then you'll find the strength in you to move on.

"I like you", you say so low you're not sure he heard you. But he did, he smiles and chuckles.

"I like you too, we're best friends for a reason", he stretches his arm to take a fried chicken.

"No, I like like you", you admit, hugging yourself, feeling cold suddenly, you look around and see Han left the door to the balcony open. "I've been in love with you since I can remember", you complete.

The look on his face would be funny if it wasn't tragic, his brows are furrowed in confusion and his eyes have a very familiar look: fear. Of course, he's afraid of losing his best friend, you already guessed that much.

"Y/N I-", you notice his breathing quickening. "I'm sorry, I never knew", he says, shoulders slumping, his arms dropping to the side of his body.

"Yeah, I know you didn't", you say. He's still staring at you with so much hurt in his eyes. Jisung knows he will have to turn you down and it's going to hurt him a lot, but not as much as it will hurt you and he never ever wanted to hurt you. 

"I'm sorry, I don't know what to say", he takes a deep breath, "I never thought about you in that way, I'm really sorry, I don't feel the same"

You're not going to cry, you decided that the moment you saw fear in his eyes. It's not his fault you like him, he can't fall in love with you just because you love him. You're not going to cry and make him feel worse than you can tell he's already feeling. But listening to those words it's worse than you could have expected, you feel like the world is crumbling around you.

"I know you don't", you smile sadly.

He looks more confused now.

"Then, why did you tell me?"

"It's just… I'm done with all this", you reply, getting up from your chair.

"Done with our friendship?" Han can feel all the air leaving his body while he waits for your answer.

You chuckle, fidgeting with your foot.

"No, I don't think I could ever be done with that", you smile trying to reassure him and he feels so relieved. "I can't keep doing this, I can't continue seeing you with other people and stay hurting alone"

"I can stop bringing people to the apartment and I'll never talk about them around you", he says trying to help and your stomach sinks a lot more. Why does he have to be so sweet?

"Actually, I'll need some time", you clear your throat, "I think I'm going to stay with Seungmin for the time being, he is looking for a roommate"

Han's eyes widen and he gets up, walking towards you.

"What are you talking about? Are you going to move out?"

"It's not something definitive, I'm going to stay there until he finds a new roommate and come back after that", you take a step back, noticing how close he is to you. "Luckily by then I'll be over you, I think I just need some personal space for now, where you're not there everytime I look, or your things aren't mixed with mine or your scent isn't around every room"

"Will you still speak to me?", he asks, he wants to hug you, to hold you in his arms and say how sorry he is for not feeling the same. But he knows he can't, the best thing he can do is to keep his distance from you right now.

"I think we should keep it restricted to apartment things for now, I'll keep paying my half of the rent since my things will still be here"

"You don't have to pay if you're not here"

Ever since Jisung started making good money he insisted that you didn't have to pay for rent since you only work part time as a tutor to pay for your living expenses but you always refused. Even though he earns a lot more than you it wouldn't be fair for him to be the only one paying and honestly, you felt that if he was the only one paying for it, you would feel too much like you were a couple.

"No, I'll pay you. This arrangement doesn't change the fact that we still share the apartment"

He nods, looking down, the awkward silence making you sick.

"I'm really sorry I hurt you", he whispers and all the crying you avoided over this whole conversation threatens to come out at that exact moment.

"It's not your fault", you say, "I'm sorry I made things awkward, just give me some time and we'll be back to how things were, okay?", you give him a reassuring smile even though you're not sure things will ever go back to the way it was.

You wake up feeling like shit, you cried your eyes out the moment you stepped into Seungmin's apartment. He was so sweet to you, staying awake until you calmed down and even offered you his room for you to sleep but you refused. He was already doing you a favor by letting you stay on his couch until he found a roommate.

You sit, stretching yourself, you slept pretty comfortably but all the stress from last night left your muscles sore.

"Are you feeling better?", you hear Seungmin's voice and look at the kitchen, he's making coffee. That reminds you of all the days you woke Han up with a nice and hot coffee so he wouldn't be in a bad mood waking up so early.

"I don't think so", you answer, shaking your head like that would make your thoughts disappear. "Can you get me some of that?", you ask and he smiles.

"Already on it", you start tidying up the blanket and the pillow you used.

"What are you going to do today?", Seungmin asks while you sit at the table.

"I have some tutoring to do and class in the afternoon, maybe I'll go shopping with Hannah later"

"That's good, try to keep yourself entertained at least for the next couple of days", he hands you the mug and you nod.

All your friends knew about your crush on Han and you made all of them swear they wouldn't tell him. You were afraid things would be awkward now, since Han was their friend before you met them, but they all showed you support now that you had confessed.

Hannah had offered you to stay with her, but she has a roommate that's really strict about everything in their apartment and you don't want to cause trouble to your friend by staying there. Luckily Seungmin's last roommate had moved a couple of weeks ago and he was looking for someone new, but by the way he's picky that's not going to happen so soon.

"Since I'll be staying here and you won't accept money because I won't be using a room, the groceries will be on me and I won't accept no for an answer", you say finishing your coffee and getting up. Seungmin sighs, rolling his eyes.

"I know you're going to buy it anyway, so I'll accept it"

"Then send me a list of whatever you need and I'll buy it tonight or tomorrow", you blow him a kiss, picking your bag from the floor and heading to the bathroom.

You take a long, hot, refreshing shower and pick some comfortable clothes to go to your tutoring session.

Seungmin's already gone when you go back to the kitchen, there's a message from him on your phone.

Minnie: I left some sliced fruit in the fridge for you, eat before going out.

Minnie: I'll send you the list later btw

You smile, having someone taking care of you is nice. For a second, it makes you forget the reason why you're there to begin with.

You feel like crying again, but you can't show up to your students house with red eyes and a puffy face.

The parents that are near each other usually ask you to teach their children together in longer sessions. That strengthens the bond the kids have while strengthening the connection between the families. That usually happens when the families are wealthy, they see an opportunity in their children's friendship to get on each other's good side.

Your parents started hanging out with Jisung's parents too, not because of connections but because you two were always in each other's houses. Once, you broke your arm falling from a tree you tried to climb following Han, his mother had to call yours and calm her down on the phone the entire time your mother was driving to the hospital to meet you. That day you got scolded by both and after they finished the lecture they looked at each other and smiled, bonding over the fear of something happening to their precious child.

When they went out to buy some coffee and talk, Jisung sat by the side of your hospital bed, lips pouting and tearing up.

