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the-boy-meets-evil · 1 month

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not according to plan | hjs

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well hello,” your best friend answers.

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

“This is gonna be good,” he responds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck that guy,” Jeonghan interjects.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hate you,” Jeonghan snorts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It works.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I…what?” you sputter out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I try to be,” you agree.

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

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

“Is he not?” Joshua wonders.

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

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

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

“Fine,” Joshua agrees.

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

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

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

“Why that one?” you ask.

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

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

“You look great,” Joshua assures you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?” you ask.

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

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

“Sometimes those are the best…” Joshua starts.

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

“You and him slept together?” Joshua questions.

“Is that weird for you?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

“Not finding the right people?” Joshua presses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fair point,” Joshua concedes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s so kind,” you whisper out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s a very long rule,” you note.

“Deserved, though,” Jeonghan says.

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

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

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

“Oh did he now?”

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

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

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

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

“You said it,” you mumble.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That was fast,” Jeonghan comments.

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

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

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

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

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

“Who’s there?” Jeonghan asks.

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

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

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

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

“Sorry, gotta go,” you say.

“Oh no, no, no,” Jeonghan tries.

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

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

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

“Jeonghan?” Joshua guesses.

“Unfortunately,” you confirm.

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

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

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

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

“Yup,” Joshua says.

“Gonna tell me what it is?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s so sweet,” you say earnestly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For what?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, why?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s not actually fine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Definitely,” Joshua insists.

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

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

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

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

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

“I wasn’t invited,” Mimi pouts.

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

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

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

“Damn, okay. I’m in,” Mimi says.

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

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

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

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

“Do you have it saved?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

“Ugh, I’m so single,” Mimi whines.

“Maybe not after the wedding,” Hyejin teases.

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

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

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

“Thank you,” you whisper back.

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

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

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

“Try again, sweetheart,” you answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

None of that comes out, though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They like you, too,” you assure him.

“What about you?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course,” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he does, less than an hour later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hate you,” he says.

“I know,” you answer.

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

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

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

Damn. Did you really walk right into that?

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

“Talk to me,” Jeonghan urges.

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

“Joshua,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

“Really dating him,” Jeonghan says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s just nice, Han,” you disagree.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now,” he says.

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?” you wonder.

“A surprise,” he answers.

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

“You will,” he assures you.

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

“Yeah, I do. Don’t worry, you’ll like this too,” he says.

There was no point in denying it. That confidence sent a bit of a shiver through you.)

It turns out that the date is at a winery where you’re painting with wine. You have to ask him to say it again because you’ve only ever heard of wine and paint classes. Painting with wine is entirely new to you. It sounds fun, though, and you know how crafty Joshua can be, have seen all the projects around his apartment. So, even though you’re definitely not that artistic, you’re excited to see this as well.

Admittedly, by the end of the session, your painting isn’t bad. It was a bit weird to use wine in that way, but they let you drink as well. Which makes it a lot easier to just go along with the idea of painting. Joshua’s painting, on the other hand, is beautiful. Not for the first time, you think his talents might be wasted at an office job. You’ve seen the bracelets he makes and now you’ve seen him paint. You’ve heard him sing and play the guitar. He’s impossibly artistic in a way that should make you jealous. Instead, it just makes you more endeared to him.

You snap a picture of him and his art when he’s not looking and upload it before he can even realize it. It’s only when a notification goes off on his phone that he realizes. He doesn’t even say anything, just gets a sparkle in his eyes that makes you weary immediately. He’s busy tapping away on his own phone before a notification sounds on yours. Maybe you weren’t the only one to steal a candid shot if the picture of you laughing with a glass of wine in one hand and a paintbrush in the other is anything to go by. It’s the caption that really ruins you, though. Just a simple “think I’m addicted to her light”. It’s so simple and also so much sweeter than yours. You fight through the urge to run away.

Which lasts until you get home from dinner. It was the perfect date, truly. Joshua always seems to know exactly how to plan out a day so everything works. After sipping wine and painting, he took you to one of his favorite restaurants. Nothing too pretentious, just kind of unassuming. The kind of place where you get good food and even better conversation. It’s (mostly) easy to keep your mind off the way your heart keeps racing.

When you’re back home, you’re not so lucky.

Back home, alone in your apartment, there aren’t any distractions. Nothing to stop your mind from all the ways that it can sabotage your own happiness. Nothing to stop you from thinking about how nobody, not even Johnny, has ever planned out such thoughtful dates for you. Nobody has ever taken the time to really know you like Joshua. Even if you won’t admit it, he knows you better than anyone you’ve ever dated. Which is terrifying, since this is all fake. And he hasn’t even known you that long.

So, you do the rational thing and you pull back again. Answer his texts so that he doesn’t send Jeonghan over to figure out what’s wrong, but don’t make solid plans. Talk a lot about a work project that you really need to get done ahead of schedule so that you’re not stressing leading up to the wedding. And you throw in some easy suggestions in the meantime so that it still seems like you’re making an effort.

Lunch on a work day so that it has a set ending time. Which still tugs at your heartstrings a bit because he takes a longer lunch just to meet you closer to where you work.

An event where your parents purchased a table for charity because he’s in high demand with your family around. And he can’t be as affectionate.

His Open Mic Nights, but with the excuse that you can’t stay too late because of your project and he should stick around with his friends. You’ll get home safely.

Small little things that keep you around him and keep up your conversations while still giving you time to breathe. You’re sure that you’re pulling it all off. And then, the wedding is around the corner. The finish line is in sight.

You: I’m not going to the wedding You: you don’t have to come pick me up Joshua: what are you talking about? You: i’m not going Joshua: but it’s literally in a few hours? You: yeah and i don’t wanna go, so you’re off the hook You: thanks for everything, but you don’t have to pretend anymore

Even if you know you’re being a little petulant, you don’t really care. This whole thing was supposed to be about protecting your heart. Protecting your pride. Not showing up to your cheating ex-fiance's wedding alone and looking like some kind of loser. It was not supposed to be about your heart getting clobbered anyway. So, you’re doing the only logical thing you can think of. Ignoring your problems. Avoiding both the wedding and Joshua. What you’re not prepared for, though you should be, is the knock that comes at your door half an hour later.

Joshua is on the other side of the door and your heart actually stops. He’s got his tux on and his hair styled back off his face. His eyes are soft as they take you in, noting that you have your hair and make up done. Though, you’re still in your sweats. You got at least that far before you decided this was a stupid fucking decision.

“Can I come in?” he asks when you don’t say anything.

“Sure,” you say and step aside.

“You look like you’re getting ready,” he comments once he’s inside.

“I was, until I texted you,” you answer. “Speaking of, why are you here?”

“Because we had plans,” he says.

“Yeah to go see my ex-fiance marry the girl he cheated on me with. Oh, and for you to pretend to be my boyfriend so I didn’t look pathetic,” you say with a huff.

“You’re not pathetic. He’s an asshole,” Joshua says. He doesn’t swear often, so it catches you a little off guard.

“Well, whatever, you don’t have to go. So, I’m not really sure why you’re here,” you say.

“You’re being so cold. What’s going on?” Joshua asks and reaches out to you. Instead, you duck away from his touch.

“Nothing is going on. It was stupid to care what Johnny thought or to try and save face somehow,” you say.

“It’s not stupid. He hurt you and you didn’t deserve that,” Joshua urges.

“You really don’t know me that well. Maybe I did deserve it. Maybe I was awful to him and he had no choice,” you say.

“We both know that’s not true,” he says.

“Do we?” you challenge.

“Yes, we do,” he presses. “There is nothing you could do that justifies cheating instead of just breaking it off. But, I also know you didn’t do anything wrong. Jeonghan and I talked about it.”

“You spoke to Jeonghan about my relationship behind my back?” you question.

“What is going on? We’ve been hanging out for weeks and getting to know each other. I just wanted to know more about someone I was going to be helping. And I like knowing you,” Joshua says and you have to look away. You don’t need the reminder of how much time you’ve spent with him.

“Yeah, sorry about all that time we wasted. I’ll pay you back for the tux or anything else you had to buy to pretend to date me,” you say and he looks genuinely confused.

“I don’t…want you to pay me back for anything. It wasn’t a waste of time. I did this because I wanted to,” he says.

“Yeah, well, you don’t have to pretend anymore because I’m not going to the stupid fucking wedding. It was a really bad idea in the first place,” you say.

Joshua clenches his jaw and looks away. Like maybe he’s frustrated. “What is going on? Do you still have feelings for him?”

“For who? Johnny?” you ask, so insanely caught off guard that you forget you’re mad.

“Yes,” Joshua says tightly.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you bark out.

“Well? You’re being really weird and now you don’t want to go to a wedding that we’ve been planning on,” he starts.

“Yeah, which should make you happy, since you don’t have to pretend to be my boyfriend anymore,” you say.

“Because you’re still in love with Johnny,” Joshua finishes like he hadn’t even heard you.

“Oh my god,” you nearly scream. “I’m not fucking in love with Johnny. This isn’t about him.”

“So, you don’t want to go to the wedding and it has nothing to do with him? That doesn’t make any sense,” he says.

“No, I don’t want to keep doing this,” you say, gesturing between the two of you. “I don’t want to keep pretending to date you when I -”

You clamp your mouth shut. Unable to believe that you almost blurted out how you feel.

“When you what?” he challenges. “What? Is it that bad being around me? Is that it? Are you just sick of me? Ready to toss me aside?”

You laugh bitterly, not even able to appreciate the irony in the situation. “No, Joshua, I don’t want to toss you aside.”

“Then, what? What am I supposed to think when you’ve been pushing me away for the last couple weeks? And I have to act like I haven’t noticed all the ways you’ve kept me at arm’s length since we went to the winery. Why did you just decide, literally today, that you don’t want to go to the wedding after all?” he asks, rambling. He’s pacing in front of you. “Why are you trying so hard to get rid of me?”

“Because I don’t want to get hurt!” you blurt out. “Because I don’t want to go to my fucking scumbag of an ex’s wedding where everyone is going to be giving me these looks of pity or focusing on my relationship with him when all I want is this.”

“This? What?” he asks, coming to a stop.

“This, Joshua, you and me. Having this just all be pretend is breaking my heart. I can’t keep doing it. It was supposed to keep me from getting my heart broken. It sucks and I hate it and I just wish it wasn’t pretend. I don’t want to go to the wedding and have you be so sweet and kind and caring when I’m going to know it has an expiration date. That it’s all just been for show,” you admit. You turn away, clutching your arms around your center because you’re so tired. And so exposed. So vulnerable. It’s awful.

The tears won’t stop, so you don’t notice how Joshua has closed the space between you until he wraps his arms around you from behind. Pulls you back against his chest and presses a kiss into your hair.

“So, let’s stop saying it’s pretend,” he whispers.

“What?” you whisper back.

He turns you in his arms so that you’re facing him and gently brushes away the tears. “Let’s stop saying it’s fake. It doesn’t feel fake, does it?”

“No,” is all you can manage.

“So, it’s not fake and we’re not pretending,” he says.

“But,” you start to protest.

“I knew I was in trouble, really deep trouble, as soon as we left your parents’ house. I was just waiting for you to catch up,” he says as he gently runs a thumb across your cheek to wipe away a tear . Your eyes go wide.

“That was barely a week in,” you say and he just shrugs. “And I’d dumped all my bullshit on you.”

“I think that’s actually what made me like you so much,” he says. “It was supposed to be fake and we were trying to get to know each other well enough to pull it off. But, instead, I just realized you were actually perfect.”

“Perfect? I was broken,” you joke and he shakes his head.

“No, you’ve been hurt. Who hasn’t? You’re also strong, kind, funny, a fiercely loyal friend, and one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met, inside and out,” he says.

“That’s so, you’re so sweet,” you say and try to hide your face. He doesn’t let you. “You like me?”

“I’ve liked you the whole time. I did think it was a date, after all,” he says. “And do you think I’m that affectionate with everyone?”

“We were pretending,” you argue.

“I wasn’t,” he argues back.

“Our closest friends thought you were,” you disagree.

“And was anyone else there in my apartment when I was still being affectionate?” he asks.

“Well, no, but…” you start.

“I heard you say always,” he tells you.

“You did?” you ask, sure that it’s been your secret this whole time.

“We don’t have to go to the wedding. But, if it’s just because you don’t want this to be over with me, then it’s not going to be over. I’m yours for as long as you want me,” he says so earnestly it nearly makes you blush.

“Careful, you might get sick of me,” you joke.

He puts a finger under your chin so he can look you in the eyes. “I’ll say it again. I’m yours as long as you want me. I won’t get sick of you.”

“I…” you start and don’t know where to go. So you do the only thing you can think of and kiss him. It’s clear he’s a little caught off guard, but he recovers quickly. His arms wrap around you to hold you tight against him. It’s the first time you’ve really kissed him and you’re so screwed because he really is perfect at this too.

“So, do I get you for the rest of today?” he asks.

You take in his tuxedo again, for real this time. Appreciating how well it’s tailored and how amazing he looks. With a sigh, you say, “you know, it’s a shame to waste such a nice tux.”

“Are you…I thought we weren’t going,” he stutters.

“I’m probably gonna have to fix my makeup in the car, but why not? I want to show off my super hot and very real boyfriend,” you say and watch him choke on air.

“You can’t just say…” he starts.

“Damn, sick of me already?” you tease.

“You know I’m not,” he answers and moves to follow you.

“No, no. You don’t get to see me changing. I’ll be back out in a second,” you say.

You’re in the middle of shimmying into your dress when you realize that you do still have a lot to talk about. A lot to figure out. This whole situation has been unusual, though, so it probably makes sense that there isn’t a template. Once you have your shoes on, you walk back into the living room, prepared to say something, only to find Joshua speechless.

“You look…” he starts.

“You’ve seen the dress already,” you say and smile.

“Not on you. Not in person. You look amazing,” he says and crosses to pull you into his arms. “Are you sure we have to go?”

“Yes,” you say and swat him. “But, I do know we have a lot to talk about.”

“I’m not in a rush,” he says and allows you to step away.

“We might need to be in a bit of a rush,” you say, checking the time and gathering all your things.

“Let’s go, then,” Joshua says and offers his arm.

The wedding passes in kind of a blur. In truth, you barely even register Johnny or what he’s doing beyond the actual ceremony. The reception is so massive that it’s easiest just to focus on the people around you. Especially when you’re at a table with your friends. Thankfully, you’re not at a table with your parents or your sister. It does mean, though, that you’re sitting next to Hyejin, who has definitely realized that something shifted between you and Joshua. So, she’s trying to sneak in a question any time she can. Which is hard, given that Joshua is more attached to you than ever. And Hyejin doesn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to you. All you manage to let her know is that it’s real now and that you’ll fill her in after the wedding. (You’re also thankful that people seem to be cooing over Taehyung and Mimi since they’re the shiny new topic.)

It’s also nice to have Joshua there because he’s a built in way to excuse yourself from any conversation that you don’t want to be part of. It’s easy to just say you’re going to go back to the table. Or, in the case of a good song coming on, he’ll be quick to drag you to the dance floor and away from whatever conversation you’re stuck in. He’s a good dancer, too. You don’t miss the way Hyejin catches your eye when the first slow song comes on and he pulls you close to him. But, that’s a conversation for another day. All you wanted was to appreciate the way his hand felt on your lower back or your hand felt in his.

When it was finally time to leave, Joshua led you out of the event, arm around you to guide you. Neither of you were drunk, but you had still hired someone to take you to and from the wedding anyway. A gift from your parents to appreciate you “doing the right thing” and coming to the wedding. For the sake of the families. It made you roll your eyes at the time, yet you’re thankful now. It would be far better than having to take an Uber or trying to get a room at the hotel (and risking seeing everyone else staying there the next morning). The ride home also gave you the chance to talk. Really talk. Neither of you cared much that someone else was driving (and he had the partition up, anyway), as you talked about your feelings honestly for the first time.

As it turned out, you had a lot to say. Both of you. You hadn’t been nearly as good at hiding your feelings from Joshua as you had been at hiding them from yourself. He had hoped you were going to admit them to him after that night at his apartment. Instead, you avoided him. Yes, he knew that you had been avoiding him. You also weren’t very good at picking up on the signs he dropped about his feelings for you. He admitted that he could have just said something, but he was trying to be subtle so he didn’t scare you off. Trying to let his actions speak through more affection. You admit you were scared to think it was anything more than it actually was. Scared of your feelings. Scared of getting hurt again. Joshua completely understands that and admits that he’s a little scared, too, because you’re definitely more important to him than he was anticipating. He’s also confident that you can work through it together. It gives you a feeling of hope. Makes everything about you feel lighter. You see that relief reflected in Joshua’s eyes when they scan yours.

The car pulls to a stop and he gets out first. He holds his hand out to help you out of the car. You’re not really sure what comes over you.

“Come up with me,” you ask, but it’s more of a statement.

He hesitates, conflicted. “I don’t know if I should.”

“Why?” you ask, clearly confused.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to leave,” he answers and you smile.

“Then stay,” you shrug, “at least for breakfast.”

Without waiting for him to respond, you turn and head for the front door of the building. It means you miss the way he freezes in place, but you can guess at that by how long it takes before he catches up to you. He’s unusually quiet and still beside you as you go up the elevator and then behind you as you unlock the door.

“I’m gonna go change,” you announce after you drop your keys by the door. You look back at Joshua, appreciating him in the tuxedo one last time. “I’ve got some clothes in the spare room that should fit. They’re Jeonghan’s ”

You take the opportunity to breathe for a second, to let it settle in that you asked Joshua to come in with you and stay the night. Then, you set about changing out of your dress. Carefully clean your face free of the make-up. Brush through your hair and twist it back off of your face. Once you’re in comfy clothes and bare faced, you head back out into the living room. It’s odd that you don’t even feel self-conscious about Joshua seeing you like this, you’re instantly comfortable.

Joshua’s back is to you in the kitchen. When he turns around, you see that he’s put together a little platter of snacks. You also were right, the t-shirt and shorts he picked out seem to fit him well. Jeonghan is a little slighter than Joshua, but he wears most of his clothes on the baggier side.

“Thanks for the clothes,” he says when you both meet on the couch. “I was worried when you said you had spare clothes they were gonna be from an ex or Johnny or something.”

Your laugh is sudden and clearly catches Joshua off guard. “I wouldn’t have kept any of Johnny’s clothes. I gave them all to charity.”

“I’m sure he was thrilled with that,” Joshua laughs.

“They made a killing reselling them,” you laugh in response. “Wanna watch something?”

“Sure, you pick,” he says.

You start clicking through your saved list to find something that the two of you can watch. Once you settle on something, Joshua motions you over. Even if you want to pretend you’re considering it, you can’t. Every part of you wants to be close to him. When you slide over, he pulls you in tighter to his body and you fit like you always belonged there with him.

If you thought he was physically affectionate when he was pretending, it’s nothing compared to now that he knows you’re both in this. He has one hand running along your arm or the other along your thigh. Sometimes he reaches out to take one of your hands. Other times he presses kisses into your hair. It’s pretty clear right away that he’s not paying much attention to the show.

If you’re being honest, you’re not really either.

Everything is distracting. The way his fingers on the bare skin of your arm raises goosebumps. The way his kiss in your hair makes your eyes close in appreciation. The way he squeezes your thigh and short circuits your brain.

You can’t help it. You turn your head so that you can look at him. He caresses your cheek, so gentle. Runs his thumb across your lip. You’re holding your breath, just waiting to see what he’s going to do. When you feel like you’re going to go a little bit insane, his hand moves to the back of your neck and pulls you in. It’s exactly like the first kiss before the wedding. At least, at first. It’s gentle, but full of so much desire. It’s also slow, like there’s no rush to any of it.

The position is really uncomfortable, though. You shift your legs so they’re draped over one of Joshua’s. He doesn’t miss a beat. It just allows him to pull you closer. There’s something incredibly intimate in kissing him like this. There’s this weird contrast of desire and comfort. It’s heated, but also a little lazy. Like you have all the time in the world. Which you do, you think, now that you’re being honest about your feelings. When Joshua pulls back from the kiss, you chase his lips for a second before realizing that he’s pulled away. The way he looks at you nearly melts you into the couch.

“I don’t want to assume where this is headed, but maybe we should take it to the bedroom?” he asks. It’s cute, the way he’s a little shy. Like you didn’t invite him in to spend the night. Yeah, you’re in way over your head. At least it seems like he might be too.

You pull your legs back so that you can stand up. His eyes track your movements as you reach your hand back to him. He accepts it without a word and lets you lead him to the bedroom. Even if he’s seen your bedroom before, this feels different. You’re waiting for him to look around, but his eyes are glued on you. Joshua even waits for you to lead him all the way to the bed, so you direct him to sit on the edge.

Once Joshua is seated, you step between his legs and tilt your head down to kiss him. He wraps his arms around you so that he can pull you against him. There’s barely any space between you. It sends a little bit of a shiver as his hands run up your back and back down. The touch is gentle and caring. Like he’s trying to put everything he feels into it. Something about it just makes you feel so insanely safe.

He’s the one to break the kiss again, but this time it’s to move back onto the bed and grab your hand to pull you along with him. It’s easy to just follow suit and get comfortable laying next to him, bodies facing each other. The kissing picks up when your lips meet again. Joshua kisses you breathless with a passion you’re eager to explore. One of his hands rests on your hip, casually sliding beneath your shirt and caressing up your side. You press your body further into his and capture his moan with a kiss. It feels like you’re a bit drunk off each other.

When Joshua’s hand moves back down, you take the chance to throw your leg over his hip, allowing you to press further into him and feel how this is turning him on. Part of you knows that he’s still waiting for you to set the pace. Or that he wants things to be a little slower. So, you help him out and roll the two of you over so that you’re straddled on top of him. Putting his hands on your hips, you lean over to kiss him again. In this position, you can also grind into his lap. You delight in how he’s already getting hard beneath you, enjoy the way his hands grip the soft flesh of your hips.

He pulls back and looks at you with blown pupils. “Baby, please don’t tease me.”

“No silly pet name?” you tease him.

“Not when you’re getting me this turned on like a horny teenager,” he whines.

“You mean like this?” you ask, injecting as much innocence as you can when you slowly drag your clothed pussy across his dick again.

Joshua throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut, and grips you tighter. “Yes.”

“So you don’t like it?” you ask, grinding a little more.

