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ressonancee · 4 months

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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.”

#Yoon Jeonghan fic #Yoon Jeonghan fanfic #Yoon Jeonghan imagines #Yoon Jeonghan smut #Jeonghan fic #Jeonghan fanfic #Jeonghan imagines #Jeonghan smut #Seventeen fanfic #Seventeen fic #Seventeen imagines #Seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #svt fic #svt fanfic #svt smut #svt imagines #t: writting #t: yoon jeonghan

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pedge-page · 2 months

Note

What about Joel having to spend a night away for work last minute and reader sulking about it when he gets home and blanking him? 🤣 Cue grovelling from Joel lol

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Late From Work

Notes: I must be too yeehaw American because I had to look up what "blanking" someone meant 😂. Anyway, I had so much fun writing this! Decided to make him late rather than spending a whole night away because lets be real, she'd be serving divorce papers for that.

Warnings: brief oral (f receiving) scene; jealous!Reader, Stubborn reader is BACK

18+ ONLY:

- - - -

He knows he fucked up too. Big time.

When he said he’d be home at the latest by 7:00pm and it’s now 7:02 and he’s just getting in the truck leaving the site. And when his call goes to voicemail for the 3rd time, and then the fourth time tells him that the number is no longer valid (he’s been blocked), he knows he’s in Big-Fucking-Trouble.

Doesn’t want to call Tommy up for help to coax partially because he wants to fix this own his own, and partially to save Tommy from your wrath you most certainly will take out on him rather than your absent husband.

He grabbed a bouquet of flowers at the grocery store (he’s already in the doghouse so what’s another 5 minutes added to his sentence) and is currently speeding home, a solid 15mph over the limit. Tonight isn’t even anything special: you had both just come back from a lovely weekend trip on the coast and were just settling back in to your house. But when Joel doesn’t deliver on his word, isn’t home for pizza and Pepsi, and sitting behind you while rubbings your back and belly for a quiet movie night…

Well, he’s never been late since the start of your pregnancy. Doesn’t want to think what hellfire you’re going to spit at him the moment he walks in that door.

So here he is about to walk in that door. He takes a big breath, not feeling this anxious since the he proposed to you, and steps in.

He immediately makes contact with you: standing at the end of the hall, illuminated by the kitchen light with your extra extra large T shirt stretched over your belly and dangling loosely around your thighs, hands by your side, barefoot, despite how often he nags at you to wear socks around the house so your feet don’t get cold. He’s thankful to see you hadn’t packed a suitcase, trying to leave the house with a “my husband doesn’t love me” stunt again.

You clearly had just been walking past when you heard the door, not even fully turning to him but just having your head directed to the entrance the second he walked in. You briefly note the flowers in his hands before your eyes quickly go back to his. He feints an apologetic smile, heart beating so hard. You’re soooo quiet. The calm before the storm.

He gulps hard.

Instead, you turn forward once more and continue walking towards the living room without a word.

You have a hand on your back as you gently collapse onto the couch.

“Baby,” he says meekly, voice all tiny yet determined.

You pull your legs up over a pillow and fold open your book.

He comes to kneel beside you, immediately kissing your shoulder.

You do nothing.

“Baby,” he says more clearly. “I’m sorry, honey. I couldn’t beat the time.”

You flip a page, tilting your head to read the fascinating text on the page rather than listen to your poor husband on his knees for you.

His fights with the sleeve of your shirt. Would you at least look at him? He’s holding the flowers still in his hand, big puppy dog eyes trying their best to plea with you, and with his irresistible pouty lips that get him just about anything he wanted from you. But you only lend him a sigh, flipping yet another page.

So it’s gonna be like that.

"Please, angel. I was tryin' so hard to leave on time like I said. They got the concrete all mixed up and it needed to be set today, was tryin' to get out of there, just couldn't get it moving fast enough, I'm sorry baby I really sped over here fast I can to see ya, couldn't wait a second longer—"

“Oh!” You gasp suddenly.

He’s started, but nonetheless quick to be by you.

You check the clock on the wall and laugh. Time had gotten away from you too. You slam your book and hoist yourself up, on the other end of the couch to avoid his anxious hands fluttering to your aid. You brush past him and start your climb up the stairs.

Joel is right behind you, a bit of hope stirring in him. Its not until you’re walking through your bedroom door—and slamming it right in his face that he gets the message loud and clear.

Perhaps he earned a night on the couch to pray your forgiveness. After finding a suitable vase for the roses, he puffs up his pillow, his back killing him (though he’d never say it aloud while you’re waddling around with a whole 'nother being in your belly for the last few months) and crashes down on the sofa.

He just makes out the light go off under the door in the bedroom before he too is closing his eyes.

Tomorrow brings a new day, and he’s gonna spend every second satisfying his wife. He’s deserves his stay on the couch tonight.

He did NOT deserve this bullshit.

It’s been 3 fucking days since he came home late.

3 days of waking up early, trying to kiss his beautiful wife and baby momma with sweet affirmations and praises, which you dodge and continue about your stubborn ignoring-test. He spent all morning cooking every single food you’d craved since your pregnancy started—waffles, French toast, cinnamon pancakes, toast with special mixed fruit jam you can only get at a grocery store an hour away, scrambled, over easy, poached, hard boiled eggs. All arranged so beautifully on the table, even going as far to put the napkins on the left, after you screeched at him a few months ago for haphazardly having them on either the right or left, and never with the fork consistently on top.

He thought he’d learned his lesson, thought he made more than enough up to you, but no. You breeze right by, making a cup of tea, and go back upstairs to your closed door.

Your sadistic mind had given him false hope when you hadn’t locked the door on him on night number two. He slept in his bed, but you had made a clear parry by slotting between the two of you the infernal pregnancy pillow that Joel had kept in storage since you “Much preferred your husband’s plushy belly and soothing rubs.”

Fat chance tonight.

Every minute he wasn’t telling you how beautiful you are, how amazing you are, how lucky he is, he spends groveling with please forgive me, I’m so sorry, I’m such a worm.

None of it sways you any differently.

By day 4, he’s given up the sweet talk and grand gestures. Goes for a “think like her” kind of mental approach.

He tries to bribe you—either making you a Pepsi float, or even bringing home the famous Hot Fudge Cookie Dough Chocolate Gooey Fantasy Milkshake with EXTRA Rainbow sprinkles. But even as he temptingly waves in front of your little wiggly nose, you don’t acknowledge him.

He makes a big show to sigh heavily in defeat, leaving it on the kitchen table alone and trotting helplessly upstairs for a shower.

Less than 7 minutes later he’s come back down to see if you’d given in yet, maybe even telling him what a fantastic husband he is while shoveling your face with ice cream and admitting you were being dramatic.

Instead, you’re still sitting on the couch, exactly as he left you. Of course, the milkshake cup is completely empty, sucked clean of its gooeyness, and there’s a little splotch of chocolate sauce lingering on your chin you had failed to wipe clean.

A start, he thinks.

Still though, you don’t pay him any mind, scrolling on your phone with tight lips.

He wonders how long you could go on with this game.

It’s honestly a fucking terrible miracle—not even since before you were pregnant had you gone this long shutting the fuck up. But now its horrifyingly eerie, like a curse has fallen upon him and he’s doing everything he can to break it, to bring back your nagging and bitching and whining and crying because it would be so much more relaxing than this new kind of psychotic hell you’ve subjected him to.

He starts getting a little more involved: playing with your body, touching you softly with gentle strokes along your thighs and belly. You hadn’t flinched away, or tried moving to another spot on the couch.

Which confirmed one thing to him: your horniness and lack of physical attention from your husband due to your stubborn mind was losing your mental battle to hold out against him.

So Joel doesn’t say anything either as he moves his lips over your breasts, down your swollen belly and kissing his babygirl in your bump. He mumbles, “Mommy is awfully mad at Daddy, think I can cheer her up?”

The baby kicks as if in agreement. His gaze glances up briefly to see if you’re listening.

Your eyes catch and yours quickly dart away, leaning back and pretending to yawn. He snickers before continuing his hot trail of open mouthed kisses until your legs “shift” and “accidentally” part on their own.

He makes sweet, insatiable yet slow love to your pussy, licking a fat strip from your little clenched hole to that hot delicious center that is beyond wet for him—yet another example of how much your body clearly can’t ignore him forever.

But, ever as he brings you to a long needed orgasm, you bite your tongue, absolutely refusing to give him even the slightest sound of satisfaction despite clenching tightly around his thick digits pumping into you. Only letting out a strangled breath through your nose while you stare up to the ceiling, fingers folded across your tummy as if bored.

He wipes away the slick from his mustache. Hell, even he can admit you deserve an applaud for making it through that without uttering a peep to his skills.

Hurts like hell on the inside though that you’re just that mad still.

He had hoped that being forced to drive with him due to your size preventing you from sitting behind the wheel would corner you into talking him, but even then, as he opens the passenger door for you, you climb aboard and slam the door shut without his assistance.

Now the two of you are on your way to yours and Maria’s weekend brunch. Tommy was also coming to drop his girlfriend off, so it would be a good time to catch him up on this unqiuely-pregnant-you madness.

You snatch your purse and hop out of the car, mood going a full 180 and instantly greeting Maria with a warm hug and perky voice. The two of you sit down at a little table way aways from your idiot husband and brother in law.

Tommy nods him over to the bar and Joel grumbles over.

“She ignoring you?” His little brother asks while shelling peanuts.

“Is it that obvious?” Joel shakes his head. He can’t even leave off with Tommy because he knows you won’t answer his texts asking what time you’re done for pickup. So he’s stuck here to wait for you the entire time.

“You try going down on—“

“Yes! Yes I fucking tried.”

“She didn’t like it?”

“Oh no, she came hard. Wouldn’t even whimper for me when she was clenching her little cunt around my fingers—” he says with an aggressive whisper, his pointer and middle fingers shooting up in the air with wild eyes demonstrating the scene, “—and her little numb twitchin’ on my tongue. Didn’t even fucking moan. She’s a stubborn girl but I don’t deserve that.”

Tommy shakes his head with a chuckle. “Damn. That’s just determination right there. Gotta give it to her.”

Tommy excuses himself with a slap to the shoulder, muttering “gotta take a leak” and disappears to the bathroom.

Joel wouldn’t mind having a drink right now, but know’s he’s gotta stay sober to drive you home. A miserable, silent filled drive once again. He glanced at his watch, following each tick of the hand.

“Hi there.”

Joel almost didn’t address the voice of the woman who had gentle snuck up behind him, moving to take Tommy’s seat. She’s probably a little younger than you, a nice kind smile, inviting and warm towards a stranger.

Joel politely smiles back with a little nod.

She offers a sweet “thanks”, a blush creeping on her cheeks before she begins to speak: “Listen, I don’t mean to prude… but I saw you come in and ...I’m usually not so brash—but I was wondering…”

Meanwhile, your baby is beat boxing extra hard today in your stomach. You can’t even focus on eating your salad and keeping up with Maria’s chatter about Tommy’s nose hairs all over the vanity.

Your baby is smart. She knows something is up. You narrow your eyes and look around, finding Joel and company at the bar—

Except the company he is keeping is NOT Tommy but instead, a gorgeous woman tossing her hair and flashing her pearly white teeth off at your husband, who’s giving her his full attention. She’s giggling with him, taking animatedly with her hands, lingering heavy eye contact and touching his watch as if looking for an excuse to get closer.

You forget about the massive planet sized lump in your belly as you instantly stand up, nearly tipping the table and all its dishes and cutlery over.

Maria is calling your name but you don’t have the mind to answer, striding over like a bull towards the bar.

“Hiiiiiiii!”

Joel and the woman both jump at the harsh shrill of an annoying, high pitched, slightly perturbed but faking a smile, voice screeching behind them—the most beautiful voice Joel’s ever heard…and had missed so dearly this week.

The woman looks over to you, seemingly startled that you had interrupted the conversation so brazenly.

“Oh, um, hi,” she offers, blinking off your pregnant belly and abrupt appearance.

“This is Joel,” you boast, pointing the shlump of a man in front of her.

“Ah-Hello—“ she smiles again to him.

You add quickly. “He’s my husband.”

“Oh.”

“And I’m his wife.”

“Ah—I—“

“Annnnnnnnd this is our baby!” You boast, proudly rubbing over that enormous swell of your tumtum so she can see in case it wasn’t the biggest fucking thing in this room. “And… you are?” You ask sweetly.

“Um…” she takes one last glance at Joel, his apologetic shrug saying everything then at you, your hard gaze burning holes into her head. “…leaving,” she says towards you.

“Great answer. I like you :) Bye Bye now!” You wave enthusiastically with a chipper voice and a deadly smile. She nods fretfully and pops off the stool, walking away like a threatened animal.

He just chuckles, shaking his head and looking down at his hands with a grin. “Ya know, she just came over to ask where I got my watch.”

“And did you tell her your WIFE bought it?” You ask, poking your finger at his chest.

He has to hide his crooked smile. It’s the first time you’ve directly spoken to him since Monday. “Yeah, I did. She asked where ya got it, because she was looking for one just like it—for her husband.”

Your finger fidgets slightly, expression drawing a blank at the revelation turning over in your mind.

“……………………………………………....................................oh.”

He rotates his stool to face you. You’re steeping in your thoughts, the confidence faltering just slightly in your mind at the realization of how grossly you had interpreted the situation between that innocent woman and your hubby. He didn’t even care, though. All he could think about was how his heart feels 10x lighter seeing you back in your usual, bold, daring, audacious self. All of your attention on him once again.

“I’ll admit, still felt good havin’ ya come to my rescue.”

You scoff, near offended by his words. “Well duh, you’re mine.”

“That right? Even these last few days?”

Yet another bomb goes off in your head at the second realization—that you had forfeited your punishment to ignore him to the ends of the earth.

You cross your arms defensively anyway. “Well... I…decided.”

“Mmm?”

“That…I needed a back rub. But you clearly you can’t pick up on that on your own so—now I have to verbally tell you.”

“Ah huh. Sure it wasn’t cuz you were jealous? Couldn’t stand me being interested in another woman since my own made it clear she didn’t want me no more? Because my wife decided she couldn’t be patient and wait the extra 13 minutes I was running late before punishin’ me all goddamn week?”

Oh wait—was he really only late by 13 minutes? You could have sworn it was an hour plus!

“That wasn’t 13 minutes! Do you know how to tell time? It was over an hour—“

“Did you set your clock back like I told you to the night before when we got back from the coast, into our own time zone?”

😳

- - - -

Also this is how I see reader getting ate out but trying to be nonchalaunt about it:

conveniently also my favorite shot of Pedro during a photoshoot

Permanent taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrs-oharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee

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buckys-wintersoldier · 2 months

Text

Another kind of heating | Bucky Barnes

Pairing -> Switch!Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Switch!Girlfriend!Reader

Summary -> You just want to warm your feet but this leads into a way hotter situation with your boyfriend.

Wordcount -> 2.6k

Warnings -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, Smut, teasing, mention of mommy kink but just teasing, fingering (fem!receiving), squirting unprotected p in v, multiple orgasm, his hand around readers throat

A/N -> I want to thank @imtryingbuck. First of all thank you for writing the first part of the Oneshot, but as well thank you for listenting helping to come up with that idea. I love youuu. Divider made by @firefly-graphics.

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

The heavy raindrops beat surprisingly gently off the window as you and Bucky curled up together on the couch, watching as the scene on the screen unfolded in front of you.

Despite having the heating on, and that you were in between the ends of the couch and Bucky, and also having the fluffy beige blanket that Wanda had brought you for your birthday, you were still feeling cold. Especially your feet.

Bucky mumbled softly, telling you to stop moving, but you just couldn’t find a comfortable position to sit and find the warmth you were so desperately trying to get. After moving too much, Bucky pulled your legs over his lap, his left hand going to your thigh, his metal thumb moving up and down slowly, and his right hand doing the same against your left calf.

It helped. A little.

Your feet were still so cold, and you were pretty sure that you couldn’t feel them anymore. And that’s when a brilliant idea popped into your head. Shifting once again, you sighed happily.

"Ahh, baby, your feet!” Bucky’s screech would have made you laugh if it weren’t from the fact that your feet were already warming up.

“What do you mean?” Asking in the most innocent voice you could muster.

“They’re freezing!”

“I know”

“And you’ve put them on my dick.”

“And they’re getting warmer now.”

In turn, your boyfriend of three years sent you a glare that to others would have them backing off, but you knew that he could never do you any harm or ever be mad at you, just like the time you were bored and started putting magnets on his left arm just to see if they would stick to the prosthetic limb - they do, by the way. He sent you the same glare that day too, before letting you carry on entertaining yourself. “Fine, now carry on watching the film.”

“Love you, Buck.”

“Love you too, baby.”

Finally warm and cozy watching the movie play, you found yourself getting turned on by the slow movements of Bucky’s fingers creating invisible drawings on your leg.

"Baby,” his tone was warning you not to carry on with the movements that you were doing, but did you? No.

“What? Buck I’m not doing anything.”

“Your-ah, baby”

“What Bucky?”

“Princess-“ the nickname, ignited the urge to carry on your actions happening under the blanket. “stop.”

“Stop what, Bucky?”

“Y-you're making me hard.”

“With my toes? I’m just wiggling my toes, Buck.”

"Yeah, on my cock.”

“You’re silly; let’s keep watching the fi-“

"Baby, my cock's hard now.”

“Sounds like a you problem, not a me problem.”

“Baby… please”

You smirked when you saw the way he shifted, his fingers digging into the soft skin of your leg.

“You sound like a little puppy, baby,” you teased.

He groaned, unsure if it turned him on or if he just wanted to show you that he wasn’t the puppy you thought he was. Bucky guided one of his hands until he reached your ankles and gripped them, pushing them apart so he could sit between them. And he did; he moved so his knees holding your legs spread apart and towered over you; his hands were on both sides of your body.

“You’re such a tease, doll,” he groaned, his lips crashing on yours, and the little puppy with his soft blue eyes turned immediately into a hungry predator, which had pounced itself on its prey.

He lowered his kisses down your jawline until he reached your neck and bit into your skin. Bucky smiled when soft moans left your lips because of the slight pain and the pleasure he caused with his bites. His hand slid down, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your sweatpants, and he pulled them together with your panties down.

“Someone’s really needy, huh?” you grinned and ran your fingers through his soft brown hair.

Bucky chuckled before his hand moved up your inner thigh until he reached your already throbbing pussy. His lips formed into a smile when his fingertips touched your wetness, slowly making their way through your folds until he reached your entrance. His fingers leaked with your arousal when he lifted them slightly to look at them.

“Who is the needy one, doll?”

“I’m not the one with a hard member because his girlfriend warmed her feet on her boyfriend's crotch.”

“But I didn’t do anything yet, which caused MY pussy to be wet like that,” he said, empathizing the: ‘my pussy’ to make it clear it’s his and only his.

“Yours? Prove it, baby boy. Show me what’s yours.”

And he did as you told him. Bucky pushed two fingers inside of you, not giving you time to adjust to them; he pushed them deep inside of your tight, clenching walls. You moaned and gripped his hair; you tried to ground yourself while he thrusted them, enchanted by the scene in front of him in and out of you. He loved the sound that is constantly leaving your lips when he hits your sweet spot. He could look at you the whole day, as long as you made those delicious sounds. Then he lowered his head, kissing your thighs before he made his way to your cunt. His tongue licked through your wet folds. You clenched around his fingers, and Bucky groaned in response, imagining how much you would tighten around his dick; you would squeeze him until he came, and you would have to take everything he would give you.

“Bucky, please. It feels so good.”

“Don’t dare to cum before I allow you to cum. I want to hear that you're mine and that this pussy belongs to me. Say it. Scream it and then cum,” he said, turned on by the surprised expression on your face.

Bucky was always possessive around you, especially during sex, but he never wanted you to scream those words. He loved when you told him you’re his, but this turned you on beyond belief. He moved his fingers at a brutal pace inside of you, curled his fingers, and hit your sweet spot a few more times while his tongue joined his fingers inside of you.

“Fuck-“ you mumbled, throwing your head back.

Bucky groaned. He felt your walls tightening around his fingers and your wetness growing, while his rock-hard cock pressed against the fabric of his pants. He chuckled softly when you pushed yourself more against him. His tongue and his fingers felt so good that you felt like you couldn’t hold your orgasm back. The knot in your stomach grew, and Bucky knew; he slowed his fingers down and let go of you.

“Bucky- please.”

“Cum, all over my fingers,” he told you.

He curled his fingers, hitting your sweet spot again, and made you cum all over his fingers. You moaned and arched your back while he moved his fingers, still in and out of you.

“Bucky- so-so sensitive,” you whimpered.

“I know, but give me one more, and then I will give you what you really want, oke?”

With a nod, you threw your head back into the pillow, arched your back even more, and met his fingers. They were so deep inside of you, hitting all the right places, and you felt the growing pleasure in your stomach again. His thick fingers moved slowly, but you felt every tiny bit of them. Your walls squeezed them perfectly, and Bucky couldn't wait to shove his dick inside of your tight, warm, and clenching hole.

“Mhm, so close again. Huh, doll?” Bucky teased you; his thumb rubbed small circles over your clit.

Your own loud moan interrupted yourself before you told him that you’re so close. So close that it just needed a few more strokes of his fingers against your walls, and you would cum a second time over his fingers.