"I'm sorry I dared you to follow me all the way up there", he says, taking the hand of your good arm and holding it.

"It's okay, now at least I have an exciting story to tell the others", you say and he smiles, whipping his eyes.

The noise of the gate opening wakes you up from your daydream, you have to stop thinking about Han if you want to get over him.

The kids come running in your direction the moment the housekeeper opens the door.

"Miss Y/N, look I got a 9.5 on my test", the girl smiles brightly showing you the paper with the grade marked in red.

"Woah, Misu, you're so smart, I don't think you even need me anymore", you bend to her height and she pouts, sometimes she acts like a little child when she's already 12.

"Of course I need you, you're the prettiest and smartest person I know", she says and you hear someone clear their throats by the stairs. It's Misu's mother.

"If I didn't agree with her I'd be hurt", she says and you smile.

"Good morning, Mrs. Kim, I only helped a little, Misu's really smart", you say and the girl shows you her white teeth, looking at her mother and waiting for some praise.

"Of course she is", she pats the girl's head. "Eun, aren't you going to say hi to Y/N?"

The boy is a few months younger than Misu but a lot more shy. You saw him coming with her when you arrived but got so engrossed in your conversation that forgot he was there in silence.

"Hello, miss Y/N", he says, polite as ever.

"Hi, Eun, did you get a good grade like Misu?"

He nods, showing you his test with 9.8 marked in red.

"He's smarter than me", Misu pouts.

"Congratulations, Eun", you say, patting his head, making him blush and you smile. "I think you are both really smart and I'm here to help you get even smarter"

Mrs. Kim tells you to go ahead and start the lesson and invites you to stay for lunch. You were pretty lucky with the parents you met till now, all of them were nice to you and cared a great deal about their children so it's a lighthearted job to do.

The kids are indeed smart, usually you don't have to explain the same thing more than twice and they always ask a lot of questions during your time with them.

A week goes by since you last saw Jisung, fortunately he didn't try contacting you. You're sure that if he did you'd break hearing his voice and would beg for him to like you back, giving up on any pride you still have left.

You arrive at school an hour before your classes begin, you're meeting Hannah at the cafe nearby so you can talk a bit.

You look at your phone, there's a message from her saying she's on the bus but the traffic is awful so she might be a little bit late.

You choose a table by the window, contemplating if you should order already or wait till Hannah arrives.

Looking outside, you remember the moment you heard the news that you got into this university. Yours and Jisung's family were at your parents house, you both were seated on the couch when you received the message saying the college entrance results came out. You couldn't type your information, you were trembling so much Han had to do it for you.

When you read your name and the word "accepted" you actually screamed, making your mother drop the plate she had in hands. Your father and Han's came running to see what happened when Jisung showed them the screen.

Your mother and father embraced you, telling how proud they were of you and Jisung's parents did the same, like you were their own daughter.

Jisung wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, spinning you and making you burst out laughing. That moment was so good, you wanted to stay there forever.

"Earth to Y/N", you hear Hanna's voice and snap out of your thoughts, sighing. "Is everything okay?", she asks, worried.

"Yeah, I'm good", you say and she narrows her eyes, knowing you are not telling the truth.

Hannah left it at that though, you are going through a hard time and she doesn't want to push it.

Honestly, she don't expect you to be fine. Your lifelong crush had rejected you and to make things worse he is your best friend, so yeah, of course you are not okay.

"Then, I'm going to order", she drops her bag in the seat in front of you, "your usual?"

You nod, seeing her walk to the cashier. You met Hannah three years ago, when you started college. She's the total opposite of you, really outgoing and a total social butterfly, it seems those are the people you attract seeing how Han is the same.

She sat by your side on the first day, making a random joke and making you laugh, that's how she became your best friend. You didn't even have to tell her about your one sided love, she had to see only one interaction between you and Jisung to know exactly what was going on.

She is the one that urged you to tell him about your feelings and was very adamant about you moving on from him, she couldn't let you waste all your 20's being in love with someone that didn't like you back… or not the way you wanted to.

"So, I heard about a party", Hannah says, putting the pager on the table and sitting in front of you.

"There's like a hundred of those, you have to be more specific", you joke and she rolls her eyes.

"You know that guy from English literature? The one that dyed his hair pink last semester?"

"Yeah, it's kinda hard to forget about him", you laugh.

When Yunho came to school with pink hair a rumor of him becoming an idol started going around, everyone tried to be nice to him and all that shit but it turned out he just lost a bet.

"He's hosting this party in like a really big fancy place to celebrate his graduation", she finishes.

"That's nice", you say, fidgeting with your fingers under the table.

"Hmmm, are we going to go or what?", she asks and you glance at her.

"Were we invited?"

"Ahm, you're hot and I'm hot, why wouldn't we be invited?"

You laugh, knowing what she's doing. Hannah is more sensible than you give her credit for, you really thought she would ask about everything that happened on that night, but instead she has been trying to distract you for the past week and that is really nice of her.

She smiles, seeing you smile. Hannah knows you never give enough credit to yourself, you never think you're pretty enough, funny enough, cool enough or smart enough even though you're those things and much more. She approached you on your first day because there's just something about you, something bright and cheerful. When people are upset, mad or sad you always do your best to make them feel better, so Hannah felt this was her time to cheer you up.

The pager buzzes on the table and she gets up, going to the counter to get your orders.

You look at her coming back with a big grin in her lips, handing you the coffee with a note glued to the cup sleeve.

"To the girl with the yellow cardigan, I see you coming here often and I think you're cute, maybe we can hangout sometime? If you're up to it, text me: xxx xxxx-xxxx"

You blush, looking at the counter and seeing the cutest guy looking at you with flushed cheeks. He's so red you can see it from where you're seated. He smiles waving at you and you wave back.

Hannah has one eyebrow lifted looking at your interaction and you feel your cheeks even hotter.

"So, are you going to text him?", she asks, reading the note and you sigh.

"I don't think so", you say, sipping at your coffee.

"Why not?"

"I don't think it would be fair to someone if I start something with them when I'm still in love with someone else", you answer and Hannah sighs.

"Yeah, you have a point", she pouts, "but like, maybe messing around a little won't hurt? I mean, he's not in love with you or anything, you can talk with each other and see where things go"

Hannah's right and you know it. Even though it's still too soon, you should try meeting new people, you're not going to get over Han just by staying away from him.