“Fuck,” he hisses out. And somehow that’s the thing that almost breaks you. Why is that one swear so hot on his lips?

Without saying anything, you sit up a little bit, still making sure you’re straddling Joshua, so that you can pull his shirt off him. Your eyes go wide because you’ve never seen him shirtless. You’ve seen him in well fitted suits or shirts, but this is entirely different. His chest looks like it was sculpted by an artist. All your attention is on your fingers running along his chest and you don’t see the way it makes him a little shy.

His hands reach for your own shirt, playing with the hem like he’s asking permission. So, you move his hands aside and pull it over your head, leaving your skin bare as well. You watch him drink you in, feeling almost empowered by the desire you see in his eyes. He pulls you back towards him so that he can get one of your breasts into his mouth. The way he teases your nipple with his tongue has you clenching around nothing. You can feel how wet it’s making you and try your best not to squirm when he moves from one breast to the other.

“I need you,” you utter.

“I need you, too,” he says against your skin. His hips buck up into you almost involuntarily.

You slide off of him and pull your shorts down and he gasps that you don’t have any underwear on. It isn’t like you were expecting anything, you just wanted to be prepared. While he’s still a little drunk on the sight of you fully naked, you help him discard the rest of his clothing. The sight of his cock springing free, precum leaking out, has you wanting to get your mouth on him.

But, you’re realizing, what you really want is to feel him inside you. After so much tension and wondering, you just want to have this moment together. You want to be as close as two people can possibly get. You want all the intimacy and to be able to see his face. It’s this thought that pushes you back to the bed to lay with him.

Joshua repositions and runs a hand down your body. Lets his fingers run along your thighs and tease their way up to gather some of your wetness. Your eyes close as he runs a finger up your slit. It’s such a little amount of contact and it makes you moan anyway.

“Damn, are you this wet just for me?” he asks and presses a kiss into the first bit of your skin he can reach.

“I want to feel you,” you admit. Joshua makes you press a finger into your pussy, but you stop him. Confusion takes over his features.

“I thought…do you not want this?” he asks.

“I do, but I want…I want all of you,” you admit. “I want to feel you deep inside of me. I want to be completely ruined by you. I want to come together.”

“Shit,” he hisses, hand stilling against your body. “On one condition.”

“What’s that?” you ask.

“I want to taste you soon,” he says, pressing a kiss into your shoulder.

The thought of him between your legs makes you shiver. It’s almost enough to forget that you want this first time to be together. “Deal.”

“Do you have condoms? I wasn’t exactly expecting…” he says, trailing off.

“That drawer,” you say and point.

He rolls himself off of the bed to open the drawer. You’re not sure why you expect his hands to be a little unsteady when he rips open the wrapper and rolls it onto himself, but he’s so calm. Maybe it’s just you that’s a little nervous. At least, that’s what you think until you catch the look on his face. It has to be the same as yours, naked want mixed with a little bit of uncertainty. Everything else has been so easy with you, what if this is where it goes wrong?

“Just lay back,” he urges you, voice calming any lingering nerves. His voice drops to a whisper, like the next statement is just for him. “You’re so beautiful, every single inch of you.”

It makes your heart constrict in a way that you’re not really prepared for. It would be nice if your feelings could stop flooding in all at once like a dam breaking. It’s overwhelming. You do as he says, though, and lean back against the pillow. Joshua gently spreads your legs apart and takes another moment to appreciate you. He can’t seem to help himself from running a finger along your entrance.

Even though he would fully be within his rights to tease you, he doesn’t. He lines himself up at your entrance and looks to you for final confirmation. All you can manage is a nod. You know he wants to hear you, but you can’t bring yourself to form the words. So, he accepts the nods and slowly presses into you.

“Fuck,” you hiss as you adjust to him.

“Are you okay?” he worries.

“Feels good,” you say with a slight whine. “It’s just been a bit.”

He presses the rest of the way into you and then stills so you can get used to him. It’s really overwhelming. Not just because you’re finally feeling him inside of you. More so because he’s looking at you with more adoration than you’ve ever felt in your life. Like this is it for him. Like you’re it for him. It’s too early to be thinking of love, but you really don’t know if anyone has ever loved you so completely. You think he’s probably it for you too.

Once he finally starts to move, you know it’s going to be over entirely too fast. He starts with slow thrusts, testing what you want. You dig your fingers into his arms as a way to ground yourself. To anchor yourself to him and in the moment. When he picks up the pace, your mind goes entirely blank. It’s just the right speed. While you love the hard and fast fucking, there’s something so much more intimate about this kind of in between speed.

“God you feel so good,” he whines as he snaps into you again. “So tight and perfect.”

“You’re so - oh my god,” you moan out, unable to finish the sentence as he hits you just right.

Joshua moves one of your legs so that it’s over his shoulder and presses further into you, hitting deeper than you were prepared for.

“Fuck, Joshua, holy shit,” you scream out.

“Love the sound of my name on your lips,” he manages as his thrusts pick up pace.

You want to respond that you love saying it, want to say anything, but the thrusts are entirely too much. As if it wasn’t already too much, Joshua adjusts again so that he can press his thumb against your clit. He rubs circles in time with his thrusts and you think that you might see stars. You throw your head back, eyes pressed shut.

“Look at me, baby. I wanna see you when you come,” he urges, his own voice sounding ragged.

Despite wanting to focus on the pressure building between you, you do as he asks. Your eyes meet his and it’s that look that makes that coil snap. You’re coming hard and digging your fingers into whatever you can find to release some of the tension in your body. This might be the best orgasm you’ve had.

When you come back to this plane, Joshua has stilled inside of you. One of his hands gently caresses your face as he mumbles quiet praises. It’s so impossibly tender.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, you can move,” you assure him.

“Thank fuck,” he mumbles.

His pace now picks up to something fast and hard with one of his large hands anchoring your thigh to his body. Your hands grip any part of his body that they can reach and you relish the way he hisses when your nails drag patterns down his skin. Marking him so that he belongs to you. Just as you belong so completely to him.

It seems impossible but you can feel the tension building low in your stomach again. His thrusts are so hard that you feel like his cock might split you open and something about it just works for you. You hadn’t thought anything about him would translate to this kind of hard and fast sex, but it’s somehow better than you could have imagined. With him so focused on chasing his own high, you rub circles on your clit to bring yourself over the edge again. You tumble over the edge for a second time just as Joshua’s thrusts get erratic. You do your best to take over the rhythm before slowing down.

Joshua collapses on top of you, cock still buried in your pussy, and sighs. His weight on top of you feels like the best security you’ve ever had. Your hands find their way into his hair, gently stroking and scratching his scalp. As he comes back around, he presses his head further into your hand.

“Hey,” you say when he looks up at you.

“You’re perfect,” he responds and you can’t keep the smile off your face.

“You were pretty perfect yourself,” you say.

“Am I too heavy, I could…” he starts and you pull him tighter against you.

“Don’t you dare,” you warn.

He doesn’t say anything, just nuzzles his face into your neck. But, you know that you can’t stay like this forever. So you don’t protest when he gently pulls himself up and gets out of the bed. You’re right behind him, leading him into the bathroom so that you can get both of you cleaned up.

After getting cleaned up, dressed, and doing your respective night time routines, you and Joshua are settled back into your bed (on top of a fresh set of sheets). Although you’ve never been much for falling asleep cuddling, you can’t imagine leaving any space between you and him. When he wraps himself around you, all you can do is smile and settle deeper into his perfect chest. Honestly, every inch of this man is perfect and you’d be annoyed if you weren’t so helplessly attached to him.

And it’s the best sleep you’ve gotten in a long time. You wake up with his chest pressed into your back and his arm still wrapped around you. It sounds like he’s still asleep based on his breathing and so you’re just considering slipping out of the bed. He moves in his sleep and pulls you tighter against him, making you feel that he’s semi-hard again. You press back against him, almost testing if he’s really asleep.

He’s not.

Joshua’s hand, already against the skin of your stomach and underneath your shirt, moves further up to your breast. His hand squeezes your breast and then he brushes his thumb over your nipple. Your body responds to his touch embarrassingly fast, which only seems to spur him on. He’s got your nipple between his fingers before you press back into him again, wiggling your ass against his dick without pretending you’re doing otherwise.

“Good morning beautiful,” Joshua says in a raspy voice into your ear.

The warmth of his breath along with the pressure of him rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger has you suppressing a moan. In the quiet of the morning, he hears it anyway. He removes his hand from your breast and you want to pout at the loss of contact. That is, until his hand works down between your legs, roughly grabbing hold of your pussy through your shorts. He runs his middle finger through your folds, likely feeling the way your shorts are getting soaked through already.

“Feels like someone might have woken up ready,” he says into your ear, voice sinfully low. His finger is still slowly teasing you through the damn material of your shorts. Somehow that makes it feel hotter.

“I wonder why,” you retort, undermined by the way you squirm under his touch.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks and stops his movements.

Your hand immediately moves to his. To guide him back to your cunt. “Please don’t. Want to see what those hands can do.”

His mouth is still by your ear, so you hear the dark chuckle and feel the air tickle you. He moves your hand aside along with your shorts as he slips his hand inside the fabric. His middle finger resumes the previous pattern almost lazily. You’re about to ask him to stop teasing you when he presses a finger inside you suddenly.

“Fuck,” you nearly scream.

“Is someone a little sensitive?” he teases. He’s a fucking demon and you would gladly sell your soul so he didn’t stop.

The way he pumps his finger inside of you is entirely too slow. But, when you try to meet his rhythm, he stops. Just when you think you might actually die, he inserts a second finger. It makes your back arch, pressing your ass further against his now very hard cock. He hisses and pulls his fingers out from you. As you’re turning over to adjust your position, you see him insert his fingers into his mouth. Holy shit. He really is the hottest man you’ve ever met.

Instead of letting you carry on in any way, he pushes himself up and repositions. You’re not really sure what he’s doing until he reaches for your shorts to pull them off. His focus is on you, silently asking for permission again. All you can do is nod.

“Told you that I wanted to taste you,” he reminds you once your shorts are off.

“Are you sure…” you start to ask before he cuts you off.

His head snaps up so he can meet your eyes. “I’ve been waiting to taste you for weeks.”

That shuts you up pretty effectively. What can you really say in response to that? Anything you might have said dies in your throat as he licks a messy stripe up your folds. He quickly settles, using one hand to keep you spread open for him, and licks into you. It’s all you can do to keep your eyes on him as his head bobs between your legs. You thread your fingers through his hair to keep him in place even though you know he’s not going anywhere. (And okay, maybe it’s more to ground yourself to him than anything else.)

It shouldn’t be surprising that his attentiveness translates this well, but it is a little surprising how well he seems to know your body. The way he knows just when to switch from licking into your cunt to flicking his tongue over your clit. The way he knows when he needs to add a finger and then a second. The way he can tell everything your body needs before you even realize it.

By the time he pulls himself up your body, he’s got you nearly panting from the build up. The kiss he presses to your lips is sloppy and a little desperate. Like you’re both totally fucked out. His fingers inside you keep a relentless pace as he hooks them, hitting that perfect spot.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you yell out, breaking the kiss. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire in an entirely different way from the night before.

There’s nothing in the world but Joshua and the way he coaxes everything out of you. The way he has you squirting on his fingers. You’re not even sure if the praise coming out of your mouth makes any sense and you’re definitely not sure what he says in return. It’s all you can do just to appreciate the moment.

You think that you’re going to get the chance to get your mouth around his cock now that he’s given you another mind blowing orgasm. But, by the time you get your breathing under control, you see that he’s rolling a condom from your drawer onto himself. He pulls you to the edge of the bed so that your legs are hanging off. It’s instantly stronger than you’re expecting from him and pulls a gasp from you.

Without even thinking, your legs fall open. Joshua seems to have found a bottle of lube, too, and spreads it over his cock. When he lines himself up at your entrance, you expect him to ease in like the night before. He doesn’t. He snaps his full length inside of you in one motion and you’re so overstimulated, but it feels so good.

“Fuck me, Joshua, oh my fucking god,” you say and clench down around his dick.

“Shit, that feels so good,” he hisses.

“You feel so good,” you moan.

“You have no idea,” he answers and starts thrusting.

It’s a complete haze from the moment you hear his skin slap against your own. Every coherent thought leaves your head. There is nothing in the world but you and him and the way you make each other feel. He leans over your body, crowds your space. Steals sloppy, desperate kisses. Praises you constantly and in broken sentences. It’s all you can do just to hold on, so sore and so unable to stop.

Your hands grip into the sheets around you that are completely rumpled. You try everything to keep your eyes on Joshua’s face. Memorize the way he looks when he’s concentrating. Appreciate how totally gone he is because you’re sure it’s the same look you have. Delight in the way his eyes get even wider when you clench your pussy around him.

It feels a little like he’s using your body to chase his own high, except there’s total comfort in that. All you want is for him to feel as good as you do. All you want is for him to get that release, especially since you haven’t been able to get your mouth on his cock yet.

“Harder Joshua, please. I know you’re close,” you beg and he obliges immediately.

Even though you’re trying to meet the rhythm, you can’t. It’s too erratic and too unpredictable. So you pull him down to you again and kiss him. Slip your tongue inside his mouth and let the kisses get as sloppy as they need to. You feel how close he is and only kiss him harder. He breaks the kiss for the last few thrusts, groaning as he comes. You’re right there with him.

(Later, he tells you that he’s never seen anyone hotter than you when you come. It would make you embarrassed in any other situation. But, you realize that you’ve never been with anyone that’s come close to him, so maybe it’s okay to accept his praise. Maybe you deserve it. Maybe this is the person that you’ve been waiting for.)

Now, you really do have to get up and clean up. As tempting as Joshua’s offer to shower together is, you don’t want it to turn into shower sex because that’s just not sexy (or practical). Neither one of you can seem to guarantee keeping their hands off the other. Instead, you tell him that he can use the shower in your guest room. It’s fully stocked and there are still more spare clothes in there. He insists that he should get some laundry going because you must be running out of clean sheets and you definitely made a mess.

With Joshua cleaning up some around the house, you’re the first out of the shower and dressed. Pleasantly sore in the kind of way you really enjoy. You’re sitting on the couch and scrolling through your phone, trying to decide if you want to order food or just cook what you already have. Before you can make a decision, there’s a knock at the door. It’s impossible to guess who it could be. Even Jeonghan wouldn’t bother you like this. Although he’s been texting asking for an update after you told him you finally got your shit together, he wouldn’t show up like this.

When you open the door, you’d give anything for it to just be Jeonghan. Instead, you see a face that you’ve been seeing entirely too much lately.

“What are you doing here, Johnny?” you ask with a heavy sigh.

“I need to talk to you,” he says.

“Why?” you ask.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” he pleads.

“Johnny, it’s the day after your wedding. What the fuck are you doing on my doorstep?” you ask, arms crossed.

“Are you really going to make me do this in the hallway?” he asks.

“I don’t see any reason to invite you inside,” you retort.

“It’s about your, uh, boyfriend,” Johnny says a little awkwardly.

“Joshua?” you ask because that actually piques your interest a bit.

“Can I come in?” he asks.

“No. What about Joshua?” you ask.

“This is really awkward. It would be better if we were sitting down…” Johnny starts.

“My little honeybun, is everything okay?” Joshua asks from inside the apartment. He must be out of the shower.

“Babe, we talked about the pet names,” you remind him as he joins you at the door.

“Oh, uh, I wasn’t expecting him to be here,” Johnny says.

“I’m her boyfriend, so I know why I’m here. What are you doing here?” Joshua says without hiding any disdain. "Are you really her boyfriend, though?" Johnny challenges. You stiffen almost imperceptibly, but Joshua must notice it because he wraps an arm around you protectively. "Of course I am. Why are you here?"

“I needed to talk to her,” Johnny says stiffly.

“About you, apparently,” you say with your eyes on Joshua.

“Right, so can you give us a minute?” Johnny asks with his eyes on Joshua.

“No, he can’t. If you have something to say, just say it. Then you can leave us alone,” you say.

“Fine, if you really want it to be like this, fine,” Johnny says. “I knew he looked familiar when I saw him at your parents’ house with you. It just took me a while. I ran into him at a couple of functions back when I was in college and traveling all around for my dad.”

“Okay? And? I’m sorry, but I’m not sure why I care,” you say even though you know where he’s going.

“He was always with older women,” Johnny presses.

“Can you just make your point so we can get back to our day?” Joshua asks.

“Fine,” Johnny says, irritated. “The whispers were that women paid him to come to the events with them. That he was selling himself to them.”

You actually snort at the phrasing. It takes you several seconds to compose yourself. You wonder what the point of Johnny doing this and if it’s his way of trying to keep you on the hook. Then you realize that you don’t really care what he does. For the first time in forever, you’re genuinely happy.

“I’m glad you think this is funny,” Johnny says.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I know how Joshua helped pay for his education. And like why am I going to give him a hard time over seizing an opportunity? There’s nothing wrong with profiting off of someone wanting his company platonically,” you say.

“You’re assuming he wasn’t also sleeping with them,” Johnny says, a little stubborn.

“No, I’m not assuming. I know he wasn’t because we’ve talked about this. He told me all about it without even being prompted. And unlike certain people in my life, I have absolutely no reason to doubt him. I know I can actually trust him,” you say. “It was also years before we met. We’ve all got history.”

“Nice dig,” he says.

“It’s not a dig, Johnny. Not everything is a slight,” you say with a sigh. “Where does Gabby think you are?”

“What?” Johnny asks.

“Your wife,” you clarify. “Where does she think you are?”

“Oh, well, that’s not important. I just said I had some errands to take care of,” Johnny says and you roll your eyes.

“We’re done, Johnny,” you say.

“Wait,” he says as you’re moving to shut the door. “I know I fucked up, but…”

“There’s no buts. Not anymore,” you say. “Maybe there was a point where I’d want to hear the buts and the apologies and all that. I’m happy now, though, and you can’t even tell your wife that you came to see your ex-fiancee the day after your wedding.”

“It’s not like…” he starts and you start to close the door at the same time.

“It’s exactly like that. Goodbye, Johnny,” you say.

The second you close the door, you feel a giant weight lifted off you. You just feel tired. It’s obvious that there aren’t any feelings there anymore, so him pretending he cares as a pretense to see you just feels irritating.

“Are you okay?” Joshua asks, eyes raking over you.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you say.

“You sure?” he asks.

“Yeah, really. I think I knew when I saw him at my parents’ house that time you came over for dinner that I was completely over it,” you say. “I’m sorry he tried to bring something like that up or make it a big deal.”

“I don’t care. It’s like you said, I did it and I’m not ashamed of that,” he says. “But, uh, I really wanted to thank you.”

“For what?” you ask.

“For defending me and for saying you trust me,” he says. It makes you a little shy for a second, so you look down.

“Oh, well, it’s not a big deal,” you say.

Joshua closes the space and tilts your chin up to look at him. “It’s a huge deal to me. I know we started pretending, but trusting me means the absolute world.”

“You make it easy,” you admit.

That seems to render him a little speechless as well because all he does is pull you into him in the tightest hug he’s ever given you. Your body fits into his like a puzzle piece. Which sounds sappy, even if in your head, and you don’t actually care. It’s the safest and the happiest you’ve ever felt.

“What?” he asks when you pull away.

“Nothing, I just think this is going to work,” you say.

Joshua smiles at you, that genuine smile he saves for when he’s at his happiest. “Yeah, I think so too.”

i hope you enjoyed this fic! let me know your thoughts 💕

tag list: @aaniag, @gyuminusone, @crepecakeu, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @amoryeonjun, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizoon, @klecksstorys, @sunflowergyeomie, @straykidswhoo789, @holistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @matchahyuck, @sonybear40, @kimseokgen, @hyneyedfiz, @miujunhui, @graybaeismytae, @hyucksrealm, @livixxn, @sharonxdevi, @coupsystar8, @sana-is-ms-rmty, @pyeonghongrie-main, @naajaeminsgf, @beomesbabe, @magicshop913, @deletingthekisses, @lissiesykes (strikethrough means i couldn't tag, check your settings!)

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ressonancee · 5 months

Text

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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ja3yun · 4 months

Text

Undercover Lover (pt.2) | P.JS

detective!jay x detective fem!reader

warnings: smut (mdni), angst, unprotected sex, oral (f. rec), edging, begging, teasing, kinda rough, mentions of guns and alcohol, gambling, confrontation, jay is kinda mean again but he makes up for it! not proofread.

wc: 9.1k+

synopsis: after yesterday's antics, you're still obligated to work alongside jongseong. however, when you're forced into a life-threatening predicament, feelings become tangled.

(part 1)

a/n: hi! a LOT of people asked for a part.2 and although i initially set it to be a one-off, you all enjoyed it so much i had to give you a conclusion. jongseong in the final two scenes has me swooning icl! enjoy <3 feedback is always appreciated, don't let it flop pls

_______

As you delicately adjust the spaghetti straps of your dress in the mirrored reflection of the elevator, a subtle uncertainty creeps into your mind regarding the chosen outfit. It doesn't exactly exude a rich man’s wife, but your limited wardrobe options leave you with no alternative, the only fancy clothing you own is the dress that got mercilessly ripped in half at the hands of Jongseong.

Even thinking about last night is giving you a dry mouth. Jongseong had manhandled you, fucked you so good you’ll be thinking about it for months and then proceeded to just leave you, your self-worth shattered like glass. You knew he was an asshole but that was a new level of low.

Even this morning, he had the audacity to reach out, seeking your assistance once again. You might be on a mission but you do contemplate whether you even have enough respect for him to pretend to be his wife.

To call him yours, kiss him, and be in love with him. It was a mission within itself.

However, the gravity of the case at hand hangs over your precinct, too important to be jeopardised by personal feelings. This case has the potential to change everything, and you want to be credited for your part in it. Perhaps there's a twinge of spite aimed at your work rival, but the prospect of infuriating him further by sharing the glory spurs you on.

As the elevator comes to a stop in the main lobby, a firm resolve forms inside you - that you’re going to become the best wife Jongseong could ever dream of, and make sure your name ends up on the case report.

Your eyes land on Jongseong’s broad back, the white solid ribbed knit top is tight enough for your brain to work out the contours of his back. Before you can stop yourself, you’re thinking about how his shoulder blades felt under the tip of your fingers and how you could feel every muscle working as he fucked into you. If there was one good thing about having sex with Jongseong last night it’s using the lust and memory to your advantage. If you can’t fake love, you can at least reminisce about the desire you felt for him last night.