Your fingers dig into the fabric of the couch, grounding yourself. Bucky smiled mischievously while he looked at you, then back down on his fingers. He loved the view of his fingers disappearing inside of you. The sounds they made whenever he pushed them back into your wetness. His fingers were covered in your arousal. Bucky lowered his head and kissed your clit before he dipped his tongue back inside of you with his fingers.

The combination of his tongue and fingers and your already growing feeling in your lower stomach were enough to made you come again. You screamed his name, almost shattering walls, when he curled his fingers and made you squirt while he hit your sweet spot over and over again. Bucky smirked, knowing that the neighbors could hear you screaming out his name while the waves of pleasure were rushing through your body.

“I need you inside of me, Bucky,” you whimpered.

“I’m inside of you. Don’t you feel my fingers inside of you?”

You groaned frustratedly. Bucky knew that you wanted his dick buried in your tight pussy, but the way you looked at him with your big eyes, trying to ask him for his dick but being too shy to ask him for it.

“Bucky-“

“Come one, doll. Tell me what you want.”

He pulled back and smirked at you and your flushed face, slowly taking off his belt to undo his jeans. He teased you by pulling his jeans and boxers down, revealing his hard shaft. You decided to tease him too by taking off your shirt and bra slower than he would have liked.

“Do you need my help, baby?”

“Be a good one and take your hands away; take off your clothes completely,” you demanded with a raised eyebrow.

Bucky rolled his eyes playfully but did what he was told. He removed the clothes from his body before he was kneeling between your legs again. Your shirt and bra are placed on Bucky’s clothes. He licked his lips and grabbed his cock, sliding the tip of it through your wet folds.

“What do you want me to do, doll?”

“Your dick, inside of me.”

He grinned, gripped your waist, and turned you in one movement around so you’re on your hands and knees in front of him. He then lined himself up, groaning softly when his sensitive tip brushed along your folds. His dick, now covered in your arousal, slowly entered you and was greeted by a welcoming squeeze of your walls, pulling him deeper inside of you. You both groaned, his fingers digging into the soft skin of your hips.

"Fuck, you always feel so perfect, so fucking tight for me,” he mumbled, letting you adjust to his huge size.

Bucky slowly started to thrust inside of you. He pulled his dick almost completely out of you before he pushed himself back inside. His lower stomach pressed against your ass when his dick was buried deep inside of you. You moaned, walls clenching around his dick, but you wanted more. You wanted him to be rough, not soft and careful; you wanted Bucky to fuck you, not to make love to you.

“You’re doing so well for me, baby boy. Such a sweet and shy little one for me, huh?” you teased him with a smirk.

“Don’t push the limits, doll.”

“Buck, you can be honest that you’re such a little subby baby for me. You thrust so softly and shyly inside of me; it’s ok; mommy takes care of you when your dick is sensitive.”

“I’m only soft because I love you. But you know I can be rough,” he said, pushing his dick harsher inside of you.

“Prove it, baby boy. Show mommy that you can fuck her and not just make love to her.”

Bucky groaned, a smirk formed on his lips, and his grip tightened. He then pulled out of you, slamming his dick back inside of you and making you moan loudly. You arched your back and pressed yourself more against him, while his balls always met your pussy. Bucky speeds up a bit more, fucking you senseless while your walls squeeze him, and he tries not to cum immediately.

“B-Bu-. F-uck,” you whimpered.

“Can’t even use your words anymore? Already fucked dumb, doll? Did I fuck you so well that everything in your mind is my dick inside your tight hole?”

He loved teasing you, the way you gripped the fabric of the couch or the way you pressed yourself more against him, quietly asking him for more. Bucky slid his metal hand along your back until he reached your neck. He then wrapped it around your throat, making you gasp. The cold of his metal hand lets you shiver, but at the same time, it’s cooling the heat of your skin softly. He pulled you with his hand around your throat, your back pressed against his muscular chest. He didn’t squeeze his hand; he was just holding it there because he knew how much you loved it. The new angle made it possible for him to thrust deeper inside of you; you both moaned loudly whenever he hit your sweet spot and made you clench your walls around his huge dick. Your pussy was still so sensitive because of the orgasm before that you felt every little bit, every vein of his cock stroked along your walls.

“Bucky- I’m s-so close.”

“Hold it. You’re so perfectly warm and tight.”

“Bu-“

You squeezed around him again, more than before, making him gasp.

“Fuck- Baby. Continue this, and I need to cum too,” he says, pushing your back more against him.

His hot breath met your neck; he kissed your shoulder and jawline before he pulled out of you.

“I- urgh,” you gasp, then try to complain that you were so close and he just pulled out of you. You got interrupted when he turned you around.

“Shhh, I wanna look at your beautiful face when you scream my name, doll,” he said with a chuckle, kissing your lips softly.

When he gripped your hips again, he pushed himself inside of you, groaning when he immediately hit your sweet spot. Bucky fucks you like an animal in need, exactly what you wanted and you’re just a few more thrusts away from your orgasm.

“Don’t dare to stay quiet when you cum, I want to hear you.”

You nodded. Bucky's metal fingers found their way along your lower stomach and through your folds until he reached your clit. You yelped when the cold met your warm skin. He rubbed circles over your clit, you arched your back, throwing your head back, and your hand wrapped around his arm to ground yourself. Your nails dug into the metal, while the pleasure inside of you grew until you came. You screamed his name; walls were clenching and squeezing his dick.

“Mhm- can I cum? Please. Can I?” Bucky asked, chasing his own orgasm.

You placed your hand on his cheek, and your thumb stroked over his lips when you nodded.

“Cum, baby boy. You did so well,” you teased, but Bucky was too deep in his own release and pleasure that he didn’t say anything about you telling him he was a submissive little one.

When you nodded, his thrusts became sloppier, and Bucky came just a few thrusts after you. His seed painted your walls, and the two of you moaned softly about the feeling while he slowed his thrusts.

“I love when you scream my name like that, doll,” he admitted, kissing your lips softly.

“I love when you get turned on just because I warm my feet on your dick.”

“No- you moved your toes. You kinda messaged my dick, and you were needy because of me stroking your leg.”

You groaned, frustrated, but nodded. He was right; he turned you on beyond belief just because he stroked your thigh. But who blamed you when you had such a good-looking and lovely boyfriend? Every girl would be needy when he just touched them.

Taglist: @nicoline1998enilocin @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @sergeantbarnessdoll @kandis-mom @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry

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lqveharrington · 17 days

Text

Behind the Scenes | V.

summary: Being Vox’s girlfriend requires some patience after twelve hour work days.

pairing: Vox x fem!reader

includes: Vox and Velvette bullying one another, VALENTINO BEING A MENACE, mentions of Angel’s job, drinking, fluff, yelling, Vox being a baby, cursing, implications of being a prostitute, suggestiveness, both of them being teases (that’s it, let me know if i missed any!)

a/n: i think writing hazbin fics is my stress outlet 😭

You were Vox’s. And Vox was yours. Every demon and sinner in Pride Ring knew due to Vox taking time out of his busy work day to shower you with compliments in every press interview or host show when you were brought up. Especially when Vox would be the first one to find you after you finished modeling for Velvette’s show, making sure the paparazzi had photos of him praising you with kisses and soft touches.

Of course, you reciprocated every moment… In the public eye. Behind the cameras and screens, Vox was very much loving. But he did work for almost twelve hours each day, which required patience from you whenever he came home to you in a sour mood.

“Do you need me for anything else, Vel?” You glance back at your phone as you pour red wine into your glass.

“No,” She scribbled down measurement adjustments for another model’s design, looking back up at her screen after hearing an electrical shock from your side of the phone. “But do tell your boy toy that you have a dress rehearsal early tomorrow morning, and that you have to be there on time.”

Vox wrapped his arm around your waist, glaring at the young overlord through your phone. “Fuck off, Velvette.”

You feel him resting his head against your shoulder as he presses soft kisses on your neck, your dead heart fluttering. “I’ll be there on time.”

“Good.” She rolled her eyes at your boyfriend’s actions before ending the call.

“What’s your damage today, handsome?” You ask before sipping on your drink, red lipstick staining the clear glass. You watch as he mutters something incoherent, static emitting from his hat. “Vox, talk to me.”

“That bitch Carmilla won’t meet up, and it’s been several days since our last update on Vox technology.” He sighs as he moves around you, his voice crackling with electricity. “Shareholders have been up my fucking ass all morning about it— Valentino keeps trying to get me to watch his stupid porn feels featuring Angel.”

He removes his suit jacket as he complains, walking toward the large living space including a minibar. Vox pulls at his tie and reaches for the whiskey underneath, “Now Velvette wants to be an ass and complain about me wanting to spend time with you—“

“My love,” You hand him a glass from the cabinets, letting your hand linger on his for a bit. “Vel’s my boss, and I’m her best model. She needs me for these rehearsals.”

“You’re really taking her side?” He tilts back his head and downs the drink in one go, pouring another.

You roll your eyes at his childish behavior, “I’m not taking sides, I’m pointing out a fact.” You sit on the stool by the bar, letting him slot himself between your legs. “If anything, I’m listening to you describing your day.”

“Mm.” He let one hand come down and rest on your hip, rubbing soft circles. “Tell me about your day.”

“Boring, tiring. Pretty much the same every day.” You grab his wrist to ensure he doesn’t go any lower or any higher. “According to your assistant, I do have a lot of things planned tomorrow. So that should be exhausting.”

Vox linked your hands together, “Sounds stressful.”

“Not as bad as yours every day.” You press a kiss on his palm. “I was gonna watch a movie while waiting for you, but now that you’re here—“ You shift your wine glass in your hand as he puts his own glass down, letting him trail his hands to your waist. “Want to join me?”

“Of course.” He presses a chaste kiss to your lips before trailing after you. “What movie are we watching?”

“Whatever the first thing I find.” You let Vox sit on the couch before doing the same, swinging your legs over his lap. “You need a new rotation on Voxflix, I’ve watched almost everything.”

“I’ll get on that.” He mumbled as he ran his hand up and down your leg, occasionally squeezing.

You hum and shift your gaze to the television, scrolling through the different movies. “How do we feel about—“

A ringtone filled the air, both of you freezing at the noise.

“Vox—“

“Give me a second.” He let you pull your legs away and pulled the ringing from his screen to his phone, camera-ready voice leaving his mouth.

You sigh but find a movie worth watching, pulling your knees up. Around halfway through, you decided that the movie was meretricious, heavily judging the poorly made movie more than the other ones you’ve watched. You typed your review on your phone, giving the movie two stars before—

“—THEN GET SOME LOW LIFE SINNER TO DO YOUR FUCKING JOB FOR YOU!” You heard Vox scream from the kitchen, making you wince for the poor soul on the other end. “AND IF YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE SHIT I GIVE YOU, JUST KNOW I HAVE YOUR FUCKING SOUL IN CONTRACT!”

You pause the movie and get up, taking slow steps to your hotheaded boyfriend. He shuffled across the kitchen, walking back and forth as his fans kicked on. His white shirt was unbuttoned and his sleeves were rolled up like he was going to commit a crime.

“YOU LITTLE PIECE OF—“

“Vox,” You come up from behind and wrap your arms around his chest, resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s outside of your work hours.”

“Fucking—“ He rubbed his temple as he heard the sinner go silent on the other line. Vox took one hand and laced it with yours, “You’re lucky my wife is generous you ungrateful fuck.” He ended the call before muttering more curses, turning you in his arms so you were facing his front.

You let your hands move up to his shoulders, massaging the heavy tension in them. “Am I your wife now? Is that what you’ve been telling those sinners?”

“Maybe.” He let out a loud groan from the sensation, fans still running. “The fucking bitch in accounting is—“

“You’re not working right now, stop.” You give him a pointed look. “I need you to relax.”

Vox wrapped his arms around your waist, walking you backward toward the living area once more. “God, I’m in love with you.”

“I love you too.” You chuckle as he peppers kisses on your face. You let out a noise of surprise when he pulls you into his lap, hands gripping his shoulders for support. “Vox!”

“Yes?” He pressed kisses to your exposed collarbone.

You sigh in content but grab the corners of his screen, giving him a cheeky grin. “Tomorrow, my love. Velvette will murder the both of us if I show up late with bruises.”

“I’ll pay her to let you have a day off tomorrow.” He slipped his hand up your shirt, sharp claws bringing chills to your skin.

“So now you’re paying to be with me?” You raise a brow, stifling a laugh when he stops all movements. “Am I some kind of—“

“Of course not! Do not finish that sentence.” He pushed you down on the couch, covering your mouth. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You laugh at how protective he is over you from himself. “I know you didn’t mean it like that, I was kidding.”

Vox dropped his head down to your shoulder, “You’re such a tease.”

“I’m the best.” You squeeze his bicep. “But seriously, Vel will have our heads strung outside the tower.”

“Whatever.” He flipped you both over, letting you rest your head on his chest. “I’ll have you all to myself this weekend.”

You hum, pressing a kiss on the corner of his screen. “I’m sure you do, handsome.”

“My love, I will cancel all your plans this weekend if you tell me I can’t have you.” Vox traces his finger down your spine. “Don’t tell me you have any.”

“I don’t…” You turn your head as he runs his claws through your hair. You feel yourself warm as he wraps a blanket over the both of you, flicking the television to play with a snap of his fingers.

“What do we rate the movie today?” He played with the ends of your hair, face pulling a grimace at the movie’s corny script.

“Two stars.” You mumble as your gaze shifts to the television. As the television fades to black in an awkward transition, you see Vox staring at you rather than the screen. “What are you looking at, weirdo?”

“My beautiful girlfriend.” He squeezed your hip. “Who I love very much.”

You let a small laugh slip through your lips, grinning brightly at his words. “I love you very much too, weirdo.”

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 5 months

Note

Hey could I please get #8 and #12 with coriolanus snow please? (even better if he's a little bit insane as long as he ends up happy with Y/N at the end)- thanks so much :))

-E

‘’If I ask you to kiss me, to be with me, in front of all these people, will you do it?’’ + ‘’I did this for you! Everything I’ve done has been for you!’’

I've been getting requests for Peeta, but I'm not - and will not be -writing for him. I never fell for him in the movies 🫣

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You couldn’t remember how the situation got so heated, but one moment you were laughing and having a good time inside the Hob bar and the next you and Coriolanus were yelling at each other. To add drama and theatrics to the scene, it was pouring rain.

‘’I did this for you! Everything I’ve done has been for you!’’ he shouted, his pretty eyes filled with anger.

You halted in the wet street and looked back at him, your wet hair clinging on your body. ‘’But I never asked anything from you!’’ you shot back, sick of hearing the same speech. ‘’I never asked you to come to my district and find me after the games.’’

‘’So you’d rather I did not?’’ he retorted with an arrogant edge.

You shook your head. ‘’That’s not what I said.’’

You had never smiled wider than the night you saw Coriolanus in the street with Sejanus. His blond hair was no longer, all buzzed like the other peacekeepers. His decision to bribe the commander to serve as a peacekeeper in your district was a high risk, but the happiness it brought you outweighed the danger.

His jaw tensed, raindrops rolling down his face like unshed tears. ‘’I risked everything for you! For us. Is it not enough?’’

Your frustration echoed in the relentless rain, wishing he would get why you were upset without you having to explain it to him. But he was a man. Men never understand why these small things matter, why they can be hurtful.

‘’We were having a drink with friends and you…you dropped my fucking hand! It’s like you don’t want to be seen with me. We’re not at the Capitol anymore, Coryo. We’re allowed to be together.’’

‘’Peacekeepers are not allowed to have a woman while serving. I could get in trouble if someone told about us to my commander.’’

A bitter laugh escaped you at his cowardly answer, lost in the drumming of rain on pavement. Where was the man you met in the Capitol who crossed rules left and right to get his ways?

‘’Since when are you following the laws?’’

Coriolanus stayed quiet, your question left unanswered.

You took a few steps toward him, trying to ignore how hot he looked drenched in rainwater by lowering your eyes on the buttons of his blue button-up shirt. All night inside the Hob, you had been thinking about the time you’ll go home and get to have him to yourself.

And now here you were, fighting in the street…

‘’You think these men stay celibate for their twenty years of serving?’’ you asked, pointing back to the bar. ‘’Don’t be a fool.’’

‘’It’s different for us. I was your mentor. If it gets to the Capitol’s ears that you and I found our way to each other, I will be dispatched to another district or worse, we’ll both get hu—’’

You interrupted him with a scoff. ‘’You think anyone in there is gonna snitch on us? These people have no idea who you are, besides that you are a peacekeeper. And even if they did, they don’t care. You could have a hand under my skirt under one of the tables and they wouldn’t even notice. They’re just here to listen to music and have a drink and dance.’’

Your words were a stretch, but you needed to prove your point with something that would get a reaction out of him.

Something shifted in Coriolanus’s eyes. He reached for you, grabbing your arm in a rough grip and pulling you close to him. ‘’I’d never share you with these men,’’ he growled between you, his jaw tight.

‘’If I’m yours, then show them,’’ you challenged, daring as you looked into his eyes. ‘’If I ask you to kiss me, to be with me, in front of all these people, will you do it?’’ you asked, raindrops clinging to your lashes. ‘’I’m not asking for much, Coryo,’’ you continued, your voice a mix of frustration and longing. ‘’I just want you to be with me. If you can’t give me that, then you made a mistake coming here.’’

The world seemed to pause, the only sound being the raindrops hitting the ground and turning it into mud.

Coriolanus opened his mouth to speak, igniting a small glint of hope in your eyes.

A part of him will always be scared that you’ll be separated again, but he wasn’t going to lose the love of his life because he was scared of losing you.

—

Hunger games / BOASAS taglist: @crossyourmindrights @ziggyneedsabreak @folkloreshorts @runningfrom2am @soulessien @itzfckingreal @creedsofapollo

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi @hallecarey1 @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @grxnde-dwt @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis@Shasta89 @sierraluvz @specialk6802 @CZARINERA @katherinejess

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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intrepidacious · 1 year

Text

almost believing

summary: You and Bucky aren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment. That doesn't mean you're getting out of having to pretend to be married for a mission.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 5.4k

warnings: miscommunication dialled up to eleven bc it's me; friends to lovers with lots of seething in between; set around christmas, but not a christmas fic; slight spoiler warning for wakanda forever just to be safe

please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

prompt: fake dating, baby 😌 title and initial inspiration for this fic were taken from "so close" from enchanted. yes. that scene.

a/n: this was written for my wonderful tiff's sweet as sugar writing challenge!! @traitorjoelite i'm so proud of you and i hope you enjoy this fic. i really thought this one would be short i swear. big shoutout and thank you to @sweetascanbee for listening to me rant about this for weeks, i appreciate you so much!!

masterlist | read on ao3

Here’s the thing: It’s supposed to be a simple mission. Just gathering intel at the hotel for one single night, the two of you pretending that everything is fine for a couple of hours more.

After all, it’s Bucky’s last mission with you before his reassignment goes through.

Well, it’s not like it’s going to make a difference to how much you’re seeing him, to be honest.

You’re not sure when he started making himself rare or why, but once you noticed it, it was impossible not to.

"Sorry, I’m heading out," when you ask him to grab lunch together seems inconspicuous enough, as does, "Ah, I’m already supposed to meet Sam," when you try asking him about that trip to IKEA you’d been talking about for ages.

But it doesn’t stop there. One excuse follows the next, and suddenly there’s always something more important than the two of you hanging out.

Of course, you try to rationalize it at first. Swallow down your hurt feelings, because Bucky is your friend, and sometimes people just need space. You’re fine. The two of you are fine.

Once he starts scheduling dates for Friday night, though—which has always been movie night, always, every week since you met him—you know that something’s wrong.

"Is he angry with me?" you keep asking Steve, who looks very uncomfortable and definitely knows what's going on.

"Just give him a little space," he suggests timidly. So you do. You let the whole thing go.

For like a week.

"I just don’t know what I did," you tell Sam over drinks, your head held in your hands.

"Nope," he answers, downing his dregs. "I’m not doing this. Nuh-uh."

"You know, too?" you cry, accusingly pointing at him.

"I don’t know anything," Sam deadpans. And then he puts his scarf on and leaves.

"Maybe try talking to Bucky about it?" Natasha suggests, either incapable of hiding her amused smile or unwilling to try.

"I would if I ever saw him for longer than a 'hi, how are you' at the gym," you mumble. Fact is, you’re getting pissed about him giving you the silent treatment without even knowing what you did wrong.

Because before this, whatever this is, things were fine. Great, even. Free afternoons were spent on each other’s couches, introducing him to your favorite tv shows and letting him teach you that stupid card game he loves so damn much. You’d even been starting to imagine that there might be something …

Clearly, you were wrong.

Now, you can’t even look at him without your throat closing up. It’s like you woke up a few weeks ago and he’s become an entirely different person around you, much more like he was at the beginning of your friendship, distant and cold.

He didn’t even tell you that he’d signed up for a transfer.

The mission call feels like your last chance.

A whole evening of teamwork and espionage, of him basically having no other choice than talking to you and finally telling you why the fuck he would get himself reassigned without even telling you beforehand. You could’ve hugged Fury for the opportunity.

That is, until you’re handed the file containing your fake identities for the op a few hours before you’re supposed to leave.

"You’re joking," you say as soon as you open the door.