This feelings, you have it with you for so long, it's hard to let it go. Loving Han is the only romantic feeling you have ever known, it's scary to walk off of this thing you know so well  to something completely new.

You have to, though. It's the only way for your friendship to keep existing. So you nod to Hannah, taking your phone out of your pocket and dialing the number written on the cup, seconds later you're typing a message.

You: Hey, it's the girl in the yellow cardigan, my name is Y/N btw

You send and hear a ping, you thought he would have his phone on silent mode and sudden embarrassment creeps up when you see him taking his phone out of the pocket of his apron.

Cute guy: Hey, I was afraid of making you uncomfortable, so let me apologize first. I just didn't know how to approach you

Cute guy: Ah, and I'm Heeseung

You change the name in his contact before replying.

You: it didn't make me uncomfortable and thank you for calling me cute.

Heeseung: you don't have to thank me for telling the truth.

You giggle, it's interesting to feel like this, even though you can tell it's something temporary.

You: lol, you're really smooth.

"Let's go?", Hannah says, smirking at you and you blush. You nod, picking your things up and getting up from the table, you wave goodbye to Heeseung before going out and he smiles brightly at you.

>><<

The morning after you went away, Han woke up feeling awful, all the things that happened the previous night coming back at him at the same time. He was sure the moment you walked out of the door, giving him your best smile and trying not to cry was the saddest he ever felt in his entire life. You were his best friend, you were everything to him, he felt like shit because he never noticed your feelings. He doesn't know what he would have done if he knew, but maybe he could have been better, talking less about his relationships and especially not bringing his hook ups to the apartment.

He got up, feeling like crying everytime he had to pass by your bedroom door, knowing you were not there and wouldn't be for far too long, all because of him. The bell rings and he runs to the door, hoping it's you, hoping you'll tell him everything was a joke and that you didn't actually like him. Even though he knows you wouldn't press the doorbell since you know the password and he knows the hurt in your eyes when he said he didn't feel the same as you was no joke.

So it was no surprise when he opened the door and found Chan and Changbin there. They did tell him they were going to stop by in the morning to pick him up but with all the things that happened he just forgot about it.

"Are you okay? You look like shit", Changbin says entering the house.

Chan looks at Han, worried.

"Are you sick?", he asks, "where's Y/N?" He knows you wouldn't leave Han alone if he were sick, but you would have shown up already by hearing Changbin's loud voice.

"She's gone", Han says, running his hands through his hair.

"What do you mean?", Chan asks with wide eyes.

"She- she confessed to me and I turned her down", he says, maybe he should have told you he could like you back, that way he wouldn't be feeling this way and you'd still be there with him.

"Shit", Changbin says, his lips pressed in a thin line.

Han looks at the both of them, why don't they look surprised?

"You guys knew about it?" He asks, a little louder than his usual voice and the boys exchange a look. "Woah, thanks for the heads up"

He shouldn't be mad at them, it's not their fault, but he's already too mad at himself so he doesn't know where else to put the blame.

"It was not our place to tell you", Chan says.

"Does everyone know?", Han asks and Changbin nods, "so I was the only one? Am I dumb or something?"

Chan sighs, "it's not really your fault for not knowing, you probably are used to the way Y/N looks and talks to you because you're best friends since you were children, but to the people outside it is pretty clear from the get go that she likes you"

"But where did she go? Are you not friends anymore?", Changbin asks the difficult questions and Chan glares at him.

"She said she will be staying with Seungmin till he finds a roommate and then she's going to come back"

"She probably just needs some time", Chan says, putting a hand on Han's shoulder trying to reassure him, and he really hopes that's the case.

>><<

You've been texting Heeseung for a few days now and he's pretty nice, he's a dance major and works part time at the cafe to pay for living expenses the same as you do with tutoring.

Hannah had convinced you to go to Yunho's party and get wasted, saying you need the college life experience the most now that you had your first heartbreak but you don't want to think about that, you want to forget that you ever loved Han Jisung.

So you drink a whole bottle of wine before leaving for the party, Seungmin's coming with you and Hannah will meet you there. You are looking good, or maybe it's the alcohol that makes you feel good, your hair is down, you're wearing a black lace cropped top you borrowed from Hannah, with a much lower neckline than you are used to, high waisted jeans and black boots.

The party is already crowded when you and Seungmin get there and it's really a fancy place like Hannah told you.

"Let's grab a drink", you yell to Seungmin.

"You should drink water, you're already drunk", he demands and you show your tongue to him.

"Nooooo, don't be a killjoy"

He sighs, it's hard to convince you of something when you're sober, it's even harder when you're drunk.

"You can have a drink after you drink a cup of water", he tells you and you nod, sounds like a win win for you.

After drinking a whole cup of water you show it to him, waiting for a praise and Seungmin rolls his eyes. What are you, a 10 year old?

"Good job, now you can drink", he gives you a cup with something mixed in it, "but you have to drink some water for each drink you take, okay?"

"Okay, dad", you joke, sipping your drink.

Seungmin knows a lot of people at the party and you feel left out every time someone approaches him so you're really happy when Hannah shows up, with a much taller boy accompanying her.

"Look who I found", she says pointing at him.

"Heeseung?", you scream, startling Seungmin who's close to you.

"Jesus, Y/N, calm down", he says putting his hand over his ear, "I'm a singer, I can't lose my hearing", he says and you pout, whining an apology even though you know he's not really mad.

"I didn't know you were gonna be here", Heeseung gets closer to you, side eyeing Seungmin.

"I didn't want to come, Hannah made me", you tell him, "this is Seungmin, he's my friend"

He nods at the boy by your side, relaxing to hear you call Seungmin a friend.

"Hey, Minnie, let's go dance?", Hannah says and Seungmin narrows his eyes suspiciously.

"I don't dance", he answers, crossing his arms and she sighs.

"For fucking sake, just come with me", she says and Seungmin follows her without more questions, he knows too well not to mess with her when she gets angry.

"You look really pretty", Heeseung says, bending a little to lessen the difference in your height. You blush even though it's not as good hearing him saying that as it was when Han complimented you, but you're trying to get over that, aren't you?

"Thanks, you look hot too", you hiccup, you don't have a filter when you're drunk. He smiles, turning around on the table and pouring you a cup of water.

"Drink this, it's going to help", he hands it to you.

"Thank you, you're so sweet and handsome", you yell again but he doesn't flinch like Seungmin did.

"You can't keep saying these kinds of things and not want me to kiss you", he says and you smile, sly.