Placing your hand on his arm and stroking down until your fingers interlock, you begin your Oscar-winning performance, “Hi, Jjongie. I’m sorry I slept in,” With your free hand you turn his face to look a you before bringing him down for a kiss.

Despite the suddenness of your presence and physical affection, Jongseong kisses you back delicately, and those lips touching yours again send a bolt of lightning down your spine. Involuntarily, your body arches into his touch as he lets go of your hand and wraps his arms around your waist.

The kiss feels different than the one last night; it's gentler than the way his lips were battering yours. Probably because Mr. and Mrs. Kim are looking straight at you both, Jongseong felt pressure to pour some sweetness into it, rather than hatred.

When you go to pull away, Jongseong pulls you back for more, his tongue swiping your bottom lip. You don’t know why he’s dragging this out considering Kwangmin is thoroughly convinced about the both of you, if not by your words of affection at dinner yesterday, then certainly by the way you’re both holding one another. Regardless, you let him continue because the feelings he’s portraying in this one kiss are more of an apology you’ll get verbally from him.

“You’re both so perfect for one another!” Mrs. Kim shrieks, looking at you both with adoration.

Her voice brings you both back to earth. You turn to face her but Jongseong’s eyes are still on you, assessing how you might be feeling underneath your charade but you’re so good at hiding your true emotions, he can’t work it out.

“Sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Kim for being so late, we had a long night last night, Didn’t we, baby?” Your pupils are still blown from the kiss and exhilaration of this case that the light reflects almost a starry gaze as you look at your pretend husband.

Jongseong sits his arm along your waist and smiles, “We did, angel. You look beautiful so I think we can all agree the delay was worth it.” He confesses.

“She does look radiant, Hwang,” Mr. Kim comments, “Come, let’s go to the lounge for brunch,” The Kims walk ahead leaving you and Jongseong trailing behind them, the air filled with unspoken words.

Nevertheless, he takes your hand and tightens his grip, not offering you a glance but reassurance. This was a big deal, this was your last chance to get in on the drug smuggling scheme and coax a confession from Kwangmin about all his wrongdoings. He knew how much pressure was on you both.

As you walk into the lounge, you see lots of the same people from last night; upper-class men with their suits, talking about nothing of substance. The place was made for VIPs of the hotel, however, Mr. Kim’s influence earned him a special section on the far right-hand side. The only way you and Jongseong could get in there was with Kwangmin escorting you, however with the drug king opening up his private lounge for you, it brings envious stares of those around you.

Jongseong notices the shift in your manner and pulls your hand to his lips, kissing it lightly before moving into the area, his protective body barricading you in case something happens. If he was half the man he was as Hwang Jongseong, Park Jongseong would be far more bearable.

He takes a seat and pulls you beside him, keeping you close. For the first time on this trip, you’re both alone with the Kims, no eyes scouring at you or observing your every move. Although you were putting on this act for the criminal, you weren’t naive to the fact that he would have eyes on you both at all times.

But now that you're alone, Jongseong, and you've raised your guard, the uncertainty of what might happen makes the situation stressful.

“It’s so nice to have you here with us today. We can only apologise for the abrupt leave of absence at dinner last night, you both seemed to need some privacy.” Mr. Kim laughs, pouring a glass of 18-year-old Yamazaki single malt for Jongseong and himself, “I assume my wife’s wonderful suggestion brought you both closer.

You could say that.

“Yes, Mr. Kim. It was an excellent idea, we’ll steal the idea for future occasions if you don’t mind.” Jongseong swirls the glass, admiring the fragrant alcohol. This might be his only time to try a £1,700 bottle of whiskey, so he jumps at the chance.

With a click of his fingers, Kwangming summons a waiter over to give you a glass of champagne, the bubbles at the bottom fizz happily, meaning it’s on the more expensive side. He truly liked to spend money, which raises your suspicion considering he is known to be cautious with his finances unless it’s on his wife. He’s up to something.

The conversation flows between your husband and Mr. Kim. You suppose Jongseong has been on this case for months, setting up a rapport with him, otherwise, why would you both even be here?

Jongseong seamlessly transitions into his role, portraying the character so convincingly that, if it weren't for the mere two desks that separate you back at the office, one could easily be fooled. He navigates a series of probing questions about how he used the inherited money, his investment strategy, and his ambitious aspiration of matching Mr. Kim's wealth. To the casual observer, his demeanour appears cool and collected. Yet, small indicators show the subtle strain beneath the surface - a tensed hand on your thigh when confronted with difficult questions, or the rare slip over facts.

Your role as his wife, whether the affection you express is genuine or artificial, remains the same: to provide comfort and reassurance. Your hand delicately strokes his arm, and you kiss his shoulder tenderly. It seems to work each time as if your presence calms him down.

The vibration of Jongseong’s phone gains the attention of everyone in the room. He thought he had turned it on silent, scared that any interference from outside could jeopardise your case.

He delves into his back pocket, retrieving his mobile. Of fucking course, it's Heeseung calling – of all the times, he chooses the most inconvenient moment.

Glancing over, you spot the contact name, panic briefly flashing in your eyes. "Baby, just ignore it; we’re with company," you suggest, offering him a way out of the awkward situation. However, Mr. Kim dismisses your words, extending his hand to signal Jongseong it’s okay to answer the call.

Your husband looks at you with concern, hesitant to leave you alone with the couple. Yet, you communicate through your eyes that you can handle the situation perfectly well and assure him that you'll be fine on your own.

He pats your head and answers the call, careful not to be too loud.

“Y/N, tell me, how would you like to accompany my wife to the spa?” Mr. Kim poses the query nonchalantly but it throws you off. Being a detective, you have a natural curiosity and question every intention and this is no different.

Shifting your gaze to Mrs. Kim she has a bright smile on her face, “Please, Y/N, it would be so lovely to spend some time with you,” You have to admit, she did seem like a genuinely warm and lovely person compared to her man. Spending a few hours with her would also help her open up; If you can’t get Mr. Kim to speak about it, maybe you can convince Mrs. Kim.

“I would love that, some R and R is just what I need,” You giggle, “Plus, it’s been so long since I’ve had some girl time.” The words you speak aren’t a lie, you could do with some relaxation, the knots in your shoulders that have been there for the past 3 years need to be unravelled.

“Excellent!” Mrs. Kim claps, “Come, Y/N,” She takes your hand, pulls you from the couch and blows a kiss to her husband who happily catches it. Aside from all the drugs and murder, you do wish for someone to dote on you like that, just once in your life.

Walking out of the lounge, you both bump into Jongseong who looks at you with wide eyes, confused, “Sorry, Jongseong, I’m stealing your wife for an hour or two.”

His demeanour stiffens, reminiscent of his initial uneasiness in the lounge. Given his previous interactions with the Kims, his suspicions are understandable. "I see. Can I speak with Y/N, and she can meet you there?" he asks, surprising you with his unexpected request. Wouldn't it be strange if he initiated having a conversation with his wife straight after receiving a phone call?

Seizing Mrs. Kim's arm, you titter into character, "Jjongie, you can talk to me later. I'd like to go have some fun. Okay? Mr. Kim is waiting for you."

He sighs, conceding, "Of course, baby." He leans in and kisses your cheek, the touch lingering, "Please be careful," he says quietly enough to go unnoticed by your spa companion.

"Do not worry, Jongseong. I'm good at taking care of myself, remember?" You whisper through gritted teeth. It was a true statement but also a dig at last night and he knows it. Your genuine feelings for him remain disgusted beneath the facade of a completely loyal wife.

He passes you and Mrs. Kim with a nod and a tongue poking his cheek, his departure accompanied by a sour attitude.

_____

As you and Mrs. Kim walk into the spa, it is like nothing you have ever seen before. The ambience surrounding the lobby is tranquil, the echos of waves from the white noise machines fill your ears. Despite being a girl who loves maximalism, you can’t help but find beauty in the sleek gold and orange furnishings that adorn the place. It’s dimly lit, with only a few lamps on throughout the area which only puts you into instant relaxation mode.

Your job doesn’t come with many perks but you could get used to this, you wonder if Mr. Kim has any friends.

Focus, Y/N. You drill into yourself. If you get too caught up in the serenity of the spa, you’ll lose your chance to move this case forward.

Truthfully, you aren’t expecting much from this conversation but any sort of intel is better than nothing. Mrs. Kim could either know every inch of her husband's secret dealings or be completely oblivious, either way, it’s an avenue you have to explore.

The receptionist sees you both stroll up to the counter and stands, bowing slightly, “Welcome, Mrs. Kim, Mrs. Hwang, It’s lovely to have you both join us this afternoon,” How did she know your alias?

“Thank you, Seola, do you have the room ready?” Mrs. Kim asks.

The receptionist nods and directs you to two masseuses who guide you into an almost pitch-black room, the only light emanating is from a Wood and Lavender Yankee candle in the middle of the room.

Mrs. Kim starts to undress and lays on the massage table, and you follow suit. It’s a little weird, getting naked in front of three people you don’t know but that feeling instantly goes away when your masseuse drops some oil onto your back.

You let out a little groan in satisfaction as she starts to work her magic, you definitely need to come here with your girls for a proper retreat away.

“Y/N, can I ask you something, woman to woman?” Mrs. Kim speaks up, breaking the peaceful silence after about 15 minutes.

“Sure, Mrs. Kim,” Your eyes roll as the girl’s hands apply pressure to your shoulder, working out the tension you’ve pent up.

“Please, call me Heejin,” This is good, first name basis with the drug lord’s missus is a step in the right direction and all you had to do was lay there and be pampered. If only everything was that easy, “You and Jongseong, you’ve been married for how long?”

Shit. Shit. Why can’t you remember what your profile said? 2 years, no, 3? No wait, married for one, it was definitely one.

While you internally battle with the facts, Heejin twists her head to look at you, eyebrows raised, “One year, it’s all gone by so fast it feels more like forever,” You joke, hoping to play it off. Being in this setting is making you complacent, you need to get your head back in detective mode.

She smiles at you, tucking her arms under her head, still looking at you, “Honeymoon phase is still in full swing I see. Tell me, was it the money?”

“Huh?” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

Clicking her fingers, the masseuses leave the room urgently. Like a wave washing over you, you realise what’s happening. She’s duped you, “Y/N, you’re not fooling anyone here, you both aren’t. I know what Jongseong wants from my husband; I’ve been observing him for a while.”

This is not good.

You sit up, wrapping a towel around your body to maintain some decency. This is twice in 24 hours you’ve been naked and vulnerable in front of someone. Next time, you’re not taking your clothes off so easily.

Heejin mirrors you, both of you are knee-to-knee. The shadows from the candle on her face make her look totally different, she looks dangerous. You should have known she wouldn’t have been as innocent as she looked, she was a Kim after all.

It’s hard to read the situation because her voice remains monotonous as she speaks, “He wants my husband’s money.”

Do you play dumb? Your persona is to be clueless and just madly in love with Jongseong but that isn’t going to play right now. She’s smart enough to see through it.

"Actually, I want your husband's money," you respond, sitting up with purpose. The confession piques Heejin's interest, and she leans back slightly to gaze upon you in a fresh light. "My Jjongie is wealthy now, but he needs more. Your husband has the means to put him in a healthier position," you say, changing the tone from serene to animosity. This is your opportunity to play her perfectly.

"What 'means' are you referring to?" She retorts. Heejin is smart, too smart.

If you wanted to catch them, you couldn’t say ‘I want my man involved in your drug ring’ outright because then it isn’t a confession, it’s you leading the witness which wouldn’t hold up in court. Your heart is pounding and for some reason, you really wish Jongseong was here.

"Heejin, you're not naive. You understand what I mean," you assert, and she nods, smirking, clearly grasping the gravity of your insinuation. "How can we establish a working relationship between our husbands?"

She leans on her palm, elbow sinking into her leg as her gaze burns into you akin to the candle beside you, “What’s in it for me?”

Like most women, she has far more power than her husband. Jongseong had been so concentrated on winning over Kwangmin that he should have been sussing out and building an alliance with Heejin.

You scoff out a laugh, “My husband is new money, do you know how many contacts he’s made in just a few years? Get Kwangmin and Jongseong into business together and I’ll make sure you have every name and detail of each one of them,”

“Y/N, I have all the contacts I nee–”

"Yang Jungwon" The name strikes the woman in front of you. The case file specifically addressed Mr. Yang several times, as well as Kwangmin's attempts to reach him for many years without success. Yang Jungwon is the leader of hundreds of black-market schemes across South Korea; whatever agreement Mr. Kim could make with him would render the drug lord invincible. Your colleague, Sunoo, has been working on catching Yang for years, but he's like a ghost, never staying in a single place for too long and far too distrustful, so he gets rid of most of the individuals he works with.

It’s an empty promise and if the rest of this mission proceeds longer than this week, you’d be the first on the chopping board either from your superior or the Kims.

Crossing her arms, she nods, “For several years, yes. And how do you know where he is?”

“He offered to work with my husband in exchange for exclusivity, Yang would work only with Jongseong, and in return he would do the same,” The lies fly out of your mouth like you’re in secondary school and you’ve been rehearsing for your Spanish oral exam.

Heejin’s eyes narrow but in thoughtfulness rather than suspicion, “Trust is not easily earned. What guarantees do I have? You could be lying for all I know.”

You pause for a moment, choosing your next words carefully, “Actions speak louder than words. Get my Jjongie a meeting with your husband to discuss it, and I’ll give you Yang’s current location.”

She appears to be carefully considering your proposal because, to her, even if there is a slight chance you are lying, it is too good an opportunity to pass up. As she begins to speak, a knock interrupts her. As the door opens, you both turn to face the spa attendants, who are holding a tray of sparkling water and cucumbers.

Exchanging a glance with Heejin, she nods her head and smirks, taking her drink from the tray.

“How good is Jongseong at poker?”

_____

“Jongseong?!” You burst into the Ambassador suite, your excitement is palpable as you search for your co-worker. “I have some amazing news. I got you a-”

However, your words catch in your throat as you witness Jongseong harshly packing Petunia with your clothes. Is it over? Did he already secure what was needed for the case?

Ignoring your attempts at conversation, Jongseong briskly zips up your case and places it in front of you. His voice takes on a stern edge as his perfect jawline clenches, "You're going home."

Confusion flickers across your face as you process his unexpected actions, “Why? Jongseong, listen to me, Mrs. Kim gave us a gateway in.”

He pauses for a moment, his gaze piercing into you. This morning, he seemed to have been softer in his manner but now it’s back to good old cold Jongseong, not giving you the time of day. After the apology, albeit through text, you thought he might have some remorse but now he’s just kicking you out like you aren’t about to give him the lifeline he needs to break this case open. He never valued you, not as a person and not as his partner on the undercover mission.

“The poker game? Yeah, Kwangmin texted me about it. I appreciate your efforts but I don’t need you here anymore. It’s a done deal.” His words sting, after all the work you put into this case he can’t just kick you off.

“I’m not going.” You stand your ground, picking your suitcase up and unzipping it, taking out the clothes you planned to wear tonight.

Jongseong releases an almost growl-like groan, forcefully pushing you away from the suitcase. He snatches the dress from your hands, roughly throwing it back in, "Listen to me, Y/N. This is MY case, alright? Not yours. I decide when you stick your fucking nose in." His face is flushed with frustration, and his eyes flicker alarmingly over you as if harbouring unspoken sentiments. There was more to this, you just didn’t know what, "Go home. Now."

Defiantly shaking your head, you retort, "I got you this chance. I am just as involved in this case now as you are." Your tone hisses with determination, "Plus, how would it look if I suddenly don't turn up tonight? A little suspicious, wouldn't you say? They'll know something is up." The attempt to negotiate with him feels futile, especially in the midst of his seething anger.

How can he be so idiotic? Surely, he understands the repercussions of his actions. If he shows up tonight without his ‘wife’ it’ll foil the entire plan.

"Get it through your thick skull, L/N. I don't need you. You served your purpose for me, so fuck off out of here," Jongseong bites out with a cold finality.

The sharp sound of a slap resonates through the room.

With all the force you can muster, you've just slapped Park Jongseong. It feels as if a primal instinct took control of your body in a moment of fight or flight. His words struck you because you know he’s not talking about the mission, he’s talking about last night.

Your hand tingles with the aftermath of the hit, and you can only imagine the soreness on his right cheek. The room hangs in an electric silence, the consequences of your impulsive action reverberating between you and your partner.

Quickly, he grabs each side of your face with force, pressing his forehead to yours. You should be scared, terrified of his next actions but for some reason, you know he won’t hurt you, an inexplicable trust courses between you and him. The way he connected both of your heads was as if he was trying to telepathically communicate with you, the intensity of his gaze serving as a silent aid to the cause.

“Please, Y/N. Please go home, don’t come tonight.”

He was scared, you could see that now. The way his voice trembles as he says your name tells you all you need to know. Reaching up, you wrap your arms around his neck, massaging him softly but before you can get too comfortable with the embrace, he pushes you away gently, holding you at arm's length.

Caught in a whirlpool of competing emotions, you try to find the right words but the mixture of emotions is too loud for you to gather any coherent thoughts in your head.

He takes your silence as surrender and moves you to the side, finding his way to the bathroom to start getting ready for tonight’s big event.

______

Lugging Petunia behind you, you make your way through the lobby with a heavy feeling in your chest. Jongseong left an hour ago to go into the poker game, not speaking a word to you.

The entire situation leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You should despise him, tell him to go to fuck after the way he's treated you this weekend – insulting your work ethic, battering your self-esteem, and ultimately deeming you worthless. He's been an unapologetic asshole.

Yet, a sense of concern for his well-being gnaws at you. You've always been an empathetic person, but this takes it to another level. When his eyes bore into yours earlier, you felt his fear, the apprehension of what the night's outcome might bring. The poker game wasn't going to be a simple, friendly competition; it held the potential for disastrous consequences.

You can’t let him do this alone.

Despite your valid anger and hurt, a sense of responsibility drives you to return to the lift, retracing your steps back to your room to change. Jongseong will probably kill you for intervening, but deep down, you know it's the right thing to do.

Minutes later, you emerge from your room, having changed your casual clothes for something more appropriate for the poker game, a skimpy gold dress that shows your tits and ass perfectly. The weight of your decision rests heavily on your shoulders, but you can't back down now. You need to be there.

As you return to the lobby, your thoughts swirl. The contradictory feelings of disdain towards Jongseong yet still having the need to protect him against your better judgment create a storm within you. It's a difficult decision of empathy versus self-preservation. Jongseong was scared because no one could predict Mr. Kim’s moves, which meant even stepping into the VIP area was a risk, you know that but how could you go back to the precinct knowing you could have helped in some way? What if something happened to your partner?

Taking a deep breath, you fix your posture and stride into the lounge, heading directly for the poker game. Just like earlier in the day, the VIP area is heavily guarded by Kim’s men but you stay unfazed, you’re getting in there one way or another.

“Can I help you, Ma’am?” One of the guards asks.

“My husband is in there, Mr. Hwang. He’s expecting me, I’m a little late,” You smile brightly but he doesn’t budge, “Could you let me in to see him?”

Turning, he talks into his earpiece and you stand there, swinging on your heels as you wait, eager to get in there. You see his head nod as he faces you again, “Go ahead, Ma’am.” That was a lot easier than it should have been but you don’t question it too much, bowing as you walk past the guards.

The room is filled with burley men in suits, they all keep a strong gaze on you as your feet reach the room ahead where the game is. It’s about an hour and a half into it, so you can only hope everything is peaceful.

It must be your lucky day because as one of Kim’s men opens the door for you, you see the Kims and Jongseong silently playing the game. At least he’s safe.

“Ah, Y/N. Jongseong said you had an emergency and had to leave?” Mr. Kim queries, glancing up at you.

Jongseong’s back straightens and he turns to you with wide eyes, his hands almost dropping his cards.

“I managed to sort it. I can’t let a little matter like that ruin the weekend, right?” Your voice is higher pitched to match your character. Honestly, it’s grating you every time you open your mouth. One of the guards pulls out a chair for you but you swerve him and sit on Jongseong’s lap, circling your arms around his neck as you give him a quick kiss on his lips, “Hi, baby.”

His left hand holds your ass up, providing some support as you get comfortable on his thighs, “Y/N, what are you doing here?” He whispers into your lips, kissing you gently. You can feel his heart rapidly beating in his chest as he rubs his hand on your lower back and ass cheeks. Since your dress was so short, half of your ass is hanging out, so the warmth of his hand on your bare skin is setting a fire in your lower belly, thoughts of last night creeping back into your mind.

“I’m not letting you do this alone, I’ll take the risk.” He hears your determined voice and nods, it’s not like he could do anything about it now, you’re in this mess with him whether he likes it or not.

You take the cards from his hands and smile, “Mr. Kim, you don’t mind if I help him out, right?” You’re hoping you’ve played your persona well enough that you aren’t deemed a threat to his chances of winning, what with being just a stupid little girl with her husband's money. Heejin knows you better than that now though and smirks at you out with her husband’s view, she’s impressed at how you came in and took over.

“Of course, Y/N, I think your husband could use some guidance.” Kwangmin jokes and gestures to the table. Jongseong is losing big time it’s almost embarrassing.

Looking at his cards you analyse the situation, whispering to Jongseong, “Follow my lead, yeah?”

40 minutes later, you and Jongseong are literally wiping the floor with Mr. Kim, all the hands seeming to fall into place. Turns out, the issue Jongseong was having was that he had never played poker in his life, reading a quick guide before coming down. It was rookie play but thank god you came when you did.

The Kims look frustrated as they lose and it’s about the get even worse because you’re staring at the straight flush of cards in disbelief. Unless Kwangmin has a royal flush or higher-ranking cards for a straight flush, this game is as good as yours.

Feeling a pinch on your side you glance at Jongseong who is looking at you intently, “Should we throw it?” He whispers. You understand where he is coming from, throwing it would give Mr. Kim no reason to throw a gasket and lash out but if you lose, there’s no guarantee he will see Jongseong as a worthy partner. It could go either way.

You shake your head, concealing the gesture by rubbing your nose against his. "No, play it. Don't fold."

“It could go south,” He debates back.

“Trust me, you need to win and we’ll deal with what comes, okay?” You kiss him, telling yourself it’s his fake wife’s actions but in reality, you did it to try and still his nerves, hoping he focuses on your lips rather than the potential threat of what is to come.

