#i’m still totally keeping up the signs though
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Charlie: “So this is what a full hotel looks like…”
Vaggie: “Think it’ll survive until Extermination day?”
Charlie: “I don’t know if I’LL survive to Extermination day.”
Vaggie: “Aww, babe.”
Charlie: “Seriously, who keeps ordering pizza??? We all already KNOW the cannibals will just skip it and try chewing on the poor delivery person!”
Vaggie: “My bet’s on Angel Dust. He’s not exactly thrilled the place got filled up with ‘shit smiling judgmental prudes.’”
Charlie: “Whyyy didn’t I remember the cannibals have a whole dress-code thingy?”
Vaggie: “They are being polite about it though.”
Charlie: “They keep eyeing Angel Dust’s exposed thighs like they’re chicken wings.”
Vaggie: “And if they wanted to eat him up in any other way, he’d be thrilled.”
Charlie: (growling) “Some of them keep looking at YOUR thighs as if they were-”
Vaggie: “Anything other than property of Charlie Morningstar?”
Charlie: “-Vaggie they want to TEAR YOU APART!”
Vaggie: “And they’re not actually trying it, which is polite, even if they’re still talking about how angels might taste whenever I’m in the room.”
Charlie: (pout) “You taste good.”
Vaggie: “Not like that, babe.”
Charlie: “How could the rest of you not taste good too??”
Vaggie: “Ask the cannibals. Meat flavors based on where the meat thing lived and what it ate, something something- What if angel steaks taste like artificial food coloring?”
Charlie: “I like those-!”
Vaggie: "I know." (laughing) “Maybe that’s another reason why you’re the woman of my dreams.”
Charlie: “Am I?”
Vaggie: “The one and only.”
Charlie: “You’d never… think about leaving me for someone else?”
Vaggie: “NO?”
Charlie: “Someone a little more badass maybe?”
Vaggie: “Not possible. You called heaven out for being total bullshit. In a song.”
Charlie: “Maybe someone you had an instant and deep connection with?”
Vaggie: “Like the woman that bandaged my eye socket and took me home with her and nursed me through physical and emotional hell all because she also thought sinners might be people worth caring about?”
Charlie: “Well what about someone who… is just better? At the whole. Everything.”
Vaggie: “Literally who. Who the fuck-”
Charlie: “Carmilla?”
Vaggie: “Car-hhhhHHH." (chokes)
Vaggie: "AHAHAHAHAH! Charlie! WHAT!?”
Charlie: “She’s cool. She’s one of those, those muffin things right? Angel Dust said-”
Vaggie: “A milf, sweetie. It’s milf and PLEASE also listen to Husk’s reality checks whenever Angel Dust opens his well meaning but dumb as shit whore mouth.”
Angel Dust: (distantly) “My HOT and SEXY whore mouth heard that, toots!”
Vaggie: (yelling back) “Then go stick a dick in it!”
Angel Dust: “I’m tryin’~”
Charlie: (used to this) (ignoring them) “So the whole private training battle song thing was, not a turn on for you? At all?”
Vaggie: “If I ever call Carmilla Carmine ‘mommy’ it’ll be because she just signed my adoption papers.”
Charlie: “Oh! Okay! Juuuust wanted to check.”
Charlie: “…..”
Charlie: “Are you gonna ask about me and the head-to-heart I had with-”
Vaggie: “No.”
Charlie: “-because I was literally thinking about you the whole time-“
Vaggie: (smile) “That just took a perfectly non-worrying thing and made it sound bad.”
Charlie: “Is there a thing like a- an elf??”
Vaggie: “Aunt you’d like to fuck?”
Charlie: “Well not ME personally. But Rosie is very impressive.”
Vaggie: “You looked more impressed up in heaven.”
Charlie: “Huh? Heaven??”
Vaggie: “Nothing- never mind. I do actually have a lady-related question for you though.”
Charlie: “What does heaven have to do with- what?”
Vaggie: “I think I’m in love.”
Charlie: “WHAT!?”
Vaggie: “She’s ripped out my heart and I want to thank her for it.”
Charlie: “Th-thh that’s wait how when-?”
Vaggie: “Charlie.”
Charlie: “-y, yes?”
Vaggie: “Can we keep inviting Susan over, even after Extermination day?”
Charlie: “…”
Charlie: “Susan.”
Vaggie: “Charlie please? Please? She's the granny I don't deserve and desperately need in my life. Please please please please-”
Charlie: “But, Vaggie- She HATES everyone!”
Vaggie: “I know!”
Charlie: “And she SAYS it!?”
Vaggie: “And it’s so fucking cool.”
Charlie: “She said you dress like a hooker!”
Vaggie: “Angel Dust was furious. I think he would’ve thrown a punch at her, in defense of hookers everywhere, if Husk hasn’t grabbed him.”
Charlie: “A LAZY hooker!”
Vaggie: “That one hit home and I’ll cherish it’s sting forever.”
Charlie: “She’s not NICE. She doesn’t even PRETEND to be nice like the other cannibals do!”
Vaggie: “Isn’t that great?” (grinning) “She’s like, the anti-Alastor….”
Charlie: (sigh)
Charlie: “I guess… being brutally, painfully, rudely honestly about your feelings is… not the worst thing someone can be.”
Vaggie: “YES! Can we adopt the creepy old mean lady?”
Charlie: “She can visit. We are NOT inviting her to LIVE here.”
Vaggie: (smiling)
Charlie: “….”
Charlie: (drooping) “…not unless she wants to.”
Vaggie: “Thanks, sweetie.” (kiss) “She never would. She hates us all and especially the hotel. Ask her and she’ll tell you, in detail, how all our decorating ideas are terrible and she’s only here to grab the free snacks, shove some angel leftovers in her basket, and then fuck off to her own perfect home back in Cannibal Town.”
Charlie: “So why scare me like that by asking? SUSAN in the attic! Ughghgh…”
Vaggie: “’cause it’s nice hearing you’d be open to it anyway.”
Charlie: “Mmrmph.”
Vaggie: “I like remembering that you’re like this.”
Charlie: “Whipped marshmallow.”
Vaggie: "That Angel Dust again?"
Charlie: "Maybe."
Vaggie: "I've got a better word for you."
Charlie: "Like 'girlfriend?"
Vaggie: “Like amazing.”
Charlie: (snorts) (smiles) "Heh. Alright, flattery accepted."
Vaggie: "My wonderfully, adorably dramatic, heart stopping and breathtakingly passionate girlfriend, the most incredible person I've ever met, who-"
Charlie: (laughing) “Now who’s being a sweetie?”
Vaggie: “Charlie, I’m seri- whoah!”
Niffty: (lifting up floor board vaggie was standing on and peeking up at them) “Hey guys!”
Charlie: “Niffty!” (hug lifting vaggie to safety) “W- hi! Um! What is it?”
Niffty: “A bad day not to wear underwear!”
Vaggie: “And a good day to Die.”
Niffty: "I WISH!" (GIGGLES) “News from the hotel gossip line! S.O.S from Husk- he says Angel Dust and some cannibals are fighting over who gets to put the new pizza delivery in their mouths while Cherri’s taking bets and also shots.”
Charlie: "Shots of alcohol?"
Niffty: "Laser gun!"
Charlie: "Nooooo I thought we'd cleaned up everything after Pen's last inventing spree!"
Niffty: "Missed one. She keeps missing too. She fried the pizza."
Vaggie: "Instead of?"
Niffty: (GRINS) "The pizza delivery person!"
Vaggie: “Ugh. We look away for Ten. Minutes.”
Charlie: “Well that’s not- that’s not TOO bad! At least Sir Pentious isn’t-”
Niffty: “His corpse is in the lobby.”
Charlie: “-right. Okay.”
Vaggie: “Why is he a corpse in the hotel lobby this time?”
Niffty: “The cannibals accidentally ate his tongue while he was trying to show Cherri how long it was and then he choked while proving he has no gag reflect and can unhinge his jaws.”
Charlie: “Oh.”
Niffty: “The cannibals want to snack on him again but Susan keeps yelling at them about ‘crumbling standards’ and ‘back in HER day-‘”
Vaggie: “I love her.”
Charlie: “I’m right here.”
Vaggie: “You kinda love her too right now.”
Charlie: (pulls face) “She can come to dinner every other week. If we live. For now though, let’s just, um.”
Vaggie: “Go save the snake man?”
Niffty: “That man is DEAD!”
Charlie: “Resuscitate. We should go resuscitate the snake m- Sir Pentious.”
Niffty: (giggles) “And I’m gonna go order another pizza boy~” (scurries back under floor board)
Vaggie: “Wait, Niffty-”
Charlie: “Niffty! Are YOU the one who’s been-? Vaggie NO-”
Vaggie: (spear out) (in pursuit) “GET OUT OF THE CRAWL SPACES RIGHT NOW AND COME BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE-”
#hazbin hotel#charlie morningstar#vaggie#chaggie#niffty hazbin hotel#incorrect quotes#vaggie dealing with the fallout of charlie talking relationship stuff with angel dust#susan as vaggie's ideal snarky grandma#pentious... tried#niffty is infesting the hotel#(with chaos)#(and hopefully at least a little bloodshed)#vaggie is not worried about charlie being alone with rosie she's worried about#uhhh#nothing#totally nothing at all#the cannibals are being good hotel guests#by the standards of hell anyway#i like the idea of niffry scurrying around under the hotels floors... in it's walls...#hunting her prey in the darkness and#giving everyone jumpscares
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Why do I keep disappearing into fantasies and stories about fictional characters? When will I become happy and stop reading them to feel at least a drop of warm emotions?
Perhaps the life you’re in now isn’t fulfilling and stimulating enough? Maybe it’s better in your head.
When I was my most depressed I always stayed in my head. If I wasn’t asleep I was far away in my mind doing anything other than addressing the reality I was physically in.
There are signs here on the river banks warning people to stay away when it rains. Because even though you feel safe on the grass, it’ll become slippery and you can slide into the raging waters of the river and drown.
Fantasy can be like that for us who are lacking things in life. We’re on the grass, a safe distance from the depressive and consuming currents. But we’re just a shifting weight from falling down the hill.
From my personal experience, I had to fake those warm emotions in myself before I could even try to find it elsewhere or even actually make it myself. Before I could escape the allure of fantasy.
If I’m going to spend all day in my room then I made it feel like somewhere worth being in. If I’m going to be alone I want to enjoy my company, so I took time to try and dress like someone I’d be happy to pretend to be. Whether it meant trying harder to accessorize or just meant washing my hair that day and brushing my teeth. I made up things to be happy with, I romanticized the otherwise unappreciated things. I’d take myself to the beach or on long walks in safe places. Id get a hot chocolate and hold it with both hands and feel that warmth until it faded. Id microwave it so many times to get it back to temperature, even in the Florida summers.
I needed distractions so I’d ride a cheap thrift bicycle I got for 10$ for hours. I painted. I did these things and still daydreamed and fantasized about other places I could exist in, but slowly found myself proud of the strength in my legs and the skills I was making while I was still in my head.
But that’s what it’s about, right? Distractions and making up what you don’t already have but really want. Excitement, love, sex, power, allure.
Maybe you need a distraction of a different form? Maybe it would help to distract your body while your mind is away and maybe you’ll like this reality more and find your brain making better chemicals. Maybe it’ll lead to meeting people with similar distractions who fulfill you more than your fictional darlings. Maybe you’ll just enjoy being here more, in this world.
Sometimes that doesn’t help. Sometimes we need different help. I have OCD and take medicine to manage it, because my brain needs the extra help.
Maybe your life needs more outlets for that creativity in your head.
I could be totally off base and entirely misunderstanding what you mean, so forgive me if I just went off in a useless tangent. Maybe I don’t understand all, in which case, I am sorry.
I hope you have the resources, will, and energy to find ways to get what’s missing and get those warm emotions in this reality.
I hope you’re on the river bank still, and not already sliding down the wet grass.
(Sending long distance hugs, warm and sweaty)
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Secret // Alexia Putellas
| Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |
Everybody knew that Alexia was a private person - she only shared the information she wanted to share as she was very selective in her choice of words and very careful about whom she told what.
And even though that facade dropped around her friends and family, she still kept you a secret - she preferred it that way - having you to herself and not having to deal with headlines like 'Alexia Putellas dating her Barcelona teammate.' and the drama that it could cause.
Whenever it was just the two of you she was the sweetest girl, treating you like a princess and being totally in love with you while when other people were around, she kept her distance, acted strictly professional and didn‘t show any signs of affection.
The only person who knew about you was her sister, Alba and she only found out by accident.
-
"mi amor, you‘re so beautiful" the midfielder admired, kissing along your jaw, "I can‘t get enough of you" she found her way down to your neck, completely lost in the feeling of you before a certain spot on your neck caught her attention where she gently created reddish marks.
Just because nobody knew about you, didn’t mean that it would stop Alexia from silently claiming you.
Her fingertips ran along your exposed skin as your shirt had riddled up, leaving the midfielder craving for more.
The Barcelona player continued to mumble sweet nothings, planting some last even sweeter kisses on your neck before she reached up to your lips, kissing them with every ounce of love. Alexia always kissed you like that, letting you know that you caused the butterflies in her stomach.
Tugging on your shirt, she signaled that she wanted it off. Happily obeying, you took it off, her hands now wandering around your bare upper body as she was back kissing you with so much passion and love.
"Ale- do you know what-" both of you froze at the same time, your girlfriend shielding your exposed body as her sister stood in the door frame, "oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!" she covered eyes, rushing out of the room and slamming the door shut.
"mierda!" Ale was off of you in an instant, throwing your shirt back to you.
"I‘m Alba!" the younger Putellas called threw the door, "we haven‘t meet yet. I‘m her sister!"
You chuckled - wrong move as Alexia glared at you, marching out of her bedroom.
"Do you ever knock?!" she said angrily, pulling her sister away, giving you the time you needed.
"I thought you were asleep! You didn‘t open the front door when I knocked" the sister defended herself in their mother tongue.
Alexia huffed, pinching the bridge of her nose, "so, who‘s she?" Alba asked.
Perfectly timed, you exited the bedroom, walking towards the sisters in the living room, "I’m Y/N" you smiled nicely, offering your hand.
"Alba" she introduced herself once again, returning your smile and shaking your hand.
"She‘s my girlfriend" the midfielder huffed, annoyed that her little sister caught you, "20€ if you don‘t tell anyone about it" the older one said.
She would pay money to keep you a secret? Don‘t get me wrong, you didn‘t want to be public as you loved the privacy both of you had as individuals and together but you did hope for that she would at least tell your friends and family. All you wanted was to hold her hand and not to worry about standing too close to her.
The sparkle in your eyes died down, feeling stings in your heart but nonetheless respecting Alexia‘s wishes.
"I don‘t need your money" Alba stated when she saw the way your face fell, "you could have just said please."
You felt more than rejected in that moment.
"You won‘t tell anybody about this" she ordered this time now, her jaw clenched and voice firm - captains order.
Alba walked towards the door, "I‘m going to the car, mamá is waiting. Hurry up" before she left, only Alexia and you left in her apartment.
"I‘m sorry amor, I forgot that we were having lunch together." the midfielder explained, not knowing nor realizing that her behavior had hurt you as she was just apologizing for the incident of Alba walking in.
"You can stay if you‘d like" she smiled, putting on her shoes.
After she had laced her last shoe, she pulled you in by your hips, kissing you good bye, getting a bit carried as the feeling of your lips locked was addicting.
-
You loved being Alexia‘s girlfriend but you didn‘t like being her secret.
To be honest, it didn‘t bother you at first but after 6 months, you started to think about at least telling your family (officially you hadn‘t even met Alba before) and friends but every time you proposed the idea of it, she got defensive and annoyed, so you didn‘t bring it up again.
After one year, you slowly started to think that maybe she was ashamed of being seen with you, just being with you or of you as her behavior got more and more secretive day by day - she didn‘t even act like your friend in training.
You didn‘t know where it was coming from because whenever you were behind closed doors, she was the most affectionate person who loved to cook for you or just sharing the same air made her heart and brain go love sick. She was indeed very much in love with you yet afraid to show this love outside of either of your apartments.
Sometimes you wished that she would take you out for dinner - it didn‘t have to be fancy at all, McDonalds would be simply enough - you just wanted to experience a date night.
And even though, she made home as romantic as possible, it wasn’t enough anymore. You craved for more.
Sometimes when you saw Ingrid and Mapi openly in love, you felt jealous. You wanted that too.
They were your friends and you were so happy for them as they matched each other perfectly but you couldn’t help but feel envy. You envied what they have, imagining how it would feel like with Alexia - hoping to have that with Alexia, one day.
-
"Do you want to go out tonight? Frido told me about this new restaurant!" you said smiling.
The midfielder looked up from her notebook, pausing the tv as she replayed Chelsea’s matches (the club Barcelona would face in the uwcl semi finals)
"Is it takeout?" she asked.
You shook your head - no. "We can go out" you tried again, flopping next to her on the couch.
"Amor!" she grumbled as all her notes fell to the ground, now not sorted anymore.
"Sorry"
"I‘m preparing for our upcoming matches, you should join me in fact, so you know how Chelsea will play. We can order takeout - you know I don‘t like going out with you" she sorted through her notes, grumbling and huffing at the non existing order. She hadn‘t realized that her words were harsh and in fact rude.
You got the message - she didn’t like going out(side) with you, she had made that very clear.
"I can get you some food from there tomorrow" she added, her voice gentle and the wrinkle between her brows gone as her notes were back in the correct order.
It didn‘t help though, you felt hurt. Was it that bad to be seen with you? You‘re a Barcelona player, her teammate - and friends get food together all the time, so why can‘t you get food together as friends? Nobody would suspect that the two of you were more than friends, right?
"Are you hungry? Do you want me to cook something for you, mi amor?"
Again, you shook your head, scrolling through your phone while you acted tough and unbothered by her comment as she didn‘t even notice how harsh her words had sounded before.
You sent a message in the group chat with Ingrid and Frido, asking if they wanted to try out the restaurant which the Swedish woman had discovered. Both of them agreed within seconds.
-
The two of you laid in bed, Alexia‘s arms wrapped around you as she whispered sweet nothings in your ear. It became a routine for Alexia to lull you to sleep while tracing patterns along your skin. She loved doing so and she loved watching you sleep - you looked at peace.
Something about tonight was different though. Normally, it wouldn’t take long for the captain to soothe you to sleep but after 30 minutes, you still were awake, mind seemingly not finding any rest.
"¿Qué pasa?" she whispered in the dark, gently pressing a kiss to the exposed skin on your shoulder.
"It‘s been over a year, Ale, when will you introduce me as your girlfriend? Or take me out on a date that isn’t in here?" your voice was almost inaudible. You knew it was a sensitive topic for Alexia, the girl always denying your requests on telling someone and shutting you out after the conversation and also avoiding you for the rest of the day. "Amor.. we‘ve talked about this" she said, pulling her hands off your body.
Coldness hit your body while the parts were her hands had rested burnt down.
You turned around, looking at her, the moonlight the only light source "all I’m asking is for some recognition." you admitted, almost pleading for her attention outside of either of your homes.
"But I see you. I see you in training and after training, why is it so important to you that people now? We won‘t have any privacy!" her voice raising slightly.
"Alexia… this has nothing to do with the media. I want to meet your family! Or go on a date and wear very nice clothes. Is that too much to ask for?"
"You‘re right. Lo siento, amor" her hands cupped your cheeks, resting her forehead against yours, "I‘ll try to be better"
-
Over the next few months, Alexia’s home started to become your least favourite place - you felt like you were trapped in a cage.
Nothing had changed.
She loved you behind closed doors while she couldn’t even look at you in training.
Each day that passed, more of your heart broke. Your motivation faded - football was your work and no longer a passion.
And Alexia could tell. Your passes were sloppy and your tackles were harsh.
As soon as you had arrived in her apartment, she began complaining about your attitude.
You were not having it.
You started yelling at each other, rude comments leaving both of your mouths,
"You promised me!" you shouted, all hidden anger and hurt discovering the surface, "you promised me and nothing has changed! I‘m your dirty little secret!" you spat.
"Alba knows about you, isn’t that enough?!"
"You offered her fucking money to keep her mouth shut!"
"What do you want?!"
"I can‘t do this anymore, Alexia. I don’t want to think about whether my girlfriend is ashamed of me or not."
"What are you talking about- amor?"
"I‘m worth more than that."
"Please- give me a chance"
"I did, Ale, more than once" you walked towards the front door, bending down to put on your shoes.
The captain followed, so overwhelmed by what was happening that her persona took some turns, "If you walk out that door, we‘re done!"
your hand was resting on the doorknob, ready to leave.
You looked at her, "Behind that door, we never existed anyway."
And with that being said, you left.
#alexia putellas#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas imagine#woso fanfics#woso x reader#woso#woso imagine#woso image x reader#barca femeni#barca femini x reader#barcelona femeni x reader#fc barcelona femeni#barça femeni#barca women#barcelona femeni#barcelona women#fc barcelona women#espwnt x reader#espwnt
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Battinson on SNL
Idk how popular Saturday Night Live is outside of the US so there will be some links for context. That said, as a New Jersey native, I think Battinson would totally watch the show. And since he's a celebrity...👀
SO
To promote WE’s newest charity fund, Alfred signs Bruce up to be a guest host on SNL (à la this post) The announcement is made, and everyone’s like “oh this is going to be a disaster. That man can’t even hold eye contact or speak a full sentence without crying.”
But oh, that’s why it’s so funny.
Now, hear me out. Bruce’s strengths are displayed best when he’s himself. That’s why he’s so popular in Gotham. That’s why the internet calls him Relatable TM and a Disaster (Affectionate) and “Poor Little Meow Meow.” It’s his ✨ essence ✨
But he tends to get overwhelmed or self-conscious onstage, right? Because he can’t be Himself himself if he has time to overthink something. So after a few meetings with Bruce, the writers of SNL figure out the perfect way to keep Bruce from getting anxious.
They decide to load this episode with as many skits where Bruce plays different caricature-like versions of himself as possible. The objective? Make him break character and laugh so he doesn’t overthink. And if he breaks character, he’ll still technically be in character because he’s playing himself, you know? Genius.
So that’s how they go about structuring the show. During the few days they have to write, they decide to take everything about Bruce’s public image and either ramp it up to 11 or turn it on its head.
He speaks quietly? Turn it into a running gag. He dresses in all black? Make him emo. He tips well? Add that in too. He’s “depressed” and “sad?” Literally, all he does on screen is laugh and break character. What’s not to love?
Of course, Bruce also gets to decide what skits are in each episode as well. (Refer to this if you have no idea how SNL works.) He loves the idea, though, and he has a surprisingly dark sense of humor which bleeds into some of the sketches. They add in a few skits without him, and they’ve got their lineup.
It’s the wildest episode of the season. Here are the highlights:
OPENING MONOLOGUE
It’s the big night, everyone’s excited to see Bruce Wayne hosting a live sketch comedy show with no idea how it will turn out.
To begin his monologue, Bruce walks on, opens his mouth to start talking, and immediately two cast members appear as stagehands to set up six microphones in front of him. He is already struggling to keep himself together.
Bruce: “You may be wondering why I’m host- Cast Member: *adds one more tiny microphone to his chest* Bruce: “You may be wondering why I’m hosting tonight.”
It’s working. The audience loves it.
Halfway through, Kate McKinnon comes out in a dark cloak with a chalice. “Your sustenance, my lord.” *sees camera* “Oh. Sorry. Carry on.” And she shambles off. Bruce has to take a second before continuing.
Bruce knows when (most of) the jokes come. It’s literally on the cue cards, but he still falls into a fit of giggles.
There are a few more gags, including Lex Luthor peeking out from behind the band set-up, all teasing the show to come.
Overall, an amazing way to set the tone for the episode. Expectations have been set. Then the skits begin!
(Oh but before I forget: During every single live skit with Bruce, the writers have scheduled for one of the cast members to run in dressed as a stagehand and put an extra mic on him. They do not tell him when it will happen.)
SKIT #1
Between the monologue and the first skit, he has to do a really fast quick change, but to everyone’s surprise, Bruce is a natural. (Huh, wonder why.)
The skit is called Gotham PTA Meeting. We open in a meeting room full of stereotypical PTA moms setting down baked goods and gossiping. And apparently, there is a new PTA member attending today 👀
Right as the meeting starts, he enters. Bruce walks in wearing the most emo get-up imaginable. He’s got a Nirvana shirt, a comical amount of eyeliner, black skinny jeans, chain accessories, metal rings, AND a clip-in extension to give him fringe.
Someone immediately runs in and puts another mic on him.
PTA Mom: “Oh, Bruce! You made it! Did you bring a snack?” Bruce: “I brought lemon bars.” PTA Mom: “Why are they black?” Bruce: “They match my soul…they’re also vegan.”
He talks like a moody teenager. HE CONSTANTLY has to brush the fringe off to the side to read the cue cards. And because there’s so much eyeliner and he’s sweating a bit from the lights, it starts running everywhere.
PTA Mom: “Bruce, you’re a little quiet. What are your thoughts on increasing the school lunch budget?” Bruce: *eyeliner dripping down his chin* “I think it’s a great idea.”
SKIT #2
For a pre-filmed skit, they bring back the Chad character with Pete Davidson.
It’s 2 am, and Chad is working at a 24hr drug store in Gotham. He’s reading Twilight (the book is upside down) when the lights begin to flicker.
He turns around and tries the light switch, turns back around, and JUMPSCARE it’s Bruce dressed as Edward from Twilight.
Yes, he IS sparkly.
Bruce is awkwardly holding a bunch of items, all concerning. He plops down a few knives, several raw meats, Sudafed. Chad: “Oh hey.” Bruce: O_O “I’d like to check out please.” Chad: “Lit.”
Chad’s “No Fucks Given” energy and Bruce’s “Please Do Not Perceive Me” energy clash like titans. The whole skit centers around it.
Bruce: *sweating bullets* “Oh. You’re reading Twilight?” Chad: “Just the title.” Bruce: *throws the book through the window at lightning speed* “It’s not very good. You should probably read something else.” Chad: *shrugs* “Okay.”
Chad: “ID?” Bruce: “ID? For what?” Chad: “Sudafed.” Bruce: “Oh. I don’t really need that, actually.” Chad: “Already scanned it.” Bruce: “Haha. Of course.” *awkwardly produces a scroll from his pocket that says Bruce Wayne DOB: 1901* Chad: “Okay.”
Bruce checks out, Chad picks up a porno mag or something, and we see Bruce turn into a bat and fly off through the window behind him.
SKIT #3
The next skit they have is Celebrity Family Feud: Billionaires Edition. Again, Bruce plays himself, but he’s more of a background character. Instead, the skit makes fun of billionaires as a whole.
Bruce’s team consists of Kylie Jenner, Lex Luthor, and Oliver Queen. So just imagine three Lucille Bluths standing beside one another.
Bruce’s bit? He just keeps handing cash to Steve Harvey every time he breathes in his direction.
Host: "We got the richest man in the world: Bruce Wayne!" Bruce: *hands him a roll of cash* Host: "Oh, what’s this for?" Bruce: "It’s your tip. I always tip." Host: "Oh, Mr. Wayne, you don’t usually tip the show host. I’m also a millionaire myself." Lex Luthor: *snatches it* "Well, if you’re not going to use it, I will…for charity, of course." Host: "Uh huh, whatever helps you sleep at night."
Just a ton of fun quips, the usual.
At some point, Harvey says, “That’s batty.” Bruce: *ducks* “Where?!” Host: “Oh, I don’t mean Batman. He’s not here.” Bruce: “You don’t know that.”
This time, the mic bit is a bit different.
Host: “We asked 100 billionaires: How much does a loaf of bread cost? Top three answers are on the board.” Bruce: *hits buzzer* Host: Bruce, your answer is? Cast Member: *runs in with a megaphone and holds it in front of Bruce* Bruce: “TEN DOLLARS?”
Board dings! That was the #1 answer
Brucie Wayne for the win
SKIT #4
Next is a skit that dares to ask Gotham, “Why would anyone live here?”
The skit begins with someone opening a press conference for Wayne Enterprises. “And now presenting: Bruce Wayne!” Bruce walks in…
But it’s not him. Instead, it’s one of the cast members dressed in a black suit with horribly gelled brown hair.
Everyone in the audience is wondering where the actual Bruce is before another cast member runs onstage crying, “Help! Help! I’ve just been robbed! Somebody call Batman!”