"Who says I don't want that?", the moment he comprehends what you just said his face reddens, and he thought he was being bold.

"Once you sober up we can talk about that", he tells you and you pout. You wanted to kiss him now, maybe if you did all the hurt you were feeling would go away. Maybe you just needed someone to make you forget about Jisung.

"But I want it now", you cross your arms, behaving like a child that didn't get their way.

"Do you like dancing?", he changes the subject. Your face brightens with his question.

"I LOVE dancing", you show him the choreography to queencard that's playing on the dance floor and he laughs at your messy steps, he's sure you're much better at it while sober.

"Then drink this and let's dance", he hands you another cup of water.

"Seungmin told me I could have a drink after a cup of water, but this makes two cups of water and no drink", you point out and Heeseung can't help but find the drunk you really cute.

"This water will help you so you won't have a bad hangover tomorrow", he says and you nod, that's a good point.

Super by seventeen starts playing and you finish downing the water, grabbing Heeseung's hand and dragging him to the dance floor.

Being a dance major, of course he knows the steps and he's so good there are moments you just stop and watch him in a daze. Actually, he knows the steps to every song playing after that too, you dance so much you're all sweaty and your legs are tired. You're totally sober now, feeling ecstatic. It's so good being at a party having so much fun.

You're jumping and smiling until you see him.

You stop in your tracks seeing Han Jisung staring at you from the other side of the dance floor, your smile fades away as soon as your eyes lock with his.

He looks sick, he lost a lot of weight considering the short period of time you haven't seen each other and he wasn't smiling like he always did. He takes a step in your direction and you automatically step away, your stomach sinking.

You're feeling your heart beat so fast it's overlapping with the loud music, you gulp feeling your legs weaken, why the hell are you having this reaction? He's the same Han Jisung you've known since you were a child, the only difference now is that he knows how you feel about him.

You can't avoid him until you get over your feelings, that won't work and you know it, you have to get used to being near him feeling nothing other than friendship, but you can't see him at that moment, you just can't. You're having fun, there's a handsome guy with you and you want to like him and not Jisung.

You grab Heeseung's hand and pull him away from the dance floor, walking outside so you can breathe some fresh air.

"Did something happen?", he asks, looking confused and worried.

"It just felt stiff in there for a moment", you say and he nods.

You didn't want to explain to him why you were not speaking to your best friend and how messed up your relationship with Han is right now. You want to forget about it and your way of doing it is right by your side, handsome and available.

"So, about that thing you said we could do once I sobered up… I'm sober now", you say and he blushes, analyzing you for a moment to see if you are telling the truth.

The last drink you took was more than an hour ago and you drank so much water after that, it's a miracle you still don't have to use the toilet.

"I don't want to do something you'll regret later", he says and you appreciate how considerate he is. But right now you don't want someone considerate, you want someone that'll sweep you off your feet and help you forget what you so desperately want to. So you get closer, caging him against the wall and tiptoeing, trying to get closer to his face.

"If you don't want to, it's okay. But if you're holding back because you think I'm drunk, I'm not", that was his cue to kiss you. His lips crashing sloppily onto yours, hands cupping your face then moving down to your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck trying to get closer than you already are. He's good, you've kissed enough people in your life to know that, yet you feel sick.

You feel bad and like a horrible person because you just know he can't compare to Jisung even though you never kissed your best friend.

You feel bad thinking about someone else while kissing Heeseung, he's so nice and sweet and you know he's not fooling around, if you give him the chance he's going to truly like you and you're only using him.

You step away sighing, seeing his brows furrowed and the confusion in his eyes.

"Was it that bad?", he jokes but you can see he's feeling hurt. "I'm not trying to brag, but I never got a reaction like that after a kiss"

You smile apologetically, looking for words to explain yourself.

"It was great and you're great", you begin, "I think you're too sweet, that's why I can't lead you on"

"What are you talking about?" he asks, even more confused.

"I'm in love with someone else and I know it sounds awful, I did try to get over him with you but I feel like you'll really like me if we don't stop right now and I'm not sure if I'll be able to be that person for you", you look at him, seeing the disappointment in his face. "I'm sorry, I'm a terrible person and you can hate me if you want"

He stares at you for a few moments, sighing and giving you a reassuring smile after.

"I don't think you're terrible, I think you're truly brave for coming clean like that", you're relieved, you were afraid he would say something mean and even though you feel like you deserve it, you're really fragile right now. "Thank you for telling me before I got too deep into this and I don't know, maybe we can be friends?"

"Absolutely, I would love that"

"So, do you want to go back inside?", he asks and you shake your head.

"I don't think so, I should probably go home", you say, you don't want to go back there to see Han again.

"Do you want me to take you home?"

"It's okay, I'm going to text Seungmin and see where he's at but you can go inside, I'm going to stay here and get some more fresh air"

"Alright, I'll see you at the cafe"

You nod, seeing him walk away. Woah, you just let that masterpiece of a man go because you can't forget about a fucking unrequited love. You curse yourself, slapping your forehead.

After that, you text Seungmin telling where you are and asking where the hell he and Hannah went, sending the same message to her and waiting for their answer.

You sit on the grass, taking a deep breath. You feel a bit sick after seeing Jisung, you never thought you'd feel that way. Never in your worst nightmares did you think you would be afraid to talk to him, maybe you're scared of talking to him and feeling nothing, what if all of this was just in your head and you just needed some time apart to figure it out?

You hear steps close to you and pray it's not some horny couple trying to fuck near you, however, the moment you lay eyes on your best friend you actually wish it was a horny couple.

You get up in a jump, your stomach sinking and your head spinning. Why does it hurt so much suddenly? It feels like your chest is being torn apart and you can't do a thing to make it better.

Jisung looks worse up close, he has huge bags under his eyes and he's too pale.

You're worried about him, even though you can't have the luxury of that. Not when your insides are all messed up and you want to throw up. You walk past him without saying a word, you can't handle this right now, but he grabs your wrist holding you in place. You don't look at him, staring at the floor trying to get out of his grip.

"I miss you", he says and your heart drops to your stomach. Why is he doing this to you? It's not like being apart from your best friend is fun to you. "Can't you look at me?", he pleads but you can't find the courage to do that yet. "Please", but he sounds so desperate, you force yourself to do it.

You look at him, he's obviously drunk. Who the hell let him drink this much?

"What is it?", you sound more spiteful than you were planning and his eyes widen, releasing your arm from his grasp.