"Great, you’re here as well," Steve says dryly. "Again, a) you both gotta learn how to knock, b) the whole thing wasn’t my idea or my decision, but I also think it’s the best directive for what you’re trying to do, and c) no, there’s no one else available for the mission. Anything I missed?"

Bucky deliberately doesn’t meet your eye, his arms still crossed as he stares Steve down with a look you can’t decipher. He doesn’t even acknowledge you standing in the door, but his foot is doing the tapping thing again.

You purse your lips and join the staring.

Steve sighs, rubbing his temples with the palms of his hands. "Listen, you two work well together and I know these past few weeks have been … strained"—you almost laugh at that—"but it’s just one night."

"We need to pretend we’re married," you say. "How’re we going to pull that off if he can’t stand being in the same room as me?"

"I trust that there won’t be any issues." Steve raises an eyebrow at Bucky as he says that, but of course he doesn’t get a reply. That would necessitate talking in your presence.

"One night," Bucky repeats through gritted teeth.

Not for the first time, there seems to be some sort of silent conversation between the two of them that you’re not privy to. You roll your eyes.

"I’ll see you later."

You leave with your back straight and without a glance over your shoulder, the door slamming shut behind you.

For a moment, you’re tempted to barge into Natasha’s office next, but you have a feeling like she’d just give you another one of her looks again, which really won’t better your mood. So instead, you slam another door and flop onto your bed, blankly staring at the ceiling for a while.

Surely, there’s some twisted sort of irony in this whole situation, but you’re not laughing.

Usually, before a mission, you’d get bagels together from the bakery around the corner. You haven’t done that in a while, but you’re still quietly begging your phone to show a new unread message when you look at the time however long later.

Instead, there’s just your lockscreen picture of Bucky’s grinning face that you can’t bear to get rid off, no matter how many times it stings you. It’s almost a year old, now, back when you’d taken him to go do your holiday shopping with you, insisting that "no one’s gonna recognize you, look at that great cap you’re wearing".

It’d started snowing halfway through the afternoon, and he’d kept reaching for your hand in order not to lose you in the crowd. You both gave up halfway through your list and just went to get coffee instead, strolling through Central Park and talking about nothing and everything.

That’s when you’d realized you'd been falling in love with him, laughing and fingers freezing around your paper cup, a strange new warmth spreading throughout your body.

You need to change your lockscreen.

***

Half an hour before pick-up, you leave your room with a duffle bag slung over your shoulder and almost run into Bucky. He’s leaning against the opposite wall like he’s been waiting for you, and it stings because that’s what he always used to do, back when you were still talking. When you could still pretend that maybe, just maybe, your feelings weren’t quite so hopeless.

Now, though, his easy smile is missing. Instead, an ever-present frown is furrowing his brows again, his mouth opened just a little, but nothing comes out.

"Look, I don’t want to do this any more than you do," you sigh. "But it’s a two-person job."

He nods, his tongue poking his cheek. "I know."

"Do you think you’re gonna be alright with us pretending we’re madly in love for a whole evening?"

Bucky’s jaw tightens. "I’ll be fine."

Of course he’s going to be fine.

You grab the strap of your bag more tightly. "I wish you would just tell me what I did."

"You didn’t do anything." If he’s telling the truth, though, why does he look so numb?

For a moment, you want to shout at him, cry, beg, make him tell you when and how this went wrong, but you don’t. You just stare at him in silence, hoping he’ll get it anyway, and he refuses to notice it.

"So," Bucky finally says. "You ready to get hitched?"

There’s the ghost of a grin in his eyes, and even though it’s not enough to mask the uncomfortable tilt of his shoulders, you sigh. At least he’s trying, you suppose.

"Let’s just get fake-married so we can fake-divorce and go our separate ways," you say, walking past him.

"I’ve got something for you."

You turn around again, raising your eyebrows as he holds up a ring between the fingers of his left hand. There’s a giant stone set in its center, striking and sparkling and not subtle in the slightest. Tony really went all out for appearance’s sake. Your fingers involuntarily tighten around the strap of your bag.

Bucky drops the ring in the palm of your hand.

"Quite the present," you chuckle nervously. You don’t even want to know how much this thing costs, and you feel like they're going to chop off your head if something happens to it.

"Try it on, then."

It’s a bit too large on your finger, and it feels foreign. It’s not you at all. Then again, it’s not supposed to be you.

Before you can say anything, though, Bucky shakes his head. "What?" you say with a roll of your eyes.

"That couldn’t look more fake if you tried. Wait a sec."

He turns his back towards you and rummages through his bag for a while, his jaw still set as he holds out his hand once more. With a sigh, you pull the ring off again and return it, but before you can pull your hand back, he catches it in his own.

This one slides onto your finger perfectly, and your eyes widen at the sight of it. It’s a lot subtler, with only a small emerald for decoration, but it’s so delicate and beautiful it takes your breath away.

Bucky’s mouth opens and closes, but he swallows whatever came to his mind. "That’s better," he says instead, and his voice sounds oddly rough.

"They gave you a backup?" you say, angling your hand this way and that to see how the gem catches the light.

"Mhm."

Something is off about this whole situation, but then you feel like you don’t really know Bucky anymore. Not like you used to, anyway. It used to be so easy to get a read on him.

You stand there in silence for a moment, and it’s only then that both of you realize he’s still holding your hand. He drops it immediately, and you pretend it doesn’t sting.

"How come you don’t get a ring?" you ask.

"Says who?" Bucky says, clearing his throat and activating the camouflage sleeve Tony had installed for his arm. Sure enough, there’s a ring on his hand as well.

You grab his hand curiously. When you touch it, there’s no difference between his fingers and the pseudo-platinum band, all of it just cool vibranium in disguise.

"It’s fake," you say. "It’s not the same."

"No," he agrees and pulls his hand away. "Looks real enough, though."

You notice the red splotches on his neck and wonder what it is that you’ve said this time, but it’s pointless anyway. He’s not going to tell you even if you asked.

Maybe you should be used to him icing you out by now, but it still hurts.

***

"Yes, Steve, I know," you sigh. "We’re just gathering intel, nothing else."

"I just wanted to have you say it again so we’re all clear. You both love taking risks when it’s not necessary."

"Alright, punk, we got it," Bucky says, tugging at his tie again.

You can’t even blame him for the nervous habit; you’ve been twisting your fake wedding ring around your finger for the entire drive.

This isn’t the first time the two of you had to go undercover as a couple; hell, it’s not even the first time you’ve pretended to be married. Usually, though, you could have a laugh about the whole thing together.

Now you barely know how to act around Bucky as yourself, let alone as some made up woman.

"I think we’re going to attract a lot of attention if we don’t get out soon," you say, readjusting the collar of your blouse underneath your coat.

You notice Steve staring at your hand for a moment, a frown between his brows, but his lips curve upwards a split second later. "Ready to do this?" he asks and you smile a little in confirmation.

Bucky takes another breath and then he nods curtly. "Let’s go."

The change that goes through him as soon as the two of you climb out of the car is so stark you almost turn on your heels again and beg Steve to let you off the hook, after all. His hand sneaks around your waist and pulls you closely into his side as you walk towards the hotel, all soft smiles and charm.

"Sorry for the holdup," he tells the bellman waiting next to your bags with a wink. "The missus and I just needed another minute."

You lightly slap Bucky’s chest in fake indignation. It’s quick thinking on his part, really.

When you’re checking in under your assumed names for the evening, he keeps his arm around you, and the content look stays in his eyes. A subtle glance at your surroundings tells you some of your persons of interest have already arrived early for the event tonight, looking around the sparkling lobby with the same feigned boredom.

Bucky nudges your cheek with his nose and then smiles again when you look at him. It makes your brain shut off for a moment.

When he looks at you like this, it’s so easy to forget the past couple of months and just pretend for a moment. What if there was no mission at all, and it could simply be the two of you?

But of course, that’s not possible. All of it is fake, including the way he looks at you. You know that.

So how come it doesn’t feel fake to you at all?

***

You hate this dress, you hate these people, you hate this dinner, and most of all, you hate how much you enjoy spending this much time so physically close to Bucky.

It feels so natural when he links your hand with yours, so fucking meant to be, even though he’s just putting on a show for the band of creeps you’re tasked to keep an eye on.

But damn if he’s not good at it.

It’s amazing, really, how his eyes immediately soften when you turn your head towards him, like you’re the only person in the whole room. He looks at you during this charade like you wish he’d look at you daily, even far from prying eyes around you; especially then. It makes your breath shorten, your heart pounding erratically because it thinks it’s getting everything it’s ever hoped for.

Hearts are often stupid like that.

A full night of glances and touches and the pretence of secret whispers will do all kinds of twisted things to your feelings.

There’s a lull in the conversation, and when Bucky squeezes your hand you realize he’s no longer the only one who’s looking at you.

You chuckle nervously. "I’m sorry, I got … distracted for a moment. What were you saying?"

"Ah, newlyweds," one of the investor goons laughs. He’s a particularly vile looking man whose suit is way too big on his spindly limbs.

Bucky, academy award winning actor in another lifetime, chuckles politely while the fondness in his eyes seems to increase tenfold. "We’ve been married three years, actually," he says, sticking to your official cover story.

It’d been Tony’s idea to keep your fake timeline as close to the truth as possible to avoid any slip-ups. It’s a great move on paper, really, but in reality it just adds another nail to the coffin.

Three years ago, you were on a mission in Brussels, only the second one ever where it was just the two of you. It was mostly surveillance, so one of you usually had downtime while the other kept lookout. It became customary that you’d entertain each other during those long hours, getting to know each other intimately for the first time, taking the first tentative steps towards the friendship you now share.

That mission was the groundwork of your falling in love with him in the first place.

"You seem to be doing something right if you’re both still so enamoured with each other," Spindly Arms says.

"I’m the luckiest guy in the world," Bucky responds, still looking into your eyes. "It’s hard not to do the right thing, then."

He presses a kiss to your cheek and you smile timidly. His lips linger for just a moment, and then he moves to whisper into your ear, something you’re sure looks like sweet nothings to everybody else but is actually a, "Don’t fall asleep on me."

You tilt your head, shove him teasingly as if he’d said something inappropriate, and because he’s always been quick to catch on he winks, obvious enough so that the other people that are part of this conversation can clearly see it.

It’s not long after this that you excuse yourselves, walking around the room with apparent aimlessness. Everything is sparkling with pure gold decorations and countless little twinkling lights that have been scattered around the room like millions of fireflies. You spot an actual orchestra right underneath the massive Christmas tree.

"Kind of tacky, don’t you think?" Bucky murmurs with a sideway glance at you.

"Maybe a little," you say.

The truth is, though, the room looks oversaturated and expensive and magnificent. Something straight out of a Hallmark movie, more like a movie set than a real place.

It’s the one thing that keeps this whole thing from being completely unbearable.

He must have seen the truth in your eyes, because he ducks his head and says quietly, "I’m gonna go check out the terrace."

You just nod and smile as he kisses your cheek again and then vanishes through the crowd with a few long strides. Sighing, you take another drink from the tray a waiter offers you, absent-mindedly rubbing your cheek.

"What a lovely surprise," a voice says next to you and you freeze for a moment before forcing yourself to calmly take a sip. "Miss … Winter, was it?"

"Mrs," you say with a pleasant smile. "Good evening, Director."

"Right, of course." Director de Fontaine eyes her martini warily. "I don’t suppose these olives are fresh, do you?"

Your mind is racing. If she’s here on official business, then your entire operation might be compromised.

"So," she continues, looking rather bored. "Met any interesting people yet, Mrs Winter?"

"Oh, yes," you say lightly, clinging to your role of unassuming young wife. "It’s all rather exciting."

"I’m sure. These kinds of events are all very … shiny." She looks into your eyes and there’s an almost explicit warning written in hers. "It’s surprisingly easy to get blinded."

You swallow heavily even as she smiles. "If you’ll excuse me, I think I see someone …"

You quickly walk over to the buffet table where some of the wives have formed a semi circle of gossip, trying your best to hide your sigh of relief when the director doesn’t follow you.

For a few minutes, you lose yourself in pointless gossip, until one of the women takes hold of your forearm.

"You must tell us, what’s your secret?"

"Excuse me?" you chuckle nervously.

"Your husband!" she exclaims, earning a few nods from some of the others. "He clearly adores you," she goes on. "I don’t think he’s looked away from you once since you joined us."

You steal a look around your shoulder. She’s right. Bucky’s gaze immediately locks with yours, an almost bashful grin on his lips. You caught me, his eyes seem to say, and you feel a rush of heat go through you.

He should be nominated for an Oscar with this performance.

Quickly, you turn around again to meet several expectant pairs of eyes.

"I don’t know what to tell you," you say. "He’s just … always been like this. I mean, he’s my best friend. I really don’t know what I would do without him."

There’s not a word of a lie in what you’re saying, and it elicits a round of coos and murmurs even as your heart gives a sharp pang.

"Dance with me?"

You flinch, turning to look at Bucky’s outstretched hand, at the sad, hopeful look in his eyes, and the line between reality and fiction blurs a bit more.

You take his hand, and he pulls you onto the dance floor, some cheery Christmas song ramping up to its big finale. Then, the band switches to a slower song. To you, it sounds mournful.

"That was nice," Bucky mutters into your ear. "What you said."

"I meant it, you know," you whisper, but he turns, and you don’t think he’s heard you.

Bucky places his hand on your hip and you hide a shudder. His gloved fingers wrap around yours, and then you start moving again.

You barely know the steps, but he’s a great leader, and he doesn’t say anything when you step on his toes. In fact, his gaze softens even more when he looks at you after the third time, the hand around your waist pulling you a little closer.

"How are you doing this?" you say without stopping to smile.

"Easy," Bucky says, and the way he says it almost makes you believe it’s true.

You bite your lip, trying to stop yourself from breathing him in. "I didn’t mean the dancing."

With the last note of the song, you stumble over his foot again and he snorts. "Me neither."

The melody changes and neither of you lets go. His steps are getting slower, smaller, like he’s just trying to keep both of you in motion. Your head is spinning. The twinkling lights are starting to blur into a great mass of stars in the background, like you’re at the center of a music box and everything else is just background noise.

You wrap both hands around his neck as you’re swaying, then, your foreheads only inches apart. You could stay in this moment forever, you think, as it stretches into blissful infinity. Somewhere, a clock strikes ten.

Bucky leans in a little closer and your breath hitches again.

"It’s time," he whispers, and your eyes fly open.

You’d almost forgotten about the mission.

"Val is here," you say quietly.

His expression hardens for just a second. "What?"

"She came to talk to me earlier. She knows we’re here."

"Why didn’t you say something?"

"I … There wasn’t time."

"We’re just gonna have to be quick and discrete."

You open your mouth, but then you see the distance close in again between you two, and so you just nod.

The plan is almost laughably simple, but it’s probably going to work out just as you’ve laid out beforehand. Everyone in the room has watched the two of you staring at each other for the past couple of hours, so no one bats an eye when Bucky nudges you gently and you make your way up the stairs to the fancy elevator that’s going to take you up to a bedroom.

Or, more specifically, to a bedroom that’s being used to store all kinds of evidence, but no one else needs to know that little detail.

You notice the director talking to Spindly Arms and a couple of other people, but you force your gaze not to linger on her. Instead, you grab Bucky’s hand more tightly.

He lets go of you as soon as the elevator doors close behind the two of you, dragging a hand through his hair and messing it up. There aren’t any cameras in the elevator, but you’re both pretty sure there will be on the floor you’re going. "CIA exposure, that’s exactly what we needed."

"There was nothing I could’ve done," you say, tugging your sleeves down your shoulders.

"I’m not blaming you, sweetheart," Bucky says distractedly, loosening his tie. Your heart makes a very heavy thud. "But if Walker shows up tonight as well, I’m gonna shoot first and ask questions later."

"No, you won’t," you say with a grin, mostly because you know he didn’t bring his gun because the male attendees were all frisked at the entrance.

"Maybe I’ll throw a knife. I could say it was an accident."

The conversation lasts barely a moment, but it reminds you so much of what the two of you used to be, it hurts.

You follow him stumbling out of the elevator onto the right floor with a breathless laugh. There’s no one in sight as you subtly check the room numbers before making him follow you with a coquettish smile for the security camera.

You find the right door without much trubble, pulling the keycard out of your inconvenient little handbag. "Come on now," you murmur as the lock rejects it at the first try.

Suddenly, Bucky’s hand is on your waist again, and you gasp as he spins around. The keycard drops to the floor.

He presses you against the wall, effectively trapping you in his embrace. Your hands are laid flat against his chest, his heart thundering madly underneath your fingertips. Bucky’s eyes flit around madly, like he’s trying to come up with something on the spot and, for the first time since you’ve known him, is left without ideas.

You gasp as his nose brushes against yours.

"Sorry," he whispers hoarsely. And then he kisses you.

Your body responds immediately, lighting a fire in your core as his lips press against yours, hungry, gentle, almost apologetic. You can taste the champagne on his tongue.

You arch your back against him on instinct as his hands travel down your arms, brushing your hips, your tighs, slowly parting your dress at the slit. Your eyes fly open the moment you realize what he’s doing, even though he swallows your gasp.

In one smooth motion, he pulls the I.C.E.R. out of the garter on your thigh and fires a single, silenced shot. The guy with the earpiece barely has the time to grunt before he sacks against the opposite wall, unconscious, his hand still in the pocket of his jacket.

"Fuck," you hiss, pushing Bucky away from you. He stumbles slightly, the gun loose in his fingers. His eyes are almost black as he blinks at you. "You could have told me we’re being shadowed."

Bucky’s mouth is stained from your lipstick, and the sight of that alone makes your head swim. You can still feel the ghost of his hand on your leg.

"It’d have blown our cover," he replies, infuriatingly calm. "Hate me later, our window has just narrowed by a bit."

You swallow, blinking to try and gain control over your breath again, grabbing your gun back with a short nod. "Let’s finish this, then."

***

Back at the Compound, you both give an exhausted report about the events of the night, leaving out nothing but your improvised kiss on floor fifteen.

Your lips are still tingling with it.

Finally, you and Bucky are left alone in the briefing room, and for the first time in weeks, he doesn’t just get up and leave as soon as the silence takes hold. Instead, you both sit next to each other, staring straight ahead.

"I guess we should talk," he says slowly, reluctantly, and you can’t help it.

Your defenses shoot up again.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," you say, squinting.

"Yes, you do." He’s lost the tie hours ago, but he keeps tugging at the fabric in his hands as if it could give him the words he’s looking for. "I shouldn’t have kissed you, not with … Not like that."

"Like you said, the guy would’ve blown our cover," you say, crossing your arms.

"Doesn’t make it right."

"What do you want me to say, Buck?" you say sharply. "That you should’ve talked to me before? Well, I’m kind of used to you not doing that anymore, so just forget it."

"Y/N—"

"No, really, it’s fine. Like I said, you’re leaving, anyway, so what does it matter. Didn’t tell me you were planning to do that, either. You just did it."

"You know why I’m leaving."

"No, I fucking don’t!" There are tears in your eyes now. "I have been trying really hard, Bucky, but you’ve just shut me out. I thought you needed space, which is fine, by the way, but you just—one day you decided you were done with me and that was it."

He stares at you incredulously. "You seriously don’t remember."

"Don’t remember what?!"

"That you were talking about me. To Natasha."

The memory rushes through you so violently it’s almost ridiculous you hadn’t thought about it in months.

You’d just come back from another undercover op, and you’d called her right as the door to your room had closed behind you because not for the first time, your feelings had threatened to spill over again.

"You should talk to him. Be honest."

"No, Nat, come on, I can’t—I can’t do that to him. I can’t risk … you know, he’s my best friend. And that’s all it can ever be. I don’t want to ruin what we have. I just wish he’d make it easier."

"You’re making excuses, you know. Both of you deserve a bit of happiness, don’t you think?"

"I tried," Bucky says now, barely looking at you. "I tried making it easier. But you’re so …"

"So what?" you ask hollowly, ignoring the fact that you can feel the tears starting to trickle down your cheeks now. "So pathetic? That’s what this is about, isn’t it? That’s why you asked for the transfer, so you can be rid of me."

"Rid of you?" Bucky starts, but you ignore him.

"You know what, Bucky, fuck you if you think my feelings for you are so much of an inconvenience that you need to leave the state. Silly me for thinking we could be adults about this."

"You’re the one who wouldn’t just tell me."

"Well, now you know anyway and I’m sure once you’re off to Cairo or wherever the fuck they’re going to send you, you can have a big old laugh about the stupid girl who fell in love with you despite the fact that—"

"Love?"

"I mean, obviously?!"

"You … you’re in love … with me?" There’s something very soft and vulnerable in Bucky’s eyes.

"Are we talking about two different phone calls?"

"I thought you hated me."

You huff incredulously. "Why would I hate you?"

"That’s why I gave you space, I thought … but then …" He grabs your hands. "Sweetheart, I’ve been in love with you for years."

It punches the air out of your lungs. "What?"

Bucky’s eyes are devastating as he looks at you, then. "I’m so sorry, I—I got it all wrong, I was just—I thought you know and you didn’t see me like that and that’s why I …"

"You …?" you say, still not quite comprehending what’s going on.

His thumb caresses your knuckles, halting when it makes contact with the ring you’re still wearing. "I'm in love with you," he says quietly.

"I don’t understand," you whisper.