A mini version of the bat-signal lights up…
We hear some generic hero music play…
And there he is: Bruce Wayne dressed in a horribly cheap Batman costume
(They got the cowl ALL wrong btw)
Bruce puts his hands on his hips in a weird superhero pose. Bruce: “I’m Batm-” Cast Member: *runs out to attach another mic to his costume* Bruce: “….I’m Batman!”
Cue all of the gags and digs against Batman. The fake Bruce faints then starts crying under a table. Someone calls Batman a furry. Bruce is barely keeping it together the whole time. Lord help him, but he asked for it. He approved the skit.
Bruce: “Looks like a job for my bat taser!” Cast Member: “Isn’t that just a taser with a bat on it?” Bruce: *whispers* “You shut your mouth.”
He saves the day, the police take the thief into custody, then Batman myStErioUsly disappears. Bruce: “Look over there!” *runs off* Cast Member: “Oh my gooood, how did he do that?”
CLOSING SEGMENT
Finally, they have the Weekend Update where Bruce comes on as himself for the final time.
Since they got his permission, the writers switch out some of Bruce’s jokes last minute. (Think Bill Hader’s Stefon which notoriously caused him to break character because the writers would mess with his cue cards.)
News Anchor: “Here to promote his newest humanitarian project: Bruce Wayne!” “Mr. Wayne, what a pleasure to see you today.” Bruce: “Thank you. This is probably the longest I’ve been out of the house.” News Anchor: “Since the Riddler catastrophe?” Bruce: “Since ever.”
News Anchor: “So Mr. Wayne! Before you make your announcement, any life updates?” Bruce: “Yes, actually. Just a few days ago, I adopted five- *starts losing it* five more children.” News Anchor: “Wow, really? So you have eight kids now.” Bruce: “Uh huh. *tears streaming down his face* One more orphan and I get the tenth one free.”
News Anchor: “So where can people find you online?” Bruce: “Well, I don’t have social media because I’m afraid of people, but sometimes I’m on Twitter.” News Anchor: “What about a phone call?” Bruce: “Oh no, phone calls- *giggle* phone calls give me fainting spells.”
It’s a great way of finishing the show, with the most genuine version of Bruce. Then, he gets to what’s really important!
News Anchor: “So if they can’t reach you on social media or on the phone, what else can our viewers do, Mr. Wayne?” Bruce: “They can donate to the Wayne Foundation’s newest charity called The Arts Initiative. It funds programs for the arts in underdeveloped school districts nationwide. I’ve already donated $30 million, and I’ve pledged to match every dollar donated within the next week.”
And that’s what he’s here for :) They share a link for where and how to donate. The anchors praise him for his charity, which he deflects because he can definitely afford this, and the 90-minute broadcast is over.
The camera pans away with the whole cast waving goodbye, and Bruce is seen keeling over with laughter.
Along with some of the other skits, these four specifically go viral. WE raises a fuck ton of money, and everyone loves Bruce.
THE END
LOVE YOU ALL!! Let me know what you think :D
#battinson#bruce wayne#batman#batman 2022#the batman 2022#the batman#battinson needs a hug#gotham#dc universe#dc#saturday night live#snl#soft bruce wayne#batdad#batfamily#gotham city#brucie wayne#only in gotham#give battinson a child 2k23
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I THINK WE MARRIED IN VEGAS
✷ You and Jeonghan have always been friends, and friends go on a trip together, right? And somehow friends always end up marrying in Las Vegas right? And somehow friends become roommates as well right? That all seems very normal when Yoon Jeonghan has a weird addiction to doing the dumbest things ever just for shock value.
✷ genre: comedy (?), angst, smut (minors don't interact)
✷ word count: 28.244
✷ featuring: Yoon Ttoram, Choi Seungcheol, Lee Seokmin, Kim Mingyu as the unnamed satan-spit roommate one night stand, and Xu Minghao as the gothic impasto painter guy.
✷ thea’s note: hey y’all this is my longest fic yet so I’m weirdly proud. I had fun writing this and trying to figure out how to build this Jeonghan and yes I did rewatched the birth of Ttoram while writing this. By the way - love you guys but the whole credit/debt/buying a house is just for plot I do not know how any of this works in America (and it is mainly set in America because I needed Vegas lol) <3 So bear with it. Also thanks to @wongyuuu for keeping me company in this nanowimo challenge, and thaks to @toruro Mika you are the best <3 thank you for reading this
✷ Smut warnings under the read more ✷
✷ smut count: lost count of how many times Jeonghan thought he was going to cum on his pant, 1 dick sucked, teenagers level of horniness, non penetrative sex still sex, a lot of kissing, a 3 second of cumplay still a cumplay i guess.
"Should we do it?" you hear Jeonghan ask, his face focused on something outside the car’s window. The lights of all the neon signs dance on his face and features—like a scene from a movie. He looks tired and overworked even though you are somewhat on vacation.
"Do what?" you ask, trying to understand what he meant. Maybe he was talking about a hotel spa and you missed the beginning of the sentence because you were too lost in your own thoughts? Yeah, a message would be a lifesaver right now.
"That," he says, pointing at one of the hundreds of little chapels in Las Vegas. This one has a deal sign in big and bold letters—an Elvis Presley priest, a bouquet, a professional photographer, and a bottle of champagne for half the price. Well, you never thought about off-season in Vegas, but maybe business was a little rough at this time of the year, but to be quite honest that did seem like a great deal—the shopaholic in you would fall for it if it didn’t involve marriage.
"Are you drunk already?" you ask. Even though you have known the man for years, you still can’t read Jeonghan properly.
Sometimes you think about how he is a book that is written in a different language, and you couldn’t have access to him without a dictionary on the side. Jeonghan does look like a classic—he is well put together, he is fancy, and he would be one of those books that have an embellished spine—the prettiest book on your bookshelf. But at the same time, he is one of those books that need commentaries on every page because somehow the author didn't care about giving enough context or didn't think his work would survive so many years. And one that the storylines end up being totally fucked up, so basically a Russian classical.
"No, I'm painfully sober," Jeonghan says while leaning his head on the window of the car. It almost makes you laugh when you hear the loud sound of him bumping his head, even the Uber driver who didn’t utter a word turns his head back. "It's just," he starts again, "I heard Seungcheol talking about it, and it seems nice to be married."
"What are you talking about?” you say in disbelief, “Seungcheol is not married yet, he is having a bachelor party in Vegas. He is drinking his weight in alcohol and spending the college tuition of his firstborn in the casino. You and him know about the same thing about marriage, which equals barely anything."
“Yeah but he did talk about all the perks—Oh thank you,” he notices that the Uber finally arrived at the hotel feat casino and all the Vegas shenanigans. Jeonghan holds the car door for you, like a true gentleman—you almost scoff. “What I was trying to say is, Seungcheol did talk to me about being married, it doesn’t feel like a bad deal at all.” Again, he holds the door for you.
“So we should just get married in Vegas because Seungcheol said it is a great deal?” you ask Jeonghan like he said the stupidest thing ever, which is partially true. It was one of the stupidest things he’d ever said to you, and you’ve known the man for years—you’ve witnessed a fair amount of his stupidity, all laced with his all-knowing smile. Every time you tried to understand what he was talking about it always left you feeling like this man was insane.
“I mean? What would you lose?” Jeonghan asked, crossing his arms after pushing the elevator buttons—one for your room, the other one so the door closes faster (he is one of those people).
“A lot?” you say almost laughing. What the fuck? It resonates in your mind, almost like the words are bumping the walls of your cranium, like the old Windows 98 screensaver logo.
“Yeah? Like what?” Jeonghan asks and the ping of the elevator makes sure both of you know that it arrived before opening the door.
“Freedom,” you say, trying to stay normal and not succumb to Jeonghan—you both hear someone saying,“Hold!” across the hall. Jeonghan just smiles and clicks the button to close the door. Maniac really, without basic education. To be fair though, it was a frat dude with another frat dude who could wait for the next elevator without dying, but still.
“Come on, you are a book editor. You love everything that has nothing to do with freedom, you love rules and everything that shackles you.” You scoff hearing Jeonghan’s words.
You want to argue, you want to kick and scream and pick a fight because is he basically calling you boring right? He is totally calling you the most boring person he’s ever met, and you are in Vegas - and still, somehow, you are the boring girl. But he is right about it—you do not leave your comfort zone, you do not do crazy very well, and you don’t even drink that much because losing control of situations makes you slightly insane. And Jeonghan is right because he is one of your closest friends, and you talked about it with him, he even knows how this is a recurrent topic in your therapy. Asshole.
“Well, still don’t give me the urge to marry you, your sales points are awful—how do you hold your job?” You ask side eyeing your friend, well, if you wanted to marry someone calling them boring is not the right way to do it.
“I do a better job when I need to sell to investors, I’m not giving my all right now since you are not paying me,” Jeonghan says, leaving the elevator and looking back at you. Well, not giving your all when you are asking someone for marriage - number two mistake.
“I’d hope so, otherwise your name would be number one in the next layoff,” you say rolling your eyes.
“Come on,” Jeonghan scoffs. “You didn’t hear Seungcheol talking about the benefits," he says, opening the door to your shared hotel door. The deal was to sleep in a weird hotel that may have bedbugs or share a room and a bed with Jeonghan in a more upscale hotel whose bathroom didn’t look like a crime scene. Not a difficult decision, to be quite honest.
“Is Seungcheol now a pro-marriage coach?” you ask, taking off your shoes and leaving your bag on the nearest chair.
“Probably, I mean, the side money would be crazy,” he says, taking off his watch and leaning against the table, again crossing his arms. “What I meant is did you ever think about the tax deduction, health insurance benefits, leave benefits? Also, Seungcheol did remind me that the bank raises the chance of getting approved credits if the spouse has a great credit history.”
“Yet he is the one marrying because he loves his girlfriend,” you remind Jeonghan, because apparently he is forgetting one the key ingredients of marriage in contemporary societies - love, affection, and a dose of “I love you but leaving with you every time you forget the toothpaste open is making me thinking about how life in hell would look like.”
“Right,” Jeonghan scoffs, making you even more curious.
“What would you need credits for?” you ask. Jeonghan is an unmarried and childless man, who works on investments, travels twice a year, and has a car. You on the other hand work in a crumbling industry - books, who reads books? - don’t travel a lot and your car is like twelve years old.
“Marry me and I tell you,” Jeonghan answered without letting the ball drop, quick on his feet like always, you could never catch this man.
“Tell me and I will think about it,” You try to pry.
“A house.” He says earnestly.
Again - you know Jeonghan, and you know your friend is a lunatic, but you also know when he is being completely honest with you. The man did want that house, which was completely weird. Jeonghan was a city guy, he was living in a rented apartment sure, but it was a great apartment, it even had a view. He worked downtown, why would he need a house?
“A house?” You try again, trying to get more details of what the heck is making your friend go crazy out of a sudden.
“Yeah, a house.” He says shrugging like it is the most common thing ever, maybe it is a well-known scheme of marrying for taxes and credits that you don’t know, maybe you are late. Maybe you are outdated putting together marriage and love in the same sentence, maybe, the world has changed. “Will you marry me?” Jeonghan asks you in his dullest voice ever like he is tired and completely bored.
“No.” You deadpan.
“Come on, at least pretend that you are thinking about it,” Jeonghan says, lying on the bed horizontally, his face is now closer to you and his legs are too big so they hang out of the bed, like a kid almost. “It has four bedrooms so you can move and say fuck you to Laurel the accountability girl.”
Well, that makes you think about it. He should have started with that. Maybe if he just proposed a new roommate scheme you would’ve said yes in the uber.
“I don't hate her that much,” you lied through your teeth, you hated that girl. You blamed the real state crisis because the rent was crazy, sharing the apartment was a good deal on paper, and half of the rent money went to your savings account so you could live in peace - Jeonghan actually advised you on how to save and where to invest if you wanted to retire quickly, but you never really thought about buying shares and selling shares and the whole ordeal.
“Fuck you,” He laughs, “every week I have to hear you complain how she lets food go bad and how it leaves your fridge stinky enough to make you almost puke, and that only happens when she doesn't food go bad on the kitchen counter or wait, do you remember when she forgets to lock the door two times last week?”
“Well, I am sorry if I have listened to true crimes podcast enough to be actually aware of the horrors of being a woman and how serial killers are out there just waiting for you to sleep with the fucking door open,” you say like you are the most reasonable person ever.
“And you are right, what I am saying is that I would lock the door so no one can enter the house, I would be a better roommate.”
“Sure we do not have to marry to be roommates we can look for suitable places in our price range,”
“Look at this,” Yoon Jeonghan says, fiddling with his phone, “It has four bedrooms, three and a half bathrooms, the kitchen is great, it has a backyard and a solarium.”
“Fuck-” You say, sitting on the bed, your thigh close enough to his arm that you feel the warmth of his skin, “that’s, that's crazy.”
“I know,” he says turning on the bed and closing his hand on his stomach like he is dead, just staring at the ceiling, “The price is not bad either, one of my clients is trying to sell so he can invest in a new startup so it is not actually in the market right now but will be in a few weeks so-”
“Did you try to get the loan?” You ask, finger still going on his phone looking at different pics of this completely perfect house. All the rooms were big, and with natural light - crazy. The Solarium looked like a thing out of this world. And you could see yourself living there, if you had enough money you could live the dream, but that house was just out of your price range. God, with that garden you could have a dog. Damn.
“I don't want to pay interest to a bank,” Jeonghan almost whines, because he knows how this whole thing works and how he would have to pay the loan and half of the loan because banks are greedy bastards.
“Can I have two bedrooms?”
“What do you need two bedrooms for?” Jeonghan asks, finally looking at you and dropping his i-am-almost-dead act.
“My room, one office,” you explain. You know the office would be the one with two larger windows facing the garden. Oh what a joy - to build a life you would never live, it was indeed one of your favorite hobbies, maybe that’s why you love books so much.
“Ok, I guess. I can make something out of the basement.” Jeonghan replies nonchalantly making you laugh.
Maybe that’s why you two were friends, you had a great time speaking nonsense to one another. You both just kept feeding into whatever fantasy you built, like reality could not touch everything. You and Jeonghan had this weird pattern of just sitting, eating and talking for hours and hours about whatever that had nothing to do with the truth. What would you do if you won the lottery? What would you do when you retire? What would you do if you woke up on a desert island? What would you do if your boss was imprisoned for embezzlement? Ok not the last one, scratch that, this one actually happened.
“I can give you 5% of the price tag, and we can share the loan if it matches my current rent price range, but we need to actually draft something with a lawyer later so we can only sell the house to ourselves, I don’t trust you enough to buy this house without a lawyer on my side.”
“Dude-” Jeonghan jerks on the bed, he sits and turns his body to face you. “Wait, do you hate Laurel that much?”
“Yoon Jeonghan, do you want a marriage to up your credit score or what? I paid my student loans in record time, the banks love me.”
“I don’t know if you are joking or not,” He tells you.
"Can you call room service?" You ask heading to the bathroom, while you tie your hair - like you are preparing yourself for a dire work task - maybe talk to a translator about a deadline, they are worse than writers, "I think we will need more alcohol."
"Wait," you hear Jeonghan's voice echo through the door, "are we actually gonna do it?"
You are joking.
And you know Jeonghan was too. With the years of knowing him, you knew that the majority of things that left Jeonghan's mouth had a shock value purpose. Induce distress first, we talk about truth later - or never. That made you 100% sure that you would never marry that man. You knew him enough - twelve years, since high school. He knew you as well - he knew all your teenage traumas, all of your romance fiasco, and he met all of your exes.
You would never, never, marry that man.
Right?
Oh fuck. Oh fuck.
When you open your eyes and the white ceiling greets you, you can hear yourself groaning almost involuntarily. Your head aches. You know you will regret everything that happened the night before, even though you don't know what actually happened, and what you need to hold yourself accountable for. But you know the taste of a life-changing hangover that has a side dish of regret and a cup of shame to go. But it couldn’t possibly be so bad right?
Ok, maybe moving your body was not the very first thing to do. You try to open your eyes again. Well, at least you were in your own hotel room. Jeonghan is by your side, his arm across your stomach and somehow his face is near your armpit. You try to sniffle yourself, but so far doesn't like you are actually stinky. Your deodorant was doing a great job so far, maybe it actually has a 24-hour action or something like that.
You try to lift yourself up, sitting in the bed, head in hand because everything spins. Oh God help you. Besides the headache you feel sticky and sweaty, and all gross. You can't believe you didn't shower, and if you didn't shower you didn't take your makeup off, and if you didn't take your makeup off you totally threw your 43-day steak of doing your skincare routine. Fuck. Maybe you could just delete the app, or pretend that yesterday never happened. Deal with the blank day that screams how bad you fucked up was not an option though, it would never happen.
“What the fuck did we drink?” You hear Jeonghan's hoarse voice. You take the hands off your eyes, the clarity feels like punching your cornea and brain, and Jeonghan's state is not very different from yours, his shirt is open and ruffled, his arms are shielding his eyes from the light entering the room, his hair is messy and he looks like he needed four days of sleep.
“Fuel? Petrol? Satan spit in a cup?” You answer dropping yourself on the bed again, every joint of your body aches. It is ridiculous how you feel trapped in a 90 years old body, and like that is not enough you feel nauseated beyond words. And every time you can feel and hear Jeonghan breathing it feels like it is piercing your skull, would be rude to ask your friend to stop breathing and just stay completely still? He would understand, right?
“Do you think room service can get us some painkillers?” He groans lifting himself up this time, “Or maybe a gun?”
“Can you call them? I think I will puke if I sit for more than half a minute,” you say, your hand going into your mouth as if it would actually help if the worst-case scenario happened.
“I think I can, the problem is that you need to get me the phone,” Jeonghan tells you groaning between words. His hand points to the object and there is no way in hell you are moving to get that, that would mean you getting up and turning and being alive altogether.
“I can't I told you I gonna puke,” you try to explain how serious your condition - also known as hangover - is.
“It is by your side of the bed" He groans again and yet he sounds just like a petulant child, maybe it is a gift.
“I can't I will puke on the carpet it only makes things worse,” you try again, “or worse I can puke on the bed, you included in the radio of the vomit you know it splashes.”
“Ok, stand still,” Jeonghan says, “don't kick me, I'm doing it for both of us”
And you do as you are told because being still right now is the only thing you can do - even moving your eyeballs seems too much right. So Jeonghan just dropped his body on top of yours, he is also sweaty, and he reeks of alcohol. Damn, he actually smells like gasoline. He picks up the phone and presses a few buttons. His body is still above yours, pressing into you.
“Be quick you are pressing my blade," you say after the surprise of having him against you fazes out.
“What the fuck do you need to pee or vomit? Ah yes, hello,” He says changing his voice in the middle of the sentence from something that says intimacy is a disease to his customer service voice without pausing, “hm do you guys have room service that includes painkillers?” He waits, nodding his head as he hears something before he remembers his on the telephone. “Oh okay, thank you, can you send it? Oh yeah great, yes if you can do that, yes, pancakes, toasts with poached eggs and avocado, coffee hmm” he thinks about it, looks at you, thinks about a second or two, and then adds, “Can you send us four cups of coffee? Thank you.”
Jeonghan finishes the call with a groan leaving his mouth, he places the phone on its holder. But when you think he will get himself off of you he only plops down, his body weight getting heavier. His bones poking your body, what the fuck he was doing with your elbow on your ribcage?
“Jeonghan what the fuck-" You complain, trying to kick your legs in a vain attempt to make your friend move.
“I got us painkillers and food, let me recharge for a bit stop complaining,” Jeonghan says in a dead tone of voice, almost like he is dealing with a kid throwing some type of tantrum - the only thing is that, in this occasion, the child is you and somehow you want to kick his shin, because you are the one right in this situation, and you could totally just plop down in a mall disgusting floor if Yoon Jeonghan was your father too.
“You are heavy!” You try again but somehow Jeonghan is stronger than you think and his body is still over yours like nothing is happening, maybe you are just dehydrated and fucking muscle-less, maybe the yoga wasn’t doing much when you almost killed your liver.
“I am not,” Jeonghan says, now he is the one being the moody child in the supermarket, maybe he will go off without parental supervision. Oh wait, this was Yoon Jeonghan he actually did wander away when he was out about with his parent and ended up three blocks away just because he saw an ice cream truck. Jeonghan was the easiest kid to be kidnapped, you ask yourself how he ended up being safe and sound, and in one piece.
“Just because you are skinny it doesn’t mean you aren’t heavy.” You try again pushing on Jeonghan bony shoulder, even that is pointy. “bones are heavy too, get off of me!”
“You kind of stink," Jeonghan says, his head still lodged in the space between your neck and shoulder.
“Well you asshole you are not better yourself, and you are stinky too and sticky like you showered in bear or something.”
“Maybe I did, I don’t know I can't actually think,” He groans finally trying to lift himself up, “We should shower,” he says sitting on the bed and looking down at you.
“You go first,” both of you say at the same time
You end up going first. Mainly because you needed to pee and you think that once you are up you may as well just use the opportunity to shower otherwise you would just drop dead on the floor and never get up again - you will be stinky and gross forever. Also, you think that if hell breaks loose and Jeonghan actually pukes you at least already used the shower. Back in college, he puked on the sink because it was the closest thing to the door, or whatever poor excuse he came up with, and that scene still haunts you, because somehow the sink was clogged. Ew, you think, finishing peeing and wiping yourself up. You wash your hands and say thank you for your past self because your necessaire is splayed on the counter, you pick up your face wash and head to the shower. Ok, let's deal with it. You need to wash your hair too. You open the register, letting the water hit your foot in an attempt to get just the perfect temperature.
You close and open the registers a few times - to fix the temperature, but you not gonna lie, to make up your mind too. But when you let the water hit your face - in an almost drowning attempt, you know you made the right decision, shower first was the only option. You let the water wash away for a few minutes until you are ready to really start your shower. First step - wash your face. Well, you needed to buy a new face wash this one was in its last few stages of life, you close your eyes and start to rub against your skin, normal, until you few something slightly different on your hand - almost like scratching the skin, you open your eyes and you finally notice, a band on your finger.
You turn your hand and it finally hits you.
It is a ring.
With a big rock.
In your ring finger.
A big damn rock on your ring finger.
“Yoon Jeonghan” you scream in horror.
On the other side of that door, Jeonghan just hears you scream. He actually picks himself up in record time and room towards the bathroom, oh shit did you just fall and hit your head? Did you break the glass of the fancy hotel shower? Are you dying? So without thinking much Jeonghan opens the bathroom door and he just finds you - completely naked and seemly okay, just staring at your own hand.
“What happened?” He asks trying to catch his own breath, maybe he does need to start working out man, he didn’t feel this horrible when he was hitting the gym after shifts, but also he didn’t feel that great either the whole gym rat thing was not his ordeal.
“What did we do?” You ask still in complete horror, not even thinking about how this is the first time Yoon Jeonghan, your friend is seeing you completely naked. 10/10 would not recommend this experience. Not even to Laurel, her satan spit roommate.
“What? Are you going crazy? I thought you fell and opened your skull or something,”
You just look at Jeonghan, dead in his eyes, like the reality is worse than falling in the bathroom, opening your skull and calling the paramedics naked. You just turn your hand to him - like it is enough to make him understand what a dire situation it is. And you swear to god you can almost see the little flakes of light on the bathroom floor, the rock is big enough to shine across the room.
“Did you call me to show me your ring? Couldn’t you wait until you put your clothes on?” Jeonghan asks leaning into the doorway.
“Jeonghan did we-” you say but you feel your own throat closing around itself, it can’t be right?
“Hm?” he asks without a blink of an eye.
“Oh we did, we totally did," you sighed, more to yourself than to Jeonghan.
“No, you are not that crazy,” he claimed. What is that even was supposed to mean? He was crazy enough for it but you the two goody shoes wasn’t?
“Jeonghan check your bank receipt,” you demanded, trying to connect the dots in a way, trying to find a physical proof, maybe you just bought a way too expensive ring for yourself, or maybe it was just impulse buying.
Before you can move Jeonghan almost runs towards the room, you try your best to keep up with him but you are a little behind because for the first time, you actually are aware of how naked you are. You pick up the fluffy bathroom robe - yeah the fancy hotel had its perks.
“Oh fuck” you can hear Jeonghan before you can see him, his phone it’s on his lap, his head is on his head - he is a man defeated.
“Did we?” You try to probe, but your voice sounds weird in your own ears - almost small, and the reality hits you, you are kinda scared. The reality of maybe having fucked up hits you like a trunk, you always been a nice girl, you never fucked up - at least not that bad, what would you mean if you married on a drunk whim?
“I think,” Jeonghan says, his hand on his greasy hair, fuck he needed a shower. “I think we fucked up real bad.”
You sit beside Jeonghan, you both staring at the wall ahead of you in disbelief. You are still gross, but now your damp hair is actually dropping on the bed and you can’t bring yourself to care. The fact that Jeonghan is motionless by your side without uttering a word is what freaks you out more. Jeonghan is not someone who is fazed so easily - his mouth is agape and his eyebrows furred, the ‘i-am-utterly-stressed’ Jeonghan feature is what freaks you out really.
“Ok Hannie,” you breathe softly. “That’s what we are going to do, I am going to shower, then you are going to shower, we gonna eat breakfast, then we are going to return this ring, then we are going to call Joshua, he is a lawyer, right? He probably will know what to do.”
“Joshua is a real estate lawyer,” Jeonghan mutters without blinking.
“Jeonghan focus!” You say getting out of bed, “divorce is a thing we don’t need to stay married.”
You take one of the longest showers in human history. You needed a good shower, but, the majority of the time under the shower you think about how the hell you got so drunk to marry Jeonghan. Some flashes of memory blink on the forefront of your mind every time you blink; a vegas chapel, not an Elvis but an Elton John in front of you, Jeonghan picking one of the most expensive ring in a fancy story. How the fuck fancy jewelry runs for twenty four hours?
Every flash comes with a sharp pain, the fucking headache.
When you get out of the bathroom the breakfast is already in the room. You take a bit of egg and toast just so you can shove coffee down your throat without having to deal with the stomach pain. You search the ring case and don’t find anywhere, maybe it is safe on Jeonghan’s thing, maybe he kept it safe, or you hope so. When you sit on the bed you stare down the ring, it is a beautiful ring and you are pretty sure it is something Jeonghan chose, it is beautiful, but at the same time, it is just too much.
You need to return it, no doubt about it.
You try to take the ring one and somehow it doesn’t even budge. You scoff, what a tricky little thing. So you try again, and again the thing doesn’t move. You can feel the drop in your blood pressure, what the heck? You lost track of the time when Jeonghan opened the bathroom door and you looked at him in shock, you look down at your red and bloated finger.
“This shit is stuck in my finger?” You say trying to take off one final time before just breaking your finger.
“Well, I think this is a good time to tell you,” he starts his voice all weird and over the place, “I kinda fucked up.”
“Jeonghan we are apparently married I already know we fucked everything up.”
“No, I-” Jeonghan begins, his hands now going through his washed hair, still wet and dripping on the floor, “I found a shred receipt and an invoice.”
“What the fuck?” You almost yell in pure knee-jerk reaction.
“I think it is yours now?” Jeonghan shrugs, like it is not a big deal even though you know that this ring is expensive, it must be, it has a giant rock and even though you know close to nothing about jewelry it looks expensive.
“What happened to us?” You question.
“You ask me? You don't remember anything?" Jeonghan says sincerely, and you know it is true. Jeonghan was kind of a prankster, he kinda did push people to its limit, but part of it was just doing fun things but also harmless shit. Like entering the beach at night, or hiding someone’s phone and pretending they did leave in the hotel so they can enjoy the trip without being bombarded by their special someone - read Seungcheol yesterday at lunch.
“Can we call Joshua?”
“I think we can do that later,” Jeonghan checks his watch, “I think it would be wiser just to show up to Seungcheol’s lunch and pretend that mini golf is fun, it would bring suspicious otherwise.”
“Jeonghan we married we didn’t commit a crime,” you say looking at him in disbelief.
“Do you want to deal with Seungcheol’s monologue about us getting married? I don’t think I want to deal with that with a killer hangover after a wedding walk of shame in fucking Las Vegas,” he drops. And God, that really sounds like a nightmare.
“Yeah,” you say looking at the big rock on your thing, “you are right, but we should probably still call Joshua,”
“I told you he is a real state lawyer didn’t I?” He says almost rudely to you, and you want to say that if you two are married both of you said yes it is not like you are the only one responsible for it but you try not to push his buttons.
“And what is your option Jeonghan?”
“I’m thinking about just getting drunk again so I can forget everything that is happening right now.”
What a fucking great idea.