"Do you hate me now?", he asks and you sigh.

"Of course I don't hate you, you're my best friend", you say that but for some reason it doesn't feel right, it doesn't sound like the truth.

"Can't you come back home? I feel like shit everytime I wake up and you're not there"

"I told you I need time", you say, running your hands through your hair.

"Are you going to forget about me by fucking some random dude?", he asks and you glare at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"I don't understand how that's any of your business"

"It is, because you told me you love me but you act like you never want to see my face again", he scoffs.

You feel mad, what's he trying to say? Should you keep hurting just because you love him?

"I can't sit around forever, waiting for you to look at me", you say and he steps closer to you.

"I'm looking at you right now, I- I'll be good to you, I'll like you back", the moment he finishes saying that, you can't control the tears running through your eyes.

Is that supposed to be good? He would be forced to date you so he could have you close to him?

"Why are you doing this to me?" You ask and he takes a step back startled with you tears, suddenly sobering up, "it's not easy for me to be away from you, you're my best friend, but I do have some bit of dignity left in me and I won't accept less than I deserve, even if that less is the man I love with me", you wipe your tears seeing him step closer, trying to reach your hand and you step away, "don't come close to me right now, I could never stay with you knowing you don't love me, you should know that"

You turn around trying to get away from him but stop on your tracks seeing Hannah, Seungmin, Chan and Changbin right there looking at you awkwardly. Of course, the humiliation is the cherry on the top. You pass through them feeling so embarrassed you want the earth to swallow you.

The ride home is awkward and silent. Hannah and Seungmin keep exchanging looks while you look out the window trying to figure how your life became this mess.

You really should have dated Jeongho when he asked you out in middle school, it was around that time that you realized you liked Han more than just a friend—when Haneul asked to be his date to the school festival and you wanted to punch her so hard. Maybe if you had dated that boy at that time you would have forgotten the feelings you had for your friend, maybe you would have brushed it off as some childhood crush, but no, you rejected Jeongho while Han went with Haneul to the school festival and you third wheeled the whole event earning nasty glances from her every time your best friend played two times the same game so he could win you a plush too.

Back then you still thought everything would be okay, if only you had him everything would be okay.

You start bawling without notice, crying so much you can't even breathe. Seungmin stops the car and Hannah gets to the back, hugging you and caressing your hair while whispering that everything will be fine and you really want to believe her.

You don't know how you got into Seungmin's apartment, you guess he carried you inside after dropping Hannah home but you're not sure. It's sunday so he's not up yet for you to ask and it doesn't actually matter, what matters is the absolutely pathetic scene you made at the party and in the car. You want to bury yourself into a hole and never come back, how the hell are you going to face your friends after they saw you being humiliated by Han like that?

You know he was drunk, of course he was. You know he didn't mean it, he was hurt and drunk and people act on feelings not reason when they are like that. But does he think you have no pride? Does he really think you would date him knowing he doesn't like you back?

It's different when you confessed to him, you knew he didn't like you that way. But if he told you that there was something there, that he was not going to promise you anything but someday he may like you back, that's all you needed to hear. However, that didn't happen. He told you with all the words that he doesn't like that way, that he doesn't feel the same way as you do, there was no room for interpretation, no room for what if's.

You get up, in need to distract yourself. This week is going to fly by, you have tutoring lessons using up all your free time so you just have to get through the day.

There are a lot of messages on your phone, you really don't want to read them because you know that other than Hannah's, it's awkward comforting words from your other friends.

Hannah: call me when you wake up

Hannah: let's go eat something delicious, what do you think? It's on me.

Hannah: are you still not up or are you ignoring me?

You: I just woke up, calm down girl

You: why would I ignore you though? I just have to brush my teeth and eat something then I'll call you.

Binnie: morning babes

Binnie: Hannie is such an asshole

Binnie: I'll date you if you want, you're hot it's a win win for me

You chuckle to Changbin texts, he's so sweet in the weirdest way.

You: I mean, you're hot too

You: I think we'd make an awesome couple

Chan: good morning, Y/N

Chan: we didn't hear anything last night, so please, don't be awkward or embarrassed around us.

You: good morning Channie, I know you heard

You: you should have matched your story with Changbin before texting me though

You: it's okay, alright? Of course I'll be embarrassed for the time being, but we're friends I won't be embarrassed forever.

You leave your phone on the couch and go to the bathroom. You look like shit, smeared makeup, hair disgusting and you're still wearing the same clothes. You turn on the hot water, taking your clothes off and entering the shower, the warmth embracing you as you feel more relaxed.

You put on something comfortable, it's Sunday, you're going to ask Hannah to come by and you're going to order takeout.

You call her number while eating because you know she's anxious.

"Hey babes, good morning", she picks up, cheerful as always.

"Good morning", you say, biting the toast you just made.

"So, what about going out and eating something really good?", she asks.

"Hm, I'm actually not in the mood to go out? Can't you come by, we order something and watch that movie you've been bugging me for the last month?"

"Yeah, sure. We can do that", she answers and you are happy she doesn't sound upset or disappointed. With all the shit you're pulling lately you're scared your friends are going to get tired of your bullshit and stop talking to you. You used to think no one wanted a friend that's always crying and whining, but they showed you that real friends help each other.

"So what time are you gonna come?"

"I will just take a shower and wait for the bus, so in maybe like an hour?", she guesses and you nod forgetting she can't see you.

"Okay, see you then"

You decide to clean the house while waiting, Seungmin is pretty organized and clean so there's nothing too difficult. You'll just wash the dishes and vacuum a little.

Hannah arrives later than she predicted, Seungmin is already up and cleaning his room. He scolded you because it's his day to do the dishes and you shouldn't have done it because it's not fair to you.

You think he's being extra nice to you because of what happened the night before and it's true, he was really scared when you cried in his car.

He has known you for almost five years and he never saw you cry like that, even on the night you came to his house after confessing to Han you didn't cry like that. This time was different, you had a soul crushing cry, he wanted to stop the car and go to the back to hug you the same as Hannah, but he knew you were already being comforted by the perfect person.

Han is his friend, he could never choose between you two. But he couldn't deny it, that was a dick move, how could he ever say that to someone that likes him? He basically told you that he could pretend to like you if you stayed with him.

And of course, Seungmin understands the fear of losing a friend, but doing what he did just increases the chances of you never wanting to see his face again.

You are seated on the couch, watching the movie Hannah is obsessed with at the moment. She already watched it five times alone and asks anyone she can find to watch it again with her, she even repeats some sentences together with the characters.