He kisses you back, his eyes shutting, deepening the kiss and prolonging it way more than you intended. Each glide of his tongue carries a weight of apprehension, the gravity of the situation prompting him to embrace the moment fiercely. If things go awry, he wants this kiss to linger as a lasting memory.

"Hwang, are you going to play?" Mr. Kim's snap pierces the tension-filled air, his frustration is evident in the tone.

Amidst the strained atmosphere, Jongseong meets Mr. Kim's impatient gaze and nods, "Apologies, Mr. Kim. Let's continue." his voice carries a confidence that contradicts his internal turmoil. As you lay down the cards, revealing the straight flush, a hushed gasp ripples through the room.

Mr. Kim's frustration transforms into an icy glare as he surveys the winning hand before him. The weight of the moment hangs in the air, and for a heartbeat, everything seems suspended in anticipation. His face contorted with suspicion, and he abruptly rose from his seat, eyes still fixated on the straight flush laid on the table.

“This is impossible,” His previous frustration is transforming into accusation, “You two…you cheated me!” His voice is heavy with venom.

Jongseong lifts you before standing up himself, his face a mirror to the gravity of the situation. Kwangmin is going to do exactly what he was scared of. His grip on your hips tightens.

The entire room is silent following his accusation but is suddenly broken by the ominous click of his holster being undone. You and Jongseong both freeze as Mr. Kim pulls out a gun, the steal of the semi-automatic catches the light.

Your throat dries up as a desperate echo of wishing you had brought your own weapon with you swirls your mind, it would have come in real handy right now. Before you have time to think, Jongseong has stepped in front of you, acting as a protective shield.

“This was a set-up, you hustled me for nearly £2 million! Your little wife knew you were losing and you called her back here, didn’t you?” Mr. Kim's voice is a vicious snarl, and the Beretta in his hands is now aimed directly at your head.

Jongseong pulls his gun from his jacket pocket, pointing it to the madman in front of you. His action caused a domino effect of guns being pointed from every angle, each of his men has both of you in their line of sight.

However, although you’ve basically accepted your fate, Jongseong doesn’t waver, “Kwangmin I promise you, you don’t want to touch a hair on my girl’s head.”

“Or what?”

“Or else your wife will become a widow.”

Jongseong's words hang heavy in the air. He means each word, his finger poised to pull the trigger. It's a testament to how far he'll go to defend you, even amidst the violent confrontation. As the safety on his gun clicks off, the room becomes enveloped in hostile silence. In this moment, Jongseong is the shield between you and the looming threat of your opponents gun. You find yourself unable to reciprocate the same level of protection for him, mustering a guilty feeling in your chest.

You wanted to help him but you’re stuck. The whole point of coming to this stupid game was to help him and now you can’t even do that, in fact, you might have made it worse by actually aiding him to win.

The standoff seems to go on for an eternity, each heartbeat echoing like a drum in the charged atmosphere. It’s a battle between the glares in their eyes, you’ve never seen your partner so focused.

“Jongseong, think about this,” Mr. Kim sneers, trying to one-up his opponent, “If you pull that trigger, you won’t leave this room alive.”

Jongseong’s expression remains stern, his gun unwavering, “I’m not afraid to die if it means protecting her.”

You don’t know what to say, whether he meant it as your fake husband or as a fellow detective, it still made your heart leap from your chest. Was he truly willing to die for you? Honestly, in this situation, you don’t want to test it out.

As you step forward, Jongseong holds you back, warning you silently not to move but as you gain a new perspective, you see Heejin staring at you with a knowing glare in her eyes. Raising your eyebrows and flicking your eyes to her husband, she understands, nodding slowly.

“Kwangie, baby,” It’s funny how she also puts on a persona around her husband, “They won fair and square. It seems Y/N is just really good at poker.” Her hand rubs his arm, snaking its way to the one holding the gun, pushing it down.

You feel like you can breathe again, the burden of possibly losing your life slowly easing. The only one who could tell Mr. Kim what to do was Heejin. Her husband’s eyes land on her, a momentary flicker of uncertainty crossing his face as he battles with the decision to listen to his wife or end this with one bullet.

“Heejin, they can’t get away with this even if they won. He threatened you.” He debates with her.

“Yes, but baby, you also threatened the love of his life. You can protect yours but he can’t protect his?” They’re both playing a tennis match with each other’s reasonings, and Heejin hits an ace. It all comes down to Mr. Kim being a family man, that’s what saves you.

Mr. Kim’s shoulders relax and instructs his men to lower their weapons. Once all guns are no longer pointed at your heads, Jongseong follows suit, bringing you close to his side. You can sense his heart slowing back down as his breathing regulates.

Subtly, you mouth a ‘thank you’ to Heejin who lowers her head in a courteous nod, “Now, why don’t we break this up and reconvene when you’re both in better minds, yeah?” She suggests.

Unsurprisingly, the whole room agrees, holstering their weapons. Kim’s men gather the poker chips in a suitcase and hand them to Jongseong who hesitates to accept. This is more money than he could have imagined he’d ever own but it also wasn’t his to keep. In one last attempt to gain trust, he pushes the case to Kwangmin, “Keep it. I don’t need your money anyway.”

It’s tactical to give the money back, you know Jongseong has a plan and you definitely trust him after his heroic display towards you.

______

As the elevator pings, you glide into your room, laughing in disbelief. You can’t believe that a poker game that began as a way to build a bridge between the two men ended in a near-death confrontation.

“I can’t believ-”

“I told you to go home, Y/N,” he interrupts, his fists tightening, “You’re so fucking stupid,”

Any chance to defend yourself is swiftly halted as his lips meet yours. His right hand cradles your face while the other holds you in a tight embrace. His actions speak volumes, conveying the fear he felt at the thought of you being in danger.

Considering his recent behaviour, you should push him away. After all, it wasn't long ago that he belittled you. Yet, his current actions and the fact that he just saved your life leave your moral judgment in disarray.

Slowly, your hands untuck his shirt, granting you access to run them up his bare torso and chest. A gasp escapes him when you dig your fingers into his pecs, and his open mouth invites the exploration of your tongue.

“I could have fucking lost you back there,” he whispers, his words trying to convey both frustration and concern. The way he says 'I' doesn’t escape your notice, as if you were his to lose in the first place.

“But you didn’t,” you lean back, locking eyes with him. “I’m right here because you protected me.”

He lifts you, reconnecting his lips with yours as he carries you to the bedroom, your legs wrapping around him tightly. Indulging in this with his track record feels wrong, but he's undeniably addicting and intoxicating.

Tossing you on the bed, he chases your mouth until he’s on top of you, his hands roaming all over your body, “I shouldn’t have had to protect you, you should have listened to me,” He moans when your leg rubs against his crotch as you desperately seek contact from him.

Even as his mouth trails kisses down your neck, he continues to challenge you. The dynamic that has defined your relationship for years isn't easily left behind, even after a near-death experience. The intensity between you both is undeniable, a blend of desire, frustration, and a history too intricate to understand right now.

The power shifts as you assert yourself, flipping him onto his back. Straddling him, you lean down to capture his lips once more. There's a hunger in the way you kiss him, “I didn’t want the precinct to blame me if you died and I didn’t do anything,” You tease him, smirking into the kiss.

His hands grab your ass as you grind against him, creating a sense of mutual desperation. Clothes are shed in a flurry, leaving behind fragments of the personas you wore only hours before.

"I don't know why I bother with you," he says, his tone tinged with both irritation and tenderness.

"Maybe you can't help yourself," you say, a taunting gleam in your eyes as you lean in to capture his lips again but he pushes you back so your head is on the soft pillow, spreading your legs forcefully, each of his palms holding you down by your thighs.

Licking his lips, he almost drools seeing your pussy laid bare for him like this, it was only yesterday he was buried deep inside you but he never got a taste of you. He smirks as he delves down, his nose nudging your clit softly, the sudden touch flooding heat to your core.

With his eyes staring into yours, he licks up your slit purposefully, his tongue ridgid as the tip of it reaches your nub. The eye contact is insane, the way he’s trying not to miss one change in your facial expression turns you on more.

His teeth nibble the sensitive area, making you yelp and groan at the same time, “Holy shit, Jongseong,” He was teasing you to get back for disobeying his orders, he knows what you need and he’s only giving you a taste before he takes it right back.

One of his hands alleviates the pressure from your inner thigh and trickles its way to your entrance, making you thrust your hips up, pleading for his fingers, “What do you want, hmm?” He asks, his voice velvet smooth. You buck your hips up again and mewl out but he doesn’t bite, “No, Y/N, use your words,” He places one more soft lick on your folds before retracting again, “Beg me.”

No chance in hell are you going to beg for Park Jongseong to finger you. The woman inside you wouldn’t allow it, no matter how desperate you are, you have too much pride.

Your defiance only makes him chuckle, a wicked smile graces his lips as he shakes his head in mock disapproval. His fingers, skilled and deliberate, find their way back to your entrance, teasing the edges without fully committing, “Come on, say it. Beg for it like I know you want to,” he goads, and the anticipation builds between you both.

His eyes are narrow as he looks up at you again, waiting. This is what you found so captivating about the sex you had last night, the charged energy you both get from how you play off one another.

Tutting, he circles his middle finger around your hole, applying just enough pressure for you to whine out. He waits again for the surrender he knows is inevitable.

"Fuck you, I can get myself off," You challenge him, but as you clench around nothing while he sucks your clit for a single second, you understand your words are meaningless, floating in the air with no substance because even if you can get yourself off, it won't be enough for you. You need him.

“Give in, come on, don’t be pathetic,” The words strike a nerve in you, urging you to slap him like earlier, but he slowly inserts his middle finger, curling it slightly as he drags it out and it makes you squirm under him, “See? You want it, I want to give it to you, all you have to do is ask for it.”

He makes it sound so simple and in reality, it is. Just one of his fingers is enough to have you aching for more.

The throbbing within you becomes an insistent pulse, the defiant act you put on now dissipating with each thump of your heartbeat, “Jongseong,” He smirks, knowing exactly what’s coming next, “Please, I need you,” The plea escapes your lips before you can stop it.

A triumphant glint sparkles in his eyes as he hears your soft voice, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” his middle finger returns to your canal but this time he’s adding his ring finger with it. Between the fucking he gave you last night and the arousal you’re feeling now, your entrance is already prepped from him, he’s just doing this for fun.

His digits set a rhythmic pace, he feels each inch of your walls as his mouth attaches to your clit once again, this time for a longer, more gruelling experience. He works the bud perfectly in his mouth, the perfect combination of lips and tongue.

The coil in your stomach starts to heat as his fingers hit a soft spot in your pussy repeatedly. He was unreal, like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.

Sensing your impending climax, Jongseong intensifies his movements, seemingly coaxing your release. His mouth and hand work in unison, skillfully stimulating every nerve in your sensitive region. The pleasure builds, bringing you to the brink of ecstasy. However, just as you teeter on the edge, he abruptly stops.

Withdrawing himself from you, he watches as your body squirms, aching for the release he has denied. Confused, you open your teary eyes, searching for an explanation. "You didn't listen to me earlier," he says as if it's a sufficient justification for withholding the orgasm you were on the verge of releasing.

“Jjongie, please fuck me,” You moan out, grabbing him so his weight is on top of you. It’s a last-ditch attempt to gain back some power in this sexcapade.

“You can’t stop begging for it now, huh?” If you weren’t so drunk for him, you would have bit back a comeback but he was right, you are so overcome with need you’re willing to do anything to get it.

Teasing you, he runs his firm length up your slit and sits it on your sensitive clit, tapping it a few times, “Tell me you’re sorry for putting yourself in danger like that,” His voice is overcome with lust and some remnants of concern as he recalls the poker game.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” You practically cry out, holding his face, “I didn’t want you to get hurt,” The confession hangs in the air, shocking him for a moment. Your sincerity, combined with the desire, results in a raw and vulnerable moment. It’s not like Jongseong thought you didn’t care about him, but the depth of your actions in entering such a crazy environment for his sake leaves him momentarily breathless.

He captures your lips with his, moving fiercely as he tries to convey the thankfulness of your selfless actions, “You’re seriously so stupid, Y/N. You shouldn’t care about me that much,” The electricity around you both shifts from pure desire to tender intimacy.

You rub his shoulders, “But I do, I don’t know why, but I do,” You say in a hushed tone, punctuating each sentence with a kiss. The words are an unexpected revelation, not even something you've consciously acknowledged to yourself. Yet, in the heat of the moment, they spill effortlessly from your lips.

Jongseong’s gaze softens, and any anger still within him crumbles away. You cared about him and he cared about you.

When you both had sex last night, he was scared when you said ‘I hate that you can’t just admit you like me’. It was as if you could see right through him in that very moment, and no one had ever done that in all his years of living. He did like you, he respected you as a colleague and a person, and he never intended to start this hate war between you both, it just happened. You were two kids eager to be the top detective, it was only natural to find you a threat to his career goals.

You reach up and stroke his face, bringing his attention back to present you, “Jongseong, please,” You reach your hand down to stroke his red-tipped cock, “Fuck me.”

Not having to be told twice, he lines up at your entrance, easing himself into you, no longer finding the need to withhold any pleasure from you. A gasp escapes your throat, mingling with his low groan. The feeling of your walls hugging him again feels incredible, “You feel so right,” The admission could be taken in two ways but he doesn’t care, the sensation of you is making his head fuzzy. He could sing your praises the whole night if you let him.

This is a complete juxtaposition to yesterday, hell, even about 10 minutes ago. The way he starts to fuck into you is so much more delicate but still forceful, it’s the perfect mixture of lust and vulnerability.

As he begins to pound into you with growing intensity, his eyes meet yours and each time he pulls back far enough to graze over your g-spot, he sees a flash of pleasure flicker over your iris’. He’s fucking you so good, you wonder if you’ll ever be able to go back to anyone else.

His arm reaches over, pulling one of the pillows from the top of the bed, he places it under your lower back, tilting your pelvis to help him effortlessly reach a new angle that has you moaning out his name, chanting it like a hymn, begging him not to stop.

Spitting on his hand, he begins to rub your clit in a harsh circle, something he learned you liked last night. He was sending you into overdrive, completely crumbling beneath him as you felt that heat in your belly once again. The difference is, this time when he feels you close to orgasm, he isn’t stopping.

“Jjongie, I’m cumming,” You warn him, spurring him on to get you off as blissfully as possible. It doesn’t take long before you’re body contracts, your walls clamping down on him. The way you’re trapping him into you brings him to the edge of his own release

His head falls back, exposing the long column of his neck, his veins standing out as he thrusts into you with more fervour, hitting you deeper. The force of his movements causes the bed to creak loudly under you. You’re just lucky the headboard was mounted on the wall or else he would have created dents.

You lean up to kiss his neck, licking up his protruding vein causing him to let out a low purr. It all becomes too much for him and he releases inside of you, his hips jutting erratically due to the intensity of his climax. Ropes of his cum shoot inside of you and it seems never-ending, the grip he has on your hips will certainly leave half-moon indentations in your skin.

Panting heavily, he collapses onto you, your breaths and heartbeats the only music dancing around the room. The weight of him feels perfect on you like you can support him easily. You nuzzle your face into his neck as your arms reach to hug him, one hand stroking his back softly to calm him down from his high.

Both of your hearts sync up, the once rapid beating now slowing down as you catch your breaths. The quiet aftermath and weight of unspoken words hang between you, both knowing that the complexities of this relationship just escalated.

He plants scattered kisses along your collarbone before getting up. You still have a little niggle in your brain which tells you this will be a repeat of last night.

But as quickly as Jongseong retreats from the room, he’s back with a face cloth, drenched in warm water. He’s trying to make it up to you, the guilt he felt when he left you to look after yourself when he knew that was his job was unspeakable. The man spent all night cursing himself for treating you that way.

“I’m sorry I was such a prick, especially with all this stuff,” He wipes your pussy gently, collecting the mix of your fluids as he apologises, “It was really shitty. I promise I’m not usually that much of a dick.”

He never meets your gaze as he speaks, yet, you feel the sincerity of his words. Grabbing his working hand you gain his attention and smile softly at him, “You’ll just need to keep making it up to me.” At your words, he gulps and his stomach summersaults, the prospect of more times like this is something he could only dream of.

“I don’t know where we go from here,” Jongseong admits, his voice vulnerable. The truth of his words settles, the experience you just shared unravelled something profound, something you both didn’t know how to navigate.

Nodding slowly to echo his concerns, “I don’t either,” The response is truthful. You had no fucking clue what this meant for both of you, all you know is that your dynamic has shifted, “We can work it out together though, right?” You offer in optimism.

Jongseong shoots his eyes to yours, a mix of uncertainty and yearning sitting in his gaze.

Suddenly, Jongseong’s burner phone dings a few times. You urge him to grab it because if it’s his undercover phone, that means it can only be one person. Reaching over to grab his trousers, he pulls the phone out and reads the messages, eyes widening and his smile follows.

He faces it to you, allowing you to read it.

Kim Kwangmin:

8.12pm:

You can hold your own kid, you’re not as stupid as you look.

I’m impressed.

I’ve got a business proposition for you. Tomorrow. 8am at the lounge.

You look at each other in sear shock, not quite believing after everything that transpired that the Kim Kwangmin was ready to offer Jongseong a way into his drug smuggling, a way to get him put behind bars.

“You fucking did it,” You whisper astounded.

“We did it,” He states, bringing your chin up to look at him, placing a kiss on your lips, sealing your mission case closed.

#enha smut #enhypen smut #enhypen angst #enhypen x reader #park jongseong x smut #park jongseong x reader #jay x reader #jay smut #aj writes #enha x reader

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empress-simps · 2 months

Text

Line That Leads To You

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem! Reader AU: Soulmate AU CW: Language, Genre: Angst with a happy ending (don't worry guys) Summary: You make Sirius realize that having a soulmate isn’t all that bad— that he too, will have his happily ever after.

Note: One of my favorite tropes to write, soulmate AUs! Sirius just needs love and affirmation. I love writing for this! Enjoy! Picture is from pinterest, credits to the owner!

You know, Sirius never really believed in those pesky soulmates stuff. It irks him to no end, and makes his head hurt.

The topic makes him snappy, bitter, and it leaves him feeling angry. To whom? The world— the one who’s responsible for everything that has to do with soulmates. He thinks it is a bunch of bollocks. It’s a pathetic little concept that everyone seems to be too invested in.

Sirius would be very much happy to tell you it doesn’t really end with a happily-ever-after.

“I’m telling you, Prongs. It’s just a bunch of crap.” Sirius tells James one time at the drawing room in the Potter Manor. James shakes his head, disagreeing with his best mate.

“It isn’t always like Walburga and Orion, Pads.” James gently tells him, eyes swimming with empathy for Sirius. “Just look at me, Lily and I are together, finally.” Sirius can’t help but scoff, shaking his head in a disagreeing manner.

“That’s because you were already pathetically in love with her before you even knew she was the one, Prongs. Same thing for Lily, but she was quite stubborn trying to deny what she felt about you. You guys are actually made for each other.” James lets out a laugh, the memories resurfacing making a love-struck smile appear on his face (Sirius gave him a disgusted look)

“That’s what soulmates are, Pads. You’re supposed to complete each other, balance the other person out” He pursed his lips and sighed, there’s no way Prongs could understand his opinion on the matter.

Complete each other, huh?

Then can someone give him a reasonable excuse on why his parents broke each other? One descended into madness; the other doesn’t really seem to care as long as the noble house of Black lineage will continue.

Sirius bites his bottom lip, deep in thought as he stares at his pinky, willing the connection to be seen; a red string that was tied into a bow that leads to Merlin-knows-where. It serves as a connection; the string that he and only his soulmate can see whenever they want. He tugs on it curiously, awaiting any reaction with bated breath. He almost scrambled away when he felt the other end also tug it. Sirius was utterly terrified, a shiver crawled up to his system, it’s foreign feeling for the Black’s eldest son. It made everything feel too real. A fact that he desperately tries to deny.

That night, before they returned to Hogwarts as sixth year students was the last time he ever willed to see the annoying little string in his pinky, not caring if his supposed other half was finding him or already found him.

Maybe it had to do with his twisted upbringing. He saw how his father cut the string tying him to their mother, the purple string that bound them together turning gray and withering away.

He saw how Regulus flinched, no one should’ve seen a scene like that, but they did. Someone severing their connection to someone who should’ve been with them through better or for worse, the one that fate intended for them. Their life got worse just after that, forcing him to flee and leave his younger brother behind at the deranged hands of Walburga Black.

“You should eat more, Reggie.” You turned towards the quiet and reserved Slytherin, pushing his plate closer to him, which made him wince. “I am quite full.” You raised a brow “None sense, all you did was sip pumpkin juice so you better do as I say or I’ll tell Evan and Junior.”

“Do you know that you boss people around quite well?” He grumbles, shoving a few spoonsful of dinner in his mouth as you hummed in approval, cracking a small smile. “I was told.” Your eyes flickered to the Gryffindor table, it seemed to gravitate you, pulling you in.

Looking down at your pinky, you willed the string to be visible to you. Seeing the red string attached to Sirius Black made your stomach churn; was it butterflies? Unease? You don’t particularly know, having mixed reactions to the string that leads to your other half.

You’ve known for over a year now, keeping it to yourself as you quickly figured out that he wants nothing to do with his soulmate.

“Reggie! Reggie!”

You exclaimed, slapping the poor boy’s arm as he was currently staying in the L/n Manor. He looked in your direction, quite annoyed, he was interrupted reading his book. “I’m reading, Y/n. You know, you should too. It’ll do you some good.” He sassed, trying to find which part he stopped reading. “My soulmate! They tugged the string!” You gushed, “They must be looking for me too, right?” You asked no one in particular, you can still feel the tingles you felt, how your heartbeat picked up, and how you felt like you were in could nine.

Quite the opposite from what Sirius felt, huh?

You never told him, never planned to. It was quite clear what his views are on the concept of soulmates when you saw him snogging different girls every week. It wrecked you; you swore you felt your heart stop beating every time you see him loving a girl other than you even just for a week. It sounds stupid and all, but you would give up everything just to know what it feels like; how he will look at you with love and adoration in his eyes, how his touch and kisses would linger on your body, and how his voice would sound like as his breath fans in your ear, whispering promises of love.