Seungcheol is one of Jeonghan’s closest friends from college. Seungcheol just became your friend because you and Jeonghan were weirdly bound at the hip. You both shared your high school years, and when you two enrolled at the same university you only had two options, pretend you two didn’t know each other, or become conjoined twins. Jeonghan was a business major, you were enrolled in every class that had literature, poetry, or the name of a dead guy on it. But still, you and Seungcheol became great friends even though he is a finance guy. And Seungcheol was the reason you two were on a Vegas trip, the last trip of his life as an unmarried man, he had to make a sketchy deal with his fiancé in order to it to happen but still, according to him, it was worthy.
“Nice shot!” You hear Seungcheol's voice loud, bringing you back to reality. He is clapping as Seokmin - one of his other friends from work hits the ball down the hole.
Seungcheol’s voice, loud and clear, brings you back to reality.
Oh the joys of playing mini golf before lunch, you could spend days and days talking about how much you loved the idea and how every hole seems like a fucking nightmare but you are a married woman. Needless to say this whole situation wasn’t in your 2023 bingo card. You don’t pay attention when it is Jeonghan or Seungcheol’s turn, you wait until you have to put the ball in the hole, it probably takes you double the time, and then it starts again, ad infinitum. At least they are kind enough to not pressure you to perform like Tiger Woods or something.
You think about Jeonghan though. Somehow, he hasn’t changed. Jeonghan was the same Jeonghan you met in high school, of course, he matured and the years turned into baggage, but Jeonghan was still your friend who was playful enough to get married on a whim. Jeonghan was everything you weren’t in a way, somewhat playful and carefree, and still a very practical human being. Jeonghan was mischievous, but yet, not even once, he pushed you until you couldn’t take it, and that makes you think that somehow, with an unknown reason, in your drunk stupor, you wanted to marry Jeonghan, because hell can break loose, the skies can fall, but Jeonghan would never make you do something you did not want to do.
While Jeonghan and Seungcheol are busy hitting those tiny balls Seokmin stops by your side. You like Seokmin, Seokmin is kind, and you constantly think about how he is surviving the finance world, he doesn’t seem cut to it, but somehow he manages to stay alive against the monsters of capitalism, or, worse, he stays alive feed the monsters of capitalism. Ew. Seokmin’s face though seems focused on another thing, he looks in shock and happy at the same time, he probably did the whole hole in less than three shots you think.
“Oh my god,” He almost screams making you jolt in place, in all truth that was pretty much a common occurrence when your day to day involved Seokmin.
“Hm?” You question puzzled, looking at him trying to find a clue of something behind his feature when Jeonghan and Seungcheol finally join the two of you on the sideline.
“What is that?” Seokmin asks and you still without a fucking clue of what he is talking about. “Damn,” he says with his big smile across his face, making the tip of his nose get even more pronounced, “are you guys planning a surprise and I just ruined it?” His face changes in a blink of an eye.
“What surprise?” Jeonghan questions taking a drink of his gatorade like he was in the middle of an excruciating sport and not fucking mini golf after an unsafe amount of alcohol.
“That thing!” Seokmin cheered, and then it downs on you - the big ass ring on your hand, propped on the golf putter, and before you can hide it or chop your hand off the three man in your sight is eying the big damn rock that you forgot about,
“The what?” Seungcheol blurted.
“This is an engagement ring right?” Seokmin asks and you think about an ostrich, putting its head on the ground, you think you can do the same in one of the circuit's holes.
“No, it isn’t, how the hell they are engaged when they aren’t dating?” Seungcheol scoffs, acting like Seokmin is saying something that doesn't make sense, something that happened numerous times before, it could be happening again. It was happening again, at least to Seungcheol.
“We saw that one when we were looking for your fiancée present though,” Seokmin says all pouty and confused, and you think you almost try to defend his point of view as you always do, just because he is cute.
“It isn’t an engagement right?” Seungcheol asks
“It would be weird to be an engagement ring,” Jeonghan acknowledged the absurdity that envelopes the situation that you two are in, you want to try to take off the ring and just throw it across the field of mini golf, but a) it looked extra expensive, b) the three guys didn't even blink looking at your hand.
“Did you buy for aesthetic proposal?” Seokmin asks, "A girl that works with the human resources team did buy one just because she thought it was pretty."
“Of course,” Seungcheol claps, “I mean fashion was never your strong suit,” He says and it almost feels like a jab, “I almost brought that one, Jeonghan was dead set on this, saying it was the ring, but it was a bit on the expensive side”
“How expensive are we talking about?” You try to pry your body from reacting physically to the fact that Jeonghan shredded a fucking invoice and receipt, and the fact that even Seungcheol - the guy who buys twelves tumblers just because it was cute and ends up giving them away finds that expensive sets a new parameter of money waste.
“You didn’t check the price?" Seokmin asks, when you remain silent he continues, “Wow be you must be nice, balling and shit."
“How expensive are we talking about Seungcheol?” You try again, "Seokmin?" If you can’t return this damn thing at least you can try to sell it later. If you can’t find someone who can buy this you can sell for those weird and sketchy stores but you need to know how much you are actually losing on the deal, well, not you, Jeonghan but still, if you know the man he will just accept his fate and never move a muscle to deal with this ring situation.
“You really didn't check the price hun?” Seungcheol questions raising his eyebrow, like he always did when he couldn’t quite believe in you and it always made you feel angry with him. It was a tale almost, even when you were telling the truth he always raised that eyebrow questioning you, making you explain yourself.
“I brought the ring,” Jeonghan says nonchalantly like he is saying that he brought the bread on his way home. Jeonghan had this thing, a completely loath to let other people know his truest feelings. Even if he was one step away from a panic attack he would not tell you.
“Why would you do that?” Seungcheol asks again his voice is two tones higher, and you feel like he is questioning the two of you, and in his own mind he is the bad cop in the situation - Seungcheol liked that type of shit, and you think that maybe he is so into that because Jeonghan is his polar opposite, never giving Seungcheol a reaction.
“I told you I thought it was a beautiful ring man,” Jeonghan deadpans and take his fingers to move his bangs out of his eyes - making him look like a fucking prick, looking down at everyone else, and you know that just tickles something in Seungcheol. “What I am trying to say,” Jeonghan tries again, “is that the ring It is not an engagement ring because I didn’t ask her to marry me yet,” Jeonghan says walking by your side and enveloping your shoulder in an awkward hug. “I just confessed my feelings, it might be over the top a bit but you guys know I just had my eye on the ring.”
“Dude! Finally!” Seokmin says hugging Jeonghan, and you almost feel yourself choking on air.
When Jeonghan is free he whispers against your ear, his breath on your skin making you shrink, “Just bear with it.”
“What?” Seungcheol asks “Out of nowhere, you confessed your feelings? With an engagement ring?”
“Not an engagement ring Seungcheol we won't crash your wedding, relax,” Jeonghan says again, rolling his eyes.
“How much it was?” You try again dead set on finding out how much that was, apparently a new hyper-fixation.
“Babe,” Jeonghan says looking at you with a mischievous smile across his face, “it is not polite to talk about the price tag”
“What the hell I am watching right now?” Seungcheol bristled, more in anger than in frustration.
“It was long overdue really,” Seokmin gushed, in a terrible contrast to Seungcheol’s features, his voice is loud and his big smile stretches across his face, “I thought it was so fucking weird you two sharing a hotel room with the excuse of saving money, like we know Jeonghan has money,” Seokmin points to the ring, making your skin crawl.
“We are returning this,” you tell Jeonghan, your voice low while elbowing his ribs.
“Baby I told you,” Jeonghan appealed, grabbing your shoulder “We can’t do that”
“Like I personally found you guys always so weird like, I think I even asked Seungcheol if you guys were married in the past because you guys are really,” he moves his hands in a weird move in a way to mean how close you always had been, “like truly crazy and then I asked Seungcheol and he was like it is never gonna happen and I was like-"
And Seokmin goes on for about a good five minutes about how he thought the two of you were a couple, and in a way, you were so used to it that it didn't even startle you. The problem was that Seokmin truly believed Jeonghan’s lies, one thing was to think that you two were in a relationship - everyone had this basic reaction since the two were in college, even one of Jeonghan’s ex-girlfriend thought of, one of your coworkers too, Jeonghan’s door to door neighbors too, almost every single soul you two met. That alone was something you began to understand, yeah you and Jeonghan had a weird level of intimacy.
If you mash together your college years you can sum up in - of course, we do not date, of course, you can go ahead and kiss him in this horrible pub, oh yeas I am living in his dorm at ungodly hours just because we decided to binge watch a docuseries, oh if I am wearing Jeonghan's clothes? Haha He saved my ass because I doped the coffee on my clothes - ps. The coffee didn't exist, and his girlfriend did break things up a week later, Jeonghan swore it wasn't because of you. Once one guy broke up with you because when he smelled you he could recognize Jeonghan's smell on you, Jeonghan toke as his duty to just fuck up with that guy's mind for a whole month. He told you over and over again that the guy was wrong and basically called you a cheater, so you might as well plant enough evidence to give them the mental image - Jeonghan planted underwear on said guy's returning box, a note with his own handwriting with meet me in secret at the library, and even brought you a small dog plushie to put in the box and when you asked why he said 'he will think another guy gave you a present'.
Knowing Jeonghan and the fact that he loved shocking people this whole act today didn't really shock you, in the end, you were the only that understand Jeonghan, because you would never ever fall for this weird ass act. Your default reaction to anything Jeonghan related was a fair amount of mistrust.
“What are you two doing?” Seungcheol asks again, his voice is laced with suspicion and mistrust.
“Doing what?” Jeonghan asks, his hand going to your hair and placing it behind your ear.
“Whatever you guys are doing,” Seungcheol says pointing his fingers at the both of you, and you think it is dumb to even pretend something to Seungcheol, he knows you, he knows Jeonghan he knows nothing like that would even happen and you still don't know why Jeonghan is even trying to lie to him.
“Jeonghan-” you whine, marrying in Vegas is indeed something that brings you shame and regret but lying to your friends is even worse, how would you deal with that later?
You think you would prefer listening to Seungcheol’s monologue about how both of you are completely crazy, unreasonable, and unreliable, all of that rings true now. And it was Seungcheol, he would end up knowing somehow, even if you didn’t tell him now, you both would end up telling him. This whole scheme would fall like a house of cards somehow. You couldn't knock on Seungcheol door and say haha we were kidding, but Jeonghan could, you would make him do it.
“Seungcheol that’s actually-”
“What are we supposed to believe that after what? A decade you just woke up brought a ring and confessed your feelings?” Seungcheol asks, raising his voice enough to make you look around the damn mini golf to see if anyone is insane enough to care about this damn scene, “When you are a commitment phobe who has been on my ass for the past several months?”
“Look man, can you just drop it?” Jeonghan asks again - in the same aloof way he uses when he wants to piss you off, almost like he is flirting with the idea of being a patronizing prick.
“Of course not, what the hell,” Seungcheol says, his tone still on the angrier side “You didn’t even remotely tell us about this."
“Yeah well some people can actually keep secret,” Jeonghan says bitterly.
“What was that supposed to mean?” Seungcheol questions and just by the tone of his voice you know that shit is going down, you have seen countless fights between the two to know that Seungcheol was on the edge.
“It means that I can actually keep my individuality as a human being because I don’t have a crazy girlfriend who has trust issues so I need to overshare everyone’s personal life because she thinks you can cheat on her every monday to friday man,” Jeonghan quipped. He was not the one who loved to fight, Jeonghan was actually someone who would just shrug and resolve the situation later when it came back to bite his ass, but damn when he wanted to fight he was ready for it.
“Damn,” Seokmin breathed.
“What the fuck Jeonghan,” You and Seungcheol say at the same time, both in disbelief.
“It is the truth, isn't it?” Jeonghan chastised, “Dude you are traveling with friends and somehow the whole lunch was about how your girlfriend was pissed that you actually brought a ring to placate how angry she was."
“Jeonghan stop talking.” you plead, holding his arms trying to get his attention, to make him stop before things end up in a point of no return.
“Why?” Jeonghan asks you this time, eyes focused on you and not Seungcheol.
“Because you are being a fucking asshole now,” you say “This is Seungcheol bachelor’s party the man is getting married,” you try again like Seungcheol is not in the room.
“Oh you think I don’t know about that?" He says exasperated, "We are in Vegas and this motherfucker drink one beer and told us to go to our own hotel yesterday so we needed to get drunk and-”
“Jeonghan,” you say again almost like a kid tugging Jeonghan's by his shirt sleeve.
“We are in fucking Vegas and we didn’t visit one strip club and we are playing mini golf that something off about this whole trip,” Jeonghan says loudly chuckling at his own words.
“Are you seriously right now? You are going on a tirade against your friend because he doesn’t take you to strip clubs?” It is your time to act in disbelief - strip club? Seriously?
“Maybe if we were at a strip club yesterday,” Jeonghan says eying you.
“You know what?” Seungcheol speaks up. “Fuck you, you are uninvited by the way, you go on and on about how you don’t think I should marry, well, then you don’t need to show up.”
You and Jeonghan are left side by side on the mini golf field. Standing there while the world still moving around. You want to break out in laughter, you want to just laugh at how the two of your friends seem to wake up on the wrong foot, you want to knock Jeonghan's head off his shoulder, but you end up just walking to return to the damn golf club.
The whole way to the hotel you and Jeonghan spend in complete silence, not one uttering a single word.
And apparently - now you are the one that wants to start a fight out of nowhere. You are the one that wants to scream about how Jeonghan was being an unreasonable asshole. You try to wrap your head around his reasons, about why he would act like that and nothing that comes up in your own brain seems right.
So when you both are back in the hotel room - now with new sheets thank god, and less alcohol smell you just ask in the most nonsubtle way you can, you hold your own waist and ask like he was a teenager throwing a rude tantrum, “What was that?”
“What?” Jeonghan asks taking his time to take off his jewelry, watch the first thing, and later necklace, if he had any bracelet would be the third step of his routine.
“The whole Seungcheol marriage thing?”
“Well, you don’t have to deal with him drunk every Friday night telling you how overwhelmed and how he feels trapped since they set the wedding date,” Jeonghan says shrugging.
“You told me he was going on and on about how great marriage is,” you say sitting on the bed, trying to understand all the things you apparently didn't know about Jeonghan and Seungcheol.
“Yeah, he has his own list of cons in his note app," Jeonghan huffs, "every time he thinks about calling it off, I think I just memorized it because he reads more than once a day”
“Fuck,” you say in a breath. In your own mind, Seungcheol not even once doubted his choice to get married, not even once seemed unsure of his decision.
“I was the one that said Vegas," Jeonghan says sitting on your side, both of you looking at the widow that faces a fucking parking lot, "I thought that he would get drunk enough to actually mess everything up because he can’t do sober, and by mess everything up I mean breaking up with his crazy girlfriend."
“Yeah, still, you didn’t need to be a fucking asshole,” you say seriously this time trying to face him.
“Well, I panicked ok?" Jeonghan finally breaks, "I wasn’t going to tell that man who is having a daily mental breakdown that we married in fucking Vegas.”
“I mean, I don't know about you but I think your friendship with Seungcheol is more important than being lectured because you married in Vegas, Hannie,” you tell him softly, patting his thigh.
“Well,” Jeonghan says, letting his hand on top of yours, “I guess I can't be gracious always,” he says with a sad smile.
“I know you are stressed out," You say calmly, "but you lashed out at Seungcheol and it wasn't great,”
“The fuck you are defending him for?” Jeonghan says standing up and pretending he is searching for something in that damn room.
“Are you serious?”
“What?" Jeonghan chuckles, "he can go on and on about how I am a commitment-phobe type of guy who is fucked up enough to not have a fiancée like him and it is all good and fun and games? But when I call out his fucking weird relationship I am the bad guy?”
“Jeonghan,” You try but before you can even finish he cuts you.
“No, don't Jeonghan me, the fuck,” he retorted, “you have the excuse of not knowing because I don't tell you, you could think I am an asshole and a horrible boyfriend because every time someone breaks up with me even though I am a great catch,” he laughs bitterly, “You can do that, Seungcheol can't do that, he doesn't have an excuse, he knows why.”
“I never ever think about you like that,” you say sincerely because it is the truth, never once have you thought about Jeonghan being afraid of commitment or being a shit asshole. You always thought about how every girlfriend of his always looked and sounded more in love with him than the other way around, but that wasn't exactly a character flaw.
“I know,” he says already sounding exhausted.
“No I don't think you do,” you say sternly, “like it never crossed my mind really, I always thought about how they were crazy for letting you go, so what you don't want to marry someone? the fuck you can still have a great life and a great relationship with someone without a ring, and I know you are capable of it," and to your own ears you sound almost bitter, how they could be so dumb? To have a chance to have Jeonghan and let him go? “You have always been there for me, you never once wavered, I have no reason to ever think of you in that light and I don't think Seungcheol is being fair, he wasn't, but he is getting married in three weeks Han.”
“Yeah and I am telling him his girlfriend has been a freak since week two when she threw a fit because she was jealous of you,” Jeonghan says shocking you, "because according to her own crazy brain, you are way too close to men so who knows what you will do when she turns her back."
“Of me?” You say pointing at yourself, “Damn, she is crazy."
“That’s what I am trying to tell him, and he isn't fuck listening I guess.”
The whole afternoon you think about Jeonghan.
You think about him when he is lying in the bed on his cellphone, and you continuously think about him when you find him napping in the same bed. You think about everything you don't know about your friend, and you think about everything he doesn’t share with you, that he chooses not to. And you know every single human has secrets, and there are things Jeonghan doesn't know about you too. But knowing that it is one thing, dealing with the emotions that come with it is another thing altogether. Why he would not tell you? Why he would tell Seungcheol?
Those questions live in your brain, rattling and making sounds every time they crash against your skull. You think about your friendship as well. Jeonghan was always there for you. He was there when you had your first heartbreak in the third year of high school, he was there when Mark broke up with you in college, and he was there every step of the way. He was there when you were sick, he was there when your favorite auntie died, he was there when you were panicking before your first job interview, he was there. You just couldn't wrap your mind around the fact that someone would call a man like that a commitment phobe or break up with him.
And what he said was true in some way, Jeonghan never broke up with anyone, he was always the one who was dumped and weirdly okay with it. Every time you talked about someone who didn't know Jeonghan you always painted him as the perfect guy, and it was true - he had a great job and his bank account was crazy even though he worked to the capital devil, he was someone who ha they shit together too, he helped his parent, he helped his friend, his house was never messy.
Every time you broke up with someone you talked about how you wanted a guy just like Jeonghan, nice and fun, but also low maintenance in a way, someone you could just comfortable be being with, without having to try too hard and do too much. And every time you met someone new, you always trusted Jeonghan's opinion, if he vetoed someone he had his reasons, like the weird guy that two months later was on the news because he emptied someone's bank account because they let their bank account info saved on the computer or something like that.
If you thought about it - really being married to Jeonghan was not even close to the worst thing that happened to you. Founding a dead rat once in the subway was worse, or that time when you found out that your roommate left the door open for weeks before you just never went to sleep before her just so you could make sure to close the door, and 95% of the time she didn't close the fucking door, that was worse than being married to Jeonghan.
“The fuck?” Jeonghan groans.
“What?”
“Apparently I messaged my account manager our marriage certificate asking if he could officialize the house-buying proposal, and apparently the bank green flaged it? The owner needs to accept the proposal of course, and it may take a while but-" Jeonghan stops halfway, almost like zooming out, staring at the wall ahead of him.
“I guess you are soon to be a house owner?” You question bringing Jeonghan back to reality.
“No, no-"
“Seriously if it is something that is helping you I don't mind, we can come back to Vegas a few weeks after the deal to annul it I looked up online it is not that hard we just need the documentation and the wedding certificate so," and it was true - you did research how to deal with the whole thing, it seemed easy, maybe that's why they actually let people marry crazy drunk, so they can pay to annul it and the city double the revenue, apparently crazy amount of drinking and casinos were not paying the bill.
“About that,” Jeonghan says, his hands tugging the sides of his hair.
“About what?” You ask.
"The wedding certificate,” he says, finally looking at you, his eyes big and still puffy because of his nap, “I think, I mean- I am pretty sure it is shredded with the receipt and invoice."
“What the fuck Jeonghan?” You shout, oh man, you are going to kill this man. The image is already on your head - jumping on that very same bed like a crazy woman and kicking him before you just kill him with your bare hands.
“I know,” he says almost in a grunt, laying down like a starfish.
“Why did you shred everything up for god's sake," you say almost stopping on the floor.
“I don't know okay?" Jeonghan says, sitting on the bed now, his cellphone forgotten, "Why did we marry? Can you answer that?”
“OOh," you huff, "We did get married, but I am soon to be a window if I don't kill in the next five minutes I swear to god”
“Wait, what changed if it is helping me?” Jeonghan says, back to his mischievous self, with a small smile across his face almost finding endearing the way that you try to threaten his life.
“You are making everything argh-” You are losing your damn mind and if you end up crazy it is Jeonghan's fault, now that he is indeed your husband has another tingle to you like a thriller movie, but you are afraid you are in your own Cameron Diaz Ashton Kutcher low budget 00's movie. Maybe you should take the whole thriller movie, it seems, weirdly, less weird. "First we cannot return this ring now I have to find someone who wants to buy it without documentation so everyone will think this shit is totally fake, I mean I would too, don't get me wrong I wouldn't trust myself either with this jewelry," you go off - almost missing the point, rambling really, before you get back to the point, "now we need to find a second copy of this certificate I swear to god we could just go to the nearest courtroom and annul the wedding I googled it."
"I already told you you can keep the ring," Jeonghan says - voice low in contrast to your high-pitched complaints.
"Why would I keep this ring Jeonghan?" You question, it sounds weird in your own ears.
The truth is, you did love the ring, it is a beautiful ring but the truth is - you can't keep it. It shouldn't be yours to keep. It should go to someone Jeonghan wants to actually marry, even though you can't bring yourself to take it off your finger, even though you didn't even try to take it off after this morning.
And a breath almost gets locked in your throat. Why? You think, and deep down you know you have your answer but you just shove everything down when you hear Jeonghan's voice, "Well If you sell it I won't take the money."
"I can just pour it into my savings accounts," you say petulantly.
"The fuck," Jeonghan bites back.
"What? You said you didn't want it so I can keep the money," You try your best to sound even close to someone somewhat rational in this matter.
"It is a present you can't sell a present," Jeonghan though, never has a problem looking like he is saying the most rational thing ever even when it doesn't make any sense.
"I totally can," you bite back trying to hold your ground just out of pure spite. He didn't accept that cursed ring which is not even supposed to be yours why the hell he is making such a big deal of you selling or throwing it in the sea?
"You can't," Jeonghan says again, and you think back to your friendship and a lot of times it was like that - a lot of things without proper explanations.
"Why not?" So you just hold your ground - again, he will not win this one, this time he will have to explain.
"Because it is a present I picked up for you. I actually thought about it, I mean before drinking buying apparently, but I thought it would suit you" Jeonghan says, "Just don't sell, if you don't want to use it okay fine but just, just don't sell it, don't hurt a man's pride like that,"
You want to try again - to say you will sell this damn ring if you go to the store and it can't be returned, and you want to say you will throw it on the nearest river because Las Vegas is indeed very far from the sea. You want to push him until he says okay I take the damn ring and I will hold onto it and pass it through generations. But when Jeonghan speaks and he sounds so tired and so hurt you just give up and lock yourself in the bathroom pretending to take a shower before leaving this hellhole of a place.
You look at yourself in the mirror and ask yourself how the hell everything happened in such a short amount of time. A marriage, a fight, a ring that makes you go crazy. Maybe you are closer to having a breakdown, maybe it is the time to face things that you are trying to keep hidden under the rug. You think that maybe it is time to just downpour everything.
But like always, you don't. You bottle everything up and pretend that everything is fine.
The last few days in Vegas have been less eventful, thanks God. Jeonghan and you go to weird restaurants and for a walk around the town, and you think about how you got married in the city of Sins.
At least it is fitting to think that pride and wrath have something to do with your own stay in this city.
You often think about Seungcheol, sending him and Seokmin a message or two, or a total of 15. Seokmin answers you, Seungcheol doesn't. And you need to hold yourself back when you type down a fuck you but don't send. You try to pry on Jeonghan's end too, but after the third time that he just doesn't answer you with words but just a cold stare you just let it go. Maybe that's why Seungcheol and Jeonghan have been friends for so long - pieces of the same cloth.
The flight back is not that tricky but at the same time when Jeonghan drops you out at your door, you are ready for a 30 minutes shower and drop dead for a whole week. When you open the door you are glad that your roommate at least remembered to close and lock the door. Character development you think, maybe she is getting better, maybe you don't need to actually move into Jeonghan's house as a safety precaution. But something doesn't seem quite right - there is a new sofa in the living room, which isn't exactly a problem, really, your sofa kinda sucked. But when you look again, you understand what is missing.
No, she didn't, she would not be that crazy. You refuse to believe that. You left all your luggage in the middle of the living room and ran to your bed, maybe she put the side table there, of course, maybe she just moved because the new sofa seems bigger. But there is nothing that resembles the side table in your room, so you try again - her room now, still nothing.
You send a message.
You try to call.
So you try the next best thing - call Jeonghan so he can calm you down. He doesn't pick up. You sit on the floor, right beside your luggage, and you refuse to sit down on that sofa, it is pretty it seems comfortable but now is the object that you hate the most. You would prefer, I don't know, to take part in a scientific experiment that might fuck up your brain function than sit down on that thing.
The concept of time and space is a funny thing you think when you lose count of how many minutes or hours you have been staring at the door, it has been probably a long time. Until your roommate opens the door with a big guy by her side, great, all that you needed was an audience for your lash out.
"Oh," she says, big guy with his big hands on her hips and he knows he is not getting laid today, because he sees you and he gets so upright he seems like a fucking power pole, "I didn't know you would be back today."
"Laurel, darling, where is my side table?" You ask without beating around the bush.
"Oh right," she says letting her keys on the counter without fucking locking the door you have never been closer to a have a fucking stroke, you can feel your blood pressure rising, "the sofa was a bit bigger, you know I told you I was thinking about changing and this was on discount, but the table didn't really had a place in the room anymore so I put on marketplace a cute girl come up to pick in the same day, great right?"
You blink once, twice, and the words don't even come, you are so astonished that you are left speechless. Maybe you could get over the unsaid desire of getting murdered by a serial killer, and maybe you could get over the leftover food on the counter, and you could even get over the whole singing in the shower when you are fucking tone-deaf really.
But that. That was one thing you could never get over.
"Are you fucking insane? Are you fucking crazy?" You ask, the big guy taking a step back, "Or do you just have fun being the most self-centered bitch in this part of the country?"
"What the fuck?" She says, and oh god, you want to jump on her bones, you want to leave this woman bald.
"Did you ask Laurel?" You ask again, remaining sitting on the floor because if you pick yourself up you are probably no longer be a first-time offender. "Did you ever think about asking if you could sell, give or even create a fucking bonfire with the wood of my deceased auntie's side table? Did you fucking asked?"
"Oh I didn't know," she says simply. You feel the tears streaming down your face and you don't actually know if it is because of sadness or anger.
"So funny Laurel because I don't even fucking know how you function like a human being because your brain is so fucking empty of common sense really," you bristled, finally getting up and picking up your big backup, "Look I don't know how I don't care really, it is up to you, but you get my table back in perfect state, and you will pay this month rent fully because I am not living with you I would prefer Satan as my roommate really, and you may as well find another roommate because I will not move a muscle to put someone inside this apartment," You say moving past Laurel and the crazy big guy, "and by the way Laurel? I would fucking lock the door today you don't really think about how many insane people leave in this world."
You say finally get out of the apartment.
You don't really stop walking because you are afraid you will just fall on the ground, crying in the middle of the street in the fetal position, not really a pretty picture. You know Jeonghan's house is not really far, a twenty minute walk. You wish you had an epiphany when you see yourself at his door, a moment to say 'wow why am I here?'. But you know yourself enough to know why, you know Jeonghan enough to know why you are at his door.
You know Jeonghan will open the door for you, and you hope deep down that he will hunt Laurel-the-sattan-spit-roommate down.
When Jeonghan opens the door, he looks puzzled, his face shows that he is trying to understand what is happening. You are sure he was ready to say that he didn't order something and to check on his neighbor.
"What happened?" Jeonghan asks when he sees you on his door instead of a lost delivery guy.
"Laurel," you say, and before having the chance to say anything else, you already feel the pain, you don't want to cry but you end up doing that nonetheless. You even hiccup once or twice before you feel Jeonghan's arms against you, enveloping you, making you feel safe.