The pizza you ordered is almost gone, you didn't know you were so hungry until the smell hit your nose. Luckily or thanks to Seungmin and Heeseung, your hangover is not that bad and you want it to stay that way so you keep drinking lots of water.

You got through the day thanks to your friends, they kept you entertained the whole time so you wouldn't overthink or even think about Han.

You are doing that just now, looking at the ceiling in the dark room. You want it all to be a dream, maybe you would wake up tomorrow and still be in middle school, you'd take the opportunity and get over him at that time, that would have spared you of some big problems.

----------------

A/N: So, I don't know how many parts this fic will have. If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback give me motivation to keep writing.

[frogchiro]

HII HII ur writing is perf 4 this idea but you don’t hav 2 do it !! i js thought of u <3 little red riding hood reader & big bad wolf (ko, ghost, price) any cod guy & i think it’s js soo cute !!!

[art by doujinpearl]

ARE YOU KIDDING ME THIS IS SO CUTE??? YOU NEVER MISS LOVE!!! And thank you it really means a lot to me that you like my silly writing <33

tw// horror elements and this has like one mention of a 'off-screen' death but no one major

I think I'm gonna go with König for this one?? Bc something about him just screams big bad wolf to me y'know? Also for the sake of this story, König is described like on the pics above, so his lower half is life a literal werewolf.

okay also i'm putting this under the cut because this somehow grew into a whole fic?? My dear @9irly9irl if you see this know that I love you and this was so. freaking. enjoyable to write??? I love this so much??? Also I'm sorry for the horror themes but I'm getting ready for October and the gloomy weather outside made me do this. I hope you still enjoy and PLEASE send me more for this au!!

Big bad wolf König who is on the prowl for some time now, he's on a hunt for you, the sweet girl who lives alone with her mother on the edge of the dark forest your good old momma always tells you to stay away from and for good reason. The townsfolk from the villages around whisper in fear and dread about a monster lurking in the woods, half man-half wolf with an insatiable taste for blood; they call the beast König, the undisputed King.

And honestly? König likes that rep. It means less annoying pests wandering around his territory safe for a groups of young guys from time to time who think they have the balls to try and 'kill the beast' but they are dealt with...pretty quickly.

But no, König has his glowing eyes set on something more...Exquisite. On something soft and pliable, sweet smelling and so so pretty. Namely on you. The werewolf guesses he has to be thanking his lucky starts or whatever bullshit that while sniffing around your cottage he overheard your mother talking about going out into the forest to bring her sickly mother, your grandma, a basket full of food and some other supplies and being the sweet little thing that you are, you of course cried and volunteered to go yourself, that your mother is already older and that you will make quick work of it.

König swears that day that his blood never rushed downward to his dick so fast. You, soft little you, all alone in his forest? His territory?? It's like you're begging to get taken and mated! The trek from your cottage to your grandma's home would take you about 2-3 days as she lives deep in the woods, the perfect timing for him to reveal himself and take you away for himself into his den in the darkest parts of the forest where you will have the perfect life with him! No more worrying about food or warmth during the cold, dreary winter months, he is more than a capable provider for his future mate, not to mention your future litter of happy yipping pups you will birth for him! It's a perfect plan!

And so he waits. And waits. And waits until the day you finally leave with your cute basket in tow and a tearful goodbye with your mommy dear that you will return as soon as possible. Yea, sure sweetheart.

I think he'd reveal himself by the time it's getting nighttime, when the sun sets, the air is getting cold and a ominous darkness sets over the forest where your trembling body sits in a makeshift nest made of a blanket and a thick animal pelt under a old, big tree. Everything seems so loud, the cries of nocturnal animals sound much more bleak and unnerving, not to mention the weird, chilling feeling of...something following you. Like there were a pair of eyes trained on you since a few weeks ago but you never mentioned this to your poor mother as you didn't want to worry her, but the feeling only amplified ever since you left your home and went on a trip to your grandmother.

You couldn't help the loud yelp you let out when suddenly a pair of glowing golden eyes appeared in the small clearing around the tree; a pair of glowing, unblinking orbs that seemed to be suspended in the air in the surrounding darkness, the weak fireplace you managed to make doing basically nothing to light up the area and your poor little heart started to beat like crazy when you noticed the eyes moving forward, closer and closer to you until the light finally caught what was moving towards you...or more like who.

It was an enormous man, easily over 7ft tall, his broad, bulky shoulders moving as he stood from the position he was in to his full height and those ominous glowing eyes still were unblinking as they stared at you like you were just some lamb and...you probably were.

The one thing that somehow stood out the most, even amidst literally everything else unnatural about this man, were a pair of ear on top of his head, which only now you noticed was covered in some sort of tattered old hood with holes for the eyes and ears, and a huge fluffy tail which was wagging faster anytime you seemed to look the man over, but what really brought it all together was his lower half...it-it was all fur. His legs were that of some bipedal wolf and in that moment a silent scream tried to make its way out of your throat; it was König, the brutal and unforgiving beast that resided in the surrounding forests, the one that people tell horror stories about around campfire and...he was here. He was here before you to tear you apart and leave nothing behind, not even bones.

Tears were streaming down your face, a look of utter defeat on it because after all, what more could you do? You can't possibly fight him, you can't outrun him, hiding is out of the picture too...You were ready to feel the unimaginable pain of those jaws locking themselves on your throat and draining you of your life but the you felt...warmth? A slick, warm feeling on your cheek and when you opened your eyes a bit you saw what it was. It was König, or more like his long tongue licking away at your cheek in an almost comforting matter, his wide unblinking eyes still trained on you though his pupils seemed to grow in size, now taking over most of the glowing yellow and when he deemed you to be clean of your tears, a large crooked nose with a scar running across it nudged into your cheek and took a deep sniff to get your scent. A stray thought ran through your mind when you took a closer look at his uncovered face and noticed another huge scar across his face and a few smaller ones, who or what in their right mind got close enough to inflict such wounds on someone like König?

When you stayed still and just stared at him wide eyed and out of breath König let out a deep growl like purr of content; he could hear your small aborted breaths still coming out quick and your heart fluttering in your chest like a small erratic bird but he could see that you were a tiny bit calmer now and not on the brink of hysterics like a few seconds before. He couldn't help but grin in delight, a nasty, wide thing that revealed rows of sharp teeth. He finally had you. He had you exactly where he wanted and now you were his. Well not completely yet, you two would need to mate first but still, everyone had to start somewhere right? For now he had you calmed down even for a bit, showed you that he wasn't a threat to you and wasn't going to hurt you. It was still only the night of the first day of your travels and he will offer to guide you, he couldn't possibly allow such a cute young lady to just wander around the deep dark forest all alone, right?