You looked at him from the Slytherin table; so close yet so far.

Regulus noticed, the all too familiar broken look in your face. His heart hurts for you, even if you do not tell him, he already knows. Seeing his brother’s indifference, Regulus’s gaze hardened. How could he have the guts to do this to his soulmate?

The memory of their mother's despair, the way she withered away after their father severed the bond, was etched into his mind. Regulus does not wish for anyone to feel that way, he does not wish upon it even in his worst enemies.

It was a pain no one should endure, a lesson that should have been learned.

Yet there sat his brother, laughing with his friends and willfully ignoring the pulls of his heart. The person who held the other end of this unseen tether, was beside Regulus. Your soul ached as you watched your soulmate. It was a betrayal of the heart's deepest connection, and it stirred a tempest of fury within Regulus that he struggled to contain.

“My brother is foolish. Eat.” He states, pushing your food and placing the cornbread on his plate to yours. She cracks a smile, chuckling. “Alright, Reggie. You’re lucky I love you.” You pat his curls, proceeding to eat the bread, smiling a little. Reggie never really shares his food with anyone, except for you. You’re the only exception.

“Padfoot.” Remus starts, looking out of the window as Sirius lays down lazily in his bed, looking at nothing.

“What, Moons?”

“If I say that I have an inkling on who your soulmate is, would you… look for them?” Remus asked cautiously. Peter and James perked up, eyes wide with shock. How could Remus possibly guess who his soulmate is? Unless… They’re also in Hogwarts?

“Don’t start with that crap, Moony.” Sirius sat up; a scowl displayed in his features as his grey eyes turned stormy.

“Don’t you even feel the slightest amount of guilt in your system as you snog other girls?” Remus frowned.

Sirius’s scowl deepened, his hands clenching into fists. “Guilt? For what, Moony? For not wanting to be chained down by some ancient magic?” His voice was a low growl, barely containing the emotions that surged within him. “I won’t be dictated by fate. I make my own choices, and I refuse to be bound by a bond I never asked for.”

Remus’s expression softened, the lines of concern etching deeper into his face. “It’s not about being chained, Pads. It’s about finding someone who complements you, who understands you in ways no one else can.” He paused, his gaze steady and piercing. “You’ve seen what happens when that bond is severed. You’ve seen the pain it causes. Is that what you want for yourself? For your soulmate who’s probably hurting somewhere?”

Sirius looks down, biting his lip and playing with the rings on his fingers. “I don’t plan on severing our bond, Moons- “

“Then what the fuck are you doing?” Remus spat, Sirius flinched, looking at anything but them. He knew deep down that Remus was right. He can’t deny he also wants to look for his soulmate. The only thing that was holding him back is that he’s scared. What if your story would end similarly like how Walburga and Orion’s did? Dread fills his system as he reflects on how he slowly realized he’s becoming like his father. Peter and James exchanged a glance, the weight of the conversation settling heavily upon them.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of finding her… Scared of repeating the same mistakes.” He paused, his gaze lifting to meet Remus’s. “But you’re right. I can’t keep running from this. It’s not fair to them, and it’s not fair to me.”

James offered a supportive smile, feeling happy for his friend. Sirius stood up, his posture straightening as if shedding the weight of his fears. “I’ll do it. I’ll find her,” he declared, his voice steady. “I owe it to both of us to at least try.”

“That’s our Padfoot.” Remus breathes a sigh of relief as Peter nods encouragingly at Sirius.

The next daylight soon came. Sirius gulps, looking around the great hall, feeling quite overwhelmed at the number of students entering for breakfast, eating, or chatting amongst themselves. For the first time in a long time, he willed the red string of fate to reappear within his vision.

Ah, there it was. The red string connected to someone from the Slytherin table. Sirius felt his heart drop, seeing the end of the string connected to your pinky. “Y/n?” The name left his lips in a hushed awe, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the string connected to your pinky. You, who laughed with such ease beside Regulus, were the missing piece.

Whether it was some brotherly instinct, Regulus looked at him, shooting him a warning stare as if to say: ‘If you hurt her, you’ll never see the light of day ever again.’

Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise, knowing eyes set on his friend. “Found her, Pads?”

“Yeah. Found her, Moony.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” James chimed in, a grin spreading across his face as Peter silently cheers him on. “Go on, before you lose your nerve.”

Sirius took a deep breath, trying to shake off the weight of Regulus’s protective stare. It was a silent challenge, a vow to keep your heart safe from his brother. With a nod of acknowledgment, Sirius stepped forward, crossing the small distance between the Gryffindor table and Slytherin.

“Y/n,” he said, standing before you, the red string pulsing with a life of its own.

You stilled, slowly looking in his direction. Eyes wide with surprise, searched his for a moment before softening. “I was wondering when you’d come around,” you teared up, making Sirius’ heart ache.

Sirius extended his hand, the red string wrapping around both your destinies. “Let’s talk, yeah?”

And in that moment, as your fingers intertwined, Sirius knew that whatever the future held, he had made the right choice. For in finding you, he had found a new path that began to unravel, one filled with hope and courage. The buzz of Great Hall continued, but both of them felt time still, feeling the bond weave into their souls deeper.

Sirius’s and Y/n’s story had its flaws, but it was theirs, uniquely woven by the red strings of fate.

#sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #soulmate au #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #harry potter #angst with a happy ending #sirius orion black #regulus black

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justagirlwholikesadam · 5 months

Text

Hard Ren

Porn Star! Kylo Ren x Fem! Reader

Summary: Hard Ren is known for not cumming during his scenes until now.

A/N: I'm biting on the bars of my enclose while i write this.

Warning: NSFW, spitting, choking, role playing, rough, happy ending, ladies we are porn stars too!

Word Count: 3.3K

Border Credit: @cafekitsune

Anyone who watches porn knows who Hard Ren is.

Hard Ren is known to have stamina like a fucking animal. He fucks like one and he’s good at it but what he is worldly known for is he never cums when he fucks. When he does cum it’s only when he’s masturbating.

Yeah, a porn star who doesn’t cum when fucking other people. Hard Ren has done interviews about it. He jokes about it and tells them that his cock hasn’t found the right person yet. This sparks something with the female porn star community because they all want to make him cum. None of them ever succeeded.

“Kylo.” The dark haired man looked up from his phone when his manager, Hux stopped the car.

“We’re here.” Kylo follows Hux out of the car and into the studio to his dressing room. Kylo performs his usual preparation before filming. 200 pushup and crutches. He curls his 150 pounds dumbbells along with lifting his barbell while Hux tells him more about the person he’s going to fuck. Kylo was in the middle of a rep when he heard Hux mumbling the name of the porn star.

“What’s her name again?”

“She’s new, you probably haven’t heard of her but she has a fan base already. Not ugly like the last one” Hux told him while typing on his phone.

Finishing his usual preparation and getting dressed with the clothes laid out for him, Hux walks with him to the set. Kylo was fixing the sleeves of his blue jean button down shirt. He goes into the mind set as a teacher, that was the script. He's done this multiple times, he plays the college professor and the girl plays the student looking for extra credit.

His head shot up when he heard laughter. Director Phasma is standing next to a woman. Phasma is showing her the story board with a pleased look. When he saw you, he’s starstruck, since you were the one that he watches when he does his masturbating videos. He plays it cool, of course but the moment you give you a smile. His cock is already hard. His most viewed video of him masturbating was thanks to you. He came on his chest to the video of you on a bed with your legs spread and your cunt of full display. He liked your moans and how you pout while playing with yourself.

“I like your work.” You tell him as Hux and Phasma speak on the set. You look up at the 6’3 dark haired man while playing with your fingers nervously.

Excitement ran up and down your body at the sight of him. “I like yours too.”

You smile at his words. He runs a hand through his hair with a chuckle. “Especially the one with you on the bed.”

"There's a lot of me on the bed." You said jokingly and he laughs. "I like them all."

You blush at his words. He had seen your work. When the camera was ready, you and him got into place.

“Please, Professor Hard Ren. I need this extra credit. I won’t pass the semester.” You begged him as you walked towards him. Ren was leaning against the edge of the desk with his arms crossed around his chest. You played with the bottom button of his shirt

“There might be something you can do for me.” Ren said, wrapping his arm around you pulling you close to him.

“I’ll do anything.” You whispered as he leaned down, his large hands pulling the dress up to your hips.

“Anything?” He asks as he cups your ass, giving it a good and hard squeeze for the camera, making you moan. He pulls you close to his chest as he tugs the thong to the side.

“Fuck.” You hear him whisper.

About to do what you do best, you start to tug on his belt. Ren leans back when he notices what you were doing. He helps you while you unzip the black slack and goes down on your knees in front of him. Your mouth drops open as you stare up at him as you pull the slacks down to his ankles. He’s in full commando, and his cock almost smacks you in the face if you haven’t caught it first. His cock was thick and pink, his fat head is begging to be licked.

Ren groans at the sight of your little pink tongue licking his cock. He grips the edge of the desk when you spit on his cock and start to use your spit as lube to start jerking him off with both hands. He tries his best to not shut his eyes because he wants to see you. He wants to see the moment you put his fat cock inside that little mouth.

He moans out loud when you start to suck his cock, gagging, his thick girth stretching your mouth.

“Fuckk.” Ren moans when he starts to move his hips forward, he uses a hand to hold the back of your head. He feels his balls tighten up when he sees your eyes filling up with tears. His thighs are wet from the drool and spit. He can see the spit dripping off the corner of your mouth.

“Yes, gonna give you a good grade. Keep sucking you teacher's cock.” He tells you as you bob your head up and down on his cock. He sees your pretty face start to turn red and he pulls you off of his cock. He grabs his cock and pats it against your cheek then trace your lips with the head of his cock.

“Open your mouth, show me that fucking tongue.” You obey and he taps the head of his cock on your tongue.

“You’re so fucking hot. You know that.” Ren leans down to take your arms. Helping you up, you were shocked when he cups your cheek, bringing your face up close to him. He kisses you while he gently pushes against the desk making you sit on the edge

You look at him with wide eyes when he pulls away from your lips. He takes his shoes off and removes his pants as well. For a moment you forget about the camera when he takes his shirt off. He looks so good on video but in person, this man was sculpted. You can see every beauty mark on his skin. Looking at his abs, you looked further down, passing the light happy trail, you can see a vein aiming down to his cock. It took all the strength in you to not throw yourself in the ground to lick it. His cock stood out, proud and hard.

He gets near you, grabbing you by the chin and kisses you again. He makes you spread your legs, pushing the dress up. He lets the camera panel over at your pussy when he pushes the thong to the side. Running his thick fingers run up and down your slick slit.

You don’t even pay attention to the camera behind him. His thick fingers rub your clit making you moan as he kneels down in front of your cunt. You feel those thick fingers slide into you.

He’s a messy and fast eater when it comes to pussy, he knows it but right now. He takes his time, he sees your cunt so many times while he comes. He couldn’t believe you were right in front of him. Looking so pretty with legs spread and your pussy practically pulsing. He kisses your mound enjoying the scent of your musk. He grins at the sound of you gasp when his nose hits your clit. He presses his lips against your lips. Licking your slick, he gets hard by how good you taste.

He grins against your cunt when moan loudly. Your moans are heavenly to him, it sounds real and not fake as the others. He feels your fingers through his hair as you gently push his face against your cunt. Ren is pumping himself as he licks your cunt, he savors your taste. He looks up when he hears you call for him. He feels his heart flip inside his ribcage when you look down at him. He whines when your hand on his hair goes down to cup his face. Ren doesn't let you speak, he quickly stands up from his knees to kiss you.

You look over his shoulder when he starts to kiss your neck. Phasma waves her hand at you, signaling you that it's fine you didn't have to say your line. You couldn’t do it even if you tried. Ren was taking control, removing your dress for you.

“Prettiest fucking tits.” He says as he leans down to kiss your breast. You blush when he practically pulls the desk close to him so he can get near you.

“I want to fuck you so bad.” He says as he looks at you, his hands grab a hold of your hips, spreading your legs open.

“You can.” You told him looking up at him with a smirk, batting your eyelashes.

“I’ll do anything for a good grade, Professor Ren.” You said as your hands grabbed his throbbing cock, slowly jerking him off, rubbing the tip of his cock with your thumb.

“Jesus Christ.” Ren moans when you use the other hand to grasp his balls, pulling them softly. You watched as he stood still as you kept touching him, he threw his head back, you bit your bottom lip as you watched his tense up.

“Come here.” He tells you, you gasped when he wrapped your legs around his waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he picks you up from the desk and walked over the couch on the other side of the office set. You hear him whisper close to your ear, he tells you to relax, he won’t drop you.

The camera zooms on to your ass when Ren sits down on the couch, holding you tight on his lap. His big hands grasp your ass, pulling your cheeks apart showing your holes.

“Can I ride you, please?” You asked him and he grins, nodding as he leans back a bit. He smiles when he notices the excitement on your face. Quickly getting back to work, he groans as you spit on his cock, rubbing it up and down on his shaft.

“Just like that.” He praised you when you rose up and gently sat on his cock. His eyes never left your face, he wanted to see that look on your face when his fat cock splits you open. He bites his bottom lip when he sees your face, that same face you give to the camera when your pussy is being stuffed.

He holds your hips when you start to bounce on his cock. He thrust upward making you cry out, he grins and does it again. You place a hand on his chest, making him stay in place but Ren being much bigger than you does it again making you whine.

“Can’t take it? Huh? Can't take your professor's big cock?” Ren asks you. He chuckles when you nod, pushing yourself on his chest then sliding back down. He grabs your arms pulling into his chest as he grunts sliding further down on the couch so the camera can go under him.

“Good girl.” He shouts as he started thrusting upward like crazy making you moan as he fucks you hard. Your ass bounces every time he thrusted up to you. Your poor pussy being stretched wide up, the camera zooms in to see Ren’s cock sliding in and out of your pussy. Your slick is running down his shaft to his balls.

Your face is squished against his hard chest as he rams into you. He holds you down with one arm and the other, he brings it up to your face making him look up at you.

His nose bumps with yours and you see him going in for a kiss.

“You feel so good.” You whispered against his lips then kiss him. You moan when his hand grips your hair making you wince when he pulls it.

He shakes his head, “No, you do.” He licks his lips as he continues with his thrusts. He hears you moan loudly, it sounds so soft exactly like the video he uses of you.

“Rub your pussy for me.” He doesn’t wait for you to respond. You squeal when he grabs you and pushes himself up. He lifts you and drops you on your back. The camera man moves standing behind him, zooming into your face.

Spreading your legs wide, you’re smiling at Ren as he jerks himself off. His eyes are wide as he stares at you. He gets turned on even more by how much you're enjoying yourself, looking so pretty rubbing your cunt in front of him. You bring your knees to your chest as close as you can. Your arms go under your knees and you rub your clit, giving it soft smack making you moan.

Your fingers don't feel as good as his, you finger yourself while looking at him. He’s staring at your cunt then back at your face. You stick your tongue out at him as you give your cunt another slap making him groan.

You’re giddy with excitement when he comes over to you, he man handles you pushing your knees further back and lowers himself. You squeal when he smacks the head of his cock on your cunt.

“How bad do you want an A+?” He asks you, raising a brow at you.

“Really bad, professor. I want it. Please.” You pouted at him.

You know he does it on purpose, he just looks down at you with a smug look on his face as he slides his cock up and down your slit painfully slowly. You huff at him and grab his cock, surprising him.

“I want that A+, sir!” You cry out pushing his cock at your entrance. You look at him with a pleading look and Ren thinks he just died and gone to heaven.

You keep on surprising him, taking control like that, grabbing his cock like you own it. Fuck, you practically did already. All of his masturbation videos ended with him cumming so much because he was looking at your videos. Of course the viewers didn’t know that, the cameras were always aiming at him, at his lower half.

“I’ll give you that A. Imma fucking give it to you.” You cry out when he thrusts into your cunt in one harsh thrust. Ren doesn’t pay attention to the camera under him, all he can stare is your face, your tits bouncing by his harsh thrusts. You were losing your grip under the your legs, trying your best to keep them to your chest.

Ren wants to feel you cum, he wants you to cum on his cock. What a dream would that he thinks to himself as he brings a hand to your clit, rubbing your slick over it. He’s rough with it, making you grin as you shut your eyes with pleasure.

“Chock me.” You cry to him as you open your eyes to stare up at him.

“You like that?” You nod quickly as he complies to your request. Ren groans loudly when he feels you clench around him when he grabs a hold of your neck, he can feel your heartbeat and it just makes him goes faster.

“Oh-h-h fuck! Shit!” Ren shouts he holds the couch with one hand as he goes balls deep in you. He feels you holding his arm, his grip around your neck tighten and he throws his head back when he feels you cum.

You are crying his name and that was it for him. It broke him completely.

“Can-can I cum in you?” He shouts as he looks back at you. You’re staring up at him with teary eyes still feeling the hard orgasm you just had.

“Yes.” You said meekly, he removes his hand from your neck and holds your chin. Keeping your head in place, staring up at him as he thrust into your sloppy pussy.

In the corner of your eye, you see the director and the crew staring at both of you with wide eyes as Ren groans loudly. You can’t help but whine when he does one last harsh thrust. He moves the couch and he keeps you in place as he fills your womb with his hot milky cum.

“F-fuck.” Ren moans as he releases your chin and slouches a bit. He cups your face as he tries to catch his breath. His thumb runs over your bottom lip and you do something that you have been craving to do since you saw his hands. Grabbing a hold of his wrist you stick his thumb in your mouth, sucking it as you stare up at him.

He feels his knees go weak and he pulls away and sits down next to you with a grunt. He has his head throw back over the couch as he sits there, with his limp cock.

Ren hears the camera man tell you to keep your knees to your chest. Phasma praises you and he opens his eyes to see you. You’re playing with his cum, rubbing his cum all over your cunt and mound.

“Fuck yeah.” A crew member whispers when you scoop Ren’s cum dripping from your fucked hole up to your lips. You made a moaning sound as you tasted it, licking your lips seductively as the camera pans over to your face.

You walk out of the shower, thanking god that Phasma was a saint when it came to her workers. She had a shower installed in the dressing rooms. You really didn’t want to go home with cum dripping out of you. Your manager had applaud to you and said Hard Ren just came because of you.

Feeling amazing after the hot shower, you got dressed with the extra clothes your manager packed for you. Fixing your hair, you grabbed your phone, looking at the recent messages from your manager. You frowned because she had sent you a message saying that she was waiting for you in the parking lot then a few seconds later. She sent you a message saying there’s a surprise for you in the parking lot.

You didn’t think much of it. You were still tired from having sex and you were starving. You just thought she was being like this because of the accomplishment you just did.

You walked to the exit still thinking about him, Ren. He was just as handsome in his videos and his cock was something to die for. You were feeling pretty good for making him cum. He looked so fucking hot cumming.

Pushing the door open you walked to the parking lot and frowned when you saw your manager wasn’t there.

“Hey.” You looked over your shoulder and saw Ren leaning against the building with a cigarette in his mouth. He’s wearing different clothes as well, dark jeans with boots and a graphic tee. He had a leather jacket on and his hair was damp.

“Hi.” You answered back and he gave you a soft smile.

“You hungry?” He asks, throwing the cigarette on the ground after blowing a puff of smoke.

“Starving.” You tell him as he walks towards you. He bites his bottom lip and for a moment he looks a bit shy.

“Me too. I know a place. Wanna come with me?” You nod at him and give him a smile. You start walking with him out of the parking lot when he tells you his first name, Kylo.

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren fanfiction #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren x you #kylo ren smut #kylo ren au #Kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren x y/n

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groceryreceiptss · 6 months

Text

𝐚𝐥𝐥'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 & 𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 | p.j.

percy jackson x reader | word count : 1.4k | requested

summary : though you were a skillful archer, you were an amateur when it came to dealing with a sword. while percy helped you trained for hours after lunch, he couldn’t help but fall in deeper with you, even though you’d probably never know it.

contains : my writing (again, warning). just fluff things <3 reader was implied as apollo's daughter, but never actually specified. oh, and a katniss everdeen reference! (because is the fic actually written by me if it doesn't include at least one thg reference?). let me know if there’s more!

a/n : i do NOT know how to write action-y scenes (even ones that are as light as this) so sorry if this comes out as flat haha. i had to get out my copy of the lightning thief just to be a tinny bit more familiar with it to be honest. also yes the title is kinda cheesy but soo is this entire fic < 3

credits : fan art by frostbite.studios, dividers by @benkeibear, pins i used (1) (2) (3)

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The afternoon sun hit the color of your eyes as you tried the move he had just demonstrated to you. Your eyebrows were furrowed in concentration and your forehead slicked with sweat. A borrowed but fitting sword was gripped in your hand, ready to clatter his. Percy and you had been going at it ever since lunch ended and yet you still seemed determined to keep going.

Percy counted and you attacked, one, two, three. Next move, you tried to thrust it into the right of his protected ribcage. But with your lovely eyes being a little too obvious and your hand still clumsy with the blade, he deflected it off easily, letting yours fall to the ground.

“Oh, I’m terrible,” you said with an embarrassed smile, pulling up your bronze helmet and dragging a hand to swipe your hair out of your forehead. You retrieved the sword and turned to ask him. “Okay, honest opinion. What did I do wrong?”

“Well…” he started, as he took off his own helmet, tucking it under his arm, “Your eyes give away a bit too much to the opponent, so I could easily tell what you were going to do. You’re still too hesitant about it I think.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, “Well, how can I not when my opponent at this given moment is Percy fucking Jackson but go on.”

Percy was thankful that the sun was taking it one for the team and became a cover for the red that just possibly covered his face. He shook his head, fighting a smile that was trying to break through his lips. Joke about it, take defense.

The lines of his mouth morphed into a teasing grin. “Is that an excuse that I hear, miss y/l/n? Since when do you play with those?” You were always so stubborn, in the best sense of the word. And Percy always found it admirable to say the least.

You raised your eyebrows before shooting back, “And if it is, it's also not unreasonable, Mr. Jackson.” That cute smile of yours taking flight in your face. He noticed that it was still the same one from when he first saw you at twelve, a few years back. Some things never changed.

“What else?” You asked again, crossing your arms with the sword pointing downward. “Come on, don't be shy. I can take it.”

He considered it before answering. “Your hand wasn’t steady enough with the sword and with the move you were trying to execute. It made it a bit… off. And hard to get away in battles.”