"What did she do?" Jeonghan tries again, one of his hands still around you, while the other cradles your head, his hand softly stroking your head.
"She sold my side table," you say, still hiccuping your way through the sentence and you feel so fucking dumb, crying in Jeonghan's arms, and you feel Jeonghan's body goes completely rigid before he holds your face in his hands and you almost flinch because you cannot face that man in this state, and second, his hands are cold.
"She sold your side table?" He asks and you just nod, it is the only thing you can do, "The side table?" He tries again just to receive the same reaction, his hands wrap around you, but this time he hugs you tighter, your head smashed against his chest and somehow you find a resemblance of comfort.
Jeonghan takes you to the kitchen, and when you feel his arms release you, you just sink to the ground, your back to the cabinets. Jeonghan hands you a cup of water, and hugs you again, his hands rubbing your back like you are some kind of a toddler, and that alone makes you sniff even more. That motion alone takes you back to your college days when you went back home to your auntie's funeral - Jeonghan drove the whole way, and the only sound inside the car was you crying. Back then you didn't know that Jeonghan lost an important exam so he could drive you back home, later when he was pilled with an ungodly amount of work and told you he needed to do an extra project so he didn't fluke his class you cried all over again - part of it because you felt guilty, part of it was because it was Jeonghan, and you could count on him for anything.
And here he was, years later taking care of you again. You never doubt he would, that alone - the certainty that Jeonghan is in your life should scare you, but it never did. Not now, and not even back in college when Seungcheol joked about every time a new girl showed up alongside Jeonghan. Somehow you knew that Jeonghan would be there if you needed him, if you ever shouted that man would run leaps. The thing was, Jeonghan never told you anything remotely close to make you believe that, he never promised you anything, but Jeonghan actions always reassured you that no matter what, he would be there if you needed him the most.
You think about it how - weirdly - you were never in that position, how you never once was that person to Jeonghan, the person that reassure Jeonghan or be someone he could lean on. There is a deep down desire that you don't quite acknowledge over the years - that you want to be someone important to Jeonghan. Someone as important as Jeonghan is to you.
When you feel you can finally breathe you get out of Jeonghan's hold to go to the bathroom, in a way searching a way to escape your own feelings and thoughts, pretending you just need to wash your face. When you return to the kitchen, Jeonghan is in the same place, sitting on the floor staring at his own hands. Now, calmer, you take the whole scene of the kitchen; the single glass of wine on the counter, the open bottle, Jeonghan's cellphone, and his notebook.
“Were you drinking?” You ask after a while, sitting on his sides and copying his positions - legs stretched and back flushed against the cabinets. The hiccups are still there but they’re less frequent now, and you can finally breathe on your own.
“Yeah I was,” Jeonghan says, stretching his legs and looking at his feet cladded with old socks.
Jeonghan thinks about the minutes before you arrived, how he was just scrolling on his phone and drinking alone because his mood was so dreadful that he didn't want to make anyone suffer in his company. The only person he would subject to a vent session was Seungcheol, so drinking alone was the only answer. The truth is plain and simple really - Jeonghan has been feeling miserable for quite some time now, mainly because even though it pays extremely well his job sucks. He works for and with shitty people, but it pays well, so that should be enough - why it isn't? But all of that seems so fucking small against the feeling of you losing the last physical thing of someone you loved, someone who was so important to you.
“Why were you drinking alone Jeonghan?” You ask, giving his thigh little taps but still looking ahead - you see yourself in the mirror, you are so swollen you can't face the man like that.
“I,” Jeonghan ponders, thinking about if it is the right time to just go on a tangent about how he works sucks, how his best friend isn't talking to him, and how he wants to go back to his high schooler self and just start everything over, even if he fucks everything over is way better than this gray area that he is stuck on. “We can talk about me another time,”
“Just," You breathe deeply, your head almost knocking against the counter door, "do it for me then,” you tell him softly, almost pleading, “tell me so I can take my mind off this shit.”
“I think,” Jeonghan says, “no, scratch that,” he laughs dryly, “I am sure that I am fucking miserable,” he looks at you waiting for your reaction, “and I’ve been miserable for a while, I just fucking hate everything,”
“Han-” you try to say, and you almost feel like you don't have tears anymore, but if you could physically cry you would.
“I am not depressed, don’t worry, I just,” he trails off, “I hate that fucking job and if I have to spend another year there I would probably kill a rich guy, I have a few investments, and I have savings, and I-”
“You should buy the house,” You blurt out, remembering Jeonghan's eyes looking at the pictures of the house.
“What?” Jeonghan says almost choking on nothing.
“You should buy the house, just give me one room and I will pay rent, we can share utilities and food, and then you can quit,” you declared like it was something people just do on a whim, like you are not even having a stroke just thinking about the process of ending your lease contract, but the sky can open you are not sharing another day in that apartment.
“Not a great deal when I have a fucking loan on my name,” Jeonghan bemused, almost laughing at your non-sense.
“Just don’t tell the bank,” you shrug.
“Well,” Jeonghan says, almost like he is trying to assess the situation, see how everything could plan out from different angles.
“Come on, tell me,” You say finally caving into your curiosity, poking Jeonghan with your elbow.
“Tell you what?” Jeonghan asks but you can feel the playful tone in his voice, almost a childlike wonder of being caught doing something he shouldn't do.
“What is the plan?” You whisper - you don't know why but this whole thing seems like a secret, like something Jeonghan doesn't want to see the light of day yet, something he has been keeping under wraps.
“What plan?”
“I know you Jeonghan," You say finally looking at him, a small smile still stretched across his face, "I have known you for quite a while, come on, don’t underestimate me,”
“What are you talking about?” Jeonghan says playing the fool but the smile is still there, making you probe a little bit more.
“I know you, you would never think about quitting without a black plan besides having a few savings and weird investments, tell me,” You almost pleaded, turning your body to him, your hands on his thighs supporting your own weight on him. And you know you need to bring out the big guns - the begging eyes, almost laughing at yourself.
“Fuck,” Jeonghan laughs at you, his head tilting back and all, like you are the most amusing creature ever.
“Come on,” you urge, using your hands on his leg to almost shake him.
“It is not a plan, it is a desire,” he begins, “I’m thinking about sitting down and doing a few design classes, it can be online but,”
“No-” You say surprised, your smile big across your face because you know where this is going.
“Maybe,” he says still leaning on the counter, eyes closed and that infuriating smile still on.
“You can totally do it,” you tell him almost jumping on your place.
“It is not a plan yet,” he explains, in a vain attempt to make you tone down your excitement, but every time he looks at you he thinks he can give you that, soothe your pain with his dreams and hopes that won't really get out of paper. At least today he can do that for you.
“I can help you,” you say, finally changing positions and sitting almost by his feet, facing him, Jeonghan's hand on your ankle.
“How can you help me?” He asks you, squeezing your ankle and you pretend you are going to kick him, but he just holds your ankle and puts it on his lap.
“We can do it,” you say completely seriously because you truly believe he can do it, achieving his teenage dream job. “You know me, I am an army general, I have discipline, and I love a good worksheet, I am an editor,"
“What you being an editor has to do with it?” Jeonghan says while he tickles your feet, making you almost jerk.
"Stop that," you say using your other to nudge him, "I did a few children's books mind you,” you say, using your free hand to pinch Jeonghan's feet in the form of a threat, “I know how to promote things, I know how to deal with due dates and with manufacturers, you just need to sit down after lunch watch your boring ass class like a college student and hand your resignation letter,”
“It is not something that will actually work and be profitable,” Jeonghan huffs.
“Jeonghan, be honest with me,” you say, this time in a more serious tone.
“Okay,” He says, hands leaving your feet and closing together on his stomach.
“Would you ever take that leap with you couldn’t live till 90 years old with the money you have on the back?” You joke, breaking him in half, his laughter resonating in the kitchen.
“No?” He jokes back.
“We are doing it,” you say like his opinion in his own laugh and plans don't actually matter that much, but Jeonghan just smiles back at you - sometimes, he thinks about how you are the only one who can actually match his insanity, the only one that goes with his plan, or come up with even weird ones.
And Jeonghan knows he is fucked, because every time he thinks he can’t love you more you show him that love grows and expands beyond borders. Lately, Jeonghan favorite song is My Love Mine All Mine, and when he looks at you, in his kitchen, face still swollen and red from crying Mitski sings in his ear - Nothing in the world belongs to me But my love, mine, all mine Nothing in the world is mine for free But my love, mine, all mine, all mine. It resonates with him, the fact that his love for you is his to carry. And this alone makes Jeonghan happy in a weird way, because he knows how much love you deserve, and he is happy that he is the one that loves you, and he loves you for free.
Even though Jeonghan knows you don’t love him like he does love you he thinks about how you are the only person that is always there for him. Everyone that he knows would make Jeonghan just let it go. Why the fuck he would build a business around children’s toys? Why would he resign and leave a great career that gives enough money and intel to just go around and draw a few rabbits and frogs on a page? Just because of joy? Jeonghan always knew that joy alone could not make you survive on this earth.
But yet you were doing just that. Telling him to drop everything and just try to be happy. Right now Jeonghan could drop on his knee and ask you to marry him if you weren’t legally married and if he wasn’t a fucking coward. Sometimes he hates himself for that, the way he holds onto something he knows it is not quite enough but it is the only thing he can have.
Jeonghan thinks about- everything really, but mostly how joyful you are in your own way. How you would buy sweet treats just for the sake of it, how you had every single first copy of the books you worked on even if they were beaten in the process and almost unreadable. He thinks about the first time you showed up on his door, a big book in hands and a smile across your face, buzzing full of pride because it was your first fucking book and your boss give you one in the very first batch - back then you were just the one that did the toughest job, reviewing everything.
Jeonghan knows he loves you, he knows for quite a while.
Jeonghan knew before the first girlfriend dumped him because he was jealous of you. When his third girlfriend asked him if he liked you he couldn’t even lie, when his fifth girlfriend broke up and for the fifth time, the reason was you he just stopped trying dates altogether.
Jeonghan doesn't remember much of the marriage itself, he remembers bits and pieces of an Elton John in a 70's costume and how the chapel was way hotter, making Jeonghan's armpits wet, not a great look for a groom. But he remembers everything before that - in a less hazed lens. He remembers telling you in the hotel bar how he loved you for quite a while now, and how you looked so shocked - telling him he should quit lying. He swore on his first dog's grave, weirdly that made you believe him. He told you how he hated Mark - your college boyfriend that literature guy who gave you poems that you still keep as presents, he remembers you saying how you would keep every post-it note if Jeonghan wrote them in the future. It was a promise, you said holding your pinkie finger out for him. He remembers buying you the ring, you outside the store because he knew you would think that the chosen ring was too much, too big, too expensive, any ring will do it you told him before letting him inside, but he couldn't do it, he could only choose the prettiest ring for the prettiest girl.
Jeonghan remembers his vow, promising he would take care of you, that he would write love letters for the rest of his life on every special date because you hated presents. And Jeonghan remembers how you two kissed in the chapel, on the uber back to the hotel, in the hotel room - more than you should have, because now it is the only thing he can think about it and you don't fuck remember. Jeonghan thought about running, about changing cities and even country - investments were pretty much the same everywhere in the world really. But the reality was that even if he moved, his love was still his to keep, and he would do that heartedly. He was a coward, but he still had his pride, and if that was the price to pay, then, be It.
“Hey, come here,” He says, finally lifting himself off the ground.
“What?” You ask, looking at him still sitting on the floor.
“Come here,” He says again, giving his hands so you can get up.
“What? You are weird what is going on,” you say finally getting up on your feet.
“Come here,” Jeonghan says and before you approach him his arms are already by your side, enveloping you in a thigh hug. “Thank you,” he says softly, “thank you for everything really,”
“Are you drunk Yoon Jeonghan?” you ask, your own voice muffled by the tight embrace.
“No,” Jeonghan laughs, and you can feel his whole body move, “I’m serious, thank you for being there for me even when you have shit on your own to deal with,” He says, his chin on top of your head, “and thank you for not thinking I am a commitment phobic asshole.”
“You are still on that? I told you I never saw you like that stop being dumb."
“I know, I am just-” Jeonghan doesn't finish his sentence, his arms still around you, his heart beating by your ear.
“Look you are drunk, at least there is nothing much we can fuck up being drunk together after getting married in Vegas," you say and Jeonghan feels a pang, almost like when he stubs his little finger on the corner of random furniture, but he doesn't say anything, "give me a sip of your wine you asshole,” you say getting free of his embrace and holding the bottle of wine
“Come on! Don’t drink it straight from the bottle, there is a glass right there!” Jeonghan protested.
“Come on Yoon Jeonghan, I know you, I know you since you didn’t have enough cups in your first kitchen, don't play the proper guy with me,” you say like basic manners don't exist, and sitting on his counter.
“I grow up I am an adult now,” Jeonghan says, but he doesn't really move a muscle to pick another glass of wine for you, he thinks it is his biggest flaw - the fact that you can walk over him countless times and Yoon Jeonghan will just let you do whatever you want even if he pretends that it is against his will.
“Oh, totally,” You look at him, and even though the phrase itself has a bite to it your voice is honest, “Not to go back to sappy times, but you really did Hannie, you are really growing so much, and I am so proud of you,”
"Shhhh-” Jeonghan murmurs trying to shut you up and you know it is mainly because he is so fucking shy that you almost laugh.
“By the way,” You say taking another sip from the bottle. “I’m so moving in with you and I can even deal with only one room if you don’t sell any of my stuff.”
“Shut up,” Jeonghan says kissing the top of your head, “you can have the whole house, just don’t set it on fire.”
Ultimately, that actually happens.
You actually move with Jeonghan into his dream house. The house is 98% bare, without the furniture of the last owner besides the utilities. But a) it is better than living with your satan-spit roommate, b) Jeonghan has been sleeping on his own couch for over two weeks now because even though you say it is okay you can't spend that time in your own apartment he refuses to let you near Laurel.
But somehow, Jeonghan and you make a home out of the new house. You take the bookshelves on the left, all the books you edited in your lifetime on a special shelf right in your point of view. Jeonghan takes the bookshelves on the right, a lot of the books you edited and gifted him are scattered across it because he doesn’t really care about arranging his shelves in a particular order.
Every time Jeonghan sees a nice piece of furniture he sends you a picture of it, and you two chat about if it fits the room, and the colors would clash. In a weird way your collection of cups and mugs triples the size, indeed you are engrossed with buying new ones, but the thing is - you always pick two of them now. Jeonghan’s favorite is a weird bunny mug that you never actually use because it ears always make drinking anything impractical.
You two also build a weirdly oiled routine. You two eat breakfast together, Jeonghan wakes up early and when he is just arriving for his morning run you are already scrabbling eggs. When Jeonghan is ready for work you are ready for your own run. When Jeonghan arrives from work you still have one hour to go, so in the end he is the one to always cook dinner. After you two share the dishes and eat something sweet as the dessert the kitchen counter - previously used as a dinner table, now acts an officer table.
While Jeonghan looks up some designer classes, you search manufacturers. When he draws a cute rabbit girl that he named Ttoram, you try to understand how a business works, how you file taxes for it? Sometimes Jeonghan does the dirty work himself after he finishes a new version so you get your pink glittery pen and write in post-it what you think about the new product; ‘what is this material arrow-drawing pointing to a specific part of a squish toy’, ‘her head seems big are you sure she won't flop head first in someone’s bed?’, ‘are you sure? I think lamps are quite expensive.
The house gets filled with new art supplies, sometimes Jeonghan orders a bunch of them online, and sometimes you are the one that brings back a single pen or a new colored pencil that you pick up in arts stories every time you go to a meeting. The house is filled with paper and drawings, your favorite ones is always the first drafts - the ones that Jeonghan does on the non-quality paper, the ones that he does on pieces of paper, the ones that look less refined and to you are filled with children-like joy.
Another curious thing is how somehow you and Jeonghan seemed very addicted to post-it. Besides the practical use in the drawing drafts because Jeonghan was an old soul who couldn’t do his work on an Ipad like a normal human being in this day and age, you also used to communicate - ‘please buy eggs!’ you wrote and left on the kitchen door, ‘already set a reminder on my phone so i don’t forget to stop at the market!’ jeonghan replied. “Didn’t see u before I left :( don’t forget to take breaks” he wrote, somehow the post-it ended up in your office, and you glued it on the computer screen beside one green post-it with a frog with a raincoat on.
Every time the fridge was out of space for new ones you took them off one by one, with a smile on your face, and kept them in a box, safely stored. You always noticed one or two missing but you always thought the wind knocked them out and Jeonghan, that traitor, threw them in the garbage. In short, everything stayed the same with a daily dose of domestic life. The problem was - that it didn’t stay the same for very long.
And as hard as it was to admit, it was your fault.
There was no way around it.
It weirdly began every time you saw Jeonghan around the stove. The fact that Jeonghan was beautiful-handsome-pretty was not news to you. You, and every human being that laid eyes on him, always reached the point where you acknowledged how pretty Jeonghan was. In college it was a fucking nightmare, guys and girls banging on his dorm room when you two were watching a movie just because they thought Jeonghan was alone - the fact that he didn’t have a roommate because he bribed someone (one of the most Jeonghan acts that you ever witnessed, but that was beside the point - really) only added to the fact that 87% of his course thought he was down to bang anytime. The truth was that you always knew that Jeonghan was someone objectively good-looking, but there was a catch, even though Jeonghan was beautiful you didn’t really feel attracted to him and he knew that. Countless times you told him he was too pretty for his own good along with the lines that he wasn’t your type, ‘what the fuck that supposed to mean’ he answered the first time you said that, back in high school. With time it turned out to be your standard answer to every girl that was attracted to him and wanted a shot with him but somehow thought he was your boyfriend.
You know that Jeonghan is good-looking, and you know that for fucking years so why are you going a little insane every time you get in the kitchen and the man is cutting some onions? Truly it happens in the weirdest hours, out of nowhere, your brain reminds you how hot Jeonghan is - and that is even scarier because you knew that the man was handsome, but hot? That’s a new development. Once he arrived from his morning run, his hair a little damp, sweat dripping down his neck, and only with a thigh shirt because he already removed his go-to wind-breaker and you almost collapsed on the kitchen floor. That alone was mind-blowing.
The horrors begin when you just couldn’t deal with his touch without your mind going to the fucking gutter. When he touched your hips to make your move because he wanted to open a drawer, or when he dropped down on the sofa without leaving space between your bodies, his hand tapping your thigh. Out of nowhere, you are combusting because his hand feels hot against your skin, goosebumps appearing across your skin Jeonghan asks you if you are cold. And the fact that Jeonghan is touching you isn't necessarily super weird, he always did that, but somehow you feel that his touches changed and you can't quite pinpoint how besides the fact that you are reacting differently.
It doesn't really help your case that Jeonghan develops a weird habit of wrapping his arm around your neck. It happens everywhere, even in public and every time you can feel yourself grow a little hotter. You were supposed to pay attention to Minghao’s new paintings, a designer slash illustrator slash painter whom you worked with for a few book covers, and somehow in the middle of the opening of his new exposition, you can’t even think about the impasto on his oil paintings because Jeonghan hands feels heavy on your neck, his fingers touching the lateral of it almost rubbing. Every time you take a step to try to see the paintings up close Jeonghan doesn’t let you leave his hold, his body close enough to be pressed against your back, half of your back feeling hot because of his presence, half of it feeling cold because of his absence.
“Hao!” You say when you finally see the man of the hour, black hair on black coats, his hands behind his back looking around all the people that came just to appreciate his work.
“Hey,” He says opening his arms for you.
“Congratulations,” you say feeling the arms of Minghao around your back, your body though prefer to pay attention to the weight of Jeonghan’s eyes on you, “everything is mind blowing,” you say to the man - his hands still on your body, yours on his shoulder, until you hear Jeonghan clearing his throat in order to get you to notice his existence, and you almost laugh, “Hao this is Jeonghan, Jeonghan this is Minghao.”
“Great job man,” Jeonghan says in a weird tone, giving Minghao two little pats on the back and taking a step by your side, his hand on your waist.
“Thank you,” Minghao says politely, like he always does, “It is a pleasure to meet you, you are in the book industry too?” Minghao asks with his hands in his pocket,
“No,” Jeonghan almost scoffs, him? and books? God forbid, “I work with investment these type of things,”
“Oh, so you are not in the art business then,” Minghao acknowledges and you know his interest peaked even though you don't know why, maybe because you know Jeonghan so well you don't have much to unfold, while Minghao just seems weirded out by the fact that you have a Wall Street dude by your side.
“Oh Hao you always flatter me when you include me in the art business,” you say jokingly, reminiscing one of the many conversations you had with Minghao over a bottle of wine.
“I told you," a sly smile across his face, "books are a matter of passion.”
“You did,” you say somewhat reminiscing of the talk you two had back then. It was after calling him up for his second cover, after a meeting where he made you go through the book's motifs and ideas so he could have a feeling of what he should focus on.
“You should come to the after party,” Minghao says, “we could catch up,”
“Yeah I don’t think we can,” Jeonghan says while he checks his watch, he knows the question wasn't directed to him, he isn't stupid and he has two eyes, but he also is a stubborn motherfucker and now he just wants to ruin Minghao's night, and he is not about to Banksy this place up with shredded art pieces - because he is afraid his bank account can't take the lawsuit. “I have a work meeting tomorrow morning” Jeonghan reminds you, his fingers still on your waist.
“Still,” Minghao says, looking puzzled by you two, “you can stay right?”
“I’m afraid I can’t,” you say sorry “Han is driving us back so-”
“Is your phone number still the same?” Minghao asks without dropping a beat, and Jeonghan can give him that, he doesn't know Minghao but the guy just doesn't quit - he knows a stubborn guy when he sees one.
“Yeah, I didn’t change, but if you need you can e-mail me and-” You say before someone calls Minghao, it is his opening after all, a guy in the suit makes a gesture to him when the three of you look to see who was the owner of the voice.
“Sorry, I have to go, but I will call you," He says before giving you a kiss on the cheeks and walking to the guy who just called him.
Jeonghan snorts, really, what was that? He shouldn't find it so funny but it is. He takes a step back, his hands leaving you, while he looks at the painting. You know he is just pretending to analyze everything.
“What?” You ask him - missing his hand on your waist, on your neck, missing his presence around you.
“Nothing,” he says shaking his head, he is biting back a smile - laughter really, and you want to know what it is so funny, you are curious about what is going on in his head.
“It can’t be nothing come on,” you press on, your hand on his shoulder in a way to get some sort of touch from him, to regain some sort of proximity.
“Just-” Jeonghan stops, in front of another painting, his hand going back to your waist, and at the same time you think you can finally breathe again, your breath feels trapped in your throat, making you swallow on nothing, “You didn’t tell me it was an opening night to your ex-fling," he says. Eyes almost tinkling under the light and you know where this is going.
“Hao isn’t my ex fling what are you talking about?” You pretend, trying to get out of this situation because you know somehow Jeonghan will pry on, and he knows how to push your buttons enough just so you can spill everything he wants to know.
“Not fling then," Jeonghan says, hand still on your waist when he starts walking around the gallery with you by his side, until another painting that he really doesn't really care about, "an one night stand.”
“He is a friend," almost rolling your eyes at him, "I told you, I know him because of work,”
“So you are telling me you guys didn’t fuck?” And even though his words my seem harsh his tone is still light - he was truly a jerk but why are you smiling at him?
“Jeonghan, what the fuck?” You yelped, making Jeonghan's sly smile appear again.
“What?” He asks eyes still on you when you pretend to pay attention to the orange painting in front of you.
“Keep your voice low,” you mouthed, “we didn’t fuck,” you tell him again, and it was the truth, but somehow Jeonghan knew how to read between your words.
“Well,” he began, still looking at you even when he tilted his head to the side, a sly smile still on his face like he could see through you like you couldn't keep anything under wraps, and you could feel the goosebumps on the nape of your neck, your whole body tingling, “I am pretty sure it wasn’t for lacking trying on his part.”
“It would be too messy,” you finally blurt it out.
“Ah of course," Jeonghan laughs again and it almost sounds bitter to you, "so he did try, it was after or before saying the book and passion line?”
“After,” you say, your time to laugh, even though you feel the heat on your skin, a crazy addition to new feels because you are not one to actually feel shy around Jeonghan.
“And you laid him down too gently,” he acknowledges, eyes moving through the room again. You follow his gaze, seeing Minghao watching the both of you across the room, you just greet him with a smile.
“What is that supposed to mean?” You ask him, pressing your body on his sides until his arms are back on you.
“Well," Jeonghan breathes, his eyes still rummaging around the room, "I know you can break a guy's heart but apparently you lost your touch with that one because he is still down to fuck.”
“Jeonghan!” You gasped, “No he isn’t you are seeing things like you always do.” You tell him, Jeonghan had this weird superpower that he tuned in college - he could tell a guy was somehow interested in you from miles away, the first few times you actually made a bet on it; fifteen dollars, to pay him for a meal, to go with him to a frat party that his friend Soonyoung was hosting. After the fifth time, you just learned that was better to trust his judgment on it.
“Oh yeah, it truly takes a mind reader to see a guy ogling you across the room and telling you to show up at the after party even tho you have a guy on your arm," Jeonghan almost scoffs, then he leans down, his mouth close to your ear, "truly, his intention was indeed to talk about the impasto or the lighting or the shadow of his hard-on,”
“Jeonghan” you accuse again slapping his arm playfully, laughing at his antics “If I trusted you my ego would be in the clouds because every walking human being apparently wants to fuck me according to you.”
“Not everyone but a great part of it, sure." He deadpans.
“Sure, apparently you are the only exception who else?”
“I’m not,” Jeonghan deadpans again, just shrugging. Because it is not actually something he tried to hide over the years, it is nothing something that he is ashamed of either. And he is pretty sure it is something you already know since college so he doesn't have to lie about it. Jeonghan might be a coward, but he isn't really a liar.
“What?”
“I tried to get in your pants my whole high school years," He says, his eyes still on the painting, or everything that catches his attention, his eyes are everywhere really but on you. "I just gave up after the few first months of college”
“What the hell?” You try again. Everything feels kind of abnormal in your head. The way that Jeonghan says those words - like he is saying that you two should buy soap the next time you both go do groceries, it freaks you out. How can he be so normal about all of that?
And how could you be so clueless? Everything shifts in your brain - like the earth just changed its axes. He never told you anything closer to this, you are sure of it. You never suspected that Jeonghan liked you back then, or scratch that, that he tried to get in your pants. It seems something so unreal that you are having a hard time wrapping your mind around it - around the idea of a teenager and younger Jeonghan wanting something from you that you never really saw happening.
“What the hell what?” Jeonghan stopped dead on his track, finally looking at you, “You didn’t know that?”
“Of course not,” you say exasperated.
“Oh, I thought you were laying me down gently too,” he added, in the most neutral tone possible, making your head spin a little.
“No, I had no idea,” and it is true. You remember everyone from college who thought you and Jeonghan were a couple back then, everyone who found it weird when you two answered that you were just friends. You remember Seokmin, and you think about Seungcheol's words in Vegas and everything is hazed, a little out of focus. “Why did you give up tho?” You ask him.
“I just,” he says still looking forward and avoiding your eyes like the plague, “I mean, besides the fact that you got into he is not my type phase I would never kiss that man, the fact that I tried for four years and it didn’t happen led me to believe that never would, so...”
“I needed to make clear to every girl that was falling and tripping over you that I was not your girlfriend, they were pretty sure we were high school sweethearts back then”
“I think everyone we know somehow ends up thinking we are in a relationship,” he says, “I mean, clearly not goth impasto guy because that would be crazy, hitting on a woman with her husband on her side but”
“You need to pick up your husband's game,” you say kidding, while walking around the gallery with him, “I was indeed mistaken to be a single woman today.”
“I should have bought a bigger ring,” Jeonghan groaned, making you laugh, weirdly you still have the big ring on your finger.
“That’s not the answer,” you groaned because the man truly had this weird obsession with this ring and big rocks. You could tell him over and over again how you didn’t care about the ring or the rocks and he still found a way to make sure you were wearing the ring.
“And what is? If I try to be more territorial within the touch department we would be in jail for public indecency,” Jeonghan says low on your ear, his voice mischievously, while his hand presses on your hips, “Should we just go to jail?” Jeonghan asks, his hands trying to go lower heading towards your butt.
“Jeonghan, don’t test me,” you say seriously, your hand holding his and bringing up on your body. Why the fuck didn’t Jeonghan behave like a proper human being? Why your heart is racing against your ribcage? Why you are enjoying this whole thing?