"Please tell me I didn’t fuck this up completely."

This time, you’re the one to lean in.

Where your first kiss in the hallway had been feverish, this one is soft, almost unbelievably sweet, both of you still breathless with the fact that you’re allowed to do this. Finally, it feels like all the pieces are falling into place and you’re home again.

You press closer into him and Bucky smiles against your lips, pulling you in with his hands on your hips just like he did when you were dancing earlier.

The loudspeakers overhead crackle. "Alright, kids, we’re gonna break this up until you’re back in your own quarters, I don’t want to expose FRIDAY to the creation of your sex tape."

You break up with a snort.

"Fuck you, Tony," Bucky shouts, but he’s still smiling as wide as you’ve ever seen him do.

You giggle as you nudge your nose against his, curling your fingers into his hair. "That reminds me, you know."

"Of what?"

"Quick and discrete," you mumble, repeating his words from the hotel. "Title of your sex tape."

Bucky groans and shuts you up again.

(A few years later, you get the ring back.)

happy holidays, y'all 💛 thank you for reading!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!

#sweet as sugar challenge #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #almost believing

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rooshoom · 10 months

Text

I did it. I have Spots verbal quirks in the previous post and now you get to have Spots physical quirks and movements with some quotes from when I noticed he does them.

Poses

Terrible casual ‘guy’ poses

The arm lean, the hand on the hip, the tilted head. He is totally faking the confidence.

“I love how many of your there are!”

“It’s the place with the big collider.”

Shoulders / Arms

When he first walks into the store to rob the ATM, he has super tense shoulders. We see a lot of his stress and tension carried more in his upper body than lower body.

Lots of shrugging

Shrinks in on himself by squeezing his arms to his sides

During the flashback when he brought the spider from 42 to 1610 you can really see how much he tries to squeeze in on himself.

Slings his arms, when he throws his portals his arms fly forward very fluidly. Example when he throws the portal at Pav, Gwen and Hobie, he throws it hard enough that his upper body drops once it’s out of his hand.

Hand movements

Fingers first, if you watch the way he reaches into the ATM he doesn’t just casually reach in, he grabs things with his fingers instead of his whole hand or with his palm

Floppy hand / t-rex arm

Conveys tons of emotions through his hands, like when he is shocked he flexes his fingers open. Maybe picked up on this since he can no longer express emotion through his face.

Balled fists but likely out of nerves. Once again seen in the flashback of the spider.

Points with all of his fingers instead of just one. “You made me into this!”

Standing / walking

It seems like he only stands at full height when he’s trying to convince himself to be confident. “I am the Spot.”

Even when he’s actually confident he doesn’t stand at full height. Right before he disappears inside Pav’s collider, which you can tell by his verbal cues that he’s very confident with what he's about to do, he’s still leaned over.

Knees together, once against this man just wants to appear small.

Clumsy. “I need more spots!” Running into walls, dropping things, and twisting around corners.

Would rather stand, crouch, or stand on his knees than sit down. Look at Gwen watch him ramble to himself while building, he doesn’t sit once.

Crouches with his neck more than his back. “You’ll have a villain worth fighting for.”

Head / Face

Head tilts

Leans forward to see with face first, so lucky he has a hole right there to deflect fists because if he didn’t he would be punched in the face so fast.

When he says “wow four on there.” You can see him lean in with his face. Totally why that old lady beat him with a purse.

Literal nose tilted up attitude later in the movie. When he’s in Pav’s universe dropping scientists into portals, he has face tilted up and nodding along with how many holes he creates.

Other

I see him stim with his legs a lot, such as hopping foot to foot. “This is real.”

Just generally very fluid, watch how he falls into the portal when he yells, “I am your nemesis!” He flops into it instead of bracing for impact. He has no sense of self preservation.

He. Cannot. Fight. Watch all of his scenes and look at how loose he is. A slinky of a man.

Look at how he flails. This man would flinch if you threw a pillow at him.

Y’all, I’m absolutely encouraging you to write Spot X Reader with my lists. I’m trying to make this easy as possible, don’t think babygirl just write a bedtime story for the masses we can all peacefully drift off to. Let me spoil you with the time I spent doing this so you don’t have to.

#jonathan ohnn #the spot #across the spiderverse #the spot x reader #jonathon ohnn #what else should I write about

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shotmrmiller · 5 months

Text

PAUSE! OH MY GOD. writing a soap smut got me thinking.

As a medic in base, you see the 141 guys all the time. Whether in passing or because they get injured, you’re always interacting with them. Your particular lack of response at Ghost’s irritated glare after reprimanding him for being unable to keep his stitches intact during training is what solidified your friendship with Johnny— what Soap tells you to call him.

Every time Johnny goes out, he likes to drag you along and this is where you notice peculiar interactions between him and Ghost.

The way Ghost gives Soap Johnny his full attention when he’s speaking, turning his entire body to face him, even if it’s something completely trivial. Or how Johnny stresses over Ghost who’s injured on your med table and Ghost will comfort him. When going on a mission, if one goes, so does the other.

You wonder if there's something else going on.

—

You get your answer.

One day you’re knocking on Johnny’s door because it wouldn’t be the first time he’s tried to weasel out of a physical. You’d think getting shot would hurt more than a vaccine but here you are— about to twist his scottish ear off. The door finally opens, and you barge in because you aren’t about to cause a scene in the middle of the hallway when you freeze.

Ghost is in Johnny's room, lying on the bed. If looks could kill, Ghost’s would’ve leveled the base. And he’s naked under the sheets— if that tree trunk-sized bulge is what you think it is. It doesn't even look hard. Bloody hell.

You shift your gaze towards Soap, and your eyes drop— he's clad in nothing but a towel that hangs dangerously low on his hips.

Massive. These men just walkin’ round with weapons in their pants.

Shaking off those thoughts, you shift your attention to his face.

“Meet me at the clinic in 10 or so help me god, Johnny.” and walk out the door.

You hear a muffled "Yes ma'am" , and a hiss escapes your lips.

That cocky smile Johnny had means he definitely saw you ogling them.

—

A week passes and it’s a friday. You can’t wait to lock yourself in your barracks room and watch movies the entire weekend— you plan to start as soon as you're off the clock.

And then other medics twist your arm into going out for drinks.

Now you find yourself seated at a table in a lively bar, indulging in shots of tequila. As you glance around, your eyes catch sight of Soap and Ghost standing near the bartender. It appeared that some woman is talking to Johnny and he has a polite, detached smile on his face. Always too kind to strangers.

Then she starts caressing his thigh.

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. Right in front of Ghost’s salad? You lock eyes with Ghost and he looks murderous. Jesus.

You usually don't stick your nose in others' business, but if you don’t intervene, Ghost might actually kill her in her sleep. Besides, tequila has always made you bold.

With a confident stride, you make your way towards Johnny and remove that woman’s hand before settling yourself snugly on his lap— and you wrap his arms around your waist.

“And who is this?” you ask Soap, but the girl questions back.

“No. Who are you?”

Bitch.

Curling your upper lip, you answer, “I’m the one he comes in every night hoping it takes. Now leave before I make you,” completely ignoring the massive bulge pressing up into your arse.

She looks at you with a bewildered expression, but doesn't move so you finish off with, "Try it. Just a warning though, it'll be hard to fight when the fight ain't fair."

You cock your head to the side with a taunting expression and the woman scoffs before walking away. Noticing she left her almost full drink behind, you give it to the bartender to toss in the trash. She's just gonna have to get another one.

Your act comes to an end, so you shift to stand up— and realize that the arms encircling your waist tighten, keeping you on his lap. His clothed cock.

“Ye didnae think we’d let ye go after yer little show, did ye?”

Unless Johnny’s speaking french, he just said we. You'd be nervous but you aren't about to decline what could be the best sex of your life. The want you feel in Soap's pants has you riding a certain high— it makes you feel confident.

Grabbing onto the edge of the bartop, you swivel the stool you're on to face Ghost.

“And this okay with you? I wouldn’t be stepping on any toes, or nothin’?”

Ghost swiftly lifts you from Johnny's lap and places you onto his own.

“Does this answer your question?” and draws you closer before grinding his erection against you.

And it sure as hell does. Slapping the counter, you ask for some water. If this night is going to end with you sandwiched between these two, you want to remember all of it.

reader's a boss ass bitch. GET IT CHILE.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod #cod mwii #cod mw2 #simon riley #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #ghoap #ghoap x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #ghost simon riley

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certainlynotasimp · 11 months

Note

HAVE YOU SEEN SHADOW AND BONE?? THERES THIS CLIP OF THIS COUPLE WHO ALSO EXISTS OUT OF A SORT OF SUNSHINE X GRUMPY TROPE AND THE CLIP IS SOSOSOOS CUTE. the more sunshine character is like feeding the grumpy character some sweets. wait i’ll add the link to the video, anyways i would love to see sunny and miggy in a scenario like that, and the rest of the spideys just looking at them in awe.

https://twitter.com/yuliankostov/status/1388807975029166083?s=46&t=WRllkwsz5bskkR6yQEcFtw

Sweet as You

Miguel O’Hara x Reader

A/N: I’ve never seen Shadow and Bone, but that scene was so ADORABLE! 🥹 I literally spent my whole lunch break writing this and thank you guys so much for the amazing support!

Warnings: Alludes to Sunny’s backstory, No use of Y/N, established relationship?, female reader, Grumpy x Sunshine.

I still haven’t seen the movie, but some of what happens was spoiled for me. This takes place before https://www.tumblr.com/certainlynotasimp/719098951359496192/walking-on-sunshine

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean that little nerd has two spidermen there?!” Miguel snaps at Lyla as the other spidermen watched.

“Exactly as I said,” the AI said nonchalantly. “Peter Parker from Earth 19999 and his Doctor Strange has caused multiple inter dimensional rifts and even involved Spidermen from T-200001 and R-2011005.”

Hobie snickers as Miguel looks like he’s about to pop a vein as he examines the inter dimensional damage this event is causing. Jessica sends Hobie a scolding glare before looking at her leader with a reassuring smile.

“I’m sure whatever is happening is being handled.” She soothes. “Didn’t you send someone out there to monitor the situation, Lyla?” Jessica tries to ease his worries by hoping Lyla sent in someone equipped to handle the situation.

“Of course.” The AI calmly says as she looks over the reports. “I sent the new recruit, “Spider-Gwen”, along with Spider-Woman 16457-0…”

The whole room went silent for a moment as they realize that Lyla just sent the one person they hoped wasn’t sent in.

Jessica looked at Miguel only to see him glaring a Lyla, looking like he’s about to go ballistic. “Hey Lyla, it’s not a good idea to joke about sending Sunny off on some mission-“ Jessica nervously laughs as she notices Miguel’s talons growing out of his finger tips.

Lyla, clearly not bothered by the tension in the room, scoffs. “Who else would I send to handle this? Better to send someone who doesn’t have a dimension to protect to a potentially doomed one.” She reasons.

And that was what broke the camel’s back.

“LYLA, I SWEAR TO-“ Before Miguel could snap at his AI, all the the abnormalities on the screens resolved themselves as Lyla smiles.

“Mission successful. Spider-Gwen and Spider-Woman are heading back to the Lob-“ The AI is interrupted when Miguel shuts her off. Everyone cautiously avoids eye contact with their leader as he sits back into his spot, the tension still lingering like a fog.

A bright glowing portal appears above the table and two figures drop down laughing.

“That was amazing! Did you see how that building just twisted like paper?” Gwen laughs as Sunny smiles back at her.

“That was fun!” The spiderwoman giggles as she takes in where they landed. “Miggy!” Sunny exclaims as she sees her tall companion, her mask disintegrating so her excited gaze meets his frustrated one.

Gwen notices the tension filled room of her colleagues and jumps down beside Jessica and Hobie while Sunny plops right infront of Miguel. Before she could ask about what was happening, Jessica shushes Gwen and watches the two spiders interact.

“What’s wrong, Miguel?” Sunny tilts her head as she looks at his deep frown.

“Nothing.” Miguel snaps as his harsh stare examines her body. Upon realizing that the damage was minimal, his annoyed expression softens to mild irritation.

Sunny still frowns at his before an idea causes a smile to form on her face. She reaches into her hip bag and pulls out a small ziplock bag. Miguel raises an eyebrow at the shorter woman as she opens the bag and presses a small piece of candy to his mouth. He moves his head so the sticky hard candy misses his mouth as he grumbles.

“Sunny, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to get that bitterness out of your face, Miggy.” She answers back as her free hand grasps his chin. Even though he’s stronger than she is, he rolls his eyes and lets her move his face back. She attempts to press the candy to his lips but he doesn’t comply with a slight hint of a blush on his sharp cheekbones.

“Miguel..” Sunny growls in frustration, which sounded more adorable than intimidating to Miguel. Her brows furrowed as her eyes burned in annoyance. Her mouth twisted from its normally cheery position into a deep pout.

Miguel’s annoyance disappears as he admires her, his eyes shining with a brief moment of awe. Before he can realize what’s happening, Sunny pushes the hard candy into his mouth with a victorious smile. Miguel looks at her in shock before rolling his eyes, the adoration still lingering behind the false annoyance.

“See? There’s my sweet Miggy.” Sunny hums as she lets go of his face. The warmth from her hand left his face burning despite the breath of relief that left his nose. The fear of almost losing her again was unbearable, so seeing her smiling at him again with those same warm eyes made his own lips curl slightly.

Before he could reply, a snort of muffle laughter breaks the bubble around them.

Jessica lightly smacks Hobie as Miguel’s eyes glares at the forgotten audience around him and his Sunshine. Hobie controls his fit of laughter at the sight of his ruthless leader putty in the small spider’s hands as Miguel focuses on him.

“I’m sorry, boss.” Hobie gasps to catch his breath. “It’s just-“

Before any of them can explain themselves, orange portals appear below them as Miguel seethes with a look of embarrassment, “Get out.”

As all the spidermen are teleported out of the room, Gwen looks to Jessica as they all land in the lobby. “What was that about?”

Jessica chuckles as her eyes shines at the younger spider warmly. “That’s what a whipped man looks like.”