You let yourself collapse to the ground with a dramatic sigh, exhaustion finally took over you. Your legs stretched in front of you and your helmet and sword clanged by your side. “Never mind, I lied, I can't take it."

He laughed and sat down next to you, putting his equipment by yours. The wind was finally picking up now, bringing a sense of balance to the hot weather.

"I can never get this right.” You huffed, blowing up your loosen hair, which Percy couldn't help but think that you looked slightly adorable.

“It’s totally fine,” he promised you, words creeped with encouragement. “Just be more confident! I swear it works. Or just…” he trailed off, unsure, and then shrugged. “don’t think about it too much, I guess.”

“Contradiction, contradiction.” You said in a sing-song voice before looking at him with that inspecting face and said, “Do you drink some secret potion or something? Someone altered your ambrosia?”

Percy let out a laugh, “Your perception of me is unrealistically high, I see. I can say the same to you, Katniss Everdeen.”

Your face’s expression stretched with surprise before you nodded in approval. “That’s the best way to compliment my archery skills actually, yes. Forget Apollo the doofus.”

“Who?” Percy played in the joke, to which you answered with the only appropriate one : “Exactly.”

He clapped his hand, an idea forming in his head. "Alright, how about this. If you give it a try just one more time, I'll give you some blue cupcakes my mom just sent me a few days ago." He offered with a knowing smile, getting you too well to strike a tempting bargain with you.

Percy knew how in love you were with his mom's cupcakes. Sally Jackson made the best for the best. It had only taken one bite and he could already tell how head over heels you were with them. He might or might not be planning to try to make a batch himself as a surprise for your upcoming birthday, but he feared the baking talent of the greats did not pass onto him. These hands weren't only skilled in combat, but with a pair of mitts and an oven, they could also burn an entire kitchen down.

Still though. Seeing the way your eyes immediately lit up right now made him rethink his choices. Maybe burning down a room wasn't so bad. At least you would probably laugh at his pathetic attempt.

Your mouth split into a grin and he was brought back to the world. You shook your head in slight disbelief. "Bringing Mrs. Jackson cupcakes into this? You are not playing fair, Perce."

"That's a deal then?" He held out his hand for a shake.

You sighed, putting his hand in yours. "Fine, deal."

Percy tried to ignore the fireworks he felt as he gripped your hand tighter and pulled you up to stand. His heart felt like it was trying to push its way out of his ribs, but in a good way. Like a thrill.

"Alright, one more time," He said as he retrieved his sword and you retrieved yours. "You ready?"

"Honestly, I'm just doing this for the cupcakes now." Seriously, how much could one person make him smile in the span of five minutes?

You and Percy put on the helmets. He counted to three, and you started taking offense as he took defense. One, two, three. It all started out well. Your movements were still a bit clumsy, but you'd get better on it in no time, he was sure. And you were doing pretty good work too. That was until you were stepping back, trying to deflect his now offensive movements, and tripped over yourself. You fell to the hard ground with an oof.

Luckily, with your equipment still intact, you couldn't be hurt that much. But Percy immediately dropped riptide and got to your side.

He knew it was stupid. You and him were both warriors, you were good with a bow, he was good with a sword. Both of you had been injured multiple times in different kinds of battles, and yours had been more grotesque than his more than once, so this was absolutely nothing. Still, he guessed, the instinct to worry would just stay the same.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asked, as he gently pulled you up to a sitting position. His forehead was creased together as he looked at you, but you were instead laughing, finding your recent incident funny. "What?" He asked, couldn't help but let a laugh, albeit confused, out of his lips too. Yours were charmingly infectious.

You pointed at your face, your bronze helmet askew, voice still laced with traces of mirth. "Tell me, how silly do I look?"

He smiled, affection swarmed him. "Very silly," Should he risk it? "So silly, it's borderline annoyingly cute actually." Okay, risking it then.

But you just smiled, either welcoming it or oblivious to the actual meaning behind it. Probably the latter. You wouldn’t be convinced someone actually liked liked you even if it was plastered on a billboard. You pointed at his face, and laughed again, this time with an effort of covering your mouth. "You look so silly too, I'm sorry."

He shook his hand, bringing out a breath of laughter, unable to keep his smile from growing further under the protective gear. "Hey," he said, finally taking off his helmet and letting the wind touch his face. "It was in solidarity with you as a friend! Please appreciate it."

"I do!" You took off your helmet, letting the glow of the sun kiss your face again. Percy couldn't help but be entranced with the way you looked, still perfect even with the destroying searing weather of June. You couldn't keep doing this to him. "Sorry, I'll stop." You promised as you withdrew a laugh, but he actually wished you wouldn't. He loved hearing you laughed, it made the wind that danced around him a melodic thing, one he could be around forever—or whatever it was the poets said.

Looking at you made him understand what they were always talking and raving about, but he could never explain it.

"So," You began, "About those cupcakes?"

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#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson x you #pjo #percy jackson #pjo x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #my writing!#requested

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eddiesghxst · 7 months

Text

The After Party

this is nothing but smut and entirely based off the gorgeous and delicious request my sweet stink @mmunson86 sent me <3

credit for cute lil dividers: @cafekitsune

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18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x makeup artist!reader

summary: you and eddie celebrate after a successful night

contains: eddie is a little anxious in the beginning, grinding, oral (f and m receiving), p in v (unprotected - don't be silly), creampie, multiple L word bombs, and eddie being a sweet lil rockstar bf <3

word count: 4.5k

-masterlist-

The Oscars.

A night full of pretentious actors and actresses who walk with their noses high in the air with straight backs and posh accents to match.

It’s a load of bullshit, is what Eddie thinks.

Maybe not bullshit— that’s a harsh way to put it— but it’s definitely not any place for a metalhead rockstar, let alone four metalhead rockstars.

Yet, here Eddie is, preparing to step out of a black SUV and into the swarming crowd of flashing lights, nameless faces, and a hailstorm of screaming questions. Not the ideal way Eddie would choose to spend his Sunday night, but he’s more focused on what will come after the award show.

A night spent with you.

His lucky charm.

You and Eddie met many moons ago, back in ‘91. Corroded Coffin was finally going big and landed a shoot for their first official music video. Eddie hadn’t believed the day could get any better, but then you came in, all panicked and spewing apologies for running late. And you were gorgeous; everything about you was perfect: your hair, your lips, your eyes, your hands, your legs. Everything. And, well, Eddie was stoked to find out you were a part of their makeup crew for the day.

Obviously, Eddie managed to end up in your chair, and it’s the best decision Eddie ever made— because now, four years later, Eddie’s riding to the fucking Oscars with the love of his life.

Fuckin’ ace, right?

When Eddie asked you if you were doing anything on the night of the Oscars, you had initially thought it would be to do his makeup since you don’t often attend these types of things with him, but he quickly shut that down, “No, I want you to come with me— you do know you’re also my girlfriend, right?”

You were surprised because, well, shit, it’s the fucking Oscars, but even if you insisted that Eddie should take Wayne instead, he refused to take no for an answer, and now he’s thankful for his stubborn manners because you look stunning.

Eddie can’t wrap his mind around how beautiful you look tonight. You always look beautiful, but tonight, it’s a different tier of Disney princess incarnate. You’re breathtaking, Eddie thinks as he watches you apply your lipstick.

You’re wearing a custom-made all-black lace Chanel dress; it hugs you in all the right places and sits around your chest in a sinfully perfect way that has Eddie shifting in his seat every now and then.

Eddie doesn’t realize you’re talking to him until you reach out and touch his knee, “Huh?”

Your lips curve into a soft smile, “You doing okay, hon?” You ask as you squeeze his knee.

Eddie hums, resting his hand over yours and curling his fingers around yours to bring your hand to his mouth, muttering into your knuckles as he kisses your warm skin, “Peachy.”

It’s not Eddie’s scene; award shows like this. More so because Eddie is a singer and not an actor, but the band was nominated for best documentary feature. For the past two years, Corroded Coffin has been working day and night on their rise to fame documentary— and fuck, did the film pull numbers.

Initially, the boys hadn’t imagined the movie would get this much attention, and Gareth wouldn’t believe it even if you showed him the actual numbers, but reality settled in when they got the letter for their Oscar nomination.

The boys have been excited, to say the least. Eddie has been preparing a speech for months now and has been talking about it for weeks on end, and now that the day has come, Eddie’s a nervous wreck, and apparently, he’s shit at masking it because you’re leaning over to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“You’re gonna do great. You have nothing to worry about.” You assure Eddie with a squeeze of his fingers, and Eddie thinks you’re right— there’s nothing to worry about, right?

————

Wrong.

Eddie was wrong.

The show went great. Corroded Coffin won, and Eddie did somewhat okay on his half of the speech, but whoever the idiot was that was in charge of seating arrangements sat you right next to Steve fucking Harrington— and god, Eddie couldn’t stand how close Steve leaned in each time to speak over the chatter of the crowd.

You’ve mentioned Steve in the past, something about working together on a past film, but Eddie wasn’t aware of how close you two actually are— and is it a crime to get grumpy when a guy is clearly fiending for your girlfriend? Eddie doesn’t think so.

But how can Eddie be upset when you’re peppering wine-sticky kisses all over his face?

“I’m so fuckin’ proud of you.” You mumble between each kiss.

Eddie can feel the curve of your smile against his skin, and his stomach flips as he squeezes at your hips, pulling you closer as he melts into the plush hotel covers.

“You’re so sweet. Got this hotel for me when it’s supposed to be your night?” You hum, pressing your body into Eddie’s as you leave one wet kiss against his chin. Eddie smiles, “I wanted to do something nice,” Eddie shrugs. “It’s a celebration for us both, princess. You were a part of the journey, too, you know.” He presses a kiss to your lips, and you snort.

“Barely,” you grin. “But I’m honored to have been mentioned in your speech.” You dust your nose across Eddie’s, and Eddie hopes you don’t see the blush that rises to his cheeks at the mention of the heartfelt words he’d said to you while on stage. It made the crowd awe and coo, and you had tears in your eyes when he found his way through the arena back to you, wasting no time in giving you a bone-crushing hug and an excited kiss.

Eddie’s hands trail over your back to squeeze at your ass, humming against your lips when you push back against his touch. Eddie’s fingers curl into the fabric of your dress, “Take this off,” he grumbles, and you smile, kissing him once more before pushing yourself up, “Not so fast, I’ve got a surprise.” You crawl off his lap and roll your eyes when Eddie groans at the loss of contact.

You fondly gaze down at your boyfriend dramatically splayed out on the hotel bed and snicker as you softly kick at his foot, “Pause the theatrics and unzip me, please?”

Eddie sits up with a grunt, lips twitching when he sees the smile on your face as you turn your back to him. Eddie’s fingers are cool and gentle when they brush against your skin, knuckles grazing down your spine as he unzips the dress. You hold the dress to your chest so it doesn’t fall, and you shiver when Eddie leans forward to press a kiss right in the center of your back, his hands slinking into the opened dress to curl around your warm stomach. Your teeth bite into the smile of your lip as you shimmy out of his hold, teasing him for being greedy and ignoring the annoyed remark he sends toward you.

Eddie watches, lovestruck and in awe, as you saunter into the ensuite and disappear behind the closed door. And as Eddie sits on the edge of the bed, watching the shadow of your figure move beneath the door, he can’t stop himself from asking, “So, what’s up with that Harrington guy?”

“...Steve?”

Eddie tries not to let irritation seep into his tone, but he rolls his eyes and nods as he responds, “Yeah… Steve.”

You knew Eddie had been thinking about your interactions with Steve ever since you found your seats and realized you were sitting next to your longtime friend. It was all friendly, an excited hug to see one another after so long, followed by a lot of conversation throughout the night. Eddie didn’t interrupt, but he kept his hand on your thigh for most of the night.

You had been extra touchy with Eddie all night to remind him that Steve is not who you want and you only have eyes for Eddie, but it seems to have still been on his mind.

You shrug, even though Eddie can’t see you as you slip on the intricate lingerie. “I told you, babe, we worked on a set together a while back in like ‘89.” You respond before adding on with a joking tone, “He’s too famous for me now.” Eddie immediately responds with, “That’s not true.” and you smile as you strap the garters around your thighs.

You can practically hear Eddie’s gears turning before he speaks up again, “I didn’t know you knew so many people in the film industry.”

Your turn to see yourself in the mirror as you respond, “I mean… sure, Eds, why does it matter?” You ask as you slip on a robe over your decorated figure.

“It doesn’t matter! I mean— it does matter, but I’m not like… bothered.” You giggle as you tighten the robe around your body before swinging the door open, stepping out, and gazing at your flustered boyfriend. The first few buttons of his shirt are open, and his lips are stained red from the wine you’d shared at dinner. His brown eyes are wide and shiny from the light influence, and your heart squeezes within your chest as you step in between his legs and cup his face, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose and then his forehead. “What’s wrong? You’re upset about Steve?” You hum.

Eddie pouts, ringed fingers sinking into the soft material of your robe. “No.” He grumbles. You smile, tilting his head up so he looks at you; you press the palm of your hand against his eyebrows, gently pushing his bangs out of the way. “You have nothing to worry about, Eds. Steve is just a friend… and I’m like ninety-nine point nine percent sure he has a crush on you.” Eddie rolls his eyes as he squeezes the softness of your hips, “You’re just saying that.”

You shake your head with a snort, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you move to straddle his hips. Your robe shifts from the position, and Eddie’s eyes flicker to the small open view he has of your chest, and he groans at the sight of black straps and lace. You shift on his lap, grabbing his attention as you reply, “I’m not actually,” You hum, leaning forward to press a wet kiss to Eddie’s jaw. He breathes, warm fingers ghosting over your stocking-clad legs and squeezing the thick of your thighs. “Everyone wants you, Eddie.” You whisper as you pepper kisses across his jaw and neck.

Eddie’s hands smooth up your sides and back, ghosting over your neck to cup your face and tilt your head, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as you smile and mumble, “S’too bad, you’re stuck with me.” Eddie hums at your words, and you lean in to kiss him again, “Forever.” You add with a joking tone.

“I don’t mind forever,” Eddie mutters against your lips, and your heart flutters as you imagine forever with Eddie. Settling down in your home together, maybe raising a family, getting a dog or a cat, growing old together. Forever. You want it.

Eddie’s hands are still roaming your body, and you sigh when his fingers gently squeeze over your covered hips. “You gonna show me the rest of my surprise?” Eddie looks at you with hunger in his eyes as his fingers hook into the straps of the garter, pulling and letting it snap against the skin of your thigh and snickering when you jolt with a yelp. “Because these are giving me ideas.”

You giggle, “Ideas?”

Eddie nods, softly nipping at your chin, and you roll your eyes before nodding down at the tied belt of the robe, “Fine then. You can open your gift.”

Eddie’s like a kid on Christmas when you give him the go-ahead. He’s always eager to unravel you in any way, shape, or form, and you have yet to find yourself growing bored of watching him indulge in his favorite toy— you. His gaze is excited, and his fingers make quick work of untying the loose knot, tossing the belt to the side, and pushing open the sides of your cover-up.

“Jesus fuck…”

Eddie is speechless for the most part, mind struggling on which parts of you to focus on and which parts to touch because every inch of you is just so fucking perfect. Eddie pushes the robe off your shoulders, fingers warm and gentle as they drag down your arms, running over the tops of your thighs and gently squeezing your hips. And then he sees it— the fucking words woven into the fabric of your black panties.

Oscar Winner’s Only

In red cursive lettering. Eddie’s lips quirk into a smile, and you grin as he surges forward to press a searing kiss against your lips, “God, I fucking love you.” He groans as he flips you over, ignoring your squeal as he presses sloppy, wet kisses to your neck.

“You like it?” You ask, and Eddie moans against your skin before sitting up to look at you, “I fucking love it, baby. You’re so fucking good to me,” He kisses you and you hum, “I want you.” He adds.

“Want you all the time,” Kiss. “Every day.” Kiss. “Every second.” Kiss. “Three sixty-five, baby. You’re so fuckin’ it for me.”

You preen, arms wrapping around his shoulders to pull him in close as your legs cinch around his waist. You sigh heavily into a kiss, your body melting into Eddie’s when you feel him stiff against your core. You squirm, “Show me.” You whisper against him.

Eddie thanks you for the precious and thoughtful gift as he unwraps you from the lacey garments because even though you look like a goddess wrapped in lace, Eddie can’t take a single barrier between you— “I need to see you. All of you. Every inch.” You don’t argue with him on that and allow him to undress the little clothing you had until you’re bare against the hotel sheets. It’s a blurry whirlwind of clothes, kisses, and soft praises as you and Eddie grapple at one another, yearning to feel skin on skin.

Eddie’s kneeling over you, veiny and decorated hands smoothing over your spread thighs, his hair now pulled back into a shitty excuse of a bun— and god, he’s so beautiful. Stark naked body on full display in front of you, tattoos fluttering alive with the steady rise and fall of his chest. Wisps of hair escaped his grasp when he tied his unruly locks, and they now frame his face in an almost heavenly way, and you want so badly to capture his essence in this very moment. Snap a picture and keep it tucked away so you can always gaze at and admire him in this moment.

Eddie’s cock is hard and almost leaking as it stands proud between your bodies, and you want to reach out and touch him, but Eddie is leaning over to kiss you and mumble instructions for you to turn around.

A shiver rolls up your spine in excitement as you flip over, grabbing one of the pillows to hold beneath your chest. You rest your head against the height of the pillow, goosebumps painting all across your body in anticipation. You expect Eddie to hitch your hips back towards him and pull you up to all fours. You expect him to be as hungry and eager as he always is because you and Eddie usually play that way. Rough, hard, toe-curling and sloppy. But you’re surprised when you feel Eddie’s gentle touch travel up the expanse of your thighs, ass, hips, and back, the pressure of him leaning over you to push your hair away from your neck and press a soft kiss to the warm skin.

You can feel him, hard and heavy between your ass, and you can’t help but push your hips back into him. Eddie moans, pressing wet kisses just below your ear, one of his hands slinking around your body and dipping between your hips and thighs to find your soaked and throbbing core. You moan when his fingers explore the familiar area, teasing and dipping and caressing. Your hips move with him and, in turn, allow you to rub against him until he’s panting against your skin.

“I want it, Eds.” You pant. Eddie hums as he sinks a finger into you, your legs instinctively spreading more beneath him. “Yeah?” He hums, and you nod your head against the pillow. “I wanna taste you first.” He responds, pressing a kiss to your temple. You whimper when his finger ticks up against your spot, thighs twitching in pleasure. “Can I taste her, princess?”

You nod desperately, “Yes,” you pant, “Yes, please. It’s yours, Eddie.”

Eddie’s fingers slip from your core, and he slinks down your body, smattering wet kisses all over your back as he goes. Your heart races as he presses one last kiss to the bottom of your spine before gently tapping your hip. You raise onto your knees at his kind instruction, opening yourself and presenting all you have to him. Eddie groans, hands smoothing over your ass and squeezing the warm flesh before parting you open for his gaze. You whimper at the vulnerability but find yourself clenching in excitement anyway.

Eddie leans forward and kisses the spot where your cheek meets your thigh, “You’re so pretty, baby.” He presses another wet kiss to the other side as his fingers slide through the messy and sticky expanse of your cunt. “So perfect,” He kisses you again. He keeps playing with you as his other hand squeezes the dip of your hip and thigh, “All mine?” He says. You squirm and nod, voice needy and small as you reply, “All yours.”

Eddie leans forward, tongue warm and wet as he drags it up the length of your pussy. You moan loudly, fingers curling into the sheets as he palms each of your ass cheeks and immerses himself in your heavenly waters. He’s calculated with it, soft and languid strokes paired with toe-curling suckling moments over your clit. He moans against you, nose pressing against your ass as he laps at every inch of you.

He parts from your dripping wet folds with a soft gasp, and you moan as his fingers go back to playing with your clit. He smears sticky kisses over the flesh of your ass and thighs, mumbling sweet praises and words as you whimper his name, “M-more, Eddie, please.” You slur.

“I want you to cum on my tongue.” He softly says into your skin, fingers dipping into your pulsing center. You gasp, squeezing his fingers as your legs quiver. “Can you give me that, sweetheart?” He asks.

You nod, wriggling back into his touch, and Eddie hums in appreciation before diving back into you. He slips his fingers from your cunt to hold your hips still for him, wet fingers digging into your skin as his tongue drags through your folds. You gasp when he licks one long journey from your clit to your ass, and Eddie hums as you shiver. He’s a tease, never giving you the rest of what you want as he goes back to devouring your pussy. You don’t mind though because soon, Eddie has you seeing stars.

The feeling is all-encompassing, a lick of fire rolling over your entire body as you quiver and shake in his hold, position faltering until Eddie has to hold you up with a hand pressed to your pelvis.

He keeps going until he’s had his fill and lets you gently fall onto the soft covers in exhaustion. He watches your back rise and drop in heavy breaths and leans over to kiss the middle of your spine. You hum, hips rising to meet his, and he smiles against your shoulder as his fingers wrap around your hips. “Flip over; I wanna see you.”

You’re an angel, Eddie thinks.

Your eyes are clear and blissed out when you look at him, lips swollen and tinted from biting and licking them in your depths of pleasure, and there’s a thin sheen of sweat over your body that makes Eddie’s brain short-circuit. Your hands drag over his arms and his shoulders, softly pushing in an indication that you want to switch. Eddie doesn’t protest, hands finding your hips as you both swap positions so you can straddle him.

You can feel the heavy weight of his cock against the inside of your thigh when you lean in to kiss him, and it makes you squirm. You want nothing more than to lift your hips, line him up, and sink down onto the length of his cock, but you want to taste him first. You want him to feel loved, to feel needed and wanted.

You kiss as much of him as you can on your way down to your destination between his thighs— with the anticipation and excitement bubbling in your gut, they’re more sloppy and needy than intended to be— but Eddie seems to enjoy it, considering the pearly white smear of cum already leaking from his tip.

You smile, settling on your stomach and wrapping your fist around his cock, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the tip. Eddie moans, reaching out to rest a hand on the back of your head as you wrap your lips around him, softly sucking and licking.

You take him slowly, warm mouth sinking over every inch of him until he reaches the back of your throat. Eddie always loses his wits when your mouth is wrapped around him, and most of the time, it doesn’t take much before he’s thrusting up and fucking your throat, but tonight Eddie only wants to sink into the euphoric pleasure. You’re all around him; the smell of you is on the sheets, the taste of you on his tongue, the feeling of your warm mouth dragging over every inch of his cock, your nails softly scratching up his twitching thighs. Eddie thinks he might be in heaven.