The whole night you can feel Jeonghan’s hand on you in some way, or on your lower back, your neck, fingers on your shoulder, making his presence known somehow. And every time you think you are starting to understand what happened - what Jeonghan said, what that meant, he touches you again and everything gets a bit hazed, taking you to the start again. Should you read into everything that he said to you? Would you be able to deal with it?
Those questions are still going around your brain in the car back home. Home, that alone was something that didn't make sense either. The air in the car is so thick that you think you can't breathe, the fact that Jeonghan's hand is splayed against your thigh doesn't help with the issue. The curiosity gets the best of you - you want to know all the unsaid things, you want to get under his skin and discover everything Jeonghan even wanted.
He doesn't move his hand, he doesn't stroke your skin, his hand is just there. Again, a reminder of some sort, and you almost laugh - silly of him to think that his presence could go unnoticed by you. Jeonghan has always been there on your mind, and lately even more. It makes your mouth go dry. The feeling is back on the pit of your stomach again. What if? You ask yourself, what would have happened if Jeonghan said those things back then? Would the present be different? Would that have washed away all the curiosity about Jeonghan?
Arriving home you go straight to the sofa and plop down in the middle seat, taking your time to take off your high heels, you don’t know why but you still buy pairs with ankle ties - the bane of your existence when it is three hours later and you have a thigh dress on, maybe that’s why you think you hate those types of event, even though you had a great time, saw a few friends and enjoyed the night with Jeonghan, you always ended up tired with a few blisters on your feet. You can hear Jeonghan’s footsteps around the house while you massage your feet and try to ease the tension.
You turn your body so you can stretch your legs on the sofa, the pain on your calves is killing you. You don’t even turn when you feel Jeonghan entering the room, his perfume and the sound of his slippers are enough to make his presence known. It was always like that? Did Jeonghan's presence always engulf you? Did it always make you unable to focus on anything else? Did it always make you question your own sanity? He sits down on the sofa, in the same direction as you, his legs around yours, his front pressed on your back and you hold yourself back because you almost whimper when you feel your body melting against his.
“You’re tense,” Jeonghan says his voice low, his hands pressing the knots on your shoulders.
“I am always tense and stressed out,” you say, and it is the truth. Jeonghan doesn’t need to know that for the last few weeks the fact that he is the number one reason. You almost rub yourself against him, feeling a little bit crazy and hot all over - oh no.
“Hm,” Jeonghan acknowledges. When his fingers close around your neck you almost jump on your seat, his thumbs traveling across the knots of your spine, and you are not strong enough to not whimper this time, “there’s a lot of things you could do to distress.”
“Like what? A guided meditation?” You joke, trying to get away with it, trying to downplay every reaction of your body.
“Fuck those apps,” he mutters under his breath, he is so close you can feel his breath against your nape.
“Yeah right there,” You say when his thumb presses down in a particular knock on your back.
“This one?” You just nod, don’t trust yourself enough to utter a word that doesn’t sound like a humiliated noise. Since when did you turn into a mess in Jeonghan’s hand? But you just accept your fate, feeling how soft your body feels against his. “Can I open this?” Jeonghan asks, his voice so low you barely hear, but he is so close to you that your ears catch his question.
And you still don’t trust yourself, so you nod again. Jeonghan drops the zipper of your dress and takes his time to gather your hair in his hands, and taking them out of his way, letting your locks rest on your shoulder. His fingertips trails the collar of your dress again, and you can feel the goosebumps across your skin and you know Jeonghan can see them as well.
You can feel the way that Jeonghan’s fingertips travel down your spine as he opens the zipper of your dress. And you close your arms around your chest, in order to maintain the dress in place because you can feel how loose the fabric feels against your body after the zip is down. But apparently, Jeonghan is not even close to satisfied because his fingers are tugging the straps of your dress down your arms.
Jeonghan’s fingertips are still on your skin, stroking your arms when you feel his lips against your shoulder. Before you can think about anything your own body reacts before you, giving space so Jeonghan can continue kissing the column of your neck. Everything feels a little surreal, a blur, you can't quite grasp-
Then, your cellphone starts to ring bringing you back to reality.
“Don’t pick up,” Jeonghan tells you, almost like a whisper against your ear, his hands still around your waist - but then your phone rings again and again and reality comes crashing again and again.
And you want to say that you are ok with almost being undressed on Jeonghan’s lap, that it is ok the way his thighs cage you, that it is ok how his hands feel hot against your body and how his lips feel against your neck. But your phone rings again and it must be important so you stretch yourself and try to find your phone inside your bag by feel. When you finally can reach the phone dies, and you can feel Jeonghan’s smile across your skin - like he just won. But before you can drop the phone you feel it ringing again, and when you pick up the big font appears on the screen ‘seungcheol is the best’. You can feel Jeonghan’s hand freeze against your body, the way he just goes rigid.
“Don’t pick up,” He says again but now something is different - his voice is not low.
“It must be something important,” you reasoned, because it is true. You have been trying to get a hold of Seungcheol since before leaving Vegas and yet the man didn't answer you once.
“Just-” Jeonghan tries, and you can feel his squeezing your shoulders again, almost in a silent plea.
“I haven’t talked to him since Vegas, it must be something important,” You say, your own hands going to his in an effort to show him that you understand what he is trying to say.
“Are you truly doing this right now?” Jeonghan asks and when you don't answer him he already knows.
You look at him but Jeonghan just gets up and off the sofa and leaves the room, in the end, you choose to just pick up your phone and answer it with a low “Hey cheol,” so low that Seungcheol asks if you were sleeping.
Seungcheol tells you he wants to meet, to talk about things. And you say yes because why not? You pick yourself up and close your dress. Before going to your room you stop at Jeonghan's door and before you lose all the courage that you have in your body you knock on the door, nothing, and you try again just to hear the sound of the shower across the room when you glue your ear against the door.
When you lie on your bed you don't really can close your eyes. You feel restless, your mind wavering, and you can't stop thinking about Jeonghan.
What would that mean?
If you took that leap would Jeonghan be there if everything fell apart? A shiver runs down your spine because it is the first that the answer would be a no. You ask yourself why now. What made Jeonghan change?
And you can't even look back anymore - you can't even think about your friendship with Jeonghan without it being tinted, his words echoing in your brain, "I just gave up". You play the whole conversation back in your head, almost like an old VHS tape - rewinding and pressing play, trying to see everything in another angle, rewinding, asking yourself what that meant, rewinding, thinking back, rewinding and pressing play - unfolding all the touches, and the times Jeonghan's hand lingered on your body.
You rewind until the sleep gets the best of you when it is already bright outside.
You wake up to the sound of your phone, Seungcheol calling you because he will run a little late, of course, you say while he just laughs because it is so clear that you were sleeping. When you run down the stairs, almost falling on it because your brain isn't functioning yet, you don't find Jeonghan anywhere. When you look at the fridge and there are no new notes, your heart breaks a little.
The coffee that Seungcheol chooses is pretty, and not very crowded, and even though Seungcheol is late is not a big deal, you use the time to go over a few manuscripts and spreadsheets with a cup of coffee on your side. Or at least you try to, but the truth is that you send Jeonghan a few messages and every time your phone pings you need to check if he is the one answering you - it isn't.
When Seungcheol arrives, you see him first, still from afar, his hair is shorter now. You almost laugh because that is definitely not a Seungcheol's choice, nor a haircut. His hair screamed his fiancée's name.
"Hey stranger," he says sitting across from you.
"Hey yourself," you greet him back, almost laughing at how awkward this whole thing is. Seungcheol and you walking around eggshells. Neither you nor Seungcheol wants to start talking about the whole elephant in the room - Yoon Jeonghan.
You ask him about the wedding preparation, it is going nice he says, he was late because he needed one last fit on his suit. His mother nagged over and over about how he shouldn't wear a navy blue suit, his future wife nagged about how it couldn't be black because the whole vibe of the afternoon wedding was different from a night wedding.
"I'm just happy that you guys worked everything out," Seungcheol says after a while, sipping on his coffee.
"Cheol," You try your heart already tugging on your inside.
"No really," he smiles at you, the way he always does - with a fondness you can't quite handle, like after all those years he still sees you like the kid you once were. Someone who didn't really have hold of her life and in a way, after all those years you feel like that again. "I did a lot of thinking," Seungcheol chuckles, "I think that I always have been envious of Jeonghan in a way," he breathes loudly, almost trying to gather up courage, "here I was, with my wedding date set up and still having doubts about how I feel and if I should go on with it." Seungcheol scratches her head almost like he is ashamed to tell you the truth, "And there is my friend, right? I think that the thing I always admired about Jeonghan was how consistent he was, you know me, in that way, we are alike right? We see shine things and we run towards them, a new project, a thing we like, don't even say anything about the golf gear I swear to god," he says abruptly making you laugh, and it was true in that sense you and Seungcheol were very much the same. "But Jeonghan is consistent, that man's mind is a fucking rock," Seungcheol says like a jab and you can understand why, "and yet he is more sure about you than I am about my fiancée really. And he has been sure for years, I still don't know what made him make a move-, he didn't talk to me prior to that, but I am truly happy that you guys figured it out, it took you long enough."
"I don't even know what to say," you breathe, looking at Seungcheol. You can't blurt out the words - physically unable to tell him. You think about what you should say, you should tell him -'we are not together', 'we didn't figure it out'. You want to tell the truth, you want to come clean, but you just can't. "But yeah, he has always been there for me" you laugh a little soulless. It is not a lie either, but it is not the whole truth, Yoon Jeonghan has always been there for you, but now all the other pieces of the puzzle are coming together. "I think the only thing that hurt him was you going on and on about his commitment issues or whatever.
"It's-" Seungcheol breathes, "it wasn't like that. I mean, sure, he can't commit to anyone who isn't you," he shrugs, "I think it was back when you were going out with that lit kid right? god" Seungcheol laughs, shaking his head like he just found a memory in his treasure box, "Jeonghan was so jealous back then," Seungcheol continues, reminiscing, "he would get furious every time that guy would give you a letter, a poem, anything really. I don't know how you didn't catch up on how much he hated that guy's gut if he dissed the poor kid."
"I just thought-" you stop to think about it, "I don't even know what I was thinking back then, but I never once thought it was because of jealousy, he was dating like 3 girls at the same time back then," you tell, felling the bittersweet taste on your mouth.
"Well," Seungcheol takes another sip, "you know Yoon Jeonghan, when he doesn't get what he wants he tends to fuck everything up and push himself to do shit just out of spite. His high school crush and love of his life found her first boyfriend, how do you think he would handle that? What he could do about that? Try to write poems better than Mark? He tried to believe they were all shitty, trying to forget you was the last thing he could do for himself, even that didn't actually work."
And you feel like you are about to go into overdrive.
It is one of your flaws really, you were never one who would react quickly - your brain always trying to assess and digest everything before being able to take a leap. The problem was that you needed to unpack more than ten years, to go through every file of your life with Jeonghan and try to find a new meaning, trying to find a clue, in search of something you don't know yet, but that could make you understand, or realize.
You spend the whole day feeling a weird taste in your mouth.
The thing is, you can't quite pinpoint what are you feeling, you can't really name it. It somehow resembles feeling betrayed, you think, that you have a cheating boyfriend and everyone knows his secret but nobody has the courage to tell you, and when you actually find out you are the last one to know.
You take your time walking around town and even figure out the longest route to Jeonghan's house.
Even that sounded weird rolling off your tongue.
You try again - picking random memories to try to see if you can find a hiding meaning somewhere, a clue, evidence of Jeonghan's feelings. A crush you could understand, something small like an affection with an expiration date you could understand. You could understand the curiosity that grew in the past month.
But Seungcheol's words didn't point to that, Seungcheol's words were actually pointing in the opposite direction of that.
And if you were being honest with yourself, that made you afraid.
“I talked with Seungcheol,” you blurt out when Jeonghan finally arrives.
“Yeah, we are not going there,” Jeonghan says seriously, without looking at you - avoiding you at every cost. It is a tell, a clue that he doesn't want to talk about it. You don't want either, if you could you would never go there again, but you need to, because living things like they are right now, messy and all over the place aren't working.
“Jeonghan,” you groan, “we need to talk about everything that happened in Vegas, his wedding is in a few weeks."
“I think you were there when he said I wasn't invited so I am not really following right now," Jeonghan says his voice stuffy because his head is inside the fridge in search of something, maybe he is just trying to not look at you.
"He told me you are not answering his calls," You tell him, and before Jeonghan says anything he just scoffs and closes the fridge door without taking anything out. He doesn't actually move, but he doesn't look at you either, his head is hanging off his shoulders, and you know Jeonghan so well that you know that nothing will make him move. You know you are not going to win, but yet you press it on, because you are tired of things being left unsaid, of Jeonghan bottling everything out and things ending up being your fault.
"Why are you being so fucking stubborn about this?" You ask watching Jeonghan just shake his head, "he is your best friend."
“Yeah like Seungcheol’s is flawless,” he bites back.
“Jeonghan this is not the point right now-" You start before he cuts you off.
“It is never the point right?” He asks you, finally looking at you, still holding his weight on the counter, "Is never the point, is never the right time, is never them it is always me fucking it up because it is Jeonghan he is not serious, he can take it, you guys can go on and on and god forbid if someone doesn't wanna take more bullshit from you."
“Come one don’t get angry with me,” you plead.
“Of course, right, I can't even get angry," Jeonghan says before he heads to walk out of the kitchen.
"Jeonghan," You almost beg making him stop and look at you, "we really need to talk about everything."
"Talk about everything or for you to be Seungcheol's spokesperson?" He says, and when you don't answer he completes, "Then no, we are not talking”
“Of course, because that will solve everything," you say almost groaning, "he is your best friend for god's sake, he still thinks we are in a somewhat relationship, he wants to talk to you, he feels guilty for being an asshole. He is sorry." You try almost stomping your feet at every word.
"Well, good for him," Jeonghan says like words don't have enough weight to make him care.
"Come on Jeonghan I'm trying here," you whine.
"Trying to do what exactly?" He asks, "Did you ever think about what actually happened since Vegas?" He says finally looking at you, and you feel even worse. He almost laughs when you don't answer. "Okay, I did, I spent every single second thinking about it and I am really fucking tired of thinking about it. I tried to put it through a different lens, I tried to put myself in other people's shoes, I tried to be reasonable and understand everyone, look I really did, and I did a great job understanding that you forgot the whole damn thing, of course, you can forget me telling you that I am head over hills for you sure, you can forget that you were the one who kissed me back then sure, of course it happens, I mean," Jeonghan scoffs, "I understand for years what is a few more months right?"
"Jeonghan-"
"No, let me finish this because somehow it will be my fault again so let me make everything clear," he says - back again looking at every corner around the kitchen but not laying an eye on you; "Seungcheol knows, he always knew about everything, he knows how many girlfriends gave me fucking ultimatum and I always choose you. He knows how many women broke up with me because they knew I was in love with you, sure, everyone in my fucking life knew but you - I understand that too sure," he stops, breathing loudly and you feel the lump around your throat way to thigh, "and he fucking knows that if I could I would've got over this sooner, so yeah, maybe I was too fucking sensitive when my friend act like I was a fucking coward who has commitment issues and would never do anything about it sure, it's my fault great, I can be responsible for that. I can take that sure, I can take Seungcheol, what I can't take is you playing dumb after last night, that I can't take it, and to be fair I don't want to, I don't have to, and you don't have a lot of excuses this time, I guess you remember right? And I think that time I made myself pretty clear so this time you must know right?"
You have been building your life around Jeonghan's for years. In a way, Jeonghan's life and yours were beautifully intricate, to the point that you weren't quite sure where one ended and one began. You think about how would your life be without Jeonghan's presence, and how would your future look like. And that scared the shit out of you.
"And that took you how many years Jeonghan?"
"Don't do that," he says and his voice feels almost small.
"Sure, I am sorry if I'm being fucking selfish right now, but you had your own time to think about everything, right? You have had years to come to your own terms? I'm freaking out here, do you think that's easy for me? Do you think it is easy to think about the aftermath if this goes wrong Jeonghan? Sure I understand that maybe that is your tipping point great, I understand that, but you are my friend and I don't fucking know how we will go on if we fuck everything up," you laugh, "I think we already passed that apparently."
"We didn't fuck it up," Jeonghan says, "Why can't you trust me for once?"
"I do," You say, and it is the truth, you trust Jeonghan with your life, "I do, I am just scared. You took your time to figure everything out, but every time I look back now I think about everything you didn't tell me,"
"I told you everything," Jeonghan says and you can almost feel his desperation, "I was sincere about everything,"
"Now you are just telling lies," you say laughing dryly.
"Sure I didn't tell you everything, but the things I haven't told you are small in comparison."
"The fact that you like me isn't small Jeonghan," you say, and it finally downs on you, that this - his feelings are a huge thing that you can't quite hide.
"What I am trying to say is-" Jeonghan says, finally taking steps and getting closer to you, "I will not go anywhere," you hear him - even though it feels like he is whispering, "even if we fuck up, even if this doesn't work out, I will not go anywhere, if that's what you are afraid of then you have nothing to be afraid. I won't go anywhere because that would kill me more than would hurt you, and even though everyone around me thinks I am a masochist I would prefer not to die."
"I would rather not hurt you," you say and you feel like you could cry, "I am sorry if I ever did."
"You did," Jeonghan says, taking your hand, and holding it firmly like that act alone can show you how serious he is, "but nothing I couldn't take, even If you hurt me again, I can take it, I will take it."
Even if both of you don't want to, things stay a little weird between the two of you for some time. Like both of you are back to being so conscious of each other presence that it is just weird to jump right back at it, or, actually, take a step in another direction. But things fall back into place - more because of Jeonghan’s attitude than yours. He is the one that calls you for dinner, and he is the one that hugs you when you enter the kitchen.
He is the one that is trying to make things not weird. And you love him for it, you just love him, heatedly.
And the thing is, you always loved Jeonghan, but somehow, this kind of love and appreciation feels new and it is so scary, it makes you realize how everything is so fragile. But, at the same time - it makes you curious, it makes you wonder, it makes you act first just to see Jeonghan’s reaction.
Like when Jeonghan’s is whining about something and how he wants to quit his work so bad and you just hug him - almost melting against his back, placing your chin against his should and you can see Jeonghan freeze for a few seconds before he starts to pay attention on the food again.
Or when you start to watch a movie together and Jeonghan just melts in your lap, falling asleep while your hand goes through his hair. The next day when you whine about it he sweats to God he didn't sleep, he was paying attention to the movie, if you want to he can say the whole movie plot and all.
When the first Ttoram prototype arrives you are so excited that when you both place the little bunny on the dinner table, when she flops down - face diving because her head is too big - you are so happy for him that you just hold his face and place a quick kiss on his lips. Jeonghan looking at you wide-eyed. You almost start to laugh before you mutter:
“I told you, her head is too big,” you say trying to place Ttoram upright again.
“It is her charm, her brain is so big that she is dumb,” He says his voice weirdly fond, hands on your body pulling you into him.
“Yoon Jeonghan,” You stare at him - that weird mischievous smile on his lips, “what is that supposed to mean?”
“You should be honored,” Jeonghan says, holding your face almost making you yelp because his hands are so freaking cold, “You are my muse after all.”
And you almost curse him. But the thing is Jeonghan is cute, so will let it pass.
The thing is most of the time you are giggling and kicking your feet at everything Jeonghan does - that crush is so weird because you used to be stronger than that, now you are just falling in all of his antics, and boy doesn't he love it.
He just says the weirdest things out of nowhere just so he can hear your laugh. He holds you every time he has a chance, just pulling you close to hug you. But his favorite part of this new thing is how movie night now is just the two of you starting a movie to just act like a horny teenager.
Jeonghan is always the one who initiates it in a way. Sometimes is just caressing your arm before you start kissing him and licking against his mouth. Sometimes he feels bold enough and places his hand under your hoodie. The details always change but he always ends up with a hard-on and feeling like his younger self.
And it is happening again, his cock is hard, and he can barely hear the movie that is playing on the tv because you are kissing him and he can feel himself melting against the bed, like his whole body is going limp.
It is stronger than him, really. He wants to stay calm and collected but before he knows it he is already a whimpering mess, fingers digging in on your waist, his hips moving on their own, searching for some kind of pressure.
It is such a weird feeling, feeling so boneless and yet, feeling like he is a string - being pulled thigh enough he is about to snap at any minute.
When you break the kiss Jeonghan almost whines but before he can say anything you are already kissing his jaw so he just breathes loudly - accepting everything you want to give him.
“Can I suck you off?” You ask low on Jeonghan’s ears and he almost drop dead right there, like a fucking high schooler, like a teenager who just cum on his pant and drop dead when see a woman naked. And that would be fucking humiliating. He waited for so long he can't just burst a fucking nut in his own pants.
Jeonghan wants to answer you, he wants to say yes and maybe even mutter a please and thank you but somehow his brain is not even working properly, he is beyond dumb. But his dick is hard against his pants and he cannot even think properly - his brain is working overcapacity right now to try to take everything in.
So he does the only thing he can do in the moment - he pulls you into a kiss, and it is messy but Jeonghan doesn’t really care, focusing on the way you taste against his tongue. Jeonghan feels your cold hand against his stomach and he almost jumps at the spot, but you just whimper against his mouth when he does the same thing.
Jeonghan thinks the two of you are beyond niceties - you just told him you want his dick in your mouth, so he lets his desires win, while one of his hands is holding your waist under your shirt, the other one he uses to grope your ass. He squeezes your ass and at the same time, he tries to get your body even closer. You end up with your leg over him, across his hips, Jeonghan with his last functioning neuron takes the chance to shove his hand under your shorts too.
“Han,” you say when you come up for air, hand still splayed across Jeonghan’s body. “Come on,” you try again whining.
“Hm?” Jeonghan questions, his eyes almost closed and his head bent.
“You don’t want to?” You ask, voice low, taking the time that he uses to think about an answer to trail your lips across his neck, sucking at his skin, “I really want to but if you don't that's okay?”
“Hm?” Jeonghan mumbles - for a second he has no idea what are you talking about, his mind focused on how you feel against his hands, the weight of your body against him, how every curve of your body is pressed against his, how you smell and you taste.
“Suck you off,” you say again against his neck, almost petulantly like Jeonghan isn't paying attention, and he really isn't, but you shouldn't blame a man.
“Fuck,” he says almost whimpering.
Jeonghan was never like this - in his life nor in bed. He was never a mess, not to this point. Jeonghan always pretended to be somewhat collected, holding the strings of his life tight enough he could make his own choices, but it was never like that when the topic was you. So when the feeling pools on his belly, a reaction to how your fingers feel against his throat, taking matters into your hands when you grab Jeonghan's chin and maneuver his face in an angle so you can have access to more of his skin.
Jeonghan thinks he can die like this - almost dry-humping your leg. But apparently, you have other plans, your hand tugging at his joggers. Jeonghan's only reaction is to lift his hips, trying to help. It doesn't help much, but it is enough for you to shove your hands under his underwear, making Jeonghan shiver. When your hand finally finds his dick he almost melts, the tip of your things trying to map out everything before you apply pressure on it. He moans softly before closing his eyes.
He wants to be patient and wants to take whatever you give him, but the truth is he can't quite hold back anymore. His hands left your body so he can get hold of your face, kissing you. "Want to see you," he tells you, using all his strength to take one of the straps of your pajamas down. Kissing your shoulders, trying to map your collarbones with his mouth.
When Jeonghan tries to move the strap down your arm you don't budge, shaking your head telling him no, "don't want to stop touching you," and Jeonghan almost short circuit when your hand wraps around him and give his dick a few tugs.
"I know baby," Jeonghan coos, almost delirious out of his mind, his hand holds your wrist and takes out of his cock and the way that you just whine makes him even more desperate. His whole body is limp, almost melting. Jeonghan thinks he might die if he doesn't get naked, but he is too entertained with the view of your boobs in his face.
He knows there is an easier way to do this but fuck it, he is not in his right mind. Instead of taking out your flimsy excuse of a pajama Jeonghan just shoves It down, tugging at the end of the fabric while he kisses your chest. The way that you hold his head is so delicate that makes Jeonghan feel weirdly treasured even if he is completely debauched lapping at your skin. And Jeonghan takes his time, appreciating every inch of your skin
He could spend hours like this, he thinks - almost melting against you, kissing your chest lazily. He drags his tongue across your skin until he can reach your nipple, his hands come up your body until he can grab your boob so he can angle just right before his mouth is back to your body. Jeonghan thinks he can die like that, it would be a good way to go - your fucking tits on his face, your body pressed on his, his hard-on against your thigh, everything feels dizzy. When you shove your chest on Jeonghan's face, holding his face against you, he just takes it because he is so down and so horny that taking it is the only thing he can do.
"Hannie," you call and Jeonghan really just has enough strength to look up at you, without his mouth leaving your chest, "Just let me-" you try to say without much control of your own situation.
It is not like you are in your right mind either. Jeonghan's hands feels warm on your skin, and he holds you so tight that you think about the aftermath of his grip - you should make a mental note to check for marks after this, and that alone makes you tremble. You can only think about how Jeonghan's body feels against yours, how his mouth is still on you, and you want to cry because it is just so good but not enough. You feel you might cry. Or worse, die.
You press Jeonghan down until his back is pressed down on the mattress. And God he is so pretty, it makes you almost feel delirious.
When you sit down on Jeonghan's hips he feels like he is almost dying. Everyone he ever wanted felting very pale in comparison when he lay his eyes on you - hair already a mess, lips red from kissing him, flimsy shirt pooling at your waist. Your hands sneak under his shirt, and he almost laughs, damn he must be looking so dumb right now - feeling and behaving like a fucking virgin while his crush is on his lap, taking her time with him. You lift Jeonghan's shirt, dragging your hands underneath it, almost whining and frustrated when the shirt doesn't stay around his neck. Cute - he thinks, when you pout Jeonghan realizes he said that out loud.
"Just take it off," you whine again, tugging at his shirt.
Jeonghan just nods, holding your hips for leverage until he is sitting upright, holding the back of his shirt and taking it off in record time, before Jeonghan lies down again he feels your hand on his chin, holding him so you can kiss him again. Damn, he is lucky. But before he can think another thought you are pushing him back on the bad again, his hand on your hips.
Your hands travel on his body, caressing him - making him feel so close to losing his mind it is almost ridiculous. When Jeonghan's feels your fingers graze his neck he feels almost delirious, when your hand palms his chest and your digits press against his nipples it Is his time to whine, he almost feels like it is just too much, maybe he is closer than a step away from coming in his pants.
One of your hands is splayed against Jeonghan's stomach when the other one tugs the waistline of his pants, pulling the elastic band and letting it hit against Jeonghan's skin. You shuffle around his hips, sitting on his thighs now and Jeonghan is ready to complain when you tug on his pants again, this time actually getting the cloth to move and get it stopped by Jeonghan's hard-on.
"Baby," Jeonghan mumbles, "that's too much," he tries again, but apparently there is nothing he can say to make you stop - and in all honestly he doesn't want you to.
Jeonghan thinks he will die if he doesn’t get his dick free. Even though he doesn’t want to he takes the hand off your ass so he can take down his joggers, shoving his underwear down at the same time, his other hand still firm on your waist.
When your fingers close against Jeonghan’s shaft he almost sees stars. You give him a few experimental tugs. He feels so breathless, how is that even possible?
You almost scoff, looking at how even his dick is pretty - really, you should complain because it is so unfair. You press your finger on his slit, collecting the drop of precum, and the way that his dick twitch it makes your mouth water, but before you can even complete your thoughts Jeonghan’s hand is holding your face and bringing it down to another kiss.
If it was up to Jeonghan he would kiss you the whole night, but you had other ideas, using one hand to shove him until he is lying again when the other one is still on his dick. He is pretty sure he can feel your taste against your mouth but yet he feels parched. When you start to press kisses on his body, the only thing Jeonghan can do is take it.
Jeonghan thinks you want to wreck him. He feels you press your lips against his nipples, his hips buckling on its own, and you stroke his dick a little bit harder. Jeonghan can barely breathe, yet, without wasting a second you are doing it again - pressing your lips to his other nipple and licking it.
Before he can even wrap his mind around that you start to lick his belly and Jeonghan almost sees stars. He just feels everything, and apparently, your tongue dragging against his skin goes straight to his dick. Jeonghan doesn't know how, but he lifts himself up on his elbows, the view alone could make him cum - you still kissing him, lips on his hips, pressing Jeonghan's dick against his tummy, fingers rubbing his frenulum and he is just so sensitive that he groans before he can hold your hand making you stop.
"Too sensitive?" You ask and why the fuck do you sound so out of it when Jeonghan is being pulled and pushed around the edge?