She laughs as she realizes that Sunny wasn’t kicked out of the meeting room like the rest of their colleagues.

~~~~~~~~~

What adventures should they get up to next?

#miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #fanfiction

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athynathens · 4 months

Text

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ surprise, princess.

“If I were to flatten my tongue in this delicate pussy of yours, would you cry or mewl?”

PAIRING. Bakugo Katsuki x You/Reader

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. This oneshot covers the My Hero Academia AU. In this universe, Bakugo Katsuki is already a pro hero, but you/reader is a popular actress.

SYNOPSIS. As an actress, your job is to entertain and give content through acting. This also includes fanservice which you don’t mind. However, the only boundary you have is that you refuse to make any pornographic scenes with anyone in the movies or shows because you are only bound to your husband. But, some lunatic decided to disregard your boundary and forces you to film such a scene. Just how exactly will your husband react to this?

WARNING. minors dni, 18+ scenes, mature scenes ahead such as rough sex, cunnilingus, blowjobs, deepthroating, fingering, edging, humiliation, dirty talk, roleplay, knife play, dry humping, passionate kissing

AUTHOR’S NOTES. Idk yall, this scene just happened to popped out my head while rewatching bha lol. Besides, it sounds hot and has an intriguing plot too? So why not decide to make my imagination a reality….through writing lmao. Also please don’t attack me with my shitty smut…it’s been a while since I’ve honestly written one so go easy on me :)

You were beyond irritated, however, you stopped yourself from showing a foul expression in front of the director. This stupid son of a bitch wants you to film a sex scene for the TV series that they are currently filming. His stupid damn reason is fanservice — not that it’s a bad thing since it’s already a norm in this society, but you have boundaries when it comes to fanservices. Your only boundary is that you refuse to film pornographic scenes with anyone because your body is only for your dear husband, Bakugo Katsuki.

“With all due respect, Mr. Director, I already mentioned that I absolutely refused to film such a scene with someone else,” You reminded, praying and asking quietly for help to keep her sanity.

“Oh come on now! Your beauty is such a waste! You should share whatever you have underneath those clothes to everyone, you know?” The director grinned, looking at you up and down, analyzing you like some kind of meat.

Hold back. Hold back. Hold your fucking mouth back. “You flatter me too much. But, I still stand by my words. I refuse to film such a scene. I have my rights when it comes to choices like this,” You firmly said with a smile.

“Don’t give me that bullshit! You wanna talk about choices?! I make your choices! I make all of your choices! I don’t even know why I asked you! When I say you are filming the fucking scene, you are filming the goddamn scene! You understand, bitch?” He screamed, throwing his folder to the ground, causing everyone to flinch, but they resumed their tasks. This is a normal thing in sets so it isn’t anything special, but to think this yelling is about some narcissistic asshole who thinks the world revolves around him.

The director took a deep breath before continuing, “Your scene tomorrow will be about a gladiator from Rome who’s been in love with you so he decided that he wanted to taste you when you go back to your room in the palace. Is that clear?”

Go to hell, you stupid brainless motherfucking— “Crystal Clear.”

The director’s angry expression turned into a satisfying expression. He placed his hands on top of your shoulders. “I knew you were a good girl,” He said darkly, caressing your shoulders. “I’m sorry if I screamed. Although, I wouldn’t even be screaming if you just listened like the good little girl you are, hm?”

Die, you goddamn extra. “Yes, that was my mistake,” You smiled, trying your best to hold back a fucking punch.

The director gave her one last smile then left her to dismiss everyone on set. After that, the rest of the day just became worse for you. You spent the rest of the night just crying and sobbing at the corner of your hotel room while eating ice cream and throwing candy wrappers around. You wanted to call your husband, but you didn’t want to disturb him either since he is probably doing patrols in Japan.

“Stupid fucking director! If I only knew his attitude was like this then I should have never said yes to this fucking series!” You sniffled, getting a tissue to wipe away your tears and snots.

“AND! If only I wasn’t intrigued by the plot then, none of this would even happen! Here I thought, being away from my husband will be a pain! BUT NOOO!! Turns out! This stupid director is the real pain!” You cried out, throwing the tissue on the floor, and stomping your feet on the ground.

The TV series is called The Tyrant. It’s about the middle princess of the Roman Empire falling in love with a tyrant of a king in Greece. And since this is in the Roman/Greek setting, you can say there are a lot of sex scenes, but you’ve managed to get away from them. This is all because of the character you’re playing; your character is the sister of the Tyrant King who has the reputation of being hard on men. And, because she’s the tyrant’s sister, she’s basically untouchable.

The vibrations of your phone caused you to groan in frustration, standing up from the floor as you wobbled towards the bed to get your phone.

You only choked on your saliva to see the name. “WHAT? ITS MEH HUSBAND?!?!” You screamed in shock, losing your balance a bit and fell down to the floor.

You cursed at your stupidity, sitting back up as you fixed yourself and took a deep breath before answering the call.

“Hey, ‘Suki!! Why are you calling??” You asked, acting cheerful.

Katsuki only chuckled. “Am I not allowed to call my wife?”

Your cheeks flushed in redness. “Yes. I MEAN! No! You are allowed! Sorry! It’s just that…isn’t it late morning in Japan? During that time, you are doing patrols.”

For some reason, Katsuki’s husband's instincts activated. He can sense something is wrong with his wife. You may be a good actress, but you sure as hell can’t hide nor act away your true feelings from Katsuki.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry to break the mood, but are you alright?” Katsuki asked straightforwardly. If there is one thing he learned about relationships is when communicating, don’t beat around the fucking bush — explode your way right through it! Katuski’s words, not mine.

Your silence only confirmed Katsuki’s suspicion. “Baby, turn on your camera.”

“I-I don’t think it’s a good id—don’t make me repeat,” You shivered at this rough tone, gulping at the thought that you had to reveal your hideous self to your lover.

You hesitantly turned on the camera to see a sweaty Katsuki in his hero suit. Your cheeks flared a bit after seeing your husband’s hot state, but at the same time, you were relieved to see your husband again after 2 months apart. Katsuki fumed red to see his cute wife in this state. His veins popped out his forehead as his jaw flexed in anger — he needed to know who the hell messed with the wife of Dynamight.

“Who?” Katsuki growled angrily.

You shook your head. “Katsuki, it doesn’t even matter—everything that involves you fucking matters to me! So you better start telling me, who has hurt my wife?”

Your mouth left a sigh, refusing to even look into his intense gaze. It’s a bit funny because if she was actually in front of Katsuki, he wouldn’t have shifted your head to make you look at him. Thank the lord that he isn’t in front of you at the moment, right?

With that, you started to tell your husband everything — from the shitty director to the tantrums you made in your hotel room.

Yet, as you were explaining, Katsuki remembered the day you announced that you refused to make pornographic scenes with anyone, and this boosted his love for you even more. As the years progressed, you managed to become famous without making such a scene. You even became famous for acting in known movies of today such as Attack on Titan, Haikyuu, and others. Katuski was really proud that you made it to the top, proving to those worthless extras that you are more than just a pretty face. But as you grew more popular, the increase of demands to see you in an R-18 movie really got him possessive and jealous.

Everytime he would go on patrols, he would hear comments about his wife’s physical appearance. He heard many inappropriate and vulgar phrases that boiled his blood. But due to his hero reputation, he couldn’t just blast them off as he used to in highschool. Hence, he would often just glare down on them at such intensity. This was his only limit to tell those horny assholes off.

However, he fucking almost lost it when he heard from Izuku that the paparazzi are taking pictures of his own wife inappropriately. Of course he took action with this through court, but it wasn’t enough to soothe his frustration.

He gets super annoyed by the fact these extras think that they have a chance with you. He gets really pissed with men who ask him about his wife as if he wasn’t the husband. He gets so frustrated when girls clung up to him when they all know he’s fucking taken. He gets truly angry when people don’t know their fucking place.

“What should I do, ‘Suki?” Katuski’s train of thoughts were interrupted by your sweet voice.

The blond paused for a moment, analyzing his wife’s reactions, expressions, movements. With that, he came up with the only conclusion that will help his wife and satisfy his frustration with those pathetic extras going after his wife.

“Go to set tomorrow. I’ll deal with the problem myself,” Katsuki declared evidently, confusing you literally with what he's planning.

“Okay? Sure? But tell me what you are going to do!! So we can be on the same page!!” You asked, hoping he will answer your question.

“Just so what you always do, bunny,” Katsuki grinned.

“Act”

Your head tilted to the side, frowning in confusion as you tried to ask more questions on what’s his alibi. But he proceeded to say his goodnight and love yous before ending the call. Once again, you had the biggest “huh” plastered on your face, and the question only repeats in your head…

— what’s gonna happen tomorrow?

The next day came like a fucking flash, and you did exactly what your husband asked you to do. However, as soon as you got there, the staff just pushed you to the make-up room to prepare you. As the makeup is being done, you read the script, and you swear to Katsuki’s abs, you need to bleach your eyes with holy water. You wanted to choke in disgust with this unholy script. It’s kinda ironic given that she has done this before but only with her husband! Not with some random extra!

The staff now motioned you to dress up for the shoot. Right now, you’re really expecting that Katsuki will barge in the shooting scene and blast the director to bits. He used to do something as violent as that during your highschool days, but he stopped now that he’s a pro hero.

You stare at the mirror to see you are in your white long dress with a cape behind you, however, your back is seen by everyone. Your hair is styled with curls and has the golden leaf tiara on your head with some bangs on the front. You look beautiful, but to think you would show this beauty to someone who’s not your husband. Your eyes quivered, wanting to cry at that thought, but you held back.

You began to think, “I thought ‘Suki will do something?”

A knock on the door caught your attention, diverting your eyes to the door to see the staff asking you to take position on set. The staff also mentioned, to lift up your mood, that the director looks very pale for some reason. The staff joked that he probably met a monster or something. You giggled at the staff’s words, and it helped lift up your mood a bit.

After minutes of last minute touches with the settings and make up. Every actor went to their places as cameras began to start rolling in…

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

ACTION!

“Oh by the Gods! That impudent brother of mine will never learn how to treat a lady right! Tell me Zeus! What did my brother do in his past life to bear such attitude?” You rubbed the temples of your nose as you walked through the corridors of this magnificent hall of the Roman Empire.

“Brother, I did not spend 6 months in this empire of unholiness for you to lose your lover in one sitting…” You muttered quietly, disappointed at how your dear brother treated the middle princess harshly.

“Your highness!” An attendant screamed.

You turned your head to see your personal secretary running to you with loads of papers. “What’s wrong? What has my absurd brother done again?”

The attendant let out a sweat. “You are right that it is your brother, my princess, but it’s more than that,” The latter hyperventilated. “It turns out that your mother threatens your brother to leave his lover at once or else Rome will face the consequences. I even heard that it was ordered by you.”

You let out a small growl, veins popping though your forehead. “This is what mother wants. A war between Greek and Rome for power and a war between siblings for the throne. She knows that I am the only one who is capable of stopping my brother, hence why she is using that advantage.”

“That foul ungrateful woman!” The attendant cursed.

“Indeed she is. Rest assured that I will work on a solution, but now I must return to my chambers to rest for today was tiring,” You said, gesturing to her room with her head.

“Of course, princess. Have a good rest.”

With that, you exited the scene to return to your resting chambers. Your room is an open area with the great columns surrounding the room. You were smart enough to choose a room with a great valley view and is not easily peaked through by anyone. In the middle of the room is a big circular sunken bathtub with rose petals. Your bed is found at the side with large tables filled with papers and books. You only sighed tiredly, walking to your table as you removed the tiara in your head.

That’s when you heard the doors opening.

“Perfect timing! Please tell the rest of the maids to prepare my bathing tools. I will be bathing myself today also so—” You gasped loudly when a pair of large but familiar hands grabbed your tits from behind.

Oh, you are so going to kill the actor for touching you vulgarly.

But before you can even react, those hands immediately pull your nipples, causing you to grit your teeth as you arch your back. A rough arm circled around your waist as the other hand squeezed your one tit with all his might. You gasped at this familiar sensation. This only caused you to think because this familiar sensation is only given to you by your husband…

…but there’s no way that Bakugo Katsuki is in Rome?

That’s when you heard a familiar dark chuckle. “My, oh my, princess.” Your eyes quivered at that familiar rough tone. His familiar hands grabbed both your tits once more, squeezing it but also spreading them apart, causing you to whimper.

“Who would have thought, hm?” You quivered violently as your head looked back to see a familiar blond hair. “That the great warrior princess of Greece would make such an erotic sound?”

You turned pale, freezing on the spot to see your one and only husband behind you — touching, staring, groping you.

“H-How are you he—” A large mouth held your jaw tightly, covering your mouth. Your body hair stood up at this sensation, as you stared at his intense and lustful gaze.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, princess. Don’t ask stupid questions. It’s better to worry about what's happening in front of you now.” You got caught off guard with what he said, realizing that he’s indirectly telling you to continue acting, and asking for questions is for later.

Shit! What was my line? BKBJWOWP!?! Damn you, Katsuki for being too hot! “You insolent peasant! How dare you touch someone superior to you!” You managed to speak out, despite the pleasure you are receiving from your husband.

“Superior?” He lets out a laugh, bending you with his bulky chest. “I believe that it is, I..” He whispered to your ear, fondling your tits more.

“…am superior to you.” He growled inhumanly, pushing you towards your desk. You attempted to get up, but he pinned you harder to the desk. This only brought pain to your pelvic bone and breast. Bakugo looked down to lick his lips, witnessing your struggles.

He grabbed his dagger from his sandals, spinning it around before landing the tip in your back. You shuddered below him, feeling the sharp object traced your exposed back. “Fuck, princess. Did you have any idea how much this outfit of yours arouses me? Your fucking exposed skin is asking to be touched.”

“T-That wasn’t even my intention to do—” You gasped loudly when he traced the dagger lower, circling it as he placed a bit more pressure.

“Don’t lie to me, princess. Bet you’ve been wanting men to fuck you right there? Maybe that’s the reason why you’ve been wearing such clothes…” He grinned, putting the dagger down. You immediately shook your head to respond to his question, but he gripped your soft hips, pulling them closer to his hard bulge. Your eyes went wide to feel how hard and big he is.

You turned your head to the side with the support of your shaking arms to see the huge tip poking up your ass cheeks. “Yeah, that’s right. Fucking see how hard you made me,” Katsuki licked his lips with such tantalization.

He spread your asscheeks apart to make room for the rest of his cock. You tried to grip something — anything — for support, and you ended up gripping a book. Katsuki threw his head back, feeling his cock wrapped around your warm asscheeks. “Fuckkkk, princess. This is way better than my fantasies.”

You flinched violently under him, which Katsuki noticed. His expression turned into a twisted expression, grinning psychotically at your reaction. He bent down till his bare chest touched your exposed back, he traced your stomach to your neck, wrapping his fingers around it.

He brought his head closer to your ear and whispered, “Did you like the idea of me having fantasies about you, hm?”

You were about to respond when he spoke again. “I fantasize about you every night. My cock throbs for you, princess. I would relieve myself almost everyday, trying to imagine what your walls would feel around me. I often think of ways on how to ravish your body in different positions. My mouth yearns for the taste of your exquisite pussy. Tell me, princess. If I were to flatten my tongue in this delicate pussy of yours, would you cry or mewl?”

“I-I don’t know…” You muttered softly, gripping whatever you are holding tighter.

Katsuki’s eyes looked at the wall near your bed. He grinned sinfully, already having an idea. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

He lifted you up with ease, pushing your back towards the wall as he held you tight and high. He held you up so high that you could see your entire room. The blond did not waste the time to fumble across your dress, ripping the undergarments and immediately dived down. You didn’t even have time to react, but you felt a warm sensation against your pussy.

“EEK!” You gasped, throwing your head against the wall, back arching with your teeth gritted and eyes wide.

“W-Wait!” You pleaded, but he flattened his hot tongue on your pussy harshly, not wasting any juices coming out. He continued to drag his tongue all over your pussy, tasting every single corner. You pussy twitched violently when he bit your clitoris, stimulating more juices to come out. Then, he wrapped his arms around your thighs till his hands met your pussy. He used his hands to toy with your clitoris as he sucked harder.

Your eyes went wide as you immediately held his blond hair. You instinctively pushed his head closer to your pussy. He flicked, rubbed, pinched your clitoris, causing you to jump in euphoria, as you mewl louder and louder.

That’s when you felt something warm go inside you. You screamed violently, gripping his hair tighter. His tongue started to wiggle inside you, skilfully tasting you. Your head kept going side to side, not knowing what to even do. Soon, you shivered in ecstasy which caused you to lean your upper body forward. His tongue curled, hitting a specific spot which stimulated you to roll your eyes back.

“P-Please..! S-Something’s c-coming!” You whimpered, hoping for a release soon, but that’s when he pulled away. This made you sob literally.

“W-Why…” You asked, still holding his hair. “W-Why did you stop…?”

Katsuki looked up to only shiver at the state of his wife; messy hair, sweating body, dress crumbled, eyes dilated with tears, mouth dripping with saliva. Holy fuck, his cock couldn’t possibly get harder than before. It’s been 2 whole painful months since they’ve had sex. Katsuki missed this look on your fucking face, and he’s been wanting to see more.

“Now, now, now, sweetheart. It isn’t fair that you are the only one who gets all the fun. As the princess, don’t you think it’s your duty to tend to your subjects?” Katsuki asked with a small smirk, putting you down on the ground. Your only reaction to that is stumbling on your feet. You had to hold him for support.

“I-I don’t know how to s-suck your t-thing…” You confessed shyly.

He only chuckled. “Don’t worry, princess. I got you,” He cockily said with a wink. He then dragged you to the side of your bed, and he pushed down his clothing on his lower region. You only watched, while on your knees, how his muscles flexed at every movement he does. His veins would pop out, scaring you a bit that it might pop. And oh fuck his pecs, they are fucking big and hot.

“Careful sweetheart. I might be eaten alive by your eyes,” He teased, removing the last armor attached on his body. Then, he sat down on the bed with his legs wide open, revealing his humongous cock. Hot damn his cock slapped your face as he sat down on the bed. You licked your lips as you analyzed his cock; it was infact fucking huge and veiny. His tip was already leaking as it would twitch from time to time.

“Princess.” You flinched with his husky tone.

“I am not a patient person…” He reminded, rubbing his thumb across your lips.

He stared down at your mouth sensually “I want this…” His thumb traced your lips “…small mouth of yours filled with my cock.”

He used his thumb to open your mouth wider. “Go on, princess.” He brought his cock closer to your face.

“Wrap those pretty lips around my cock.”

You licked his shaft slowly, tracing your tongue up and down. Next, you wrapped your hands around his shaft, pumping it slowly as you continued to lick areas of his cock. Katsuki threw his head back, leaning backwards as he held his body weight with his arms. He lets out a small grumble when he feels his tip being engulfed by your warm mouth. His hips stuttered, feeling his tip being sucked on harder. He gripped the sheets as his feet curled in ecstasy.

Feeling a bit braver, you began to take his cock deeper in your mouth, causing Katsuki to growl, “Damn, baby girl. Your mouth feels so fucking good.”

The sudden praise ignited something within you, so you began to suck on his cock harder as you bobbed your head back and forth. Katuski screamed in bliss, holding onto your head tightly with one hand as he began snapping his hips into your mouth. Your eyes went wide at the sudden action, tears started to form once more in your eyes.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He grunted heavily, holding your head with both of his hands, tangling your hair with his fingertips as he thrusted violently inside your mouth. Your eyes rolled back at this new sensation, his cock hitting the back of your throat which made you gag a lot.

Katsuki laughed at the state you’re at. “Yeah. That’s right!” He thrust a bit harder. “Gag on my cock, sweetheart.”

His heavy balls slapped your chin violently, inhaling that muscular gladiator scent of his. Tears began to drop from your eyes as he continued to engulf your mouth.

“Shit! Where did all your pride go, princess? Was that all just an act to rile me up?” He laughed, clenching his jaw after feeling a familiar sensation riling up.

With all of his strength, he pulled away from your mouth as he shivered strongly at the lost sensation. Meanwhile, you cough violently as you sniffle through your nose. You tried to regain the breath you’d lost while sucking his dick. While doing so, you felt warm hands cupping your cheeks.

You looked up to see Katsuki’s eyes full of love and desire. He held you higher, signaling you to stand up from the ground. After you stood up, you two finally crashed into each other’s lips. He groaned loudly, feeling the wave of happiness surrounding him after feeling his wife’s lips again. His hands traveled down his wife’s back to her ass, giving it a tight squeeze. You moaned in his mouth as you continued to passionately engulf each other’s mouths.

Due to the aggressive kissing, the two of you walked back slowly towards the bed. Katsuki sat down first, not even separating his lips from you. His hands began to slide down the strap of your dress, attempting to feel more of your skin. You brought your dress up and sat down on his lap, purposely lining the folds of your pussy on the skin of cock. The blond shivered, feeling how wet you were so he gripped your waist to pull you closer and pressed you more down his cock.

Your hands trace up his muscular shoulders and then to the back of his hair, gripping it tightly. Subconsciously, you began to rock your hips against his hard cock. Katsuki pulled back to moan at the feeling. This immediately made you rock your hips in a steady phase while holding the back of his hair.

“I’ll admit, Gladiator,” You spoke, shocking Katsuki a bit. “You have the balls to even enter the room of the sister of the Tyrant King.”

You giggled, “That’s why I wanna be honest with you, lover boy,” You whispered in his ear.

“The d-day I entered the Colosseum! You were the only gladiator that caught my attention! E-Everytime I would go to the Colosseum, I would often l-look for y-you! I also f-fantasize a-about you!” You moaned, coating his cock with your juices.

“I w-would often p-play with m-myself, t-thinking about h-how your cock would s-shape my insides! I want—fuck!—that to happen!” You whimpered, tears forming on your eyes as you try to reach for your release, thus rocking your hips faster and faster.

Katsuki’s eyes turned animalistic, holding your hips in place. You whined that your husband stopped you once again. “W-Why—Are you sure?” He asked, gripping your hips tighter.

Despite being all messed up, you knew those eyes of his; he’s asking for confirmation if it’s alright to bury his cock inside you right now.

You nodded violently. “I-I want you…! P-Please give me e-everything!”

Katsuki snapped.

“ALRIGHT, EXTRAS! STOP THE CAMERAS! EVERYONE OUT!” He roared loudly, scaring the staff and making you remember that they were filming a scene.

“B-But, Mr. B-Bakugo—didn’t you hear a word I said, you dumbfuck?” He growled one more time, interrupting the director who almost fainted in fear.

“Y-You heard the pro hero! EVERYONE! SCATTER!” The director yelled, throwing his papers in the air and ran away. Every staff laughed at this, relieved that someone has finally put that narcissistic director in his place.