He won’t last much longer if you keep sucking him this good, so he tugs you off his length, wrapping a fist around himself as he looks down at you with low eyes, “Come here, baby,” He pants, “Come sit on it.”

You were eager to have the taste of his cum on your tongue, but your empty core clenches at the thought of Eddie filling you to the brim, so you crawl your way back to straddling him.

Eddie kisses you feverishly, letting go of his cock to grasp at your waist as you settle over him. You gasp when his cock slips against the wetness of you, and your hips rock against him, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you press your bodies together. “F-fuck,” Eddie stutters. He wraps an arm around your middle, aiding your movements as you grind against him. Eddie’s lips dust across the warm skin of your shoulder, and he softly kisses the area. You whimper, nuzzling your face against his neck as you whisper for him to put it in.

Eddie reaches a hand between you both, and you lift your hips so he has room to grasp himself. He languidly strokes his tip up and down your pussy before lining himself at your entrance. You wriggle yourself down onto him, moaning when his tip slips in.

“Oh fuck,” Eddie moans, fingers tightly gripping onto your hips, “Take it all the way in, baby.” He presses encouraging kisses across your neck and jaw.

You whine when you finally have all of Eddie pressed into your cunt, your pussy fluttering around the base as he stretches you. You shift your hips and whimper, “Feels so good, Eds.”

Eddie runs his hand up your back, caressing your body as he subconsciously shifts his hips up, bullying his cock deeper into you. You lean in to kiss him, and it’s not the best kiss you’ve ever given, but it’s filled with nothing but soft appreciation for the man beneath you. “I love you.” You remind him, hot lips brushing over his as you speak. Eddie’s cock twitches within your walls, and you pulse around him. “I– fuck,” Eddie doesn’t get to finish his sentence because the drag of your velvet walls on his prick is mind-numbing.

You sink back onto him and hum, “You love me, Eds?” You softly say into his neck. Eddie nods quickly and desperately, heavily swallowing as you lift again. “Yeah. Yeah— fuck. I love you, baby. So much.” He breathlessly pants, choking on a moan when you slide down his cock with a sinful grip.

You’re overwhelmed with pleasure, your mind becoming a blur of sensations, and Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. You whine, wriggling your hips against his, and Eddie coos as he pulls you in tighter. “Need me to do the work, princess?” He softly offers, a gentle hand petting back your hair. You nod against his shoulder, grinding down onto him and pulsing. Eddie sinks lower into the bed to plant his feet on the mattress, causing him to inch deeper into your cunt. “Ah,” you moan, “Yeah. Yes— give it to me, please.”

Eddie doesn’t waste another second, smoothing his hands over your sides and thighs before situating his grip over the globes of your ass to begin thrusting into you at a steady pace. It’s deep and slow, and every single thrust is the right angle, and he has you moaning and grasping onto his shoulders for dear life because “I’m gonna cum.”

Eddie’s head drops back onto the sheets, eyes shut and lips parted as your wet lips smear across his shoulder and neck with each thrust. “Let me feel it, princess, come on.” He encourages.

Your toes curl, and your body tenses as you topple over the edge, spiraling into the warm pool of pleasure. You’re moaning Eddie’s name as he presses his lips to your temple, mumbling how much he loves you and pumping himself to the top of his climax. “Inside, Eddie. Do it inside.” You softly gasp.

Eddie presses into you with a deep groan, pumping his entire load into you. It’s a familiar feeling, having Eddie cum in you, but he’s so deep, and he’s holding you so tightly that your chest squeezes with so much love for him, and you barely notice your eyes welling with tears until Eddie’s shifting back to lift your face. His eyes soften, like he already knows what you’re feeling, and he softly kisses you until you melt into him.

You’re fragile like this, and Eddie knows, so he doesn’t even think of untangling himself from you until you softly sigh, nuzzling your head against his neck and shifting your hips. Eddie groans, dropping a hand to squeeze at your hip in warning of his sensitive cock. You mumble a soft apology, and Eddie brushes it off with a quick peck.

And in a very loved and typical Eddie-fashioned way, he breaks the quiet and soft atmosphere with a sudden question, “So,” he clears his throat, “What were you gonna do with the panties if we didn’t win the Oscar?"

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heart2beom · 1 year

Text

totally unlabeled kisses

➞ pairing: best friend!beomgyu x f!reader

➞ synopsis: in which you and beomgyu teeter between being normal best friends and well...best friends who makeout from time to time.

➞ genre: fluff, comedy, b2l

➞ notes: i just realized how much im going to exhaust this trope on the blog, with the event + my other big fic...oooh, there's going to be some repetition here. by the time i'm done, won't be able to write anything b2l related. request + request.

taglist: @boba-beom , 700 event masterlist!

Questions you've grown to be annoyingly accustomed to at some point in your life: "What college are you going to?" — that one was a pain for a few months, "When are you getting married?" — this one’s going to be a pain for a few decades, "Is it that time of the month again?" — you sorta learn to filter this question out of your head.

Questions you haven't built tolerance for: "Are you guys together?"

It's ten times more aggravating when it’s always, always about the same person. Y'know, none other than the annoying, but to his credit, somewhat funny, and sorta loveable goofball that is Choi Beomgyu.

Each time, you'd say a similarly repetitive response: "No, we're just friends." Which is exactly what it was. Beomgyu is your best friend. Has been your best friend— for, like, forever.

Starting right from the torturous tween stage that was middle school, to now, it's the question that followed you both to the hells of earth. The era of awkward bowlcuts and invisaligns that fooled no one have been long behind you, yet it seemed that the theory you and Beomgyu were secretly together never passed. Ever.

Sure, you get it, it's the childhood friends to marriage descend that gets everyone swooning, but that was totally not you and Beomgyu.

Even after what happened two months ago. You decided to lean a little too close that day, and somehow, your lips captured his, at a house party, in god knows whose closet. You’re not sure why you went for it—you liked to blame the drinking game you played a little before this, or the darkness of the closet, or the way his breathing was magnified to your ears, how it synced with yours. You don’t even remember how you got in the closet with him.

What you do remember is how the kiss was a little hesitant and trying, tongue testing the waters before Beomgyu decided on his own to tilt his head at an angle, turning the chaste kiss into a little more.

You liked it.

You liked how his lips were soft, yet the slight roughness of the kiss had you forgetting it was Choi fucking Beomgyu you had your arms around—the boy you’ve seen pick his boogers more times than you’d like to count. His rather large hands cupped your cheeks, still kissing you like his life depended on it.

You call it the Closet incident.

…There were lots of repeats of the Closet incident.

On top of a kitchen counter, in front of your flat’s entrance, in the hallway of Beomgyu’s dormitory, on the couch, in a movie theater as your unknowing friends sat a seat in front of you focused on the gore scene, in Beomgyu’s rusted, mario kart that he calls a car. But obviously, no feelings involved. Obviously.

"Can you make me look good this time?"

You scoff incredulously. "I always make you look good."

It’s a Friday and Beomgyu came over to your place to pick you up for your friend dates, like usual. Which consisted of going to the mall, then a trip to the local movie theater, and finally getting your favorite frozen yogurt. His go-to flavor being red velvet, and yours good ol’ chocolate mint. You never hear the end of it from Beomgyu.

"I have something to ask by the way." Beomgyu throws his head back on the couch, staring up at you. He’s situated on the floor, between your legs as you braid his hair. What? It’s therapeutic.

“You know how Heeseung asked you if you were dating anyone yesterday?”

“Turn your head to the left, Gyu.” you mutter, eyes narrowing as you focus on his hair, taking the braiding pretty seriously. “And yeah? What about it?”

He doesn’t budge, arms lazily crossed. “Why’d you tell him no?”

Your fingers stop the braid, blinking a few times down at Beomgyu. “Because…I’m not dating anyone.”

He naively blinks a few times, still staring up at you, before cracking a weirdly conflicted smile, as if he got to his senses. Then he turns his head to the left like you asked him to earlier, “Oh, yeah, I mean… yeah.”

You manage to give him a quick smile back, albeit a little stiff, as you refocus your attention on his hair again. But it’s near damn impossible, thoughts as to what Beomgyu was trying to imply clouding your head too much for proper focus.

What’d he want you to say? You weren’t dating anyone, Beomgyu knew, you knew, everyone knew. But he was still confused in those three seconds, as if that wasn’t true. And that had your head in a jumble.

It wasn’t like this was the only thing he’s done or said that had you questioning what he felt about you was a little more than platonic.

Like, yesterday as an example, when Beomgyu showed up by your side, presumably out of nowhere, a hand wrapped around your waist when Heeseung approached you.

Or the time you were playing truth or dare and Taehyun asked him if he liked anyone that was in the room, and you swear he found your eyes for a few seconds before smiling and downing his drink— choosing to leave the question unanswered, the rest groaning of how he was no fun.

You’re reading too much into things…right?

It’s all you’ve been thinking about at the time of your slumber. And it made the occasional, random makeout sessions that much more impactful. Your finger lingering on your lip, starstruck after just a single peck from Beomgyu, as if you were a middle schooler who just got her first kiss.

“What do you think?”

He looks at himself through his phone’s camera at every possible angle, a genuine smile creeping up his face, “It’s so cute, I love it.” When he practically jumps on you, you fall to a laying position, and laugh. He resembled a puppy. “I told you you should be a hairstylist.”

The proximity of his face near yours doesn’t faze you—or you at least hope it looks like that. You quirk a brow, “Since when?”

He taps his index finger on his temple, “Telepathy. I tell you everyday through telepathy.”

Surprisingly, that gets you to snort, broken completely out of your previous reverie— he was ridiculous.

“I like it so much I want to kiss you.”

He’s quick to follow through, landing a silly peck on your lips. You know it didn’t even look that good, but he still managed to make you feel like you gave him the hairstyle of the century. Which had no business making your heartbeat just a tinge faster. Oh, it’s bad for you.

You adjust your position by attempting to sit up straight. He catches that, a confused smile as he gets off you. You purse your lips, the awkward silence not a bother as you think of ways you could put all your confusion the past few weeks into one simple sentence.

“Beomgyu, do you… like me?”

You can tell that by the sudden question, he’s taken back, the corner of his lips falling. Before he does his habit again, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, a hesitant grin plastered on his face. “I mean, isn’t it a little obvious?”

You furrow your brows. “Uh no, no it wasn’t …obvious!” It wasn’t! Beomgyu was naturally a romantic, how would you catch that he was serious?

He raises his brows. “What, did you think I kissed you all these times because I was doing it for the shits and giggles?”

You think over it for a second. “…Let’s be real, you did have a lot of fun shoving your tongue down my throat in public.”

“Busted.” he puts up his hands as mock retreat, then sighs, “But for reason. This isn’t how I thought this…would go. But, yeah…I do like you. In the gross romantic way. Maybe L-word you too. I don’t know, I just know that my heart dumbly wholeheartedly believes that you’re my soulmate. For whatever reason.”

You feel your mouth dry, looking up at Beomgyu, your movement still. “Since when?”

Beomgyu chews down on his bottom lip, hesitating before he quietly says, “Since you got me the cookie and cream ice cream sandwich as an apology for saying my ex-girlfriend was butt ugly.”

It’s so comically specific yet it’s still funny how you immediately say, “Seventh grade.” Because you also remember, you very clearly remember the day Beomgyu had bawled his eyes out, because he just got dumped, and your attempt of trying to comfort him by saying he had awful taste. Turns out, people don’t like being told that their ex wasn’t good looking fresh out of the relationship.

The fury you felt at the sight of seeing Beomgyu so sad could’ve been explained by just the fact that you were extremely close friends, but you’re now left wondering if you also liked him a little back then.

“I like you too.”

Beomgyu huffs out a laugh through his nose, shaking his head, “You don’t have to say that just because I said it. I don’t cry over rejections anymore.”

Your eyes wander down to his lips for a split second. Then to the man in front of you, his loose fitted signature flannel so…Beomgyu. His quirky styled hair, so fitting on him. No matter how much he matured, his features undeniably handsome, he was still the boy you proudly call a best friend. Your best friend. “No, I like you. In the gross romantic way.”

You’re more sure now in comparison to seven years ago.

He falls silent, staring at you before he lets out a quiet, “Oh.”

You sit there, playing with your hands as you wait for Beomgyu to say something a little more than that. You’re not sure what’s going through his head, you often feel like, even after knowing him for so long, you don’t know what happens in there. At all.

You’re caught off guard when you feel Beomgyu’s familiar lips on yours, but quickly linger against them, letting him take a hold of you, as he was above you again.

You feel his smile break into the kiss and you stop for a moment. "Are we a couple now?" he asks, barely a whisper. You nod.

"We swore to everyone this would never happen." You swore to yourself that you didn’t like Beomgyu ‘like that’. Always so sure, so sure that he was nothing but a friend.

Everyone saw it but you. How idiotic did you look?

"Exactly. We're never going to hear the end of it. But..."

"But... it's worth it?" you finish his sentence.

You like the way his eyes glint under the dim light of your living room. You like the curve of the ends of his lips, the way they create the cutest, most adorable whisker dimples. He lays his forehead on yours. "Like, thirty thousand times worth it."

"People usually say a million..." you tease with a tilt of your head.

His breath fans against your skin before smiling and leaning his head in for another kiss. He catches you by surprise again, but this time you’re a little more prepared, your arms quickly finding their way, hanging off your freshly new boyfriend slash best friend for life’s shoulder. But then he pulls away.

Way too fast. "That was to shut you up for being a smartass." You're slightly left out of breath, your chest softly rising and falling as you look at him confused.

“And this…” He kisses the tip of your nose, “Is for not turning down Heeseung yesterday and making me stupidly, ridiculously sulky."

You catch onto what he’s doing, giggling, but still ask "What are you doing, idiot?"

He doesn't stop, still as smiley as ever. He kisses the temple of your cheek, "This is for all the years I've chased after your oblivious ass."

Your other cheek, "This is for…”

Suddenly, he peppers kisses all over your face and your giggles turn into full on laughter the more he kisses all over your skin— it's ticklish. When he stops and it's silent you feel the energy shift. You ask the pending question with a whisper, "And what was that for?"

Silence overtakes him as he stares down at you, a faint smile on his face.

"For all the decades I'll spend loving you."

notes: reblogging [the little sign by the heart button] helps push this fic! it's the main thing that helps me out and its what tumblr's algorithm picks up on!! thoughts are appreciated, always ^^ ❤

#txt fanfic #beomgyu fic #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu drabbles #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu x reader #txt fic #txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt fluff #txt drabbles #txt x reader #txt series

3K notes · View notes

satocidal · 7 months

Text

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ “Opposites Attract?!”— Gojo Satoru

Synopsis: the famous rich boy of the campus and the Dean’s daughter? Scandalous—especially when they’re both jealous as hell.

— A/n: Roughly based on something from my real life lmao— except that we didn’t get together because hehe. Also, this is the first part of a kinkmas fic that I have planned, it’s been broken since the fic was getting too long <3 (both can be read stand-alone!) Tagging @romiyaro @draecys @maeby-cursed because yes; nsfw version <3

— Word count: 5.7k

— warnings: Fem! Reader x Satoru Gojo; slightly suggestive Suguru and Mei Mei (they deserve to be warnings here); undertones if jealousy; a kiss (or three) at the end, I know—scandalous right; Reader wears spects in one scene; this has a LOT of bickering. Just banter for that matter, reader says smn about sex work BUT I assure you it’s not supposed to be in a negative light <333

4.5 g.p.a—a perfect reputation that you held, a decent social life—an amazing father to back you up, you weren’t ever part of the fraction of people who got in through with scholarships, why would you when your father stood as the dean? —but you’d worked for it.

3.7 g.p.a—it could’ve been far better, easily, if he only put himself in—far too loud a social life with a following of 4k+ on his Instagram while he only followed back his best friend and pretty little things (for a day or so)—part of the fraction who got paid in, who never struggled for it.

Sure, you hadn’t really struggled either—but hypocrisy was only allowed to one and you chose to take your chance.

You didn’t…despise him, the man that Gojo Satoru stood out to be, but lords, you hated the concept around it.

The loud cackle at the back of each lecture—the proxies and his fan girls, you hated it all.

More so, you hated just how enamored your dad was—after all, it was Gojo Satoru that had won the trophies and the plaques—Satoru Gojo that was a Power Player.

But the credit wasn’t to be forgotten for you too—dabbling in all that was academic, if the second half of your dad’s office as the dean were filled with Satoru’s achievements, the first half was yours.

Two sides of the same coin.

Your eyes never left your dad for a second, “you can’t possibly expect that out of Me dad,” the whine wasn’t subtle, nor the snicker that gojo let out at your words and outlet—earning a hard glare.

And to all the pampering and spoiling your father had to offer, it all failed when it came down to the pride and prestige of the university.

“It’s non-negotiable y/n,” the sleek brown in his room shone that afternoon, polished—every groove, every rounded corner—almost a story to behold.

“Yeah! Tell her Mr.Dean,” another snicker- another glare, your father sighed in his dismay.

“You,” your father glared at him, “need to find a way to shove it in your schedule as well—you’re both the elected representatives.”

To end with all whines and groans.

“I have no idea how but I need you two to find a presence of mind and perform your best in curating an experience at the fest. Dismissed.”

A sharp inhale, yours and the roll of Satoru’s eyes, your dad was aware how interesting an evening and a fest in general he would be witnessing.

You’d known Gojo Satoru for 3 years now, spending the last together at the University, standing as the President of Student Council—all against Gojo’s constant “nepotism” comments while he stood as the Captain of the Football Team—against your criticism as well.

A certain peak in the way you two governed your particular fields independently but, together?

Well.

Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t always that you both disliked each other but, you couldn’t exactly deny the certain distaste the day you’d set eyes on him…

~First Year~

“Dad, please, make sure that no one knows that you and I are, at all related,” a chuckle your father let out, “of course darling, but don’t get prissy when I don’t let you out with attendance matters and all,”

Another chuckle shared, nothing too serious.

“I’ve heard Gojo Satoru will be joining this year too?”

An innocent question, curious is all you were—anyone would be, one of the best the country had seen in years.

Your father nodded slowly, “just so happens to be true, stay in check though, don’t want messing with people like that,”

It was evident, the wary tone that your father had acquired over the years, dealing with all that was the ego of such students, who stood tall with the heap of money that belonged to their daddies.

A slow nod you passed too—your father smiled, you were a smart girl after all.

But fate was decided and what had to happen would happen for sure.

Because you swore to maintain the secret, you weren’t to be even found to have the slightest relation of blood with the Dean — but then whatever could you do when you step out blindly, bumping right into the guy you wanted not to.

A hiss and a curse—“the fuck? Watch where you’re going,” he mumbled-eyes boring into yours, and then simultaneously, at the car.

Anger that flashed down right—“watch your damn language,” unironically, you muttered—something he’d never let you live down.

“Woah there princess, what are you on? Some patrol duty round here-?” The smirk was infuriating, his disheveled hair all the more—especially when he continued messing it up all the more.

A scoff, yours—“Mind your own business,” a shove passed and an attempt to move away—“Y/n L/n?” He held your campus manual.

The certain way your name rolled off his tongue, it caught your attention—“ya dropped this,”

A smirk adored his face as he handed back to you the campus manual, of course it wasn’t anything you required but to solace your father, there you held it.

A cramped “Whatever,” you let out, snatching the booklet from his hands quick—wanting nothing more to do with the stranger that you’d bumped into.

Just as you walked away though, “L/n huh?” The words, his, that you knew would cause you issues.

“He’s Satoru Gojo?” Your surprise lay hidden under the music that boomed all too loud—watching closely the white haired boy you’d bumped into a couple days ago.

“Yeah? You didn’t know?” The grin on your now best friend, and then just-roommates-friend offered little help.

Of course you hadn’t, and now you wish you didn’t still.

It was true you’d spotted him all so much over the past few days, and the people that followed him and the rumors still—unaware to why and how.

But now, with all the pieces in your hand you wanted to hide away—especially when those blue eyes stared right back—with a grin he trampled over.

“Oi! L/n right? We met at the first day?”

You cringed at how loud he spoke—so very sure that absolutely everyone could hear him, all over the booming music.

A subtle nod you passed, trying to get away from the spotlight he’d casually thrown round you.

“Your dad’s the Dean right?”

Silence- literally, just as he said that, the music system paused too—you wanted to curse your luck.

Widened eyes—star-struck stares from all those adored Gojo, amused ones at you from everyone who bothered to think.

You’d have considered lying—unless Satoru Gojo hadn’t chosen to be a dick about it, “You guys have the same last names so I thought- and then, the other when we bumped into each other- remember?” He chuckled as a couple of girls let out audible gasps, envious that you had already touched him so.

Before opportunity even lay still, he continued, “so I thought, because frankly either you’re his daughter or…you know, mistress—but that I doubt,” you wanted to punch away the grin he held, the snicker and the secrets he dropped out like flies.

So while you stood there, waiting for the ostracism—Gojo only giggled, “Don’t worry though, you’re fine, got more of your mom’s genes right?”

Fuming, you stood there—red that masked your vision—“excuse you?” A brow remained cocked, Gojo’s facial expression never once changed—it was about to.

“You’re one to talk about dads huh? Your daddy donated in just about how much into your esteemed football team huh? To get you selected?”

Satoru wasn’t new to comments such, in fact that’s what he’d built his career over but just the way you said it—just the way your angry face stared back at him—he found you annoying, adorably so.

That night, Satoru’s fan following increased by a decent thousand or so, people became aware of you and maybe, you realized, being the Dean’s daughter wouldn’t be that bad a fact.

But all the more, Gojo and you formed a sudden bond still, dislike and nothing less masking the two of you whenever the other was mentioned.

A farce? Maybe—but you were easily, in too deep to stop now.

Often nights you spent, thinking how the two of you could be friends—but huge egos that clashed in, something told you it wouldn’t happen all so easily.

The following week and there on were interesting—you joked all week that you’d blocked Gojo, you never did.

Gojo swore he’d have you black-listed for being so audacious—he never did.

When the huge messaging group—meant to be dead in a day—was formed, you both ended up saving each other’s number discreetly, never to approach it again, at least for a while.