"A little," Jeonghan answers breathlessly, his tongue dry against his mouth.
"Ok, noted," you say before doing something even worse - placing your lips on the same place before kissing the tip of his dick.
You wrap your lips around Jeonghan can't really control himself, he just pushes his hips slightly so you can take more of him, and god when you moan around him almost makes Jeonghan forget every trace of decency and good bed etiquette. But damn you just look so beautiful sucking his dick, one of your hands digging on his thigh and the other one still wrapped around his dick that it is physically impossible to not thrust his hips up.
"God," Jeonghan says and he sounds so defeated against his own ears, "fuck, you are so pretty," he tries again, looking at you and when he sees you looking up at him, eyes almost twinkling with the praise. And his mind almost snaps - oh, you felt that didn't you? The joy of discovering something every time Jeonghan's hips snapped. He gets it now. It is almost like a power trip. "So pretty, taking my cock," Jeonghan tries again and he almost can feel your moan against his dick before he can hear it.
Every word that Jeonghan mutters makes you take more of his dick into your mouth until he is hitting the back of your throat, god and how he can take that? Your lips around him, your tongue dancing around his dick, the hollowing of yours checks each time you suck him. He is delirious and out of his mind. He tries his best, he really does, but his hips have a mind of its own, and before he knows it he is thrusting up again making you gag around him.
Then your mouth leaves his dick and Jeonghan feels like he is about to collapse, everything just feels so much - the sound, the spit trail, the way your breath is irregular, fanning against his skin - and yet the intensity of feeling nothing makes him mind spin a little bit.
"Come here," Jeonghan mutters trying to catch his own breath. You crawl up his body and Jeonghan can only focus on how messy you look, lips glossy and pink, and he can see the faintest trail of spit on the corner of your lips, he presses his lips there before he drags his fingers on your lips, "I let you suck my cock, can I fuck you now?"
"Please?" You ask back and Jeonghan can feel his dick twitching.
"How do you want me?" Jeonghan says tugging at the bottom of your shorts and he almost laughs when you just shove everything down at once - and he could laugh really, at your desperation but first, he is way worse than you, second you are so pretty that he can't wrap his mind around the fact that everything he conjured up in his mind every time he thought about you when he was lazily stroking himself didn't do you justice.
"You can stay like that," you say, and before Jeonghan can mutter an answer you are already placing your knees on the sides of his hips, his hands automatically going to your waist, his mouth pressing against your collar bones.
One of your hands goes to Jeonghan's jaw, just holding slightly, while the other one wraps around Jeonghan's dick again - and he swears he would say something but his mind goes completely blank when you press your pussy on his dick. Your hips moving to make his cock disappear between your folds, making it drag against your clit, Jeonghan can feel how wet you are and god everything just feels so hot - he feels tight all over, like his muscles are contracting, even the ones he didn't know he had.
"Are you getting off like this?" Jeonghan questions and his only answer is a whine and your hips buckling against him, "Come on baby," Jeonghan tries again, hand now holding your hip, guiding your movements, "I can-" Jeonghan breathes, he doesn't want to say it but, "If you keep going like that, pussy so pretty against my cock, I will cum before I-"
"God," you groan against his shoulder, "can you really?"
"Yeah," Jeonghan almost laugh, his hand grabbing your ass. Of course, he can, he could've come already, but he is dragging this off, he is holding himself back. "Babe," Jeonghan calls you, mouth hot against your neck, "I could've come on your mouth, I'm so hard it is almost painful,"
"Can we-" You almost hiccup, "can we like that" you mumble again, "you can fuck me later," you say and Jeonghan almost sees white.
God, he could cum like that this wasn't even a question, the question was could you? The fact that you were over the edge like him was enough to drive him crazy.
Every time you drag your hips against him Jeonghan's let out a little moan, and he feels so wrecked that he just plants his lips on your neck, sucking at your skin. Jeonghan does not know if it is a reaction or is just because he is losing his mind but he can tell you are getting faster, the rhythm getting a little off, the way you breathe against him, everything just seems too much, and Jeonghan can't take it anymore.
The world stops spinning for a bit - everything just stays still.
Jeonghan is out of it until the sound of your breath brings him back. You are almost pouting. "Did you?" Jeonghan asks, himself breathless too.
"No," You whine and you feel so frustrated that Jeonghan pities you a little bit.
"It's okay," he says - because it is he will take care of it, it's not a problem.
But when Jeonghan looks down he almost cums again. It is so messy. Why there is so much cum? God, he blinks at the view - trying to take everything but mainly you, hovering on his lap.
"Han," You call and Jeonghan is brought back to reality.
"Yeah, yeah, sorry," he says, and it is not like he is in control anymore, his mind Is just gone, he just drops his hand - scooping his own cum and placing it own your pussy. You moan so loudly and Jeonghan can feel your desperation, pressing his digits more firmly against your clit, "Like that?" He questions and you can only nod your head, words falling. Jeonghan holds you close to him, your chest against his, your hand still going between your legs, his other hand holding your waits, "Fuck how can you be so hot," he starts going making you feel a light-headed, "I will eat you later okay?" Jeonghan says, "Don't worry, I will eat you out and I will let you fuck me, you just need to tell me what you need."
"Just," You hiccup, "Just like that."
Jeonghan listens to you, even though the position is not the best to his wrist and he could do so much better - but you just keep babbling on and on about how you are almost there, how he just needs to stay like that, how you are feeling so good that he listens to you, how could he not when you are almost coming undone against his fingers?
And then you bring Jeonghan's face up to a kiss, his mind was too focused on his fingers disappearing against your folds to catch on earlier, but you don't seem to mind when you lick against his mouth and finally cum. Jeonghan holds you against his body for a few seconds when he finally hears you groan.
"God I am so sticky," you complain and he finally laughs.
Jeonghan though, keeps his promise and he eats you out after that, and he fucks you too, and then, he just forgets he has his own room.
It is weird how much you two fit each other. And how seamlessly you two turn into boyfriend-girlfriend situations, or legally, husband-wife, but who cares about silly papers really?
Everything is normal really - Jeonghan keeps saying he need just a better Ttoram version before you two start promoting on social media. You two keep sharing dinners, and Jeonghan even makes a point about how the two of you need to go on a date. You bribe him, telling him he needs to call Cheol before the wedding - and he just shrugs and picks his phone up calling his best friend, you almost scream, it was that easy?
You two share everything, you don't know why but Jeonghan just chooses your bed to sleep in, you question him saying you want to sleep on his bed too - it just smells like you, is nice - he says before making a weird noise after face planting one of your pillows.
It comes to the point that you get weirded out when you wake up and he is not on your bed. When you pick yourself up and finally drag your body out of the bed - something weird happens, an unknown voice resonates in your house - okay not yours, Jeonghan's but...
You find Jeonghan in the kitchen, back facing you, sipping a cup of tea with another woman. A very gentle elderly lady, her hair is almost all white, and everything about her screams grandma. She sees you before you can say anything,
"Hi dear," even her voice is gentle.
"Han?" You ask when Jeonghan stares at you, eyes fondly taking up your sleepy self.
"Hey baby, come here," He says opening his arms, "come here Iris was talking about how she was visiting her third grandson can you believe that?"
You could, sure, everything about her screamed grandma in uppercase letters, but what was happening?
"Yes," the old lady answers, "where was I?" she claps before she picks back up again, "See like I was telling you, Aroon's mom is my youngest daughter, and her pregnancy hadn't been the easiest so that's why I couldn't bring the table back," she says and you neck almost snaps, looking at Jeonghan's, he is so proud of himself that you almost scream. "So I'm sorry dear, your husband told me how much it meant to you but I was out of town so-"
God, he looks so proud and so full of himself, he couldn't be happier right now. God, you are so deeply in love with him. You could marry him all over again.
[BONUS SCENE ONE - THE WEDDING}
“Are we doing this for real?” You ask and the world is kinda spinning a little bit, by your side, Jeonghan holds your hand. You both stare at this little chapel, the Elton John one because you said that you would prefer to be married with don't go breaking my heart, Tiny Dancer or even Berry and the Jets as a soundtrack than any of the Elvis’s songs and of course Jeonghan listened, he listened to everything you said. What a fucker, how could you not be in love with this guy? What? Wait-
“Of course, we are doing this, we made a bet,” Jeonghan says still staring at the chapel.
“Only because we made a bet,” you say looking at him. When Jeonghan turns his head to look at you something inside you sings a bit - like a doll with something in the inside broke and jiggling inside.
“Of course darling, only because we made a bet,” Jeonghan says, holding your hand firmly, he smiles at you, and out of nowhere he is running inside the building and you follow him around because why not?
It seemed like a fucking great idea, and you both did lose the bet, even though right now you can't really think straight - how does a bet work? Can both people lose a bet at the same time? You are not totally sure but you guess Jeonghan is right, it can happen.
[BONUS SCENE TWO - BIOGRAPHY]
When Jeonghan finally opens the hotel door you almost fall in the room, but before you fall face flat on the floor Jeonghan's hands save you from breaking your nose.
“Wow, what a gentlemanly husband I have,” You say, tapping his chest.
“Sure, sure, perfect husband material right here,” Jeonghan says pointing at himself the door still open.
“You are,” you gushed, hands on his shoulders searching for some kind of balance, using these high heels shows was so wrong, but you knew at least you would be pretty in your wedding pics, and in the end, that’s all that matters - the pictures for your own autobiography that you will make for your grandchildren. You always told Jeonghan that you would make one for him too, with every single thing he gave you as a safe keep and the collection of pictures you have of him in different times of his life. You have pictures of Jeonghan with his long hair, with his short hair, the time he died it was almost white because he thought it would be so so cool and ended up hating how it fucked up his scalp. You had the material, you had the story, and you could do his biography, the funny thing now it is that his grandchildren could be yours too.
“What are you laughing at?” Jeonghan says, kneeling at your feet and taking your shoes off, wow, a life-saver.
“I just thought about grandchildren,” you squealed in a high-pitched voice that you didn’t know you had until Jeonghan’s hand found your hips.
“Grandchildren?”He asks you softly.
“The biographies,” you say and Jeonghan nods, “I was thinking about how I always pictured us together when we were gray and old in a nursing home together all that jazz, but know that I thought about it, your family will be my family so the grandchild will be the same kids, I won’t do your biography for your grandchildren I will do your biography for my grandchildren as well that changes a lot of things,”
“Like what?” He asks amused
“I don’t know if I want to tell them about the time you were sure to have gonorrhea or something like that”
“I do think we can let this story die with us,”
“wait, now that I am thinking about it like we only have one family," You say, a pouting on your lips, and Jeonghan almost melts, "that means only one visit in the nursing home because like when our family as separate entities we would have two families so two visit yours and mine now that I think about it I think we should divorce
“We are not divorcing," Jeonghan says.
“We can annul It,” you try again.
“We won't do it,” Jeonghan says, shaking his head like you are talking nonsense.
“But two visits are better than one,” You say showing him your fingers and trying to make him understand that two are indeed better than one, boys like girls even sang about this, was Jeonghan dumb?
“I won't have a family if it isn't your family,” Jeonghan says plopping down on the bed.
“Of course you can have a family,” you are sure of it Jeonghan is amazing there is nothing stopping him.
“But I don't want to,” Jeonghan whines looking at you and you get it, you finally get it.
“Damn boy you are crazy about me,” you say laughing, laying on his side.
“Now you are catching up,” Jeonghan says while his arms close around you.
“Still think two is a bigger number”
[BONUS SCENE - SHOULD WE?]
Jeonghan, your husband of three years, is eating on the kitchen counter and you can almost hear the gears in his brain turning and twisting. Sometimes, you think that maybe, Jeonghan is like a toy that he built the week prior, if you pick him up and shake him around you can hear loose parts of him rattling inside of himself.
“What are you thinking about?” You ask while opening the fridge.
“Should we go to Vegas again?” He asks taking a bit of his breakfast.
“Vegas?” you say - your head peaking and your body stretched so you can face him while the fridge door is open.
“I was thinking we should renew our vows,” he says like he is thinking about buying lunch because he cannot bring himself to cook, “you know, I want you to actually remember our wedding.”
#Yoon Jeonghan fic#Yoon Jeonghan fanfic#Yoon Jeonghan imagines#Yoon Jeonghan smut#Jeonghan fic#Jeonghan fanfic#Jeonghan imagines#Jeonghan smut#Seventeen fanfic#Seventeen fic#Seventeen imagines#Seventeen smut#seventeen x reader#svt fic#svt fanfic#svt smut#svt imagines#t: writting#t: yoon jeonghan
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i'm obsesseeeed with dr. rem and i have a request for him if you're up for it!! <33 maybe reader gets into an "accident" (nothing serious) while working and remus finds out when he sees her in the hospital? like she didn't have time to call him and let him know so he suddenly just sees her and freaks out for a bit before realizing she's okay? thank you so muchhhh 💗
I'm obsessed with him toooo it's bad ! Thanks for requesting sweetheart <3
cw: minor head injury
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
Your eyes water, but you do your best to keep them open as the girl in scrubs points her light in each one.
“Your pupils look alright,” she decides, clicking the light off and giving you an apologetic smile when you blink in relief. “Have you felt nauseous at any point since it’s happened? Dizzy?”
You shake your head no to both, wincing a bit as the clear bag of ice you’re holding to the back shifts slightly.
“That’s good.” She nods encouragingly. She seems young and somewhat green, probably one of those pesky residents Remus is always griping about. Though she’s trying to project the same seasoned calm as the other doctors and nurses moving about the A&E, there’s a quiet anxiety about her that you recognize. It’s the same one you carried during the first month at your job, the possibility of getting in some kind of trouble seeming to loom over you constantly. She’s pretty, you think, and she seems nice. Like she genuinely cares, a massive improvement over the woman at the front desk who’d given you a look so judgemental that it’d made you feel even more embarrassed for being here. “And you’re sure you didn’t lose consciousness at any point? Even for a second?”
“I don’t think so,” you say. “I mean, I would have noticed, right?”
She squints like she’s not quite sure what to do with that, and then you perk up as a familiar rhythm gets your attention. You wouldn’t have guessed you could do it outside of your shared flat, but you pick out the sound of Remus’ footfalls a second before he comes into view. He’s striding briskly across the room, skimming something on his clipboard, and he gives the swath of curtained rooms little more than a cursory glance as he passes—until his eyes flare, snagging on you.
You raise your hand in a sorry wave.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, doubling his pace to get to you. His attention moves to the bag of ice you’re holding to your head. “You’re hurt?”
“I bumped my head at work,” you explain with a shrug. The resident looks between you like she’s unsure if she should continue, clearly outranked by the other doctor in your little room. “It’s not bad, but my boss said I had to come here.”
Remus’ lips tug downward, taking the ice from you and tilting your head so he can see it. “You hit your head and you didn’t call me?”
“It’s nothing,” you promise him. “My boss just made me come in as a formality. For liability reasons, you know?”
Remus remains uncomforted. He murmurs a quiet direction to the resident so the poor girl steps back from you. You shoot her an apologetic look as your boyfriend takes your head in both hands, prodding at the tender spot on the back. You wince, and he makes a very unprofessional cooing sound, stroking his thumb next to the nonexistent wound.
“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” Even his dubious tone is gentled for you, the pinch of his mouth more worried than vexed.
“It hurts,” you admit, “but only like any bruise would. It didn’t even break the skin, Rem, I’m totally fine.”
He looks at the resident. “Any symptoms of a concussion?”
“No,” the girl chirps nervously. You wonder that anyone could be nervous around Remus, but you suppose he is sort of like one of her bosses. “Pupils are normal, no dizziness or headaches, no reactions to light or noise, and no signs of confusion.”
He nods, still frowny. You think he could stand to show her some appreciation, but this may not be the time to bring it up. “Alright, you can go. I’ve got this one.”
“Thank you,” you say after her, and she flashes you a tiny smile before Remus eclipses your vision, taking your face in his hand.
“You were fully honest, right?” he asks you sternly. “Didn’t downplay anything?”
“I didn’t.” You summon your most placating tone, reaching up to wrap your fingers around his wrist. “I’m really fine.” You rub your thumb into his pulse point. “I’m sorry I didn’t call, everything was just moving so quickly. I wouldn’t have tried to keep it a secret or anything.”
Remus lets out a long exhale, leaning forward so that his nose rests on your forehead. “I know you wouldn’t,” he murmurs. “But do you have any idea how scary it is to see someone you love in A&E, where you work, when you thought they were just going about their day unharmed?”
Your heart contracts as the severity drains from his tone, replaced by a dull rawness. “I don’t.” You slide your touch up his arm to his bicep, squeezing gently. “I’m sorry. But I am unharmed, see? It’s all good.”
He grunts fondly, kissing your forehead as he straightens. “Who drove you here?”
“Marcus.” You’ll have to make your coworker some cookies or something as a thank-you gift, though you’re sure getting a half hour off work to chauffeur you here wasn’t an entirely unwelcome break.
“And where is he?”
“Back at work. He dropped me off.”
Remus brow puckers. “He left you here?”
“Well, it wasn’t like there was anything he could do,” you say, shrugging. You feel a bit sheepish, though you’re not sure why.
“Still.” His jaw ticks. “Okay, I get off in less than an hour. Do you think you can sit tight until then? I’ll have someone bring you some fresh ice.” He levels your sloshy bag of ice with a disapproving look you want nothing to do with. “And did you eat lunch before your shift?”
“I’m good, thanks,” you say. “But I don’t need you to drive me home, Rem. There’s a bus stop right outside of here.”
He scoffs. “I don’t care if you don’t have a concussion, I’m not letting you take the bus after you’ve just hit your head.” He squeezes your shoulder, thumb pressing into your collarbone. “I’ll have someone bring you a snack.”
“It’s just a bump,” you argue, but Remus ignores you.
“Try to leave, and I’ll be very cross with you,” he threatens as he walks away. “Cuddles are a privilege that can be revoked.”
#doctor!remus#doctor!remus lupin#doctor!remus x reader#doctor!remus x fem reader#remus lupin au#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin x self insert#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin fanfic#remus lupin fic#remus lupin hurt/comfort#remus lupin angst#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin scenario#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin oneshot#remus lupin one shot#marauders au#marauders#the marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fanfic#marauders fic#marauders fandom#hp marauders
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Cover Girl
modern!rockstar!Eddie Munson x Influencer!reader
cw: public nudity, topless photoshoot, album covers, implied smut at the end, pet names.
wc: 1.5k
A/N: I hope you enjoy this little one shot! The aesthetic for this is very much 'Ethel Cain' (sorry not sorry) and the 70s style wood paneling even though that has like very little to do with the fic? Anyway, I enjoyed writing this!!
...
You’ve done a lot of photoshoots in your life. Some for magazines, some for your social media, some for brands. So many that, at this point, you shouldn’t be this nervous.
This photoshoot is different.
This photoshoot is for Corroded Coffins album. The cover of the album to be exact, so you’re practically shitting yourself as your team finishes your makeup. Your team thought this would be an incredible opportunity and the rest of the band was more than excited. According to Eddie, it was their idea and they practically begged him to agree to it.
“Are you excited?” Your hair stylist asks you and she fixes your hair. It’s supposed to be… effortlessly messy. There is a very high chance no one will even see your hair but better to be safe than sorry.
You smile at her through the mirror, being careful not to disturb your makeup artist, “yes and no. We haven’t been together long so I’m just scared.”
Which was true.
You had this weird fear that if you and Eddie broke up during this albums era, it would be the end of your career. Your therapist, of course, reminded you how harmful that mindset could be. You agreed but it didn’t mean it didn’t chew at the back of your mind. The chances of that happening were extremely low, but there was still a chance. Then your voice is immortalized on his album along with your body and face on his album covers.
Eddie, to his credit, had reassured you that he didn’t care. Well, not that he didn’t care, he cares about you and your feelings. But the point is that, in his own words, even if you two didn't work out, it would be a reminder of you and, allegedly, he wants to remember you for the rest of his life. It calmed your fears slightly.
Your hairstylist finishes, spraying your hair with hairspray, “well, I think you’re the perfect fit for this cover. You are so beautiful that no one would ever regret putting you on their cover art.”
You smile, your throat getting a little tight at her words. “Thank you. Means a lot.”
…
You’re in little more than a pair of blue jeans, inside a house that looks like it’s stuck in the 70s. You haven’t seen carpet like this in a very long time. It makes you laugh a little, remembering your best friends house, her parents refused to upgrade it even though they totally could’ve.
You hold a rob to your chest, leaving your back exposed but keeping your chest covered for now. Eddie smiles when he sees you, “well don’t you look pretty.”
You feel your face and body go warm, “you’re sweet.”
He kisses your forehead, more than knowing that your makeup artist will beat his ass for ruining your lipstick. “I mean it.”
You smile shyly, shaking your head a little. You know he means it but no man has ever made you feel as wanted and appreciated as Eddie does. He tells you how pretty you are at least three times a day and he always makes sure to kiss you goodnight.
Needless to say, he was perfection in a human being.
“How do you want me?” You look up at him with big eyes, eyes that make his cock twitch in his pants. He needs to give your hair and makeup team a very large bonus because you look ever more fuckable than you typically do.
Eddie hands you his precious guitar, his baby. His hands shake slightly and you can tell he’s a little nervous of letting anyone but him handle this instrument. And he is nervous. This guitar has been with him through all the ups and downs of his life.
From leaving Hawkins to signing his first record deal, that guitar has been there. It’s a reminder of where he’s been and where he’s going. Is it super easy to break guitars? No. If you happen to drop it the worst that might happen is a scratch, maybe a dent.
But you knew better than that. You reach out, gripping the neck of the guitar tightly, Eddie also holding on. You drop the robe, previously agreeing to being topless but covered by the guitar. You put the strap over your shoulder, only letting the robe go when you have the guitar covering you.
Eddie let's go and you can tell he’s trying really hard to not look at your chest, to not make you uncomfortable in front of everyone. You’re more than comfortable with your nudity, especially around Eddie, but you appreciate the respect.
You grin up at him, “again, how do you want me?” You bat your lashes at him as you ask.
He takes a shuddering breath, “we-we were thinking of having you lay down, knees under you with the guitar covering your c-chest.” Eddie swallows, letting his eyes dip to your chest for only a moment before meeting your eyes again.
You lean up, kissing him sweetly, “absolutely baby.”
You head to the middle of the room, being careful not to flash everyone as you get to your knees. “Should we start with a few of me just on my knees?” You give Eddie big bedroom eyes as you ask.
He shifts foot to foot before the photographer answers, “actually that might be a good idea! Give us some options just in case.”
You smile and pose, making sure the guitar is covering your tits correctly. The camera flashes and you blink a little, trying to wipe away the new, green specks in front of your face. But you pull it together, moving and posing in all the ways you could.
“Okay, now lay back and keep your legs under you.”
You lay back, settling yourself on the scratchy carpet and letting your hair lay around you like a halo. You let your hand curl around the neck and the other resting on the body. The strap covers your breast, the body covering the other one.
If you asked Eddie, you looked like a fucking angel. Like a little rock goddess. Eddie hasn’t ever felt this way about anyone ever. He think you’re the most beautiful woman to ever exist, not to mention so fucking kind to every single person you ever come in contact with. Eddie wishes he could be more like you in that sense.
Isn’t there a saying that's like ‘opposites attract’? That’s what you and Eddie are, opposites, but it works more than he wanted to admit. Sure, deep down he has this horrible fear he’s going to fuck it up. He knows he probably should give you more credit than he is, but he’s terrified that one wrong move and that is it.
It’s how it usually went with the girls he dates.
But he knew you weren’t usual. In the good way of course. Eddie doesn’t really know why he knows, but he does. He knows the feelings he has for you run deep and ever since the string theory got brought up, he’s been feeling the tug more. It’s an emotion he doesn’t want to (and can’t) name. Eddie feels it’s just slightly too early and again he doesn’t want to scare you.
The photographer snaps photos of you from all angles, making sure to give the guys and Eddie plenty of options for the cover. They’d wanted the album cover to be simple and had confessed to Eddie that they thought you’d be perfect. They may or may not have confessed that they enjoy having you around and that they think you’re good for Eddie.
“Okay! We’re done! Great job Miss. Asher, you were beautiful as ever.” Eddie watches you smile, gripping the neck of the guitar so you don’t somehow drop it.
Eddie puts you out of your misery, handing you your robe and covering you so you can take the guitar off and slip the robe on. Once it’s settled around your shoulders he kisses the side of your head.
…
The photos and mock up of the cover come back a few weeks later. They’d all chosen the one of you on the floor, back arched slightly and not looking at the camera. You don’t know what filters they used but the photo looks old school. It looks like they took it on a disposable camera and you couldn’t love it anymore.
Eddie’s eyes get wide when he sees the finished product.
“God… this is so perfect.” He whispers it and you know he didn’t mean for you to hear it. But it’s sweet regardless.
You zoom in just a little, “god this is such a vibe and I am obsessed.”
He looks over, a big, beautiful grin on his face, “I’m glad you like it too. And um… thank you for all your help with this album.”
You smile softly, kissing him, “of course. Thank you for letting me be a part of it.”
He kisses you deeply, laying you back on the bed.
“Let me really thank you, yeah?”
You swallow, nodding, “I would love that. Always love the way you thank me.”
Eddie smirks, ducking below the covers and worshiping you till you can’t take it anymore.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson fic#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x you#stranger things fic#stranger things imagine#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fanfic#modern!rockerstar!eddie munson x influencer!fem!reader
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HEYYYY
Soo I'm here to rq another Damian x reader(platonic). But real quick, I'm sorry if I'm requesting too much or being a nuisance. Pls lmk if I am so I can stop! It's just hard to find somebody that writes for him like dis.
Anyways, basically the same thing were theyre friends but this time it's a diff scenario. So Damian n reader are obvi friends but theyre also complete oposites. Like Damian is intelegent, focused and meanwhile has reader is a bit dumber, daydreams too much, and kinder. They also get walked over a lot.
So he invites reader over to the manor and she meets his brothers n dad. It's all fine n dandy but they can't help but notice how diff they are.
Bonus points if reader talks positively abt him to his brothers and they're all like "fym he's nice?" And readers all like "fym he isnt?" (They're just not used to being treated like a normal human being) ‼️
Honestly I love writing for platonic! Damian. So pls don’t apologise for anything bc I’m having so much fun rn. 🦦plus I don’t know if this will read well as I’ve written this late at night when o should probably be in bed.
‘Am I seeing things or has Damian finally made a friend.’ Dick whispered to Jason, his eyes unable to tear his eyes away from you and Damian followed Bruce through the manor.
‘Nope, I’m definitely seeing it too.’ Jason replied also looking at you and Damian as if he was looking at the human personifications of night and day.
‘The fact that the demon spawn managed to get a friend sure is…something.’ Tim piped up, having overheard his brothers conversation from standing in between them. ‘I can only hope he didn’t kidnap the poor soul.’ Dick added as he was quick to click onto how Damian kept a hand on your arm, tugging and pulling you along when you stop to stare at a painting in awe for a little too long, gently encouraging you to keep up with him and Bruce by promising to go back to the painting later. Jason then looked over at Tim, ‘any ideas on who they are?’ Tim shrugged. ‘Only the fact that they go to the same school as Damian, share the same art classes and is known for being a little bit of a daydreaming pushover, but despite all that they’re still a kind person.’
Dick smiled sympathetically as his heart ached for you. It wasn’t easy being nice in a city like Gotham, if anything nice ever wandered into the accursed city it seemed as though Gotham itself would stop at nothing to see it destroyed, decimated and become as miserable and as bleak as the city itself; So it was rare to find someone who genuinely could still bring it in themselves to smile whilst in a city like this. And for that Dick had to give you props for being brave enough -and strong enough- to be kind in a place that would gladly take pleasure in stepping over and on you at any inconvenience. For it was truly a sign of bravery at its finest.
‘That kid is sure brave.’ Jason signed, knowing that people like you don’t last in Gotham but it was people like you that Gotham needed the most, but how could a retched place like Gotham heal when it’s always been a rotten city since it’s very conception? He didn’t believe it could be possible but there were always solutions to fighting the problem that seemed impossible to overcome. So who cares if you weren’t the brightest bulb at school? The education system in Gotham was shit anyway the last time he checked and he doubted much had changed when he…well you know…
Tim was silent. He was too busy recognising the protective measures that Damian was taking specifically for you; mainly the hand tugging at your arm anytime he thought you were getting distracted or wandering off elsewhere and muttering about how you need to keep or you’ll get left behind, despite the fact that even if you did Damian would allow himself to fall behind just so that he could walk besides you. While he might be part of the majority that didn’t think he’s ever see the day that Damian brought a friend home, never less a friend who was the total opposite of him. He couldn’t help but feel a sort of relief that Damian finally found a friend, and he knew that both Jason and Dick felt similarly from the looks upon their faces, silently observing how you interact with one another.