You genuinely forgot that you were filming for a show, and it embarrased you a bit to show this side of yours to the staff and your co-stars. You only placed your head on Katsuki’s shoulders which made him chuckle. The blond caressed your back, comforting you with sweet words and pet names. From time to time, you would lift your head up to see if they left, but you only saw your staff giggling in excitement as your co-stars gave you a teasing smile and thumbs up. After minutes of waiting, they are finally done. They didn’t hesitate to run away to give them the privacy they needed.

With that, Katsuki lets out a loud laughter which causes you to only hit his shoulder. “Damn it, Katsuki! Why did you show up like this? You couldn’t have told me!”

“Sorry, princess,” He grinned, adding a tone with the pet name. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

You only sulked, hitting his shoulders again which made him laugh. After laughing, Katsuki brought his fingers closer to your face, removing the hair that covers your beauty. “I’ve missed you, [name],” He smiled, caressing your cheeks.

“I’ve missed you too” You shyly confirmed, leaning your head towards his hand.

“Wanna continue this roleplay, sweetheart?” He asked, completely destroying the romantic tension with his horniness.

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “You’re into roleplay, Katsuki?” You asked, rocking your hips slowly to tease.

Katsuki chuckled, slapping your ass playfully. “Didn’t consider it first, but now I might consider it because holy fuck, you look so damn hot acting.”

You blushed with his words. “Well, I thought the same. You look really hot acting as a gladiator,” You admitted, arching your back subconsciously.

Katsuki smirked, pulling the ends of your hair down which caused you to look up. “Is that a yes, princess?”

You returned the smirk. “Show me what you’ve got, Gladiator.”

Katsuki’s eyes quivered in lust, bringing his hands on his wife’s chest to rip out the cloth. The action made your breast bounce violently, making you yelp in surprise. Before you can even react, his mouth dove down to your tits as he sucked them with all his might. He used his other hand to press your nipple down to your breast, causing you to hiccup at the action.

“‘Suki… not too r-rough..!” You pleaded, attempting to pull his mouth away from your sensitive breast.

“Oi,” He growled, grabbing your jaw roughly and stared at you with intense eyes. This psychotic-like gaze made you pale in sweat. “You don��t get to tell me what to do, princess.”

“If I want to do something to you, you will fucking accept it,” The hand on your jaw traced down your breast.

“Meaning, if I want this…” He stopped his hand on your stomach. “Filled with my seed, then it will be filled with my fucking seed.”

Your eyes went wide, standing up from his lap as you attempted to run away from this mad man. Your heart dropped when you felt yourself being pushed roughly onto the bed. You fell by your side as you bounced a bit. Your teary eyes opened to see that the gladiator is on top of you.

“There’s no use of running away, princess,” He chuckled, getting the ends of your hair.

“And even if you run, I will find you, sweetheart,” His lips kissed the ends of your hair as he locked his lustful and intense gaze on your soul.

Katsuki licked his lips, seeing how you were displayed below him. Your eyes are dilated with tears with your cheeks red as lips are puffy. The dress is now torned apart, leaving only the lower skirt; this new look on you only emphasized how erotic you look. Your thighs locked together, staring at him with such a look. And fucking hell your breast, they were smuddered with his salvia and bites.

He wanted — no wait — he craved more.

With that, he grabbed his throbbing cock, giving it a few pumps. Then, he aligned it on your vagina area. That’s when you shot your head up, feeling his twitching tip at your entrance.

“W-Wait! G-Give me a momen—” You screamed when he rammed everything in. Your entire body was trembling violently with your back arched and eyes rolled back. Katsuki almost came when he felt the smooth walls of his wife again. He felt his hips twitching, almost releasing his seed inside of her.

You tried to grab something, anything, but your hands just kept thrashing around.

Katsuki licked his lips, combing his hair back. “You feel this, princess?” He asked, tracing to your abdominal, touching the place where he can feel the tip of his cock.

He bent down and whispered, “Your tight cunt managed to take all of me.”

He rolled his hips slowly and gently. “Ya feel that?” He smirked, pressing down your abdomen which stimulated something inside you.

You only replied with a loud whimper. “W-WAIT! D-Don’t do that!” You begged, attempting to remove his hands. Katsuki only scoffed, pressing his hand down further. This action made you come as eyes rolled back with back arched.

This made the blond left with utter shock. You came, and he hasn’t done anything to you just yet. Although he flinched as soon as he felt your walls tightening, and this made him laugh out loud. Your teary eyes only stared at him with shock, getting scared with what’s going to happen.

Katsuki then wrapped his hands around your neck, giving it a tight squeeze. “I’ll be damned, princess. You creamed my dick pretty damn good.”

A tear fell down from the side of your eye in embarrassment, attempting to hide your face. “D-Don’t say t-that…”

Katsuki’s eyebrow arched. “That what? The warrior princess creamed a mere gladiator’s cock?” He gave you one hard thrust.

“It’s too late to have regrets, sweetheart because tonight’s about ravishing my very own ambrosia,” He declared lustfully.

He pulled out his cock, leaving the tip only to only slam everything back inside you harshly. You choked a sob, your tears falling down your eyes at the feeling. He continued to rock his hips in a rough matter, only leaving his fat tip inside then slamming back inside you. Fucking hell, you can feel the bed creaking like crazy from the brutal force Katuski’s giving you.

Katuski indeed fucks you like you are his last ambrosia ever. His hips continued to abuse your pelvis with his brutal force, causing you to scream loudly at the pain and pleasure. His hands gripped both of your tits, holding it tightly as he threw his head back at this feeling. You can only hold his wrists, attempting to remove his hands away from your sensitive breasts.

“Shit, shit, shit…!” He gasped, shaking in pleasure as he pressed his finger down your nipples.

Your eyes rolled back, arching your back as you came again violently.

Katsuki laughed darkly. “Yeah, that’ fucking right. Cream on my cock, princess!”

You jolted when he actually pulled out, causing you to whine a bit at the lost feeling. But your eyes went wide when he flipped you over like a ragdoll. You are now on your knees with your back arched. His hands fumbled your lower skirt, ripping it to pieces, making your entire body presented to him. He did not waste time and shoved everything back inside harshly, causing your body to move forward.

Your pupils shrunk in shock, feeling his cock even more in this position. You can properly see how his cock harshly pushes inside you — holy fuck, you can feel his pre-cum too. He bent down, colliding his chest to your back as he traced his hand to your pussy while the other was wrapped around your neck.

You choked once again, feeling yourself being suffocated with his hands while shuddering at his fingers stimulating your abused pussy. He kept rubbing it harshly while assaulting your pussy with his cock. In impulse, you hold his hand that’s choking you as more tears flow down more.

“S-Slow down, p-please..!” You begged, feeling yourself too stimulated already.

“Go faster? You got it, sweetheart,” He grinned, inserting a finger inside your pussy as he rammed his cock inside you even faster and harder.

You screamed. Your tits violently moving up and down at the rough pace, your thighs shaking again as you can feel something building up again. You know it’s coming — you fucking know it. There’s no way in hell you can hold this back.

“Hold it! Hold it! Fucking hold it!” He slapped your ass, grabbing both of your arms, holding them together behind your back.

“Disobey, and watch me edge you over and over again,” He roughly grunted, pushing his hips forward brutally.

You can only whine in return, forcing yourself to hold it in, no matter how hard and painful that can be. To help you hold your orgasm, you hold the sheets till your knuckles turn white. Your toes curl till you can’t even feel them anymore.

Katsuki grumbled, “Fuck! Here it is!” He gripped your hips tighter, pounding faster and rougher. He can see how your skin bounces back and forth from every thrust he makes. He subconsciously licked his lips at this alluring sight. Katsuki continued to use your hips at a rapid speed, throwing his head back in ecstasy.

You felt his hips stutter, signaling you he was about to release. Katsuki chuckled, feeling your soft walls getting tighter, “You better cum with me, Princess.”

And you did.

You came in unison with your husband.

Tears fell down your eyes, pupils rolled back as your hips stuttered at the feeling of the hard orgasm from your husband. His thick and hot cum invaded your insides, causing you to shiver in delight. You gasped in shock, feeling your husband still hard. Your head shook in disbelief, knowing what’s going to happen next.

“‘Suki, a-are you gonna pull out?” You asked.

Katsuki chuckled, “You want me to pull out?” He grinned, pulling your ass cheeks apart, glimpsing your wet juices and mixed cum dripping from your pussy.

He rocked his hips slowly, “We ain’t even finished yet, princess.”

Oh, sweet mother of—

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝙣𝙤 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩.

#bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #smut #pro hero bakugo x reader #actress reader #mha oc #mha smut #mha bakugou #my hero fanfic #my hero academia #boku no academia #boku no hero fanfic

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manheimsmuse · 4 months

Note

Could you write smut for Ryan Baker? Like he’s jealous or something and is trying to prove a point

BEHAVE ; RYAN BAKER

a/n; very loosely based on that one scene in saltburn because i havent stopped thinking about that movie since i watched it.

warnings; 18+, smut under the cut, afab!reader, fem!pronouns used, fingering, pnv, unprotected sex for the love of god do not to this, ryan is a little mean, degrading language, second ryan smut in a bathroom my subconscious is telling me something.

“look at me when i’m talking to you,”

ryan barks out, grabbing your chin and forcing you to face the mirror in front of you as he bent you over someone’s bathroom sink.

scuba’s party, like all his previous parties, was insane. his house was packed full of people, most of them you never saw before in your life. you knew evan, though, and apparently ryan did not like that.

it was a harmless conversation, ryan was wrapped up in his own with friends of his you didn’t know so when evan approached you you welcomed the opportunity to do something other than stand there looking pretty. you spoke about nothing in hindsight, laughed at some dumb jokes he made and let his flirty comments fly over your head with no acknowledgment.

ryan acknowledged them though, joining your conversation after evan’s second comment on your appearance. five minutes later he’d dragged you into the downstairs bathroom and was pushing your dress up around your hips.

“you think it’s cute, hm? letting some loser jock paw at you like that?”

he repeated his question, one hand remaining on your face as the other found home between your legs, his middle and ring fingers finding their way inside you easily.

you gasp in response, knuckles whitening as you grip the ceramic basin. you always knew ryan was jealous, always worried that someone better would come along and you’d drop him in a heartbeat.

“answer me, angel.”

ryan demands, fingers curling inside you and eliciting a moan from your throat.

“he - he didn’t touch me.”

you challenge, refusing to give in so quickly and give him the answer he wants.

“you think you’re fuckin’ funny, huh?”

he chuckles, fingers moving at a pace that has your jaw hung open and your noises becoming more frequent.

“i think you’re acting like a slut. couldn’t handle not having my attention for five seconds? that desperate that you’d let that neanderthal speak to you like that?”

“ryan, ‘m gonna — no, wait!”

you whine as he retracts his fingers, cursing yourself for letting him know that you were about to cum already.

“what? you think i’m gonna reward that behaviour?”

he laughs, not his usual sweet laugh, but a laugh that lets you know you’re in trouble. his middle finger comes back to slowly circle your clit as he releases his grip on your face to undo his belt.

“ryan.”

“are you gonna behave, angel?”

his voice is almost gentle as he shoves his jeans down just enough to free himself, applying the slightest bit more pressure to your aching clit.

“ryan, please.”

“i said. are you going to behave?”

as he repeats himself he teases your entrance with the head of his cock, grinning at the way your body reacts to such a small gesture.

“i’ll behave.”

you agree desperately, frantically nodding your head in the hopes your answer has satisfied him enough to give you what you want.

“that’s a good girl,”

he groans, pushing into with one motion that has you crying out loud enough you wouldn’t be surprised if someone heard you.

“gonna fuck that attitude right out of you while i’m at it too.”

#manheimsmuse #milo manheim #milo manheim x reader #ryan baker #ryan baker x reader #ryan baker smut #ryan thanksgiving #thanksgiving movie #thanksgiving

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badasbebi · 4 months

Text

not my fault ➛ 1/2

part two

✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader

✦ summary: discovering that a cute girl you saw at your college orientation is your roommate, you become eager to get to know her. however, things quickly go awry when she turns out to be much more difficult to get along with than you could've imagined and abruptly leaves you in the dust. fueled by your terrible experiences with her and rumors about her dating habits, you swear to stay away from her at all costs. will you be able to keep your promise?

✦ genre/au: fluff, my poor attempt at a rom-com, college!au, enemies to lovers, eventual smut, (very slight) roommates to lovers

✦ word count: 11k (im so embarrassed)

✦ warnings: isn't proofread bc this is toooo long. unrealistic portrayal of room-switching in college bc it's never that easy or quick irl. smut in part 2

✦ a/n: part 2 is already finished & will be posted very very soon. so, this is my first time writing a fanfic in like...years. this feels very strange, but i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope someone out there has a lot of fun reading it! also, although this fic doesn't really have anything to do with the lyrics, this song was somewhat inspired by not my fault by renee rapp and megan thee stallion. <3.

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It was the first day of orientation at Seoul University, and you were utterly bored.

You were sitting on a bench outside of the campus auditorium, people-watching as you waited for the opening ceremony to start. It was a hot day with the sun beating down on everyone, prompting an array of glistening foreheads and crinkling water bottles. There was a line of cars in front of you, people getting out with eager smiles and a mischievous glint in their eyes as they stepped onto the concrete, admiring what would be their home for the next four or more years. Your ears were filled with the excited chatter of hundreds of people, meeting new friends and catching up with old ones.

You sat there, the sun warming your skin, looking for something or someone interesting while you waited for orientation to begin.

You watched as a pairing, presumably mother and daughter, pulled up in a sleek car. They got out, and the mother began taking pictures of the daughter. The daughter looked around the campus with a wide grin on her face.

You looked away, taking a sip from your hydroflask. A boy wearing a shirt with your school's mascot. Boring. A congregation of girls who were so obviously here for sorority life, you almost laughed.

A tall, dark-haired woman, with blue highlights, bangs, and thick, black-rimmed glasses, surrounded by a group of people.

You raised an eyebrow. That was interesting.

There were people crowded around her. Guys. Girls. Some, you presumed, were family. They all seemed to have their eyes on her.

You wondered why. As she talked, you studied her.

Her lips were moving, her facial expressions soft and open. Her voice was quiet, though, and you couldn't hear her words. She was pretty, extremely pretty, with luscious lips and a full nose. You liked her eyes the best. They were dark brown, but when the light caught them, they shined.

She had a smile on her face, her head tilted, her hair cascading over her shoulders. It looked like a scene from a movie, her standing there, the wind blowing through her hair, the sun shining on her features.

She was laughing now, at something one of the guys had said. It was nice to watch. It made you feel warm. You smiled.

And then the girl looked at you.

You looked away, trying to pretend like you were not staring. But after a few moments, you stole a glance back. Her eyes were on you, her brow furrowed, a look of confusion on her face.

You blushed, feeling embarrassed. You looked down, staring at your nails.

“Holy shit it’s hot out here. If I pass out, I’m suing the school for child endangerment, because it is absolutely insane that we're still out here. Take your stupid water”

You looked up. Your friend, Lusher, was standing there, her hair frizzy, her makeup done, outstretching her hand to offer you the water bottle you told her to fetch, and dramatically holding her other hand to her forehead.

You laughed, grabbing the water bottle. “Thanks, but I don’t think you can sue them for child endangerment if you’re not a minor, Lush.”

“I may not be a minor, but there are definitely some here. I’m just advocating for them! We need to make sure that children have a voice.”

You laughed, uncapping the bottle and taking a drink.

Lusher plopped down next to you. She looked around, scanning the place as you did. The attractive girl you were previously admiring was still standing there, laughing and chatting with others, people flocking to her like a moth to a flame. So, you did the only logical thing that a woman would do in your position—gossip to your friend about it. You tapped your friend on your shoulder repeatedly. She looked at you, an eyebrow raised.

You nod your head in the direction of the girl, and her eyes follow. You could practically see her mind whirring.

"Well, hello there. Who is that?" Lusher said, wiggling her eyebrow, a smirk on her lips.

"I don't know!" you said, throwing your arms out. "That's what I was gonna ask you."

"Not you already having a crush. It's not even our first day, yet, y/n," Lusher teased.

"Oh shut up," you groaned.

Lusher squinted. "She does actually look a little familiar."

You shifted toward her, excited. "Really? How?"

"Like I've seen her around campus before or something. Or maybe Instagram? I'm not sure."

You nodded, watching as the girl said something, and the group around her laughed. Lusher glanced at you, observing your staring, and laughed.

"What are you even doing you stalker? Go talk to her!" she insisted, nudging your shoulder.

"What!? No. No. Absolutely not. Not happening," you exclaimed, shaking your head and holding your hands up.

"Why not?" Lusher whines.

"Because there are 5,000 people surrounding her, Lush," you said, vaguely pointing at the group of people around her. "I'm not about to compete with that. No, thank you. I'll pass."

"Y/N," she groaned.

"Lusher," you replied, mocking her tone.

She huffed, rolling her eyes. You laughed.

"You're ridiculous," Lusher said.

"Thank you," you responded, a satisfied grin on your face.

You took a final sip of your water and then closed the cap. "Come on. It's almost time to go in."

You grabbed your friend's arm, pulling her up. She grumbled, and you chuckled, walking her toward the auditorium. As you walked away, you felt the gaze of a pair of shiny eyes following you.

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Your mother groans, dropping the last box into the tiny bedroom. "That's the last one. My back is officially fucked."

"Mom, please stop swearing," you say, cringing.

"You swear all the time," she retorts.

"And where do I get that from?" you shoot back.

"You're my child. I can swear in front of you," she responds, ignoring your comment.

"Uh, no. You can't. You're old," you say, picking up one of the boxes and ripping the tape off.

"I prefer the term 'mature'," your mother corrects.

"What about 'ancient?'" you ask, faking seriousness.

She rolls her eyes, grabbing one of your shirts and throwing it at you. You giggle, ducking to the side and letting it fall on the floor. She laughs, and you laugh too, and then you're both giggling uncontrollably. When you're laughing fit is over, you begin taking things out of another box.

The two of you spend the next few hours unpacking and organizing. You are not surprised when your mother decides that she likes her decorating ideas better, and rearranges everything. Finally, the two of you finish, and you step back, admiring the room. Your mom puts her arm around your shoulder.

"I think it looks good. What about you?"

You nod, smiling. "It does."

She sighs, leaning into you, and you wrap your arm around her waist.

"Are you hungry?" she asks, squeezing you tighter.

"Yeah. Starving."

"Good. Because I have some-"

The sound of your door opening cuts her off. You both turn around, and your heart leaps in your throat. Standing in the doorway is the pretty girl from the first day of orientation, wearing cargo pants and a hoodie.

You're too stunned to speak. She's staring at you, and you're staring back. Neither of you says a word.

After what feels like a long time, your mother speaks, her voice filled with curiosity. "Hello? Can we help you?"

The girl's eyes snap to your mother, her eyebrows raising slightly.

"Oh. Uh...hi. I'm sorry. I'm Bada. Your new roommate," the girl, Bada, says, her voice soft and smooth.

"Oh, yes. You are," your mom responds, a wide grin on her face. She extends her arm. "Hi, Bada. I'm Y/N's mom. Nice to meet you."

Bada's eyes widen, and she gives you an almost nervous smile, her gaze flickering between you and your mom. She reaches her hand out and takes your mother's. "Nice to meet you, too, ma'am."

Your mother laughs. "No need to call me ma'am, dear. Please, call me by my name. And please, come in."

Bada hesitates, her gaze shifting to you, as if she's asking for permission. You smile softly, nodding your head, and she returns the gesture, entering the room.

"So, you're Y/N's new roommate. Tell me about yourself," your mother prompts, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall.

Bada's eyes flick back to you, her smile turning awkward. "Um, well, I'm from Incheon, and I'm a freshman. I'm majoring in dance," Bada says, her words sounding rehearsed.

Your mother nods. "Cool. Dance, huh? Do you perform?"

"Oh, um, yeah," Bada shuffles her feet a bit. "Sometimes. I was on the dance team back at my high school."

"Very cool. How's move-in day so far?"

"Good. Yours?"

"Great," your mother responds.

Bada's gaze turns back to you, and you shift, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Your mother seems not to notice, or she does not care.

"Are you here with your parents?" your mother asks.

"Uh, no. Just my mom and sister," Bada responds.

"I see. Where are they?"

"Getting dinner," Bada replies, her voice still soft.

"Ah," your mother says. She glances between the two of you, a knowing look in her eyes. "Well, I suppose I'll leave you two to get to know each other. It was nice meeting you, Bada."

"You too, Mrs. Y/L/N."

"Please, dear, call me by my first name," your mother responds, reaching out and touching Bada's shoulder.

Bada smiles, and then your mother exits the room, leaving the two of you alone.

"Nice meeting you," Bada says, her tone polite.

"Nice meeting you too, Bada," you reply.

A moment passes. The tension is palpable. You can tell she's unsure of what to do, or say.

"Do you, uh, need help bringing your stuff in?" you ask, breaking the silence.

"Oh, no. I'm fine," she responds.

"Okay," you reply.

More silence. Bada is still looking at you, her expression guarded. You clear your throat, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly.

"Is, um, this okay? Am I, uh, being a nuisance or anything?" you ask, choosing to stare at the wall behind her.

"Huh?"

"I mean, I can leave if I'm making you uncomfortable or anything. I don't want to be a bother," you say, shuffling your feet.

"No. No. Not at all," she replies, shaking her head.

"Oh, okay. Good," you respond, smiling.

She does not return the gesture. Her eyes are still on you, and her body is tense. You wonder if she's afraid of you, or something.

"So," you begin, clasping your hands together. "I guess I'll show you to your side of the room, then."

"Oh, um, okay," she replies, her voice still quiet.

"Here. Let me help you with that," you offer, stepping forward and grabbing one of her suitcases.

"No thank you. I've got it," she says, pulling the bag back.

"Okay. Whatever makes you comfortable," you say, letting go.

She drags the suitcase across the floor and sets it on the empty bed.

"I hope you don't mind. I didn't really get much choice in the furniture department. You're lucky you got the bigger bed," you say, laughing nervously.

"No, it's okay. Thank you," she replies, a tight smile on her lips.

"No problem," you respond, rocking back and forth on your heels.

Another moment of awkward silence passes. Bada begins unzipping the suitcase, taking out folded clothes and laying them on her bed.

"Can I, uh, get you anything? Like, some water or snacks or something?"

"No thank you. That's very kind, though," she says, her back turned to you.

"Okay. Cool. If you need anything, let me know. I'm always here," you respond, smiling.

"I'll keep that in mind," she replies, not looking at you.

"Well, okay. I'll just...leave you to it, then," you say, and then turn around and go sit at your desk, deciding not to push her.

You pull your laptop out, placing it on the desk, and log onto the college's wifi. You lean back in your chair, alternating between reading your syllabi and watching as she unloads her belongings. She has a lot of things. Clothes, books, shoes, accessories, makeup. She even has a large speaker system, which is surprising, considering the small dorm.

After a while, Bada stops, having finally finished unpacking. She stretches her arms above her head, revealing a tiny sliver of her stomach and the waistband of her boxers. Your cheeks burn, and you quickly look away.

"Hey, y/n?"

"Hm?" you ask, spinning around.

"Do you know where the bathroom is?" she asks.

"Oh, yeah. It's just down the hall," you reply, pointing to the door.