And that was just how it went on “he annoys me so much,” and “she annoys me so much,” but little by little, small steps in the dark—you both were each other’s biggest cheerleaders still- applauding each other louder than anybody else.

Hands clutching onto your notepad you continued jotting down the points—fingers working fast so as not to let a single bright thought escape you.

The event was huge—the University’s 150th Anniversary—perfect, grand, extravagant—to be organized partially, by you.

There was time, plenty—absolutely 1 months before the panic would settle in, 2 before it would be over.

But seconds were quick—hasty in the way they changed into minutes, hours to come and days passed by, never realized.

A finger raised to push your spects up the bridge of your nose—you sighed, eyes landing on the form in front of you—mouth ajar and his sunglasses fixated in his hair, another piece of candy tossed up high before he caught it in his mouth.

A frustrated sigh you let out—“can you please sit straight and help?”

His eyes bore into yours- cerulean, they were pretty, almost prettier than the whole of him, you hated it.

“Isn’t it your job?” A grin he passed, a clench of your jaw was all you could—“we’re in this together, don’t give me that bullshit,”

Another grin, “talk to me when you need booze,”

“You don’t even drink,” the words fell out your mouth all so quick, hesitant you looked at him—“how do you know?” It was an amused smirk that he held, it annoyed you how the man in front seemingly only talked in three supposed emotions.

A small break, “well, I uh- noticed through the parties,” it was true, you did notice through the parties—it was hard not to, since you didn’t drink—you couldn’t be all so sure about the rest.

“You notice me at parties? You notice me at all?” Urges inside you that had to be controlled, such a perfectly punchable face Satoru Gojo held—“help me work on this damn idea,” you mumbled, ignoring all of what he wanted to discuss.

A roll of his eye and yours—“not gonna do it so easily,”

A huff you let out.

Frustration at peak.

“Actually,” your voice was quieter than you expected it to be, “wouldn’t it be better if you were there to advise us? Me? You’ve been organizing parties for so long and,” your face turned towards him—smile never faltering at his disgusted expression—he knew what you were doing, he wasn’t new to sugar coating after all, “I would love learning from the best.”

Jaw clenched, hands sauntered over to the back of your chair—most would consider it an action of endearment, you knew better.

“I would beg to differ Ms. Daddy’s princess,” Your blood boiled at his ignorance—sure, he was Satoru Gojo—but nothing gave him the right to act superior when he stood at his father’s money itself.

Hell, all he was meant to be was just a batchmate, captain of a stupid team that barely mattered—you?

Sure, a well suited empire would never land on your back, nor a fortune as his until you’d worked half your life into it— but you were better, you knew it. Denial onto his privilege to negate the Authorities could’ve never been acceptable by you.

your eyes remained stuck onto the ground —defiant—“well, i suppose it would only be for the best,” stubborn you sat and so did he—stuck in between the thickening tension.

“The best,” his voice exasperated, “would be for someone like you to sit back down and do as you’re told.”

Mouth hanging just in the slightest, you dared not to meet his face—focusing on the little stains and creases you’d administered on your sneakers—eyes sneaking onto his pair, perfect, as expected.

“That’s a little rich, coming from you—”

“—and this is the best they’ve found? You? To help me huh?”

Bigoted. Nose flared, curses at the tip of your tongue and you could do nothing as he further scoffed, “getting a privileged bitch to do my job, now they know my worth huh?”

“Excuse you?” Shaky, you sat—words spilling out before you could stop it—“your worth? Absolutely as nothing, but a spoiled man-baby who cannot deal with things maturely?”

Confusion marked his face—of course he would be, all so blind to the simple generosity that gets offered to him—all so he can kick a ball.

“The event is in 2 months sir,” address regained to the topic, you spoke flatly, “I would well appreciate that you helped us in the organization of said fest—if not, well, it would be a sheer pity that the entire football team would have to suffer,”

And there lay your ultimatum, naked and threatening—and he knew it was all but empty.

“L/n,” Gojo coughed—not quite sure, uneasy evidently, with the tension that hung lose in the atmosphere—“You maybe influential in your own ways on the campus but-”

“-but I’m just a student here, as you are,” you looked directly at Gojo now, “And to adhere to rules is the basic of most authoritative environments. So I suppose, you’ll be all the more pliant in helping us plan the fest and encouraging our juniors to help us out.”

Defiant—squinted eyes of Gojo simply stared blankly—“Alright,” he muttered.

“If help is what you want, that’s what you’ll get.”

And the deal was settled—to your compromise and his.

A week had passed since—the discomfort only grew.

“What the fuck? You’re speeding rumours now?” Rough were the words that greeted you first the moment the two of you entered the study you currently sat in—a half shrug you passed him, “I would need help and rather than begging you for it, why not just keep you as my assistant?”

“Excuse you?” His tone, bewildered as he shut the door behind the two of you—“Your assistant?” He barked out a laugh—“They really are making sheer idiots now huh?”

“Says daddy’s little prince who couldn’t use his academics to get in like everyone else,”

A scoff he passed—“How very original, at least my daddy has the power and how is yours, at all better?” he let his words trail off, a smirk on his lips as he pulled a chair to lounge in, and well, all cases be true, his dad probably had more money than you could imagine.

The certain charm of Gojos, after all.

“Don’t gotta flex your daddy’s sex work like that buddy,” you muttered, pulling a chair across him—peculiar you found it that he didn’t do so much as throw a fit in objection to the forced responsibility.

“Just giving inspiration baby,” he drew out—he winked, phone pulled out fast as he typed, you sat by forgotten.

A roll of your eyes—“Help me at least,”

Silence- you sighed.

“You’re supposed to help,” again, the very same cold air met you—“Gojo,”

“Nope.”

A sharp intake of breath and you stared at him, had it not been for the pretty face he had you’d have punched him long ago—a second too long you stared however, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,”

Another eye roll—“Just fucking help me,”

“Ain’t gotta princess,” he finally looked up, “I’m here to advise you right?”

An inhale, exhale—biting down on your teeth you nodded, “Of course,” you muttered—which was what had led you to the current situation, tired, exasperated and annoyed.

An hour and a half, slow—very, spent staring a few times at the blank paper and then the ceiling, often Satoru Gojo and then his phone; a couple ideas popped by here and there, all useless—you knew that.

“You know,” you spoke carefully, “As someone who’s helping you bunk without losing attendance, you should really really be thankful,”

“A bouquet will be present in your dorm tonight doll,” not a single glance spared still—it was frustrating simply to sit such.

A sharp exhale you let out, head hung back—this was a stupid idea.

“You know what?” Chair pushed back, you stood up—“I’ll manage,” fingers clutched hard onto your notepad—it hurt when he didn’t do so much as even shrug as you moved towards the door.

Silence, as you turned the handle of the door to leave—not even a look from him.

You despised him.

#6942619412: Yo [11:54 p.m.]

Your eyes narrowed at the sudden text that popped up—ignorance enveloped you still, eyes focused onto the book of applied physics in front of you—regret boring into you as you tried your best to drill the concepts into you, preparing yourself for the soon-to-end semester exams.

#6942619412: busy? [11:56 p.m.]

You ignored still, creeped a little at the protrusion—not enough to let your book down—

#6942619412: idc [11:58 p.mp]

#6942619412: show me your plans [11:58 p.m.]

Face scrunched in annoyance, you stared at your screen—the periodic chimes of notification and the switch from the dull background to immediate light up—Satoru Gojo was somehow a master at infuriating you.

However, as stubborn as lay, you were no better—‘ignorance is bliss’ they said, and you were all too prepared to test it out.

#6942619412: bro wtf. Reply. [12:03 a.m.]

You noted mentally, the time gap between his texts—a sly smile adorning your face. Something in you screamed to not do it—to not go against Satoru Gojo such—the certain something fell to deaf ears as a shit-eating grin you beheld, typing your words in.

You: it’s pathetic of you to message like this [12:03 a.m.]

You: desperate? [12:03 a.m.]

A minute went by, then another—you sighed.

It was perhaps, a bad idea— chime!!

#6942619412: it’s needy of you to message back [12:04 a.m.]

#6942619412: you desperate? [12:04 a.m.]

A smirk—yours, a smirk—his.

You: you realize the first text of your day is to me? [12:04 a.m.]

#6942619412: you realize you’re taking note of how my day goes? [12:05 a.m.]

You: because you decided to bother me in mine—get to whatever you were saying [12:05 a.m.]

#6942619412: there there princess—I demand respect and send me your ideas- or better still I’ll come over to your dorm [12:06 a.m.]

Your eyes remained fixed at the screen; ‘come at your dorm’? Was he stupid?

You: there’s no need to come here gojo. I’ll send you everything right now.

You waited, patiently, however, ever so cruel—time was always slow, especially when waiting onto someone. 5 minutes grudged slow- you were afraid that he would actually show up. Would he?

No, of course not— even for him this was absurd, given the security and the time at night—he was probably asleep—

Knock.

A twist of your window pane’s handle- a thud of your heart and widened set of eyes.

Another knock and you were at your feet, stupidly, opening the window—widening it to welcome Satoru Gojo is your room—scandalous.

A smirk he held, form towering yours by a decent couple inches, “Neat room,” he whistled as he stood awkward, unsure onto whether to place himself until he found your study—making himself comfortable on the spot you just sat.

“Applied physics?” Curiosity laced his voice and a shrug you responded with — “So what?” You muttered, reaching in to close the book—he certainly took note of the tiredness your voice held.

“So you’re an idiot—it’s a tough field.”

Another shrug—“Gets me going and nothing could’ve sucked more than chemistry so,”

A snort he lay bare—only then did you realize how quiet it was, soft breaths, the new morning dancing about the timelines—your gaze on his, and his on yours. How so eccentric—not.

“You couldn’t deal with chemistry? Gotta be dumb or some shit,”

You scoffed—knowing where he was leading it, “do we really need me to redo the whole ‘got in because of your dad’ shit here?”

He grinned wide—and just then you noticed the perfect set of teeth—the ones you’d hoped to punch and break some day, “I think I’d wanna skip it tonight baby,”

“Don’t call me that,”

“Prissy, eh?”

A scrunch of your face, a wink his.

“Why, and dare I ask, how, did you get here?” Brows raised, expression amused as he paced about your room—taking it in, familiarizing himself.

“Don’t worry onto that doll, just show me your ideas,”

Your eye twitched, it was simply alien to you—the feeling of being treated normal by him. By Satoru Gojo- reality set in straight Every Time you realized that something in you, even if small, craved his attention, his validation.

Maybe that was why you were hurt—when he’d ignored you initially, when he’d shove you in the hall without a thought spared—when his gaze was all so disrespectful Everytime you approached Him.

Maybe it was just the social construct of it all.

Maybe it was something else.

So surprise was bound to grip you hard— he wanted your ideas?

“Well?” Fidgety, you noted his actions to be—nervous? You wouldn’t be sure.

“Why?”

A shrug, half hearted, “I heard stuff on you,” and now your interest sat piqued, “They say you’re as good as me when it comes down to getting shit done,” a wink—you gagged internally at his words- his charm?

Not quite so.

“You’ve been snooping around since the past week? Got you that hooked?” A smirk you channeled, unsure still- suspicious more so.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he muttered—his eyes were quicker, quicker that yours, cerulean, I suppose something to do with the color of them—all too pretty to have one care about anything besides themselves.

“I’ve heard of your accomplishments beforehand, you know it—you just weren’t so important and most of the time I was trying to stay off your radar,” his face panned towards the shelf you kept full of books—“but you did interest me,”

A scoff let’s your lips, “Anything with a vagina and boobs will interest you,”

“Hey now-” and for a second he seemed offended, not that you cared, “don’t forget about the ass—and please, I sincerely accept dicks too.” And just at that you chuckled slightly—a small win he deemed it, “man-whore,” you muttered past him- closing your books and grabbing onto the notepad from before.

“Here,” you handed it over— a sudden feeling of embarrassment washing over—after all, as much of a jerk he was, Satoru Gojo sincerely was experienced and amazing at what he did.

Lips pursed, you stared as he read through the stuff- “I know it’s all too-” a hand raised to quieten you, he continued reading—quick at that too.

It took him a minute or so, to go through each of the 4 pages you’d jotted down—“Not bad,” you nodded, “not the best,” you bit your tongue.

“I uh- i know it’s a little extravagant?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “or more so, it’s not very realistic? You have steps planned out and …you know, it’s supposed to be done by humans not machines,”

Your eyes raised in understanding, you weren’t too sure, but just enough.

“Put yourself into it—you’re cool you know that?,” eyes squinted, you watched him carefully- not a word let out.

“Just a little…uptight, learn to let go,”

“how do I…?”

He grinned, “have fun figuring that out—the ideas were cool, gotta go now doll,” you blinked once, twice, and without a word he was gone—you let him. However could you even ever stop him?

And you knew well, the rumbling in your room was sure to get your father awake.

A click on the lock—you closed the window behind him—swift was the way he came about, annoying, the way he left. And yet you still stood alone in the room, pacing about with a dorkish smile.

And only five minutes after he’d left, after the daze was gone—you noticed the bouquet of jasmines on your bedside—huh.

Certainly understood the charm now—especially when your eyes focused onto your phone right before closing.

#6942619412: you’re actually cute when you’re not frowning yk? [1:05 a.m.]

You went to sleep.

~Three weeks before the Fest~

“I’d say it’s coming along amazing,” another fruit roll up popped into his mouth—the fifth packet in last three hours, you were only surprised how he wasn’t sick of them yet.

A nod you passed—“but they’re slow-”

“-because they’re people, they are bound to be slow,”

Another nod.

There was something that Satoru Gojo did help you with, and there was something you’d helped him with as well—his eyes panned onto the elaborate list of numbers he’d gathered, oh how you’d spun the man, Satoru ‘never gonna help nobody’ Gojo into your actual assistant.

“Tell me though, when will you order the booze?”

“It’s an official thing- how can you expect booze to be there?” A ridiculed laugh met you—“ever heard of sneaking shit in princess?”

Of course you had, given that Satoru Gojo snuck himself into your room almost every night, uninvited—so far as to snickering when you squeaked out lies to your father about talking to your friends.

“Shut up, there will be no beverage,” he chuckled at your formal tone, beverage, “you and I, or anyone can get expelled for that—it happened last year,”

“You’re your daddy’s only princess though,”

“And you’re not,” a deadpan from you shut him up quick—“dad’s gonna be mad if he finds it, I won’t be expelled but you might, especially given your record and everything—and yes that means your captaincy and everything too,”

A month ago, the nervousness on his face would’ve made you chuckle—giddy maybe but now it only troubled you for him—hours spent on the floor of your bedroom had opened up conversations after all.

“But you’ll save me right?”

He stared at you; you stared back, you noted the closeness.

There was no reply to be offered—but it did ruin the small moment to hear the causal, “Satoru~” from the lips of her, Mei Mei, long time family friend of his and an equatable annoyance to Satoru Gojo.

Both of your faces whipped to meet hers, yours scorned while his broke into a grin—“Oi!” He chuckled—arms spreading out to greet her, hug her.

“Y/n,” she greeted you too, a smile you passed back—part of your council members after all—“how’s the planning going?”

“Fantastic,” tight lipped you muttered—“fabulous,” she grinned, “mind if I steal Toru’ for a second?”

You mentally gagged at her—‘steal Toru for a second’—except those seconds never really were seconds, rather hours and to your utter annoyance, Gojo never add moves to counter it.

“Of course!” And just like that, gone, daily.

A sigh you let out, staring at the preparations—“why’d you let them walk over you all the time?” A deep voice met you, “Suguru?”

A short smile, a short breath of cigarettes met you—in the best way, “Good day to you too,” he grinned, patting the seat beside him, eyes stuck on his best friend and his rendezvous partner.

“You as , and what exactly do you suppose I do? Stop them?”

“He’s your assistant, ain’t he?”

“Yes but-”

“Am I seeing you finally turn into a push-over, like all the other girls when it comes to him?” All in good humor he spoke, but mostly because it was true.

You were bending your walls for a certain someone—it didn’t feel right.

“You think I shouldn’t?”

“I think you should only if this lasts after the rest as well,”

“Will it?”

A pause, a shrug, “I don’t know, ask him.”

You stared at him—“why are you two the legitimate same at advices? And equally bad?” A laugh met you—“go on, ask him—because as of now, Mei Mei seems to have done what she wanted,”

“Huh?”

A look at him and then at them, your heart sank—he was kissing her, your heart sank more, why were you so bothered by it?

A nervous chuckle you passed to Suguru, an empathetic one he did, “it’s fine,”

“Yeah.”

———

It wasn’t fine, hell it was far from fine—especially when you saw them together there on, all the time.

3 weeks, dates here and there—she was around you all the time, and him, it was infuriating in all aspects of the word.

“Who’re you going with?” Almost everyday he questioned, and you never had an answer because somehow, just something in you had made you reject every proposal—something in you supposed that you two would go together.

You were the organizers—but then, it was no rule.

And even if it was, Satoru Gojo wasn’t big on rules.

“Ready?” Suguru grinned, last minute date that you’d found—all so grateful that you stood.

A small nod with a smile you passed—“how do I look?”

“Gorgeous,” another smile, wider—eyes however, they remained stuck onto Gojo.

“It’s not about him tonight doll,”

“It’s never about him,” you mumbled—melancholy—ironic onto how the entire fest that you’d built was based off of youth and what not.

But it was about him, everything was about him- especially in the way your dress, bought just for the occasion was the same cerulean, your hair was braided just how he once mentioned liking, you were wearing the perfume he bought you for you.

Everything.

And you despised all of this everything while having nothing.

“Yo! Y/n,” you paused, Suguru did too—his smirk widening, as did Mei Mei’s, Satoru walked- sauntered over.

“Don’t you look hot?” The grin was wide, your nose scrunched in disgust, “you’re reeking of alcohol,”

He was—of course he was, right after you’d advised him not to.

“Chill, nobody’s gonna know-”

“-we have to meet my dad in 15 minutes.”

“…oh.”

“Well anyways, I see you came with Suguru? You’ve been getting close?”

Your eye twitched—so he did see it—“yeah he’s cool, and helpful, unlike you,”

A giggle, “I have a life outside of you, remember?” Your blood boiled—“of course you do, enjoy it.”

A sharp turn you made, lips bitten, unsure, uncertain—“Honestly though, if I weren’t with Mei tonight I’d actually fuck ya “

Your jaw clenched at the audacity—the other two, Suguru and Mei Mei long disappeared as you flared daggers into Satoru’s soul.

“Can you take one thing seriously? You- you bloody idiot I can’t even-” you whipped around to face him again—eyes boring into his.

Satoru, even in his drunken state knew it would last long, the lecture, a hand pulled you in very quick, a corner, secluded.

“Stop fucking shouting,” slurred his words, they lay bare.

“What do you want me to do then? You- you- I- ugh.” You paused, hard breaths let out—“you’re so fucking annoying.”

“Annoying? You’re the one screaming woman,” the small smirk that he adored annoyed you all the more so.

“Excuse you? I’m annoying?” And at that moment, you let go, “I’m annoying after you spent three weeks fucking with Mei Mei? I’m annoying after you’re the one acting irresponsible? I’m annoying after you ended up treating me like all your others girls? I’m annoying after- after you just chose to walk all over me- I’m annoy- mmph!”

Words lay interrupted quick, a rough hand reeled you in while the other held your head, the kiss was soft, passionate of one would call it, sloppy in the way his lips attached to yours, hungry.

And amusingly, unlike all things Gojo, this did not feel wrong.

But it wouldn’t help your emotions being all over the place—“what the fuck?” You asked, the moment he pulled away—“was it that bad?” An amused chuckle rolled off his lips.

“No? You can’t do this- we can’t just kiss- I-”

“-okay, then take it back,” and just like that, he pulled you in again, lips attaching once more, hands exploring each other easy, slow gasps of breath as you pushed him away this time.

“N-no you- I don’t- what? You take it back,” and almost as if his alcohol was on your mind too, you pulled him in this time—a small peck, harsh, Satoru loved it all the same.

Frustrated you pulled away, grinning his hand held your wrist—“don’t go,” he mumbled, your face contorted into the expression which screamed your annoyance.

“Don’t go? Fuck you Gojo. Fuck you and your damn ego and the audacity you have,” your breaths were shallow, the two stood so close.

“Don’t kiss me when you’re with someone else—you might be a whore but-”

“It was for you,” another mumble, quieter, “to get you jealous and I think it worked?”

A pause.

“And The alcohol?” You whispered—he loved it though, the way you prioritised the reputation above him—somehow you humanised him, “only I’ve drunk it, no one else—to…get your attention,”

“But you never drink…”

“And I never fucked Mei either, or kissed her…or anyone since you,”

“That’s supposed to make me feel special?” It did, but you were done for the day.

“I think so…?”

You blink, once, twice and instead of the third that Satoru expected a sharp slap landed on his face.

“You’re very fucking dumb,” while one hand clutched the cheek he’d been hit at, the other still held your hand, pulling you closer when he heard your choked words—eyes widening at the wetness in your eyes.

“L/n…” a sigh, “fuck I’m- fuck.” He held you close, unnatural to your relation, you let yourself be held.

————

“Sorry?”

You glared at him, the Music blared behind you loud— the both of you stood outside your father’s office, “we’ll deal with that later.”

A slight nod, Satoru was glad you even agreed to talk to him, Satoru was glad you even looked at him—Satoru was simply glad you were standing beside him.

A knock, two more, you walked inside—Satoru, as advised by you stood outside—your father would know of course, instantly.

The room seemed a breath of freshness as you walked, away from the stench that Satoru held, “where’s Gojo?” You were prepared for the question.

“Do you like the fest?” You father was prepared for the dodge—he hummed, “you both did good together, as I supposed,” you hummed.

“He won’t be coming?”

“He’s busy,” you lied through your teeth, “some kids snuck in alcohol, he’s dealing with it,” you were sure you caught your father’s smirk—“that would be highly…inappropriate,”

You bit the inside of your cheek, “of course, we’ll see to it that they’re punished well,”

Your father hummed again, “having a good time?”

“Wonderful,” your father grinned, “well, you can go then but…maybe not today but I do hope meet your assistant soon after, kind of tired of seeing him sneak in through the windows,”

“Dad?!”

“What? You’re grown up and I’ve seen the potential and I kind of think opposites do attract, and you proved me right so,”

Idiots, all around you.

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