The one thing that Tim was confident in was the fact that Damian needed you as much as you needed Damian because you were a beacon of opportunity for his younger brother in many ways that Tim was certain you weren’t made aware of just yet. So while he and his brothers may tease and take this piss about how different you were from Damian, they mean well and express their happiness the only way they knew best; teasing and taking the piss.
‘This library is beautiful Mr Wayne! Do you have any fantasy books?’ You could be heard asking down the hallway, followed by the sound of Bruce softly laughing as he showed you the grand library. ‘This library has any book you can think of and please call me Bruce, it’s not often that Damian brings anyone home for the weekend.’ He says as you looked the Damian confused and a little betrayed. ‘You’ve got friends other than me?’
Damian groaned. ‘No. I don’t, you’re the only friend I’m willing myself to have.’
You smiled and gripped his hand. ‘Aww Dami! That’s so sweet of you to say, despite how brash and blunt you may come across, I’m glad to say that you’re the only friend I’m willing to have too!’ You said without shame. ‘Everyone else isn’t a nice as you are.’ You trailed off while a rare solemn look appeared upon your face as Damian was quick to squeeze your hand reassuringly, Bruce smiled sympathetically. ‘I’m not smart like your son mr Wayne, I can’t help it if things don’t come to me as easy as they do others but I try! I try really heard to do my best at every test but…but people tend to laugh of me because to them I’m either slow or thick.’ Damian’s jaw clenched and his brows furrowed upon being remembered of what people tended to call you.
He hated it and whenever he saw it happen, he was quick to utter some threatening words before taking his usual position as your pseudo-bodyguard for the rest of the school day. At first he wasn’t bothered but when you became restless in your pursuit of being his friend, he remembered vividly how people were mocking and making fun of you for trying to be his friend, that he often regrets not accepting your friendship sooner if it meant being able to be there when it counts.
‘When will you get it that Damian doesn’t want to be friends with someone like you.’ One person said.
‘Then I’ll just have to keep trying.’ You rebutted, still smiling somehow.
Another person scoffs. ‘Get fucking real. You’re a weirdo, no one wants to be friends with a weirdo who so fucking slow at everything.’
You merely shrugged, even when someone’s insulting you, your brain doesn’t recognises it as such. ‘I’m sure he won’t mind.’
‘God you’re so fucking useless that I’m surprised that anyone bothers with you. Let me say this in a way you won’t have to try so hard to understand dipshit. Damian. Will. Never. Be. Friends. With. Someone. Like. You. Ever.’ A third slowly spoke and Damian had heard enough and within a blink of an eye had laid them out flat. You blinked before looking at Damian with a bright smile. ‘Hi Damian! Did you hurt these guys, that’s not very nice.’
‘They insulted you and yet you defend their honour.’ Damian asked incredulously as you both walked down the hallway, leaving the three bullies to groan from their injuries. You shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t say that.’
‘They were insulting you.’ Damian reiterated. ‘They insulted your intelligence and your abilities. People like them often hide bigger insecurities than others.’ Damian replied, finding your ability to keep smiling after such things both annoying as it was admirable.
‘Are we friends now?’ You asked innocently enough and Damian knew he had sealed his fate, and so he sighs and looks up to the ceiling. ‘Yes, we’re…friends.’ He mutters and doesn’t do anything to stop you from dragging him to art class.
‘I was alone before Damian.’ You admitted as you looked at Bruce with a smile as you squeezed Damian’s hand in kind. ‘But now he’s here and he’s my bestest friend ever!’ Damian honestly wishes that you respect yourself more because you could claim that he saved you multiple times, but you’d never acknowledge the times where you have saved him by being unequivocally kind, sweet and over all a better person then all of Gotham’s civilians combined. ‘I was finding my first week at school horrid before I befriended l/n.’ Damian admitted as you softly cooed. The boy then swallows thickly. ‘Their friendship is much appreciated.’
‘Aww! Dami!’ You cried as you crashed into him, causing you both to hit the floor in a heap of limbs.
While Damian was cursing mom lethal threats and you were laughing, Bruce had already made his mind up about you and was certain to make sure to have Damian invite you over as much as possible. It was obvious for him to see that you and Damian were good for each other despite your vast and glaring differences, however that’s what worked in your favour, the power to have over come all odds was incredible; not to mention the fact that your friendship with Damian had lasted as long as it has was another impressive feet on top of that. Bruce knows it’s been hard for Damian to fit in and find a friend, but he couldn’t have made a better friend than he did in the likes of you.
You were more than defiantly welcomed back to the manor if Bruce had anything to say about it.
‘Get off of me!’ Damian shouts.
‘Damian, I think my foot is stuck with yours.’ You reply, scared.
‘That’s your own foot- how did you manage to tangle yourself up in yourself? You landed onto of me?’ Damian asked incredulously.
‘Sorry.’ You apologised.
‘Don’t be.’ Damian said.
Bruce smiled one last time before leaving you both alone in the library to untangle yourselves, only to be greeted by Tim, Dick and Jason. ‘Can I help you three?’ Bruce raised an eyebrow at the boys.
‘Nope.’ Dick started.
‘Not really, just…seeing how the little scamps are dealing.’ Jason followed after.
‘Damian? Nice? The same Damian who tried to, oh I don’t know…KILL ME?!’ Tim asked, revealing to Bruce all he needed to know, their breathing behind the library door was telling that they were clearly eavesdropping on the three of you. Jason and Dick looked at him displeased as Tim looked back at them. ‘I’m not the only one of us who thought that.’ He defended himself. ‘I mean it’s nice that he’s looking out for y/n but still that’s not something someone casually forgets.’
Bruce merely leaves Tim, Dick and Jason to their own quarrel, he loves his boys he truly does, but sometimes they’re more trouble than what they’re worth. He can only hope that they don’t scare you off from coming back for good because he was already planning your next visit.
#damian wayne x y/n#damian wayne x you#damian wayne imagine#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne imagines#damian wayne fluff#dc x y/n#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x you#dc comics x reader#dc fic#dc fanfic#dc fanfiction
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banana pancakes - seungcheol (m)
summary: when the city girl comes back home for the summer, the cocky diner owner tasks himself with making her feel welcome.
word count: 12k
warnings: not quite enemies to lovers, more like annoyance to lovers; smut, afab reader, gendered nicknames (mostly just city girl), oral (m receiving)
masterlist
seungcheol was in the middle of a lunch rush when you walked in. you looked frazzled and out of place, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. he almost dropped someone’s blt because he couldn’t stop staring. you however couldn’t figure out who in this dingy place could possibly be the owner, so you awkwardly stand to the side at the counter while you squint at the specials board.
“what’ll you have?” cheol asks as he rounds the bar, ending up at the cash register in front of you. “speak quickly.”
“excuse me?” you ask, taken aback.
“it’s busy, you’re holding up the line, order now or i’ll pick for you,” he tries again and you blink at him in shock. people in the city were rude, sure, but not like this.
“fine, order for me then,” you say as you hand him your card. “and add a black coffee. all of this is to go.”
“i scared you off so soon?” cheol smirks as he rings you up. “total’s two dollars and fifty cents.”
“uh, that’s all?”
“meal’s on me,” he shrugs. “won’t charge you for it if it ends up being something you don’t like.”
“oh, well, thanks,” you say as you sign the receipt. “when will it be ready?”
“when it’s ready,” cheol replies like it’s obvious.
“wonderful service here,” you say as you roll your eyes. you take a seat at the newly open stool at the counter and cheol tsks.
“seats are for customers who eat here,” cheol says while he gets to work with your coffee.
“make the food faster and i’ll leave sooner,” you counter back. cheol nods, smiling to himself as he goes to the back. when he reemerges he’s got one container in his hand that he drops off to you before skillfully helping everyone else at the counter. you watch in quiet appreciation, noticing how his buff chest makes his plaid shirt fight for its life to not pop open. you see bits of curly hair peeking out from under the backwards cap on his head, and-
“that’s the last of it,” cheol says as he drops another container off in front of you. he comes back a moment later with a bag and starts packing it up for you as he explains, “had some left over banana pancakes from breakfast, hope you’re fine with that even though it’s past noon.”
“no, that’s great,” you sputter out, “that’s my favorite kind actually.”
“noted,” cheol says as he holds your gaze for a moment. “then i made you some turkey sausage to go with it. hope it’s worth the two bucks.”
“i’m sure it will be,” you say as you grab the bag. “thanks-”
“cheol,” he smiles. “and you are?”
“y/n,” you reply. “you new here?”
“nope, but you are.”
“no i’m not,” you shake your head. “i grew up here. i’m just home for the summer.”
“from school?” cheol questions, wiping down the counter.
“my big city job, actually,” you reply. “i just quit so i need to live at home for a bit while i find a new one.”
“well it’s nice to meet you, city girl,” cheol smiles. “enjoy the food.”
“bit of advice?” you ask as you stand up, sipping your coffee. “fix the attitude. good coffee though.”
-
“and then he ended up paying for my food,” you finish explaining to your best friend, vernon. as soon as you left the diner you headed to vernon’s house (where he still lives with his parents - don’t mention it, it’s a touchy subject).
“yeah, seungcheol’s a weird guy,” vernon replies as he takes another one of your pancakes and folds it up like a taco. “at least you got free food though, that means he likes you.”
“doubtful,” you roll your eyes. “he seems like a dick.”
“oh then he’s just your type,” vernon teases, and you kick at his lap. he’s the definition of bachelor living at home, he has the whole basement of his parent’s house to himself and there’s really just a bed, a couch, and a full set of instruments set up in the corner for his band that practices here. you’re currently sat on the couch, a movie long forgotten on vernon’s projector. you couldn’t stop talking about cheol, or thinking about him, since you left the diner. he really irked you today. “whatever. pretend you don’t think he’s sexy, but i think someone’s got a little crush.”
“screw you,” you laugh as you snatch the take out container from his lap. “you don’t get to eat my food anymore.”
“seungcheol does deliveries, you know,” vernon says coyly. “i could call him and he’ll be here in minutes...”
“eat all you want, just save me a pancake.”
-
after your debrief with vernon, you finally headed back home. you needed the time with your best friend to catch up and get some much needed insight on your current situation. you were staying at home for a while, yes, but you couldn’t decide how long that would last. you had quit your job in the city because you were burned out, and you didn’t know what was coming next. but the little bit you’ve spent at home has reminded you of how easy life here can be. you can’t decide if you need to refresh your city life, or just stay at home and slow it down for a while. vernon wasn’t much help, he just reminded you of all the things you’d miss about both places, and then not so subtly mentioned that cheol only exists in your small town.
cheol. he’s a mystery to you, but thinking about him makes your blood boil. unfortunately, vernon told you, his diner is the only edible place in town right now. you don’t feel like cooking for yourself tonight, and your parents are currently out of town on vacation, so if you want a meal then you’ll have to face the bully in a baseball cap again.
once you’ve unpacked at home, you collapse onto the couch in your living room, ready to relax and maybe order a pizza to keep you from seeing cheol again so soon. you spend a few minutes channel surfing only to be interrupted by your stomach growling, and you realize your fate is set. you’ll have to go back to the diner.
when you walk through the door, you’re met with the ding of the bell and silence. there’s only one other person there, sitting at the far end of the counter with his food. at the sound of the bell cheol emerges from the back, wiping his hands and smiling.
“back so soon, city girl?” he asks. “sit anywhere, i’ll bring you a menu.” wordlessly you find the stool you sat at earlier today and sit, smiling awkwardly at the only other customer here. he nods back, a patch of ketchup on the side of his lips. when cheol comes back he passes you a menu and asks the man, “all good hoshi?”
“you got anymore ketchup?”
“check your face.”
“charming, isn’t he?” hoshi, apparently, asks you. you chuckle politely and look at the menu, but hoshi’s interest is piqued. “sorry, what’s your name?”
“city girl!” cheol shouts from the back, and you shoot him a glare he doesn’t see.
“i’m y/n,” you reply. “nice to meet you. aren’t you friends with seungkwan?”
“i am! how do you know him?”
“we went to school together,” you explain, and hoshi nods.
“you’re vernon’s big city friend,” hoshi connects the dots. “what brings you back home?”
“need to save money while i look for a new job,” you tell him, and cheol joins you at the counter just then.
“saving money and yet you’ve eaten here twice today?”
“well you gave me my food for free earlier, so i thought i could get another deal,” you joke.
“she got free food?!” hoshi shrieks. “i come here every day! i keep your lights on! i deserve a free meal every once in a while!”
“yeah, but you’re not a pretty girl, hosh,” cheol replies.
“oh, i see what’s going on here,” hoshi smiles knowingly. you sputter trying to defend yourself, but cheol won’t let you.
“do you know what you want?” he asks you, “or you want me to pick again?”
“how’s the fried chicken?” you ask hoshi instead.
“oh, to die for,” he tries to convince you. “but if cheol really likes you then you should ask for something off menu-”
“gross,” you interject.
“-like pasta, he makes a killer carbonara-”
“hoshi,” cheol warns, and you hide your smirk seeing the blush on cheol’s cheeks. when he turns back to you it deepens because he sees how you’re staring at him. he clears his throat and asks, “so? chicken or not?”
“i’ll do the chicken and potatoes please,” you say with a nod. “and another coffee too.”
“it’s almost 8pm,” cheol stops. “you’re gonna drink coffee at 8pm?”
“you’ve still got some in the pot,” you nod toward the machine. “just give me what’s left and you won’t have to throw it out. i’m the only crazy person who drinks coffee this late apparently.”
“you’re never gonna sleep,” cheol continues to scold you.
“i will, promise,” you insist. “now give me the coffee, please. i’m a little tired of you telling me what i can and can’t have here.”
“this is riveting,” hoshi says with his chin on his hand, leaning over the counter as he watches your interaction. with cheol safely in the back, he scoots a couple seats closer and asks, “so do you think he’s hot?”
“excuse me?”
“it’s alright, you can tell me,” he says. “your secret is safe with hoshi.”
“i’m sorry, i don’t-”
“stop bothering my customer, man,” cheol says as he returns with a clean coffee mug. he pours what’s left from the pot and passes it to you, your hands brushing as he passes it over. “you tired or something? why’re you drinking coffee so late?”
“it’s 8pm, this isn’t late,” you say before taking a sip. “and it’s good coffee. sorry i wanted to give you money.”
“can i get the check?” hoshi asks, interrupting the way seungcheol was trying to commit the shape of your lips to memory. “i’ll leave you two alone.”
“no, you’re fine,” you say quickly, but cheol is faster and has the check and change ready for hoshi. he politely waves goodbye to you both, and after the ding of the bell the diner falls silent. cheol leans back against the counter with the coffee, watching you. “shouldn’t you be in the kitchen?”
“nope, i was waiting to see if anything interesting was gonna happen out here,” he replies as he crosses his insanely buff arms over his chest.
“sorry buddy, but i’m all good,” you say as you take another sip of coffee. “just incredibly hungry.”
“then let me help you with that,” he says with a smirk before disappearing. you notice that your cheeks are hot, probably from how enraging seungcheol is. no other reason.
-
one thing you’re determined to do while you’re home is clean out your childhood room. your mom has been complaining about how much junk you and your siblings have left here over the years, and you’re tired of the passive aggressive comments whenever you come visit. consider it an early birthday present mom, the old toys and decaying art projects will be gone before you know it!
it takes a few days for you to sort through all the junk, throwing out what’s unusable and making countless trips around town to donate the rest. you’re finally left with the bones of your room: a few childhood mementos you can’t bear to part with, the twin bed you’ll be sleeping on for the next few weeks, and a broken desk you can’t seem to move on your own. you’ve been frustrated by the thing more times than you can count, so you cave and call vernon for help.
“come move my desk for me,” you say as soon as he picks up.
“hello?” he replies, confused.
“hey,” you continue. “you know the desk in my room that’s been broken since high school? help me move it, please.”
“why?”
“because it’s annoying.”
“just like you?”
“please vernon?” you whine. “it’s too heavy for me on my own and my car isn’t big enough to drive it somewhere.”
“fine. you owe me pizza though,” he says as you hear keys jingling in the background. “be there soon.”
eventually there’s a knock at your front door, and you slump up from the couch grumbling about how late vernon is. you open the door, ready to complain about his punctuality, only to be met with cheol’s smiling face.
“hey city girl, heard you need a truck?” he asks as he leans forward, peeking into your house. “where’s the desk?”
“um, my room?” you reply, and you watch in shock as cheol walks in and makes himself at home. “where are you going?”
“to your room?” he turns around, hands in his pockets but smirk still perpetually on his lips. “vernon said you’d have it ready to go but i guess he didn’t realize how spoiled you must be.”
“spoiled?” you scoff, pushing past him to your room. “because i can’t move a desk by myself?”
“it’s alright, everyone has flaws,” cheol nods as he follows you like an eager puppy. he stops at the doorway to your room, taking it in. he tries to hide a smile when he sees the baby blankets and dolls strewn across your bed. “you gonna introduce me to your friends?”
“shut up,” you snap. “come help me with this.”
“can’t even give me a please?” he sighs, coming into your room anyway. he joins you at the desk, facing you at the other end. he gets a good grip and then says, “lift on three. one, two, three,” he huffs. it’s astounding how easy it is to move with cheol’s help, and he backs out of your room carefully to make sure you don’t trip.
“so where’s vernon?” you ask, carefully walking the desk out of your house. you get to the front steps and cheol stops.
“you think you can get it down the stairs?” he asks. “don’t trip.”
“i’ll be fine,” you insist. “answer my question.”
“vernon doesn’t have a truck.”
“i didn’t say i needed a truck,” you grumble. “this could’ve fit in his van.”
“that broken down thing?” cheol chuckles. “i’m pretty sure the extra weight would make the car stop altogether. vernon felt the same, that’s why he asked me so nicely to come help a damsel in distress.”
“you’re obnoxious, did you know that?” you ask him as he guides you to lift the desk up into the back of his truck.
“and you’re stronger than you look,” he comments slyly, watching as you straighten your clothes. “so where’s this going?”
“the dump?” you reply. “thanks for hauling it, i guess.”
“hey, whoa,” he whistles as you start turning back to your house, “where are you going?”
“inside?”
“you’re not coming with me?” he asks with a pout.
“you’re a big boy, you can manage on your own,” you reply with a similar pout.
“no, seriously,” he says, “you gotta come with me to tell me where this goes.”
“i don’t care, just drop it off somewhere,” you reply.
“hm, and you said you weren’t spoiled,” cheol tsks as he climbs into his truck. “whatever. see you later city girl.”
“wait!” you shout over the sound of cheol’s truck starting. he rolls the window down to hear you better, an eyebrow quirked as he waits for you to go on. “um, let me grab my keys. i’ll be right back.”
“sure thing,” he smirks. “i’ll keep the seat warm for ya.”
-
“are you sure this is the right way?” cheol complains. you’ve circled this block three separate times, so sure that the donation center is somewhere on this street.
“if you would just slow down,” you whine. “i was here the other day, i know it’s close by.”
“oh, so you can do things on your own?” cheol teases, and you cross your arms. “sorry, that was rude.” silence. “are you giving me the silent treatment now?” nothing. “god. you’re irritating, you know that?”
“hm right back at ya,” you reply. “turn left up here.”
“why?”
“because i said so.”
“fine,” cheol grumbles. as soon as you’re around the corner you see the donation center and you point toward the drop off, already unbuckling your seatbelt so you can be out of the car ready to unload before cheol even puts it in park. “hey, be careful,” he scolds, following behind you and lowering the tailgate. “you’re annoying but i don’t want you to get hurt on my watch.”
“i’ll be fine,” you bark, and cheol holds his hands up in defense.
“did i say something?” he asks as you work together to bring the desk back down. “you’re touchy.”
“you’re getting on my nerves,” you explain, “so let’s move this desk and get this lovely afternoon over with, hm?”
“so nice to someone doing you a favor, sweet thing,” cheol replies, and your grip on the desk almost slips at the new nickname.
“what was wrong with city girl?”
“i like to spice things up,” cheol smirks, knowing he’s getting to you. once you drop the desk off he rushes back to the truck to open your door for you, offering his hand so you can easily climb back into the cab. you ignore him and pull yourself up, and cheol gives your ass an appreciative glance. you let him close the door for you, and you stew silently as he closes the tailgate and gets back into the driver’s side. “you all buckled?”
“yep.”
“you gonna be a brat the whole ride back?”
“depends, you gonna call me spoiled and irritating some more?”
“depends,” cheol smiles, and you let your head fall back onto the headrest with a groan. you drive on for a while in silence, and you try to sneak a glance at cheol without him noticing. he’s wearing a new flannel, the sleeves folded up to his elbows to show off his strong arms. his hair is still hidden by that cap, and you’re tempted to ask him to take it off so you can see the curls you know are hiding underneath. “whatcha lookin at?”
“you,” you don’t try to hide it. “just trying to figure out how someone the town seems to love so much can be such a jerk.”
“when you make the best food for miles people tend to overlook the attitude problems.”
“so you admit it?”
“admit what?”
“that you have an attitude?” you ask, leaning forward to look at him better.
“yes, i do,” he says with a sidelong glance at you. “and the sooner you admit to yours the sooner i think we’ll get along.”
“in your dreams.”
“so you want me to dream about you?”
“oh my god,” you groan, letting your head fall against the dashboard. “drop me off here, i’ll walk home.”
“no can do, city girl, there’s lots of scary things round these parts.”
“you’re one of them,” you say with an accusing finger pointed cheol’s way.
“but i’m a sweetheart,” he says innocently. “and we’re almost back at your house, take a chill pill.”
“alright dad,” you grumble. there’s another beat of silence before you quietly mumble, “thank you, by the way.”
“what?”
“i said thank you,” you repeat. “i don’t know how i would’ve moved that desk on my own. so thanks.”
“you’re welcome, sweet thing,” cheol says happily. “you know, if you got my number, you could ask me for help whenever you need it.”
“i think i can manage on my own,” you say with a nod as cheol pulls up to your house. he puts the truck in park and turns to face you, arms still draped over the steering wheel.
“well, you know where to find me,” he replies. you think he’s going to say something else, but he just stares at you instead, so you awkwardly clear your throat and say your goodbyes. cheol watches you walk up to your house, making sure you’re safe inside before pulling off. you see him waiting when you turn to close the door, and you shyly wave goodbye before closing it behind you.
-
the next day you find yourself outside the diner again. you had been running around town all morning finishing up errands, and you tried holding out on grabbing a cup of coffee for as long as possible. you don’t know what cheol does to make the coffee so good but you can’t stop thinking about it. the coffee and the man serving it are addictive, and you take a deep breath before opening the door to find an empty diner. no diners, no cheol.
“hello?” you call out to no reply. you slowly walk toward the counter and take your usual seat, looking around. you hear footsteps but you’re not sure from where, and cheol appears from a dark corner at the end of the counter. he looks surprised but pleased to see you, and he takes his time moseying down to stand in front of you.
“well hey there sweet thing,” he greets you. “coffee?”
“please,” you nod. “how did you know? and where did you come from?”
“you’re a creature of habit,” he replies. “and my apartment is upstairs, it was slow so i went up to take a break.”
“really mixing your work life balance living above your business,” you tell him. “that’s not good for you.”
“coffee’s not good for you either,” cheol scolds despite handing you a fresh cup.
“then why do you serve it?” you question, taking the warm mug from him regardless.
“brings in the money,” he answers. “you want anything else?”
“hm, i’m good for now, thanks,” you reply, trying to organize the bags at your feet. cheol stands on his toes, looking over the counter to stare at your stuff.
“shopping till you drop?” he teases, and you groan as you sit back up.
“i promised my mom i would restock the house before my parents came back from vacation, so i had to get some groceries,” you start to explain. “but i forget we live in the middle of nowhere so i had to go to a couple stores to get everything i need.”
“your parents are coming back?” cheol asks, and you hum in response. he leans on the counter, abnormally close to you, before he says, “when do you want me to stop by to meet them?”
“um, never?” you respond. “you’ve probably met them already, why do you have to be weird about this.”
“because i like seeing you squirm,” he smiles before pushing back from you. “if you don’t need anything else i’m gonna go check on something in the back.”
“take your time,” you mumble. you busy yourself with something on your phone and almost miss the plate that cheol slides in front of you. you look up to see him with hopeful eyes, and then you look down to find out he’s giving you a piece of pie. “what’s this?”
“cherry pie.”
“i didn’t ask for pie,” you say, and he rolls his eyes.
“but i’m giving it to you. you could say thanks.”
“what if i don’t like cherries?”
“tough!” he replies. “i’m not leaving you alone until you take a bite.”
“what if i’m allergic?” you try testing him further, squinting at him. he squints back before he replies, watching you take your first bite.
“then i’ll administer mouth to mouth,” he retorts, making you almost choke.
“that’s not how you stop an allergic reaction,” you cough out, and cheol watches on amused.
“you want some water?”
“no, i need you ten feet away from me,” you laugh nervously. “i’ll take the check, i should go anyway.”
“but you didn’t finish the pie,” he pouts, and you feel something in your chest tighten. you settle back on the stool and sigh, taking another bite. “so?”
“it’s really good,” you mumble, some crumbs falling to your lips. cheol motions for you to wipe your mouth and, embarrassed, you grab a napkin. “but seriously. you can give me the check, i’ll go ahead and pay and you can go back to doing whatever diner man things you do.”
“i don’t have any diner man things to do right now,” he shrugs. “the check can wait.”
“why do you like messing with me so much?”
“everybody needs a hobby,” cheol smiles. “what do you like to do? throw flaming darts at a picture of me?”
“fascinating that you think i put that much emotion into how i feel about you,” you reply, and cheol mimics getting stabbed in the chest.
“damn, city girl, that hurts,” he hisses.
“sorry, that was mean,” you backtrack. “i just. i don’t know how to handle you.”
“you can handle me however you want,” he nods. “i can take it.”
“good to know,” you mumble out, focusing on the pie. “thanks for this.”
“you’re welcome,” cheol smirks, watching you intently. “i’ve heard they pair well together. kinda like you and me. the coffee is bitter, like you,” cheol teases, “and the pie is sweet, like me.”
“i’m gonna vomit.”
“not on my counter,” cheol replies with a laugh, and you glare at him as you reach for your wallet. you hand your card over to him and he pretends to swipe it at the register. “should i make fake beeping noises to sell it or will you just let me give you this for free without a fight?”
“you can’t turn a profit if you keep giving people free food you know,” you scold. “not a good business plan.”
“i only do it for you,” he shrugs. “so i think i’m fine. come back whenever want, city girl. i’ll take care of you.”
-
one of the benefits of being home is seeing all of the friends you’ve missed while you were in the city. you’ve missed your movie nights with vernon and seungkwan specifically, so when vernon calls asking what your friday night plans are you’re thrilled to tell him you’re not busy. within minutes of showing up at his house you’re settled on the ginormous bean bag chair you claimed as yours several years ago. the boys are on the couch bickering over which movie to watch, but knowing vernon, he’ll probably have the final say regardless. you don’t care what you watch, you’re just happy to be here.
“y/n, help,” seungkwan whines. “tell vernon i don’t want to watch cars.”
“it’s his house kwan,” you reply. “if he wants to binge all the cars movies then i’m afraid that’s what we’re doing tonight.”
“and this is why y/n is my favorite friend,” vernon says with a finger pointed in seungkwan’s face. he rolls his eyes and moves vernon’s hand before fighting back.
“if we’re watching cars then i need a drink,” he grumbles, and vernon reminds him that he keeps the minifridge stocked with beer just for seungkwan. he asks if you want one but you decline, too comfortable curled up on the bean bag to sit up just so you can drink.
“you gonna make it through the movie or are you gonna fall asleep on us?” vernon asks you with a smile. you hum as you think about it.
“depends,” you say with a stretch. “are we eating? food would wake me up.”
“yeah, it’s on its way,” vernon replies and you nod, nuzzling back into the bean bag chair so you can see the screen better.
“ok,” seungkwan starts as he sits back down, “i will watch this movie, maybe the second one, but i am not watching the third. and vernon i swear to god if you make me listen to life is a highway in that disgusting car of yours-”
seungkwan is cut off by the sound of the doorbell ringing, and you assume vernon, the one who lives here, will get up to check. you peek over at him and instead see both of the boys staring at you expectantly.
“what?”