Of course he won't mention it that he will be herding you away from the path and instead guide you deeper and deeper into the heart of the woods where his den in. He won't mention it that he will be making very obvious and insistent advances at you, insisting on staying close at all times and wrapping his huge body around you at night for warmth, nosing and nudging at you to cover you in his scent and maybe make you a little bit hot under that deliciously low neckline of the dress that you're wearing, the cape in a lovely shade of red acting like a blanket to shield you away when König is nosing at your neck and bosom, greedy for all the tiny, shy, flustered noises you make, greedy for making you all hot and ready for him.

And of course he certainly won't mention to you about your poor old granny's corpse, rotting for weeks already in her old, decaying house where she died of some illness or old age. No, no, your new life is here, with him. Forever.

[barnesafterglow]

first burn

summary: your crush on peter may burn you alive

pairing: mcu!peter parker x avenger!reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: not canon compliant (no snap, everyone is happy and healthy and no one did anything stupid), peter is of age and well within his rights to fuck!!, a little tropey for a second (brief "fake dating" and "only one bed" to move the story along), smut [unprotected sex, pull out method oral (f receiving), just some sweet love making dude], listen i'm here for a good time not a long time

a/n: two fics in a year?? who is she

main masterlist - i no longer have a taglist but you can follow @theafterglowlibrary for updates!

Peter Parker was going to be the death of you.

With each grunt that echoed through the gym in Avengers Tower, your eyes flicked to his sweaty form. The goddamned death of you.

You tried to backtrack, to see when these feelings first started as a small burning in the back of your mind that had turned into a raging wildfire every time you were in his presence. It had to have been the mission in London.

It was normal - or as normal as any Avengers mission could be. 

You had just stumbled through the throes of midtown London, hand in hand with your boyfriend, looking with every bit of wonder like neither of you had ever seen the delights it had to offer.

Then, as soon as you stepped through the hotel door, Peter dropped your hand as if it had burned him the whole time. 

Maybe it started then, with that glimmer of disappointment. Peter wasn’t your boyfriend and he would never take the time to take you around tourist London like he had just done. 

And then that pit in your stomach grew as the door to your room opened: only one bed. Jesus Christ, Tony. 

“I know,” came the response from beside you; you must have spoken out loud. “It’ll be fine.”

Those were the last words he spoke for a long while, as you both got ready for bed, then slid in beside each other. The tension was palpable, and you didn’t know if it was your slowly mounting feelings or the clench of his discomfort, but regardless you slept fitfully for hours until you finally stumbled into a deep sleep.

You woke up to a strong pair of arms wrapped around your middle - somehow pressed there in the dark of the night - and the world spun around you as you shot up.

Peter was alert in seconds, standing by the bed assessing for a threat, when his eyes met yours - utterly confused and you had no real answer for him.

“Bad dream,” you mumbled as you headed to the bathroom, the door clicking with a sort of finality behind you.

And it was fine, really it was. You definitely didn’t think about the way press of his body against yours and how sexy his bed head had looked. Nope. Not at all. 

And you definitely didn’t imagine what he would have looked like if you were the one who made him sweaty and flushed like he was right now.

Snapping out of your borderline impure thoughts, you stood from your spot on the ground where you had been warming up and - before your mouth said something you could regret - you walked out of the gym.

With your back turned, you missed the way Peter’s eyes followed you the whole way.

-

Saturday nights were girl’s nights, as Wanda so boldly claimed. And girl’s night came with a lot of complaining.

Throwing the shot back, you groaned, not even wanting to voice your thoughts aloud.

“I shouldn’t even think about it,” you said. “He’s practically a kid.”

“Not to impede on your self-loathing, but he’s not a kid anymore babe,” was Natasha’s response. She nodded across the bar where Peter was sipping his beer, laughing at something Sam had said. Right, he was 22 and totally within your age range, but that didn’t mean you didn’t still see him as the 16 year old kid who had fought by Tony’s side. “Plus you’re not that much older than him. We used to call you a kid too, you know.”

Dragging your hand down your face, you stood from the table to order another drink, ignoring Nat and Wanda’s laughter at your misery.

As you leaned against the bar waiting, Peter dropped down into the stool beside you.

“Alright, what did I do to you?” His words were casual, joking, but you could hear the hurt laced within. That was never your intention, and your heart sank.

You and Peter had been friends for a long time, since Tony had first brought him in after the air had cleared with him and Cap. You bonded over being the youngest Avengers and what that meant for your lives. The two of you understood each other on another level that no one else truly did. And here you were, ruining everything over a little crush.

“Nothing, Pete.” You ruffled your hand through his hair and his face lit up in a blush that he tried to hide behind his beer bottle. “How have you been?”

“Not too bad, I guess,” he replied, then looked down at you - when had he gotten so tall - with an unreadable emotion on his face. “I miss you.”

Right. And you were back where you started. Admittedly, you had avoided him for the most part since that London mission, only saying hi in passing and at the occasional movie night or debrief. You weren’t exactly proud of it, but you didn’t know what else to do.

“I miss you too,” you whispered, shame coating your words. You never meant to hurt him - honestly, you didn’t. “Listen, kid, I just-“

“Don’t call me kid.” And the anger in his words surprised you. “I’m not that kid you met six years ago - when you were barely any older, might I remind you - and you know that. I know you know that. So don’t use that as an excuse to stop whatever is going on here.” His hands gestured between the two of you. 

Strong, capable hands that you had seen hurt and save, had seen run through his hair, had seen play video games. Hands that you had imagined for weeks now. Hands that you couldn’t help but grab out of mid air, clasping one in your own. 

“And what’s going on here, Peter?”

He leaned in close, breath hot on your ear. 

“I see the way you look at me.” Your breath hitched, then stopped altogether. “But I don’t think you see me looking right back.”

Body all of a sudden hot and raging with emotion, you squeezed his hand and took a deep breath. 

“Take me home.”

-

Your apartment was closer, so you walked the handful of blocks from the bar in tangible silence. Every brush of fingers was an electric jolt through your body and every bump of shoulders sent heat through your core. By the time you reached your front door, the tension was pulled so tight it was bound to snap at any moment.