"Okay. Thank you," she says, standing up and leaving the room.

You sigh, and then get up, going over and plopping down on your bed. You could not get a read on this woman. When you saw her at orientation, she seemed so open, so friendly, so charismatic. But, right now, it was like you were talking to a wall. You couldn't help but feel a bit peeved. You wanted her to at least like you a little bit, or even tolerate you, but she was barely willing to even talk to you.

You shake your head, clearing your thoughts. Maybe she was just tired, or had a bad day. That's probably it. That had to be it. Which, is fine. You were her roommate. You had a year to become friends. You'd be fine.

You pull out your phone, deciding to scroll through social media. After a few minutes, Bada returns and sits on her bed.

"Did you find it?" you ask, not looking up.

"Yep," she replies.

"That's good," you start, sitting up and scooting toward the edge of your bed. "Hey, I was thinking, since we're gonna be roommates and all, we should get to know each other, ya know?"

Bada turns, a blank expression on her face.

"So, dance," you continue. "What's that like?"

Bada's face changes, the guarded look falling away, replaced with an excited smile. "Dancing? Oh, it's wonderful. I've loved dancing for as long as I can remember," Bada gushes, her eyes lighting up. "I've been doing it my whole life. My mom and sister dance, too, actually."

You grin, her excitement contagious. "That's great. How many of you are dancers?"

"Just the three of us. Me, my mom, and my sister. Well, actually, my mom is retired now, and she's teaching classes at the studio," Bada continues, her smile growing wider.

"That's amazing," you respond, leaning forward. "Do you all perform together?"

"All the time. My mom owns a studio, and she teaches there. We teach classes and choreograph, and then, when we have enough students, we'll have shows," Bada answers, her voice becoming softer, and less animated.

"That sounds really cool. Do you, like, teach little kids and stuff?"

"Oh, no. Not really. I mean, we do, but only if a student's parents ask. Our main audience is teens, and adults," she explains.

"Wow," you say, nodding. "That's awesome. I can't imagine what that's like."

"It's a lot of fun," Bada replies, her eyes sparkling.

"What about your dad? Is he a dancer, too?"

"My father's not in the picture," Bada says, her eyes dimming a bit.

"Oh, uh, I'm sorry," you mumble, suddenly feeling awkward.

"It's alright," Bada responds, her tone flat.

"Well, anyway, that's cool," you say, changing the subject. "What's the studio like?"

"It's really nice. We have a small space, but it's cozy," she says, her eyes regaining some of their previous luster. "We've got a lot of mirrors and equipment, and the lights are low."

"Really? God, what you do sounds so cool."

"You think so?" Bada asks, her eyebrows raised.

"Totally. I'm kinda jealous," you admit.

"Thanks. It's nice to hear someone say that," she replies, grinning.

"Anytime," you say, returning the gesture.

The two of you lapse into a comfortable silence, and you lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

Suddenly, your phone pings, and you glance at the screen. It's a text message from Lusher.

Lush: hey u ready for ur first college party???

Y/N: no lol i'm exhausted from setting up.

Lush: oh come on. im trying to meet some cute guys here. dont make me go alone

Y/N: haha i'm gonna stay in tonight. maybe tomorrow or next weekend

Lush: boo. well, the invitation is always open. if u change ur mind, come find me.

Y/N: ok will do. ttyl

"Is that your mom?" Bada asks, interrupting your thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Your phone," she clarifies, motioning to the device in your hand.

"Oh, no, just a friend from high school, Lusher. She goes here," you explain, sliding your phone onto your bedside table. "She was trying to invite me to a party to scout out the scene for boys."

"Ah," Bada replies, turning her attention back to her side of the room.

"But there's no way I'm going tonight. I'm way too tired after all of that packing," you continue, lying down.

"Understandable," Bada replies, not looking at you.

"So, I'm pretty hungry? Wanna go to the dining hall and get some food, or something?" you ask.

"No thank you. I think I'm just going to take a nap," she says, scooting under her covers and turning her body toward the wall.

"Oh, okay. Alright," you say, feeling a bit disappointed.

It seems like you are back to square one. You sigh, and then turn around, facing the wall. This was going to be a long year. You reach for your headphones, plugging them into your phone, and put on a playlist, trying to ignore the slight ache in your chest. You were not sure why, but, for some reason, it hurt. You shake your head, pushing the feeling down. No, you were not upset. You were not going to be upset. Everything was going to be fine with time. You stand up, grabbing your backpack, and then exit the room, closing the door quietly behind you. The least you could do was give her some privacy. Maybe she needed some time to adjust to sharing a room with someone.

You enter the elevator, pressing the button for the ground floor, and try to clear your head. No. Things would get better. She would warm up. You just needed to be patient. The elevator dings, and the doors open, and you step out, walking toward the cafeteria. You just needed to wait. She would come around. You were sure of it.

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Your alarm blares loudly. You groan, rolling over and snoozing it. The sun is barely up. You feel like a zombie.

You reach over and grab your phone. 7:30 am. Time for a run.

You slowly slide out of bed, wincing at the cold floor. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you glance around the room. It looks exactly the same, except for the fact that your roommate is gone.

You yawn, stretching, and then walk over to her bed. The sheets are perfectly tucked, the pillows arranged neatly, and the blanket is smoothed out. She must have made her bed before leaving. You frown.

"I wonder what time she wakes up," you murmur, running a hand over the blanket.

You throw on some clothes, put your earbuds in, and stretch, before leaving the room.

As you walk through the hallway, your thoughts are still hazy with sleep. You have never been a morning person. But, running helps.

You take the elevator down to the lobby, and then exit the building, jogging onto the sidewalk. A cool breeze whips your hair around. You shiver, pulling the drawstrings of your hoodie tight. After a few minutes, you find a nice rhythm, your breathing steadying, the music calming your nerves. You pass the same few people, most of them in a similar state as you. Groggy. Disheveled. Exhausted. After 30 minutes, you start feeling warm. Your heart is pounding, and your chest is heaving. You slow to a walk, and then stop, resting against a tree.

You close your eyes and listen to the birds, the leaves, the wind. It's nice. Calming.

"Y/n?" a familiar voice asks.

Your eyes snap open, and you turn. A woman is standing there, a shocked look on her face.

Oh no, you think, once you realize who it is."Aiki?"

"Woah, I knew it was you," Aiki says, her eyes wide.

"Yeah," you chuckle awkwardly, scratching the back of your neck.

"What are you doing here?" Aiki asks, her mouth hanging open.

"I go here now. I'm a student. I have clases here," you overexplain

"Wow, okay," Aiki says, taking a breath. "So, how have you been? What are you studying? What's been going on with you? God, y/n, it's been forever."

"Yeah, it has. Um, I've been good. Just, ya know, moving and stuff so far. Haven't declared a major yet, though," you respond, feeling taken aback by her excitement.

"I see. Well, I actually have to go, but we should totally hang out. Maybe have coffee sometime, or something. Catch up," Aiki suggests, her eyes sparkling.

"Sure, yeah, that sounds great," you say, nodding.

"Cool, well, I'll see you around," Aiki says, a smirk on her face.

"See ya," you reply, waving as she turns and jogs off.

You stare after her, a strange feeling in your stomach. You had not seen Aiki since junior year of high school, when the two of you were forced to go on a trip with the rest of your class. During that week, the two of you became close, and, by the end, you were basically inseparable. The two of you spent the entire week attached at the hip, going sightseeing, exploring, and, on the last night, you even kissed her. It was a perfect week. And then, after the trip was over, you never spoke again. She transferred schools, and the two of you lost contact. And now, here she is, back in your life.

You shake your head, chuckling softly. It is almost too much. First, your hot roommate, and now, Aiki. The universe is messing with you.

You start walking again, continuing your route. You run for another hour, the sun now fully risen. Your skin is glowing with sweat, and you can't help but smile. You are feeling great.

You stop by the showers, washing up, and then head to the cafeteria. The line is long, and, despite the early hour, it is packed. You grab a tray, loading it with eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, and a glass of orange juice.

"Oh my god, save some for the rest of us," a voice exclaims from behind you.

You turn, startled, finding Lusher behind you, grinning.

"Jesus, Lush, you scared me," you say, shaking your head.

"Sorry, didn't mean to, but seriously, I'm starving. Move faster," she complains, her eyes falling to your full plate.

"What are you even doing here so early? It's Saturday. You're never up at this time," you question, raising an eyebrow.

"The beds here suck. Couldn't stay asleep."

"So, you just came here?"

"Duh. They have free breakfast," she responds, her eyes wide.

"Right," you reply, not convinced.

"I'm serious. Besides, it's not like there's anything else to do this early on a Saturday," she adds.

"Okay, whatever," you say, rolling your eyes.

"So, how was the rest of the move-in? Is your roomate cool?" Lusher questions.

"Actually," you begin. "You'd never guess who my roommate is."

"Who?" she prompts.

"The hot girl I saw at orientation."

"No. Shut. Up," she responds, her eyes widening.

"I'm not kidding. Her name is Bada. She's a dance major."

"Holy shit, no wonder she looked familiar when I saw her. I think I've seen her around dance competitions and showcases."

"You have?"

"Yeah, a few times. She's really good. Damn," Lusher says, shaking her head.

"Well, I wish she'd open up more," you say, frowning.

"Why? Is she mean or something?"

"No, I mean, I'm not sure. She's kind of quiet. I'm not really sure how to describe it. She's not super friendly or anything, and we haven't talked a lot," you respond.

"Hmm, that's weird. I have a few dance friends who've interacted with her before. From what I've been told she's super nice."

"I guess. Anyway, she's not really interested in being my friend, which is fine. But, it's weird, 'cause it seems like she's super popular. She knows a ton of people. I don't get why she's so weird around me."

"Maybe she's nervous or something. I mean, you're kinda cute, after all."

"Shut up, no, I'm not," you deny, rolling your eyes.

"Whatever you say, y/n," Lusher smirks.

"You're crazy," you mutter, grabbing a juice box.

"Well, I hope you can change her mind. She's definitely cute."

"Thanks, Lush," you respond, not really meaning it.

The two of you grab seats near the windows. The food is mediocre, but your stomach is full and that's all that matters. You spend the next few hours chatting with Lusher about school, classes, and other things. Deciding you've had enough of the dining hall, you take Lusher to your dorm room, wanting to show her what your side of the room looks like. However, as soon as you open the door, you are met with the sight of Bada's side of the room-empty side of the room. Her bed is still perfectly made, and her closet is shut tight, and the desk is cleared off. Her things are gone, as if she was never there.

"What the hell?" you mutter, your eyes darting around the room.

"What's going on?" Lusher says, peering over your shoulder from the hallway.

"My roommate," you start.

"Bada, right?"

"Yeah. All her stuff is gone. Did she transfer or something?"

"Wait, what? Let me see," Lusher says, squeezing into the room and past you.

She scans the room, her eyebrows furrowed. "Are you sure you weren't hallucinating her? Or having a strange wet dream?"

"Shut up. I'm serious. Look. Her bed is still made, and her side of the closet is completely empty," you insist, pointing.

"Well, maybe she's at class or something. Are you sure she's not just hanging out somewhere?"

"Why would she be? Class doesn't start for a couple days. And why would all of her stuff be gone?"

"Maybe she's one of those crazy studious types who starts early. And she has a very meticulous study routine that requires her room to be completely rid of stuff." Lusher suggests, shrugging.

"Who in the world would do all of that?"

"Someone who's organized. Maybe a person with OCD? A really anal-retentive neat freak?"

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

"Hey, you asked," Lusher says, throwing her hands up in defense.

You're about to curse at her, when your phone vibrates. It's a text from the college housing office.

"What is it?" Lusher asks.

"It's from the housing office. They want to see me about a roommate complaint," you read aloud, frowning.

"Roomate complaint? That's weird. Why would they call you instead of her?"

"Maybe they're not able to get a hold of her. I don't know. I'm not sure," you say, scrolling through the message.

"Well, whatever, go find out. We can talk more later."

"You're not coming?"

"No, I'm tired. Gotta catch some Z's. Go figure this out."

"Fine. I'll talk to you later, then."

"Later, loser," she responds, before walking away.

You sigh and exit the building, beginning your walk to the housing office.

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"Hello? Anyone here?" you call, stepping inside.

"Ah, hello," a voice responds.

A man walks up, an overly friendly smile on his face. He extends his hand, initiating a handshake.

"Hi. I'm y/n," you start, shaking his hand. "I received a message saying you wanted to talk to me about a roommate complaint?"

He nods. "Yes, yes, of course. Please, follow me."

He gestures to a door, and you follow him into a small office. He motions for you to sit down, and you do, the chair squeaking loudly.

"Now, let's see," he begins, studying a piece of paper. "You're living in the new dorms, correct?"

"Yup," you confirm. "The one with the fancy bathrooms."

"Right, yes. So, your roommate is a Ms. Bada Lee?"

"Yes, that's her."

He sighs, letting the paper fall onto his desk. Clasping his hands together, he asks, "And, is there a problem between the two of you?"

You shift in your seat, suddenly uncomfortable."I mean, not really. I haven't seen her since Friday morning. Why do you ask?"

The man clears his throat. "We received a notice from her this morning, stating that she no longer wanted to reside in her dorm with you. She requested a room transfer and had all her things moved out into another room."

Your heart sank. This had to be a joke

"I'm sorry, but...what? Why? Why would she do that? I barely know her," you protest, shaking your head.

"Unfortunately, the decision has already been made, and the paperwork has been processed," the man replies, a sympathetic look on his face.

"But, this doesn't make any sense," you insist, leaning forward in your seat. "I haven't done anything wrong."

"I'm afraid the reasons are confidential, as is standard practice. All I can tell you is that the decision was made by the student, and we must abide by it."

You fall back in your chair, scowling. "This isn't right."

"I apologize, Ms. y/n, but there's nothing we can do. I'll inform the RA's and staff to expect you for a new room assignment. You likely won't get a new roommate until next semester, though. Otherwise, we're done here. "

"Alright, thank you," you mutter, standing up and heading to the door.

"Thank you for your cooperation," he calls.

You slam the door and storm off, furious. This is complete bullshit. What could you have done yesterday that was so bad that Bada would request a room change and make a complaint?

As you walk back to the dorm, a thousand thoughts race through your head. Were you too loud the first night? Too pushy? Did you say something offensive or insult her?

You rack your brain, trying to remember if you said or did anything wrong, but nothing comes to mind. There was the one moment when you asked about her father, and she seemed a bit upset, but was that really it? Surely she couldn't have built resentment for you after that one, small slip-up. You even apologized to her.

Maybe she just thought you were annoying? You're as confused as ever, and, pissed off. Whatever the issue was, there was no way it was significant enough for her to go directly to the housing office. She could have spoken to you about it, and you could have worked something out but didn't give you the chance. From the moment you met her, she didn't give you a chance. And now you probably have some sort of criminal-esque record with the housing office because of it. Great.

When you arrive back at the dorm, you go straight to your bed, laying down and burying your face into the pillows.

"God damnit," you mumble, your frustration overwhelming.

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The rest of the day was relatively uneventful, with you alternating between fuming, moping, and ranting to Lusher about the incident with Bada. The more you thought about it, the more irritated you felt. Why did such a sexy person have to suck so bad?

Despite the annoyance, you decided not to focus on the issue, opting instead to hang out with Lusher and your other friends. By Sunday night, however, your emotions had shifted back to sadness, and you were once again moping about the incident.

Before you knew it, it was Monday morning, and time for classes. You were excited, yet anxious, about the beginning of the school year. Despite the rocky start, you were determined to make the most of it.

Currently, you're in your last class of the day, bored out of your mind. You're supposed to be taking notes, but your professor lost your attention halfway through the lecture. You fix your gaze on the window, where raindrops are running down the glass. It was cloudy and grey outside, and you could see a flash of lightning in the distance.

"And that concludes our lesson. Don't forget to check your emails because I will be sending you a reading assignment. Class dismissed."

The sound of people packing up their things and moving around causes you to snap out of your trance. You quickly gather your own materials and head out the door.

On the way back to the dorm, the sky opens up, and it starts pouring. You pick up the pace, wanting to avoid getting soaked. As you approach the entrance to your building, you slow down, spotting Bada walking toward you. She looks just as unhappy to be out in the rain as you are, her arms wrapped tightly around her torso, her hood hanging over her face.

Uh oh, you think, not expecting to see her.

"Um, hi," you stammer, attempting to appear friendly.

She stops in her tracks, eyeing you cautiously. "Uh, hey," she says, her tone cold.

You cross your arms. "So, um, how's your day been?"

"Fine," she replies curtly.

"Cool," you reply. "Enjoying your new room?"

"It's okay," she says, shrugging.

"That's nice," you respond, not sounding sincere.

An uncomfortable, but at this point, familiar, silence follows. You couldn't believe she wasn't taking this as an opportunity to apologize or explain what happened. If she weren't so tall and admittedly intimidating, you'd do something petty, like snatch the hood off of her head. Or pin her down until she fesses up. Or throw something at her pretty face to remind her that—yes, you are hot, but that doesn't mean you can escape consequences! But you're too gracious and realistic to do any of that, so you take the peaceful (though painful) route.

"Well, I should get inside, I don't want to get too wet," you state.

"Okay, yeah," she replies, giving you a curt nod.

"Uh, have a good day," you say, turning around and heading toward the door.

"Thanks, you too," she calls out.

She walks past you, and you can't help but turn around, watching her retreating figure. "What a weirdo," you mutter under your breath, heading up the stairs.

You hurry into the building, letting out a breath you didn't realize you were holding.

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Three months into the semester, you begin to hear Bada's name everywhere. Apparently, within the short time period, she's taken your school's dance team far and has gained quite a bit of attention for it. You're not surprised, given her athletic build and seemingly graceful demeanor. However, this has come with a price, and now, wherever you go, she seems to be there, her presence almost a constant. Similarly to when you first saw her at orientation, many people flock to her, and you hear a number of girls gossiping about how cool and attractive she is. With that, you begin to hear the rumors.

You've heard a lot of things about Bada, some good and some not-so-good. For example, you've heard that she's an excellent dancer and extremely talented. She's also very outgoing, sweet, and has a large group of friends. On the other hand, it seems as if she's built up a reputation for herself. You've heard people calling her a player and a flirt. Others have claimed that she sleeps with women just for fun, never sticking with anyone for too long.

You aren't sure what to believe, but you do know that your opinion of her is low. You still have no idea why she changed rooms and never gave you a straight answer, despite the numerous attempts you've made. In the beginning, you'd attempt to strike up conversations and casually ask her about it, but she would either ignore you or give you a short, vague response. You eventually stopped asking, knowing it was futile. Even when the two of you pass each other in the hallway, her eyes never meet yours, and you swear you can feel the disdain radiating from her.

But it's impossible to completely ignore her because, again, she is loved by many. To make matters worse, Lusher joined the dance team. Meaning, every time you visit Lusher during practice, Bada's there. Lusher tells you that she's a great teammate, but you aren't so sure. After all, you've only spoken a handful of words to her, and they haven't been particularly welcoming.

It's one of those days when you find yourself sitting on the bleachers, observing the dance team. You've come to watch Lusher, and you have to admit, the other dancers are amazing. However, your eyes always drift back to Bada. As much as you try to stop it, you can't help it. She's just so...stunning. She's wearing a tank top, showing off her arms, and baggy pants. Her hair is tied back in a bun, accentuating her features, and she has a serious, focused expression on her face.

You bite your lip, watching as she moves across the floor, her body flowing with the music. It's like she's gliding, and it's mesmerizing. You've never seen someone dance with such strength and power. You've been a fan of dance for a while, and you've never seen anything like it.

As the song comes to an end, everyone strikes a final pose. You watch Bada, her chest heaving, a thin layer of sweat on her forehead.

You grab your water bottle, suddenly thirsty, and take a drink. You're still staring at her, and she glances in your direction. Shit.

You look away, hoping she didn't notice you watching her.

Lusher unfreezes herself from her ending pose and immediately comes running up to you.

"So, what did you think? Wasn't that awesome?" she asks, excitement evident on her face.

"Yeah, it was great. You guys were incredible," you compliment.

"Aw, thanks," Lusher beams. "You should come to more of our practices. They're a lot of fun."

"Yeah, maybe," you agree, noncommittally.

"Actually, do you mind coming to the locker room with me? I need to change, and we can grab something to eat afterward."

"Yeah, sure," you agree.

Lusher gives you a big hug, causing you to laugh. "Thanks, y/n," she smiles.

You follow her into the locker room, and she changes out of her sweaty clothes. You lean against the wall, tapping away on your phone.

"You can look, y/n, I'm not shy," Lusher teases, her shirt pulled up and bra strap undone.

"I know, but, I don't want to be a pervert," you giggle.

Lusher laughs. "You already are one, and I've accepted that fact a long time ago."

You pick up one of her spare pants, throwing at her.

"Hey!" she cries, feigning annoyance.

You smirk. "Sorry."

She rolls her eyes. "I forgive you."

You glance around the room, taking in your surroundings. You've never been in here before, and it's kind of fascinating.

"Where's the bathroom in here?" you ask.

"Down the hall, to the left," she informs.

"Alright, I'm gonna go pee," you announce.

"Okay," she says, not looking away from her locker.

"Be right back," you call, exiting the room.

You walk down the hall and open the bathroom door, making your way inside. You go to the first stall, shutting the door behind you. You take care of business, and as you're finishing up, you hear the sound of footsteps, and voices, entering the room.

Not paying them much mind, you flush the toilet, standing up and zipping your pants. Until you here something that freezes you in your spot.

"Lusher's friend is pretty cute. Your type," a voice says.

"I guess," another, deeper, voice responds.

"Don't be so indifferent, Bada, she is pretty hot," the first voice chides.

"She's alright," Bada says, nonchalantly.

"Why not? It's not like she'd say no," the first voice presses.

"I'm not really interested, Tatter. She's good-looking but, I'm not attracted to her. At all. Not worth my time." Bada says.

You're stunned.

"Really?" Tatter asks.

"Yes. Really." Bada says, firmly.

You feel a rush of anger. She has every right to not find you attractive, but you can't help feeling insulted. Did she have to be so adamant about it?

"Well, damn," Tatter chuckles.

"Sorry to burst your bubble," Bada shrugs.

"No, it's cool," Tatter assures.

"Let's head out, the others are waiting for us," Bada suggests.

"Yeah, sure," Tatter agrees.

Their voices fade away, and their footsteps become more distant. You step out of the stall, making your way toward the sink. You glance at your reflection in the mirror. You look tired and upset because, well you are.

The more you think about it, the more things start to make sense. No wonder why Bada has been so aloof and unfriendly with you. She didn't find you attractive, and henceforth decided that you weren't 'worth her time.' But what kind of shallow thinking was that? You had plenty of things to offer. Your personality, wit, intelligence, humor, and a bunch of other things. So, what did it matter if she found you physically attractive?

You splash some water on your face, trying to wash away your frustration.

It's settled. You didn't want anything to do with her. She had no right to dismiss you, and, as a result, you didn't have to treat her nicely, either. Two can play that game.