And snap it did.

As soon as you had the apartment door closed behind you, Peter was on you, his hands everywhere all at once. He crowded you, pulling you close to him when you winced at the door knob digging into your side. One hand came to rest on your hip, rubbing soothing circles there, while the other cradled your face, eyes searching for permission.

You didn’t know what you were giving him permission for, but you nodded anyway.

The world around you stopped as Peter placed a searing kiss to your lips, stealing the breath from your lungs. The hand on your face moved to gently tug your hair and he took your gasp as an invitation to explore your mouth. God the boy knew how to kiss.

His tongue pressed into you, tasting every inch while your hands roamed his body. When he pulled away - not for air, not to leave you, but to place hot kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of burning fire in their wake - you tugged on his t-shirt in a silent plea for him to take it off.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen him without a shirt before. Between missions and training and plain old gym sessions, you were thankfully no stranger to a shirtless Peter Parker. But in the dim light of your living room, with those brown eyes boring into your own, everything was suddenly different.

You just stared - for far longer than necessary, you were sure - until he took a step back towards you, his fingers intertwining with your own. Nodding at him, you started to lead him towards your bedroom, not making it more than two steps until his hands were once again exploring your body.

When you finally made it - a trail of both of your clothes left in your wake - your breaths were heavy and panting, aching for more of him.

He stood there for a moment just looking at you, taking in the red lace of your bra and underwear. Unable to contain himself, he ripped it off of you in two quick pulls, leaving you bare before him.

You expected him to jump on you the second you were naked. Instead he pressed his front against your own - you gasped at the contact of your nipples against his bare chest - and lightly traced shapes over your exposed back, moving down to trail along your legs, then back up your arms. Everywhere he touched burned the memory into your skin.

Finally, finally, he gently pushed you against your bed, your back hitting the mattress with a soft bounce, and he peeled off his jeans and underwear before manhandling you towards the center, moving your body as if you weighed nothing.

You truly didn’t need any foreplay, the tension on your own end built up these last few weeks on top of Peter’s heated discovery of your body made for an easy transition, but he wasn’t about to let that happen.

No, Peter Parker was a fucking tease.

He started by kneading the soft skin of your breasts, touch light and gentle as if you were something precious. Even when he leaned down to take one of your nipples in his mouth, he still only gave you quick nips, nothing as satisfying as you needed. He made his way down your body, placing lover’s kisses everywhere he could reach, before finally settling down on his stomach between your legs.

You thought that this was surely the moment you would get some reprieve, some kind of real touch that may or may not send you over the edge, but no. He wasn’t done with you yet.

He kissed the inside of each thigh, alternating until he was breathing right where you needed him most. When you thought you were about to explode, he finally lowered his mouth to your core.

The feeling after so long of teasing was euphoric, and you swear if you were a weaker woman you could have come from the first swipe of his tongue against your clit. You held out as his tongue made its way in circles and figure eights, then he pressed a finger against your entrance, eyes looking up through dark lashes to silently ask permission.

Once you had given it, he sank a finger into you, pumping it a few times before adding another. With that, both his hand and mouth picked up speed until you were grinding on his face, chasing your orgasm.

You were on the edge, ready to jump off, when he pulled back. You whined at the loss of contact and tried to sit up, but one large hand pushed you back against the bed, the other starting its assault all over again.

This time, he didn’t stop until you were coming all over his face, and you think you blacked out for a second because the next thing you knew he was over top of you, not even bothering to wipe his mouth before kissing you, driving his tongue in and swallowing down your moans.

He ground his hips against you, his cock sliding easily through your folds, and you both whined as his tip caught at your entrance. He continued his movements, getting closer and closer to fucking you with every pass, but never quite committing.

Sick of his teasing, you pushed hard on his shoulders and, in his surprise, were able to flip him so he was on his back.

“Stop teasing, Peter,” you whispered in his ear as you straddled his waist. “I need you.”

You pulled back, eyes searching his, before he nodded and wrapped his hands around your hips. Taking that as permission, you grabbed his cock, lining it up and slowly sliding down.

He was big, much bigger than you had anticipated, and you had to take your time before he was fully seated inside you. Once your hips were flush together, you took a breath, practically feeling him in your throat. 

He looked up at you - almost adoringly - as you adjusted to him. You leaned down, pressing your chest against his, and kissed him gently, pouring every ounce of emotion you possibly could into it before starting to move your hips. Now more adjusted, the burn of the stretch turned into a pleasure that had you melting against him and hands guided your hips to move you along his length.

For long minutes you let him move you as he wanted, content to hang on for the ride. You didn’t expect for Peter to flip you over and start pounding into you.

“Fuck,” you gasped out as he settled your legs over your shoulders. “So fucking deep.”

All you could do is hold onto him as he fucked you, alternating between hard thrusts and slow grinds until you were dizzy with pleasure, chasing an orgasm that wasn’t going to come unless Peter damn well wanted it to.

And when he did, when he reached down and rubbed harsh circles into your clit, you exploded around him. The clench of your heat around his cock spurred his own orgasm, and he pulled out at the last second, his come coating your stomach and tits.

That on is own was hot enough, but Peter fucking Parker did not come to play. He swiped two fingers through his own release before pressing them to your mouth. You opened up for him, cleaning off his fingers as he groaned, and you could see his cock give an interested twitch, like it was already trying to go for round two.

The weight of his body disappeared from yours and you whined, reaching out for him even with your eyes closed. He quickly returned with a warm rag and cleaned you up before maneuvering you both under the covers. 

Regaining a semblance of strength, you turned so that you were facing him, suddenly very aware of each of your nakedness.

“What now?” Your voice was hoarse-sounding, it’s only use in the last bit from moans and gasps.

“Well,” he started, once again tracing shapes along your bare skin, “I think we maybe skipped a step in the middle of all this.”

“What do you mean?” If he was going to say what you thought he might, your heart would implode.

“I mean, I’ve liked you for a really long time, longer than I’m going to admit, and I took this chance because I didn’t know if I would ever get it again. But if I’m right - and I think I am - then you feel the same way I do. So, I want to take you on a proper date. I want to make this work.”

His confession made your heart stutter-step and you couldn’t even find the words to tell him yes, yes, a thousand times yes. Instead, you pulled him in for a soft kiss, hoping every emotion he had just poured out to you was matched in the press of your lips against his.

“I’m taking that as a yes, then.”

“Yeah, Pete, it is.”