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You managed to go the rest of the school year without interacting with Bada. You saw her in passing and heard her name plenty of times, but you largely succeeded in your efforts to avoid her. For the most part, you didn't even think about her. Except, of course, when you got your new roommate after winter break, who was much friendlier, but ridiculously messy and, to be quite frank, annoying. Although this turn-out was not directly Bada's fault, throughout your 2nd semester you laid awake at night, cursing the tall sexy mean woman, as your roommate blasted Bhad Bhabie songs into the early hours of the morning.

It's a new year now, though. And luckily, you do not have to worry about roommate troubles, because you you've gotten an apartment with Lusher. It's tiny and run-down, but incredibly close to campus, and after the issues you had your first year, you're just grateful that you're rooming with someone you actually get along with.

Knowing that, you're excited to see what your second year will bring you. You walk to your first class of the day, which is, unfortunately, an 8 a.m. English class.

You make it to the classroom, finding an open seat near the middle. You sit down, pulling out a notebook and pen.

As the seats fill, the professor begins his lecture, and the class starts.

However, about ten minutes into class, the door opens, and someone walks in. You look up, and your heart drops.

Bada is standing in the doorway, her expression unreadable.

"So sorry to interrupt. I'm late," she says.

"It's okay, take a seat. We're just starting," the professor replies.

Bada's eyes scan the room, and when she spots you, she frowns. You look away, pretending like you didn't notice.

She continues to stand there, looking uncomfortable, before she decides to walk further into the classroom. The professor stops talking and looks at her.

"Do you have a seat yet?" he asks.

"Uh, not yet," Bada stutters.

"Take a seat anywhere, we're getting started," the professor responds, continuing his lecture.

You hear the sound of footsteps approaching, and when you look back, Bada is walking towards the empty seat next to you. She sits down, dropping her backpack, and your heart races.

"Can I borrow a pen?" she asks, her voice soft.

"Sure," you mumble, handing her a pen.

"Thanks," she mutters, writing something down.

Your heart is beating out of your chest. She's sitting next to you. Why is she sitting next to you? Is she doing this on purpose? Maybe she has some sort of vendetta against you. You're not sure.

You try your best to focus on the professor, but it's difficult. You can't help but stare at Bada, your eyes drifting down her body. You take in her attire. She's wearing a white t-shirt, a pair of baggy jeans, and a cap. Despite the simplicity of it, she looks phenomenal. It makes you want to scream.

As the professor goes on, Bada takes notes, seeming completely invested in the lecture, and you almost scoff. Who was she trying to fool?

Once the lecture ends, you quickly pack up your stuff and rush out of the room, eager to put some distance between the two of you.

"Okay," your professor begins, clapping his hands. "If you look at the syllabus, you'll see that a big portion of your grade in this class is determined by your final project. This is a research-based assignment, and will require extensive library work. I've randomly assigned you partners to help you out, so, if you'd like, feel free to move around and meet your partners once I call out your names."

A group project? Great. Those always went well. Who was the sorry excuse for a partner you were going to—

"Y/n y/l/n and Bada Lee."

Fuck.

You feel sick. What the hell is this?

You look around the room, frantically, hoping to see someone who shares the same name. Alas, no such luck.

You see Bada shift in her seat, turning toward you, and you try your best to conceal your irritation.

"Hi," she says, quietly.

"Hey," you reply, coolly.

"I guess we're partners, huh?" she asks, a small smile on her face.

"Yep, looks like it," you respond.

"I'm, um, sorry for being late today. I had a meeting with a counselor," she explains.

"I'm not the professor, Bada. I don't care."

Bada seems taken aback by your harsh response.

"Right, um, okay."

"So, uh, do you have any ideas for the final project? I've thought of a few things," she continues.

"I haven't given it much thought," you lie, knowing that you'd spent the majority of last night planning and organizing your entire project.

"Oh," she says, disappointed. "That's okay, we can talk about it some more."

"Sure," you shrug, standing up and grabbing your stuff. "I've got to get to my next class, so, I'll see you later."

You quickly pack up your items and rush out of the room, eager to put some distance between the two of you.

"Y/n, wait!"

You freeze.

"Your phone number," Bada says, jogging up behind you.

You turn around, eyeing her cautiously. "What?"

"Your phone number, so we can communicate," she clarifies, her tone a little more stern than it was a few seconds ago.

"Right," you mutter, fishing your phone out of your pocket and giving her your number.

"Awesome, thanks. I'll text you," she smiles, and then, to your surprise, she turns around and walks away.

You watch her leave, still confused. What just happened?

The next few days pass uneventfully, and you've been avoiding Bada like the plague. It's not difficult, given that the two of you only share one class together and remain silent the entire time. Truthfully, you weren't expecting to get anything out of Bada for this project. As soon as the professor called her name, you were resigned to the fact that you'd probably have to carry out this project yourself. Between dance and the apparent trail of girls that Bada has to deal with on a daily basis, there was no way she'd make time for it.

As a result, you were shocked when, after a week had passed you received a text message from an unknown number.

Unknown: hi! it's Bada. do you have a chance to meet up sometime? i have a few ideas for the project and wanted to talk to you about it.

You're not sure how to respond. This is the last thing you expected from her.

"Who are you texting?" Lusher asks, suddenly appearing beside you.

"What?" you ask, locking your phone.

"I was asking if you'd be home later, but you're clearly too busy texting someone to listen," Lusher laughs.

"No, I'm listening," you insist.

"Then, who are you texting?" she presses, curiously.

"No one. Just a girl," you reply.

Lusher wiggles her eyebrows. "I knew it," she giggles.

"Shut up," you laugh, smacking her arm. "It's not like that."

"Whatever you say," she teases, grabbing her jacket and slipping on her shoes.

"Are you leaving?" you ask.

"Yeah, I'm gonna go study with a few people. You coming?"

You shake your head. "No, I think I'm just gonna stay here."

"Alright, I'll see you later then," she says, waving and exiting the apartment.

You sigh, flopping down on the couch and staring up at the ceiling. You're not sure how long you lay there, but the sound of your phone vibrating snaps you out of your daze.

You grab your phone, checking your messages.

Unknown: this is y/n, right?

"Shit," you mutter, realizing that you forgot to respond.

You: Hi, sorry, it is. I got busy. Um, yeah, I have time tomorrow if you're free.

Bada: i'm available after 5 tomorrow. meet me at the library? 3rd floor?

You: Okay, sounds good.

Bada: great! see you then.

"Fuck," you whisper, tossing your phone onto the couch.

This is going to be a horrible year.

The next day, you find yourself walking into the library, coffee in hand. You check your phone, noticing that it's already 5:30 p.m.

"Crap," you whisper, picking up your pace.

You finally make it to the third floor, scanning the room for Bada. To your surprise, you spot her immediately, sitting alone at a table in the corner.

"Sorry, I'm late," you apologize, speed-walking over to her.

"It's okay," she smiles.

You pull out a chair and sit down, feeling awkward.

"So," you begin. "How are you?"

"Good," she says, quietly. She glances at your coffee cup, a frown on her face, before looking down at the items scattered across the table.

You furrow your eyebrows, looking at the array of items in front of you. Bada's textbooks, her backpack, her phone. Two coffee cups.

"Wait," you say, realization hitting you.

"Yeah?" she asks, looking up.

"You bought me a coffee?" you state, the words sounding dumb as they come out of your mouth.

She blinks. "No."

"But, there are two coffee cups," you point out, feeling more and more confused.

"It's fine, you already bought one," she rushes out, sliding one of the coffee cups farther away from you.

"Wait, no! It's okay. I'll take it."

She stops. "Really?"

"Yeah," you nod, reaching out and grabbing the cup. "Thank you."

"Of course," she shrugs, looking embarrassed.

You pick up the cup, analyzing it, wondering if she put any poison in it. Unfortunately, you are not a chemist, and cannot decipher the contents of the beverage, so, you opt for the safer route and place the cup back down on the table.

"Did you have an idea for the project?" she asks.

"I did," you nod.

"What is it?"

"I was thinking that we could write an article. One of the prompts that was on the syllabus is an exposé, and I figured that it'd be easy to do a deep dive into the school's athletic program."

"Huh, that's interesting," she replies, a thoughtful look on her face.

"Interesting, good or interesting, bad?"

"Interesting, good. I like the idea. How far did you want to go into detail with it?"

"Well, I was hoping we could focus on the women's athletic department. Have you heard anything about them?" you ask.

"A lot. I hear my friends complain a lot," she says.

"About what?"

"So much. The coaches are demanding and strict and don't give the players don't get enough breaks. They don't get as much funding as the men's athletic program, either."

Disappointing but not surprising. "Is there a particular sport or athlete that stands out to you?"

"Um," she starts, a slight blush covering her cheeks.

"Yes?"

"I know a couple of basketball players. The captain, Doyeon, is really good, and I talk to her a lot. She'd probably be willing to help us out. They have a big game coming up, and their coach is going crazy because the school isn't giving them as much access to facilities as they did for the men's team. The basketball players were forced to practice outside, and the coaches are furious."

You can't hide your shock at this. Although you knew the women's team had it rough, you didn't realize there was so much drama happening behind the scenes. "Wow, that's...a mess. Did you want to talk to her about it? I'd love to meet her and get her perspective."

"Yes, definitely," she nods. "They should be practicing tomorrow. We can go watch them and interview her after. Would that work?"

"Sounds good," you agree, mentally making a note to cancel your plans tomorrow. You raise your coffee cup to your lips, momentarily forgetting about the possible dangers, and take a sip. The moment the liquid touches your tongue, you are hit with a profusion of tastiness. It's sweet and delicious and everything you could have ever dreamed of. It's exactly the type of drink you'd order yourself. You glance over at Bada, seeing her watching you nervously, and decide to speak up.

"This is really good," you praise, taking another sip.

She smiles. "You like caramel lattes, right?" she asks.

"Um, yes," you respond, confused. "How'd you know that?"

"Just, um, a lucky guess," she replies awkwardly, avoiding eye contact.

You raise an eyebrow at this. Crap, you think. She must've put some sort of poison in here that mimics the taste of your favorite coffee flavor. You're screwed, but it's too late. You might as well enjoy the coffee. You take one last sip, savoring the flavor, then set it down.

"Alright, well, I have some notes I want to go over, if that's alright," you say, pulling out your laptop.

"Okay," she replies, also taking out her laptop.

The two of you spend the next hour discussing the project, both of you getting lost in your own thoughts. By the time you're done, it's nearly eight o'clock, and the sun is setting.

"We should probably head back now," you state, packing up your items.

"Yeah, we should," she agrees, standing up.

The two of you walk out of the library, the campus quiet and dark.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she says, walking toward her car.

"Yep," you reply, waving and heading towards yours.

Once inside, you turn on the car, blasting the air conditioning. You turn on the radio, trying to distract yourself from the heat outside.

"And in other news, the women's basketball team is still having trouble securing proper facilities. According to sources close to the team, the coach is frustrated and the players are exhausted.

"In other sports news, the football team is preparing for its season-opener against their rivals, the..."

You groan, turning off the radio and focusing on the road. Your stomach growls, and you realize that you haven't eaten anything since lunch. You consider stopping somewhere, but decide against it. You'll just eat when you get back to the apartment.

As you drive home, you think about the last few hours you spent with Bada. She was...interesting, to say the least. Today, she seemed more responsive to you than she had previously. In the past, she had mostly ignored you, rarely speaking to you unless necessary. Today, though, she'd been engaging and helpful. Perhaps, it was just because she cared about getting a good grade on this project. Once it's over, she'll probably return to her normal, snide self. That was okay with you, though. As long as she was cooperative while you worked on the project, you couldn't care less what she thinks of you or how she treats you afterward.

You park your car, heading up the stairs to the apartment, your mind wandering. Despite your best efforts, Bada is starting to worm her way into your head. It's stupid. You're being ridiculous.

This was going to be a long semester.

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"I think I'm going to fall asleep."

Bada turns to you, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, please. You've never seen the game before. This is just the warm-up."

You glare at her. "It's been two hours," you point out.

"Yes, and the game hasn't even started yet," she says, matter-of-factly.

"I hate you," you grumble, crossing your arms.

"You know you're the one who suggested we research a sports team, right?"

"Shut up," you mutter, glaring at her.

The two of you have been sitting in uncomfortable plastic chairs for the past two hours, observing the team's practice as they ran around an outdoor basketball court under the sweltering heat. Bada was not lying about the terrible working conditions these women were put under. You didn't understand how they had the ability to exercise in these circumstances. You were dying.

"I need a break," you declare, standing up and stretching.

"No, no, no, no. Sit," she demands, pulling on your wrist and dragging you back into your seat.

"Let me go!" you yell, struggling against her grip. Why the hell was this woman so strong? For christ's sake, she was a dancer, not a wrestler.

"Not until the end of the game," she states, gripping tighter.

"This isn't fair!"

"Life isn't fair," she retorts.

"You're such a bitch," you seethe, finally ripping your arm from her grasp.

"So, I've been told."

"Why are we here again?" you ask, slumping in your seat.

"Look, just try to pay attention. I'll buy you a smoothie if you stay focused," she offers.

"Deal," you say, straightening your posture and turning to watch the practice.

"And now, the final play," the coach yells, blowing a whistle.

The team scatters, moving to their positions. Doyeon, the captain, dribbles the ball down the court, passing it to another girl, who moves closer to the net. Just as she's about to shoot, the girl trips, sending the ball spiraling out of her hands and in your direction. You gasp, scrambling out of the way, but you're not fast enough. The ball hits you square in the face, causing you to yelp as you fall backward in your chair.

"Fuck," you whine, holding your hand to your face.

"Oh, shit, are you okay?" Bada asks, kneeling down next to you.

"Do I look okay you goofball?!" you shout, removing your hand to reveal a bloodied nose.

"Ooh, ouch," she cringes.

"Are you okay?" a different voice asks, and you look up to see the woman who had tripped approaching the two of you.

"I'm fine," you mumble, feeling embarrassed.

"I'm really sorry," she apologizes, bowing her head.

"It's fine," you shrug, standing up.

"You should come see the nurse," Bada says.

"No, I'll be fine. It's not that bad," you insist, wiping away the blood.

"Are you sure?" the basketball player asks.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. It's not the first time this has happened," you explain, trying to alleviate her concern.

"What?" Bada chokes.

"Please don't ask," you sigh.

"Okay, well, I should get back," the girl says, gesturing toward the court.

"Of course. Go kick ass," you cheer, smiling.

"Thanks," she grins, running back onto the court.

You and Bada watch the girl's retreating figure. Bada then turns to you, a look of concern on her face.

"Okay, come on. Let's get you cleaned up," Bada instructs, pulling on your wrist and leading you towards to one of the entrances into the building.

"Where are we going?"

"The locker rooms," she states.

"What? No, no, no, no," you protest, planting your feet and resisting her.

"I'm not letting you sit here while your nose bleeds. Besides, the girls have to go in there eventually. We'll interview Doyeon once she comes in." she explains.

"But—"

"Who cares? Come on, let's go," she urges, tugging on your arm.

"Fine," you concede, allowing her to drag you through the building.

Once inside the locker room, Bada leads you to a sink and forces you to stand still.

"Hold still," she commands, grabbing a paper towel and wetting it.

"What are you doing?" you ask.

"Cleaning up the blood," she responds, bringing the towel to your nose.

"Don't!" you hiss, swatting her hand away.

"You have to," she argues.

"No, I don't. I can do it myself," you retort.

"Just let me do it," she whines. "I've had to do stuff like this more times that I can count. I'm basically a professional."

"What? You having to clean up your own bloody noses? Why? Because of the amount of times you've gotten slapped in the face?"

"Hey!" she pouts.

"Well, are you going to answer the question or not?"

"Dance injuries. Now, will you let me help you?"

"Ugh, fine," you groan, rolling your eyes.

She brings the towel to your nose, gently dabbing the blood away. Her hand brushes against your cheek, sending a tingle down your spine. She's standing so close to you, her chest nearly presses into yours. You can smell her perfume, a subtle vanilla scent that seems to surround her. It's intoxicating.

When you glance up, her eyes lock with yours, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe. They're a deep brown. Warm and inviting. You've never noticed how beautiful they are. Or maybe, you just haven't had the opportunity to study them this closely.

Her fingers linger on your skin, the tips grazing over the sensitive flesh.

"There. All better," she says, throwing away the paper towel.

"Thanks," you say, clearing your throat.

"No problem," she grins.

The two of you stand in silence, neither of you wanting to move.

"So," you start, breaking the tension. "Should we, uh, wait for Doyeon here?"

"Sure," she shrugs.

"Okay, um, I'm going to, uh, sit over there," you stutter, pointing to the bench behind her.

"Okay," she says.

You awkwardly make your way to the bench and sit down, keeping a safe distance between the two of you.

"How are you feeling?" she asks.

"A little lightheaded," you admit.

"Hmm, do you want some water?" she suggests.

You think of the possibly poisoned coffee. "No, I think I'm alright," you say.

"Okay," she nods.

Another awkward silence.

"So, you, uh, have a lot of dance injuries?" you ask.

"Yeah, a few," she laughs.

"Like, what kind?"

"Oh, nothing serious. Mostly bruises and sprains. Once, I twisted my ankle, but that was ages ago," she says, waving her hand dismissively.

"Really?"

"Mm-hmm," she nods.

"How many times have you had a bloody nose?" you inquire.

"That's a secret," she grins.

"C'mon," you press.

"Nope, not telling," she shakes her head.

"You're no fun," you huff.

"I'm lots of fun. You're just not asking the right questions," she smirks.

"Like what?"

"Like.."

The locker room door opens, and a group of women walk in, all chattering excitedly. Bada looks over, her smile growing wider.

"Doyeon!" she calls, waving her hand.

You turn, spotting the captain running over to you. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun and sweat drips down her face. As worn out as she seemed, she still looked incredible. In a flash, you became hyperaware of your probably still disheveled looks as a result of your recent injury. Way to embarrass yourself in front of a pretty girl.

"Hey, Doyeon," Bada greets, standing up and smiling at her. Doyeon outstretches her arms, enveloping Bada in a lingering, tight, hug.

"Bada! I missed you," Doyeon sighs.

"Missed you too," Bada replies.

"And who's this?" she asks, pulling away from the hug and nodding in your direction.

"Oh, um, this is y/n, she's working with me on the project. I told you about."

"Nice to meet you," you smile, extending a hand.

"Likewise," she replies, shaking it.

"So, are you ready to do this interview?" Bada asks, eagerness dripping in her voice.

"Yeah, let me get changed first," she replies, walking towards the lockers.

"Sure," Bada nods, watching as Doyeon disappears into the showers.

You glance over at her, her eyes still trained on where Doyeon had just disappeared. Something in your stomach sinks.

"Oh my god," you scoff.

"What?" she asks, turning to face you.

"Don't tell me we're interviewing one of your little girlfriends," you grimace.

"She's not my girlfriend," she frowns.

"Whatever," you say, rolling your eyes.

"Seriously, y/n, we're just friends."

"With benefits?" you inquire, raising an eyebrow.

"Why does this matter so much to you, anyway?" she asks, crossing her arms.

"Because, it's my project, and I don't want it ruined because you can't keep your hormones in check," you reply, glaring at her.

"I'm not going to 'ruin' anything, alright? I'm perfectly capable of keeping my personal life separate from my school work."

"Yeah, sure, whatever," you mutter.

"God, you're so frustrating," she huffs.

"So are you," you snap.

"Well, it's a good thing this is just for a project, and you don't have to deal with me outside of class, then."

"But it's a shame I can't get rid of you sooner."

"Believe me, the feeling's mutual," she growls.

You open your mouth, ready to unleash a verbal assault, but you're cut off by the sound of footsteps. Doyeon walks up, her hair still wet, and her bag slung over her shoulder.

"You two ready?" she asks, grinning at the both of you.

"As we'll ever be," Bada sighs.

The three of you sit on the locker room bench, a small space in between each of you. Bada is scribbling something down on a piece of paper while Doyeon waits patiently.

"Alright, um, first question. How have the recent changes affected the team's practices and games?"

"Honestly, it's been pretty tough. We're used to practicing indoors, so the outdoor heat has been brutal. On top of that, we've had less access to facilities, which has made things even more difficult. All of this has taken a toll on our performance, both on and off the court."

"That's unfortunate," Bada frowns. "How have the coaches and other staff members been handling the situation?"

"Not well, honestly. They've been pretty angry and stressed. They haven't taken it out on us, but it's been noticeable. And, honestly, they have every right to be upset. This is a big change for everyone, and it's not something that was anticipated."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Bada sighs.

"Thanks," Doyeon says with a smile, placing her hand on top of Bada's.

The sight of it makes your stomach twist, and a scowl forms on your face.

"Uh, next question," you start. "Do you have any idea when the situation might improve?"

Doyeon tears her eyes away from Bada. "Hopefully soon. We can't keep playing like this. Something needs to change."

"And if nothing does?" you ask.

"Then we'll have to keep fighting. Like always," she shrugs.

"I'm proud of you guys. You've all been handling this whole situation with a lot of grace," Bada compliments.

"Well, I have a great team. Everyone has really stepped up and supported each other. We've got a lot of good people," Doyeon smiles.

"That's wonderful to hear," Bada grins.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes.

"Anyways, let's wrap this up," you say, clapping her hands together. "Last question. Is there anything else you think is worth knowing for our project?"

"Hm, let me think," she hums, placing her finger to her chin. "I don't think there's anything..."

"Well then, I think we're done!" you announce, swiftly standing up.

"Already?" Bada asks, glancing at her watch.

"Yeah, time flies, huh?"

"I guess," she mutters. "Alright, thanks for your time, Doyeon," Bada smiles, reaching across the space and squeezing Doyeon's knee.

"Of course," she beams.

You roll your eyes again.

"Well, I'll see you later, okay?" Bada says, standing up.

"Absolutely," Doyeon agrees.

"Great," she grins.

Bada turns to face you, a forced smile plastered on her face.

"We done?"

"Yep, let's go."

You and Bada make your way out of the locker room, leaving Doyeon behind.

"That went well," Bada sighs, once the door closes.

"Sure did," you mumble, barely able to contain the sarcasm.

"I can't wait to write up the report," she exclaims, her eyes lighting up.

"It'll be nice, yeah," you say.

"Maybe after, we could—"

"I need to go," you blurt out, cutting her off.

"What?" she asks, frowning.

"I'm, uh, late. For class. Sorry."

"Oh. Okay, um, I'll see you around, I guess," she says.

"Bye," you say, rushing past her.

You're not lying. You are late for class. But not nearly as late as you're making out. You speed-walk across campus, a million thoughts racing through your mind. No wonder Bada was so eager to do this project. It was just an excuse to spend time with Doyeon. And, judging by the way the two of them interacted, it wasn't the first time they'd spent time together.

You're not exactly sure why this is bothering you so much. You knew Bada got around. Maybe it's because you're annoyed that Bada didn't tell you the truth. Or maybe it's because you feel stupid for not seeing this coming. Whatever the reason, the fact remains that you're upset, and you have no one to blame but yourself.

You make it to your lecture hall, and as quietly as possible, slip into an empty seat near the back. Your professor drones on and on about the importance of deadlines and punctuality, and you find yourself completely unable to pay attention. Instead, you replay the day's events over and over again. Each time, you cringe at the memory of how oblivious and naive you'd been.

read part two

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