“go get the door,” vernon says. “that’s our food.”
“you get it! this is your house!”
“you’re closer to the stairs,” vernon replies. “you know the rules.”
you groan loudly as you get up, and continue groaning as you stomp up the stairs, and you make sure your footsteps are loud and obnoxious as you walk to the front door to make the boys very aware of how annoyed you are. you pull the front door open just as the bell rings again, and you almost shriek when you see who’s on the other side.
“y/n,” seungcheol smiles. “fancy seeing you here.”
“what the hell?” you ask in disbelief.
“you’re not happy to see me?” he pouts, readjusting the bags of food in his arms. “bummer.”
“i-what?”
“vernon ordered food, didn’t he?” cheol asks, and you nod. “i’m delivering the food. what about this is hard for you to understand?”
“none of it i guess,” you mumble, stepping aside to let him in. “do you need help carrying it?”
“nope, just show me where to go,” cheol says as he waits for you to close the door. you start walking him toward the basement and then stop, making cheol almost run into you. “whoa city girl, warn me next time.”
“s-sorry,” you stutter, “um, i was just gonna say the stairs are kinda narrow, so seriously, give me something to carry. it’ll be easier.”
“if you insist,” cheol sighs, nodding to the bags on top. “take those. if we’re going down stairs they might fall.” you take the bags, but don’t move further. cheol gives you a look and asks, “you forget where you’re going?”
“why are you here?”
“told you,” he smiles. “i’m making a delivery.”
“but the diner, who’s watching it?”
“it’s late, diner’s closed,” he explains. “i’m doing this and then going home.”
“and you always do the deliveries yourself?” you question, finally walking back toward the basement.
“if they tip well,” he jokes. “and i’d heard you would be here, so that’s an added bonus.”
“you invited him?” you ask vernon as soon as you’re back downstairs. he turns to look at you and smiles when he sees cheol trailing behind you.
“i ordered food from him, yeah,” vernon says. “it’s good to support small businesses, y/n.”
“yeah, y/n,” cheol mimics. you try to help him place the food on vernon’s shoddy table so you and the boys can eat, but he insists, “i got it, sweet thing, you can sit down-”
“no, i’m trying to help so you can leave-”
“seriously, i’m good-”
amidst your bickering you accidentally knock into cheol, making the last part of the order topple over onto the floor. you gasp as you watch the drinks spill all over vernon’s rug, and you reach for the paper towels before kneeling down to clean the mess.
“vernon, i’m so sorry,” you say quickly, trying to dab everything up. you see him and seungkwan spring into action out of the corner of your eye, kwan looking for a real towel and vernon in search of something to handle the stickiness. that leaves you and cheol, who kneels in front of you to help in the meantime.
“you don’t know when to stop,” he mumbles as he frustratedly tears off some paper towels. you stop moving and glare at him as you ask, “what?”
“i said you don’t know when to stop,” cheol repeats, taking the dirty towels to the trash. “you don’t like people helping you. you’re too stubborn.”
“first i’m spoiled, now i’m stubborn?” you ask, still kneeling on the ground. cheol’s standing over you, returning your harsh stare, and for a moment your mind flashes to a very different situation with cheol looking down at you on your knees. “i hate you.”
“you keep telling yourself that,” cheol scoffs, walking away. “does vernon keep soap down here?”
“i mean it,” you say as you stand and follow him wandering around.
“if you hate me then why do you find a reason to see me every day?” cheol asks, spinning around to face you. “you’re either in my diner or in some kind of situation where you need my help-”
“your help?” you spit back. “i’ve never asked for your help.”
“moving your desk? feeding you? cleaning up a mess you made?” he lists off.
“oh you’re so full of yourself,” you mock.
“is that why i feel like i catch you staring at me whenever you think i’m not lookin?” he asks, and you back down. “no, tell me. am i imagining that? or am i right, are you as obsessed with me as i am with you?”
“you, what?” you whisper, watching cheol intently as he calms himself down.
“nothing. forget it,” he mumbles as he turns to leave. “enjoy the food.”
-
with your parents coming home, there was less time for you to hang around town and risk running into cheol. that’s a good thing, because you don’t think you could face him again after what happened in vernon’s basement. it was hard enough explaining to him and seungkwan what went down without them exchanging knowing glances, so you’re sure whatever feelings you have and don’t understand are just as obvious to cheol.
cheol is glad for the break too, but he finds himself hopeful at the sound of each bell, looking up to see if it’s you coming through the door or not. yes, you’re annoying. yes, you made him mad the other day. but he still wants to explore whatever’s happening between you. he knows he can be hard to read sometimes, and you’re the first person in maybe years that he’s felt this way towards. so, in the hopes of bettering himself, cheol buys a self help book. he usually turns to books when he needs a break from reality, either escaping to a fantasy world to neglect the problems in his own or buying a book that will help him with his business. it’s not out of the ordinary to find him reading behind the counter when it’s slow, but he forgets that the eyes everywhere in town make it hard to keep anything a secret.
people have noticed you suddenly stopped going to the diner, and they’ve seen cheol’s face fall every time someone other than you walks in. hoshi especially is keen to what’s going on, so during his next visit he comes in with a purpose.
“hey hosh,” cheol greets without looking up from his book. “sit anywhere, be with you in a minute.”
“sure,” hoshi nods, taking his usual spot at the counter. he lets cheol read a second longer before asking, “whatcha got there?”
“a book, you seen one before?” cheol asks as he joins hoshi further down the bar. “what can i get you?”
“i’ve seen a book before,” hoshi replies seriously. “read one? no. and i would like your finest hamburger, please. extra ketchup.”
“not sure why i even ask anymore,” cheol chuckles, writing the ticket anyway. “you always order the same thing.”
“i like what i like,” hoshi shrugs.
“yes you do,” cheol nods. “it’ll be out soon.”
“gives you more time to read, hm?”
“what? sure,” cheol agrees, scooting the book farther from hoshi so he can’t see what it is.
“whatcha reading?” he asks anyway, and cheol clears his throat, ready to lie. “something about love?”
“what?” cheol whips his head up, embarrassment in his eyes.
“there’s a big ole heart at the start of that chapter, are you reading a romance? tell me about it,” hoshi says as he rests his hands on his fists, watching cheol expectantly.
“it’s um, it’s not about love.”
“no?”
“well, not like that,” he explains. “it’s, um...you have to swear not to repeat this.”
“what’s in it for me?”
“i’ll stop serving you,” cheol warns.
“noted, your secret is safe,” hoshi agrees. “so what is it?”
“it’s a book about relationships, mostly. teaches you how to be in love better,” cheol replies, making hoshi smile.
“and who’s the lucky lady?” he asks, causing cheol to blush.
“let me go check on your food, man.”
“whoever it is i wish you a very happy life together!”
-
you’re able to last well over a week without visiting the diner. it’s been nice not running into cheol, because you haven’t experienced that weird feeling that comes with being in his presence. what’s even weirder though is the new thing you might be feeling. you think you miss him, and you really want to apologize for being such a problem before.
one saturday you’re up early, and you find yourself pacing back and forth outside the diner. it’s so early the diner isn’t even open yet, but you still trudge to the door and knock quietly, knowing if you don’t address it now you never will.
you knocked softly enough you hoped cheol wouldn’t be able to hear, but before you can run away you see his broad chest through the blinds. you hear the door unlock, followed by the bell tingling as cheol opens the door. he looks you up and down then grunts, “we’re closed.”
“but i want to come in.”
“you think you’re special, city girl?” he asks with the hint of a smile.
“i’m a paying customer, you really gonna turn me away?” you reply, and for a moment you’re afraid he’ll actually tell you to leave.
“i’d never turn you away,” he says at last, stepping to the side so you can come in. “take a seat, i just made a pot of coffee.”
“it’s like you knew i was coming,” you smile before melting into a yawn. cheol watches you fondly, placing a menu at your usual seat. “i don’t need a menu.”
“what do you want?” he asks while he makes your coffee.
“um, i uh, i wanted to say i’m sorry?” you answer, awkwardly standing next to the stool.
“you sure about that?” cheol asks as he hands you the mug. your fingers brush, and you find the confidence to look him in the eyes as you try again.
“i’m aware i can be a little hard to get along with,” you try again. “you’re really nice. and i wasn’t always appreciative of that. so i’m sorry.”
“that’s all?”
“huh?” you ask, cheeks warming in embarrassment. “i said i’m sorry-”
“i mean, are you done with your apology?” cheol corrects himself, and you nod. “good. because it wasn’t necessary.”
“it wasn’t?”
“no,” he shakes his head. “i like that you’re a little bratty.”
“oh my god,” you roll your eyes, taking a sip of the coffee to avoid saying something ‘bratty’ in response.
“sorry,” he smiles. “i should’ve said i like you just the way you are, city girl. but thanks for smoothing things over.”
“good,” you nod. “now let me pay for the coffee.”
“nope,” cheol shakes his head. “first cup of the day is always free.”
“you’re a liar,” you accuse him.
“and you’re pretty,” he counters, and you choke on your next sip slightly. “what? you disagree?”
“just wasn’t expecting that,” you say as you wipe your face. “can i get a napkin please?”
“you wanna order too?” he asks as he grabs a napkin for you. “want me to tuck this in your collar?”
“see, i thought we had reconciled and now here you are saying something insufferable again.”
“i’m good at that, aren’t i?” he smiles, passing you the napkin. “so are you staying for a while? you want banana pancakes?”
“please.”
you watch on as cheol finishes opening the diner, getting comfortable enough at your seat that you pull out a book and start reading while you wait for your food. you’re there long enough for other customers to start trickling in, and you’re too immersed in your book to hear the murmurs about you being there so early. what everyone assumes is that you just spent the night there, so the rumors that the diner owner finally found a special someone are traveling through town at the speed of light. you and cheol are both oblivious, so when he brings you your food before serving anyone else there’s several sets of eyes watching the exchange.
“what are you reading?” he asks, wiping off a set of utensils for you as he waits for your response.
“ah, it’s this book my coworker recommended,” you explain, then correct yourself. “ex-coworker, i guess. keep forgetting i don’t work there anymore.”
“you wanna talk about it?” cheol asks, helping someone else at the counter without pulling his attention from you. you shake your head, and he asks a different question, “tell me about the book then.”
he listens intently as you describe the plot, mentioning that it’s supposed to be a love story and you don’t usually like those. cheol realizes this is the most he’s ever heard you talk, and he briefly thinks about how easy it would be to sit and listen to you all day. he lets you finish before he excuses himself to make rounds through the diner, and you catch your gaze following him wherever he goes. he smirks to himself when he sees you staring, and he may or may not puff out his chest a little just to give you something to look at.
it doesn’t take you long to finish your food, and cheol keeps the coffee coming. it’s easy for you to lose track of time, and before you know it cheol is stopping in front of you with a deep sigh. you look around and notice the diner is exceptionally empty, and cheol looks exhausted.
“you ok?”
“fine,” he nods, “just a long morning.”
“what time is it?” you ask, searching for your phone.
“almost noon,” he replies, and you can feel your stomach growl. you hope cheol didn’t hear, but of course he did. “you hungry, sweet thing?”
“no, i should really go-”
“stay right there,” he says without giving you a chance to leave. he comes back with a sandwich and fries, and you start to protest when he says, “chill out, this was a pickup order no one ever came for.”
“but i don’t wanna be a bother-”
“y/n,” he says sternly, silencing you quickly. he never calls you by your name. “you’re fine. i like the company.”
“well i’ll only keep you company if you take a break and eat with me,” you conclude, and cheol has to hide his smile as he wipes his hands off.
“let me go grab a plate, we can share.”
when he comes back, you take the empty plate and slide more than half of the fries onto it followed by the bigger slice of the sandwich. cheol tries to complain, reaching for your plate so you’ll end up with the fuller meal, but you push your body weight into him to keep him away.
“cute,” he hums, letting you win. “i am stronger than you, you know.”
“more reason for you to get the bigger plate,” you say as you pop a fry into your mouth. “now eat.”
“so bossy,” he shakes his head as he obeys regardless. then, with a mouthful of sandwich, he asks, “how do you like being home?”
“eh,” you shrug. “it was nice at first because it had been so long, but now i’m kind of antsy.”
“why? missing the city too much?” cheol asks, sliding a napkin to you and motioning to the edge of your mouth. he wants to wipe the mustard off for you, but he doesn’t think that would be a good idea.
“a little,” you admit. “i miss my friends-”
“you have friends here,” cheol points out.
“i miss having things to do,” you add on. “i still don’t have a job.”
“hey, i could always use a dishwasher,” cheol teases, and you push his arm that keeps brushing against yours. “i get it though. this town’s just too small for you city girl.”
“what’s your story?” you say next, catching him off guard. to clarify, you add, “i mean, growing up you weren’t here. visiting during college i never saw you. then all of a sudden your diner is the hottest spot in town. how’d that happen?”
“you sure you never saw me before you came into the diner?” cheol asks, and you do have to think about it for a second.
“no,” you conclude, shaking your head. “i would’ve remembered your face.”
“i’ll take that as a compliment.”
“you should,” you reply, quirking an eyebrow at cheol when he looks at you surprised. “so when did you move here? how’d you start the diner?”
“my dad grew up here,” he begins. “actually, i think we went to the same university. i was talking to vernon about it and i was a couple years ahead of you, but i was there. i always dreamt of having my own business, i just didn’t know what it would look like. at first i tried setting up a cafe downtown-”
“who’s the city girl now?” you joke, and cheol pinches your arm before continuing.
“but i failed before i even started. i lost so much money i had to move back in with my dad, and he was thinking about moving back here. so i started looking at places, and planned out the diner,” cheol says with a sweep of his hand. “honestly, i’ve always been afraid of the city. so i think it’s great that you seem to thrive so much there. takes a very special kind of person.”
“i’ll take that as a compliment,” you mimic, and cheol smiles.
“you should.”
“i can’t believe this is so new though,” you say as you look around. “it feels like it’s been here forever. you’ve done a good job making this feel like home, even if it wasn’t part of me growing up here. i come in and i just feel..”
“feel what?” cheol asks, watching you intently, slowly inching closer.
“i feel safe,” you say quietly. “being here, in this town, usually gives me so much anxiety. but i come in here and...all of that goes away.”
“that’s good to hear,” cheol smiles, tentatively reaching for your hand on the counter. he places his larger, callused hand on yours and squeezes, holding your gaze as he says, “you look comfortable here.”
“it’s because of you,” you admit, and if cheol weren’t so close he would’ve missed it. you don’t elaborate, and cheol thinks things may go further, but it’s like he watches you realize what’s going on in real time. “um, i mean, you’ve worked so hard. to make this place nice, to fit in with everything else in the town. it’s um, because of you that everyone likes this place so much.”
“uh huh,” he nods, tongue in his cheek as he watches you pull away. he would try to stop you, but a quick glance at the clock on the wall tells him it’s about to be lunch rush. he won’t be able to talk to you again for another couple hours anyway, so he lets you go, even though he desperately wants to know what would’ve happened if you’d sat there a little longer.
“um, ok, so, thanks for the food,” you stammer out, making sure you have all of your things. “i really need to go now. you’ll need this stool soon.”
“sure,” cheol agrees, watching you rush toward the door. “hey!” he calls, and you turn with a frazzled look in your eyes. “what are you doin tomorrow?”
“um, nothing, probably,” you reply. “i’ll be here at some point for coffee.”
“ok,” cheol hums. “see you later then.”
-
the next day, a saturday, cheol’s busiest day, there’s a knock at your door around dinner time. you ended up grabbing coffee with vernon at the bakery this morning, so there was no need for a diner visit today. that’s why you’re shocked when you open the door to see a well dressed cheol with a nervous glint in his eyes.
“hey, city girl,” he smirks. “you free for dinner?”
“am i..what?”
“you never came by the diner today,” he pouts. “so i had to make a home visit. now come on, let’s go eat.”
“um, ok, i just, let me change first?” you ask, and cheol nods.
“i’ll be here,” he says, content to wait on your porch as you rush back inside to make yourself presentable. you go for something casual, because even though he had on a white dress shirt he was still wearing his signature baseball cap and walmart jeans. he looked incredible, but that was not what you needed to focus on right now. once you’re satisfied with your look, you sneak out the back door near your room and walk up on an unsuspecting cheol kicking rocks in your front yard. his head lifts at the sound of footsteps, and a proud smile graces his features as he says breathlessly, “you look beautiful.”
“i didn’t do anything special,” you try to downplay, but he shakes his head.
“nope, don’t do that,” he scolds. “you look beautiful. end of discussion.”
“well thank you,” you mumble, and cheol extends his hand for you to take. you shyly lace your fingers in his, and he pulls you forward so he can wrap a hand around your waist. you let out a quiet ‘oh’ as you place your hands on his chest to steady yourself, and when you look up to find cheol staring at your lips you don’t know what else to do other than lean forward and leave a delicate kiss on his. you pull back more nervous than you were before, but cheol looks pleased.
“i was just gonna say your lip gloss was smudged,” cheol says cockily. “but that was nice too.”
“oh then let me take it back,” you joke, and cheol nods, diving back in to kiss you again. “that’s not what i meant-”
“what, you want that one back too?” he asks with a playful look in his eyes.
“no, we’re good,” you laugh nervously as he starts leading you down the path from your house. “what are you up to?”
“i like you,” he says like it’s obvious. “so we’re on a date. we just kissed, remember? you were there.”
“i was, but, i mean, why?”
“why do i like you?” he asks, “or why did we kiss? because you started that.”
“ok, i’ll try again,” you groan. “why now? why not ask sooner?”
“i didn’t think you liked me back,” cheol replies with a shrug. “but after you spent the day mooning at me in the diner i was sure.”
“to be fair i wasn’t sure i liked you until i started mooning at you yesterday either,” you admit.
“i’m glad we’re here now,” cheol smiles, squeezing your hand as you see the diner in the distance. “hope it’s okay for us to eat here?”
“sure,” you shrug. “i hear it’s the best food in town.”
“wait until you’ve tried the place upstairs,” cheol says mysteriously, and you watch as he unlocks the diner and tells you to go toward the hallway that leads to his apartment.
“you closed the diner for this?” you ask, and he blushes.
“i didn’t want anyone to bother us,” he replies shyly. “plus i didn’t want my place to smell like fries when i invite you over for the first time.”
“you know you could invest in an air freshener,” you tease, letting cheol open his apartment and lead you inside. the sight in front of you takes your breath away and quells whatever smart remark you were about to make. “cheol, oh my god.”
“is it too much?” he questions, tsking as he guides you with his hand at the small of your back. you’re silent, taking it all in, noticing the fresh flowers on the table amongst the plates of food. cheol has made what looks like homemade pasta, and you think you could cry. no one has ever done something so nice for you before, and you turn to cheol to tell him exactly that, but he looks worried. “it’s too much.”
“no, cheol, i can’t believe you did this for me,” you say in disbelief. “i love it.”
“you do?” he perks up, and you assure him everything is great. “here, take a seat,” he pulls a chair out for you and hands you your napkin before grabbing a bottle of wine. “do you like red wine?”
“no,” you shake your head, and cheol laughs. “but i’ll have some tonight.”
“tried to make everything perfect,” he sighs, pouring you a small glass that you take gratefully. “guess i’ll try harder next time.”
“next time?” you question, and cheol hums. you take a sip of the wine before adding, “next time i’ll have to cook for you.”
“i’ll hold you to that,” cheol says as he finally sits down across from you. you both laugh as you notice the flowers obstruct your view, and cheol quickly moves the vase, telling you that the flowers are yours to take home later.
“thank you,” you say for the first time tonight. “thank you for all of this.”
“anything to make you feel more at home, city girl,” he says. “now try the pasta.”
you tentatively try a piece, noting that the freshness makes it easier to fork it. you watch cheol as you take the bite, and it’s embarrassing how quickly you melt at the taste. you let out a content sigh, verging on the kind of moan that only comes out when you eat the most delicious piece of food you’ve ever had. cheol couldn’t be happier, and you blush when you notice how closely he’s been watching you.
“how did you learn to cook so well?” you ask with a whine. “it’s not fair.”
“not fair?” cheol laughs, and you nod as you try to get as much pasta in your mouth as possible. “don’t hurt yourself.”
“could you leave us alone please?” you ask, a spot of pasta sauce on your chin. unlike yesterday at the diner, cheol doesn’t back down from reaching across the table to swipe the spot away with his thumb. before he can stop himself he licks it off, meeting your eyes shyly.
“sorry,” he clears his throat, finally picking up his own fork.
“you never answered my question,” you try and change the subject. “you study in italy or something?”
“yeah, actually,” cheol replies. when he sees how confused you look he smiles before explaining, “i had a study abroad in italy. it was before i knew i wanted my own cafe or diner or anything, but one of the excursions for the trip was a pasta making class. guess it stuck.”
“okay now i’m jealous,” you tell him. “of you, for going to italy. but then of anybody else who’s ever had your pasta. this is incredible.”
“you’re the only one,” cheol says nonchalantly.
“why are you so nice to me?” you ask softly, and cheol reaches for your hand across the table. he absentmindedly rubs his thumb over your knuckles as he explains.
“because i like you?” he chuckles. “i already told you that.”
“yeah, but why?” you ask, leaning closer. “why me?”
“i could ask you the same thing,” he replies, but the way you’re staring at him pushes him to answer. “you remember when you came into the diner a couple weeks ago?” you nod, and he continues. “you remember how you were a little rude?”
“if i was rude it was only because you started it,” you grumble, and cheol laughs.
“that’s why i like you,” he says, “you were the first person to take my attitude and give it right back to me.”
“well i’m glad you finally met your match,” you tease. “now can i have my hand back? i want some of that garlic bread.”
“yes ma’am,” he lets go with a final squeeze. he hands you the basket before reaching for the wine, asking, “do you want some more?”
“honestly? no,” you shake your head. “i’m fine with water.”
“i’d offer you something else, but all i have is wine, beer, and a ginger ale that’s been open for two weeks,” cheol tells you.
“actually i’ll take a beer,” you say, and cheol stares at you with a new look in his eyes. “what, weirdo?”
“careful, you might make me say the l word.”
“lasagna?” you joke, and he rolls his eyes as he gets you a beer. he gets one for himself, and you cheers once he’s sitting back down. he watches you take a sip, admiring the way your lips wrap around the bottle, and then you both go back to eating. talking to cheol is easy, you notice. this is a first date but it doesn’t feel like it, and as the night goes on you get this feeling of dread in your gut that you’ll have to leave at some point.
“why do you keep looking at the clock?” cheol asks nervously, a smile on his lips to hide the fact that he’s worried you’re bored or ready to go. “you need to leave?”
“no, no, the opposite,” you assure him. “you fed me the best meal of my life, i’ve now had a glass of wine and two beers, so i’m getting tired..but i don’t think i could leave even if i wanted to.”
“you full?” he asks, standing to clear the table. “because i made dessert too.”
“are you gonna force me to eat cherry pie again?” you ask as you try to help him clean. everything you pick up he just takes from your hands, so instead you grab the empty beer bottles and search for his recycling.
“no, but i made a tiramisu-”
“you made tiramisu?!” you ask, whirling around to see a confused cheol. he nods like it’s nothing, and you groan as you say, “i didn’t think the man of my dreams existed, and yet here you are.”
“i’m the man of your dreams?” he asks, the confusion gone as he sidles up to you to wrap his hands around your waist. “this is great news.”
“hm, suddenly i need to go,” you say as you try to step back, but cheol’s grip tightens and you think you hear the slightest growl come from deep within his chest.
“no.”
“no?”
“no,” cheol confirms, thumbs slipping under your shirt to rub circles onto your skin. “you have to at least try the tiramisu before you go.”
“what if it makes me want to stay even longer?” you ask, and cheol leans in to give you a delicate kiss. without pulling far from your lips, he whispers, “then you stay longer.”
you let your eyes linger on his for a moment before you connect your lips again, your hands moving from their awkward spot on his chest to wrap tightly around his neck. one hand steadies you, and the other tangles into the hair at the nape of his neck that just peeks out from beneath the cap on his head. you groan into his mouth and he can tell it’s a sound of frustration, so cheol pulls back to ask what’s wrong.
“do you ever take your hat off?” you ask him.
“what?”
“take it off,” you command, and you wait for cheol to loosen his grip on you to reach up and remove his hat. you keep watching as he ruffles his hair, letting down the curls you knew were hiding beneath. “do you keep those hidden from the world because you know it makes you hotter?”
“no, i work in food service, keeps my hair out of people’s lunch,” he says, pulling a shy smile from you.
“forget i called you hot then.”
“never,” he replies, leaning back down to kiss you. he pulls one of your hands from his neck and places it on his full head of curls, which you take as a sign to play with and tug at his hair as much as you please. cheol deepens the kiss, his tongue darting out to meet yours, and you unintentionally pull his hair harder. he moans into your mouth and you feel yourself shiver, but you pull back for some reason. cheol really growls this time, asking in a low voice, “where ya goin, sweet thing?”
“mind your business,” you scoff as you kneel in front of him, your hands finding the waistband of his jeans. you look up at him and ask, “is this okay?”
“more than okay,” he groans, hands lacing through your hair now. he watches on with hooded eyes as you unbutton his jeans and pull them down just below his ass, slowly tracing over the bulge in his boxers next. you’re mesmerized by the size of it and you’re still not face to face with his cock, and cheol calling your name pulls your attention back in. “having fun?”
“sh,” you hush him, tracing his outline one more time before pulling at his waistband to let it snap against his skin. he hisses and the grip on your hair tightens, his breath quickening above you.
“baby, you’re killing me,” he whispers, so you glare at him as you pull his boxers down, almost getting hit by his boner when it’s finally set free. you’re quick to grab his shaft, spitting on the tip as you hold eye contact with cheol. he lets out a shaky breath, and he tries to burn this moment into the back of his eyelids so he never forgets the way you look on your knees ready to swallow his cock. you pump him a few times, licking at his tip while you hype yourself up to take him into your mouth.
“you know, i think i’m getting tired,” you tease, trying to push cheol’s buttons. “think i might just head out.”
“you talk a lot,” cheol mumbles. “i’ve got something that could shut you up.”
“oh, you mean this?” you ask, picking up the pace of your hand stroking him until you think he can’t take it anymore. “what if i don’t want to?”
“then i won’t return the favor,” cheol challenges you. he watches, pleased, as you roll your eyes but still lean forward to wrap your lips around his tip anyway. he keeps watching as you inch further down his cock, taking him like it’s nothing. he doesn’t have to worry that he won’t fit, because you keep going until your nose is pressed against his skin. you surprise him by swallowing around him once, then twice, and he uses the grip on your hair to pull you off completely. “shit, baby, you really are trying to kill me.”
“excuse me, i’m doing some of my best work down here,” you say as you wipe the saliva off your chin. “now shut up and let me suck your cock.”
cheol lets you get back to work, but he doesn’t stay quiet. he lets himself moan freely, groaning as he tries to get you closer to him than you already are. every time you swallow around him he cries out, and you can feel yourself getting wetter. you can tell he’s trying to let you lead, his hold on the back of your head strong but reserved. he bucks his hips slightly each time you pull back and suck on his tip, but you want more. you hollow your cheeks and pick up your pace, tears stinging at your eyes as you gag around his cock. cheol has been talking you through it too, telling you how good you’re doing, how sexy you look, how good you’re making him feel. you would be embarrassed at how cock drunk you are right now, tears in your eyes and spit dribbling past your lips, but you’re addicted to the weight of cheol on your tongue and the way his strong hands tug on your hair. you have to pull back to catch your breath, a string of spit connecting your lips to his tip. as you sit back on your calves, cheol takes his cock in his hand, swiping at the spit before smearing it over his tip. he strokes himself lazily as he lets you catch your breath, and when you try to knock his hand out of the way he doesn’t let you get back to work.
“move,” you say sternly. “i’m almost done.”
“yeah, so am i,” cheol laughs. “you’re gonna make me come, city girl.”
“good,” you say proudly, “let me taste it.”
“you’re evil,” he groans, guiding his tip back to you awaiting mouth. he sighs happily when you swallow around him again, and he tentatively thrusts forward to test the waters. when you catch his eye and nod, he knows it’s okay to try again, picking up the pace so he can fuck your mouth. he’s close, and if you wanted a taste that’s what he’ll give you. “i’m about to come baby, you ready?” you moan around him and the vibration sends him over the edge, his release shooting down your throat. it’s sinful the way your eyes roll back as you swallow around him, and cheol thinks in that moment you are the most perfect woman to ever exist. he helps you carefully pull yourself off his cock, and he shudders when the cold air hits him. “you okay, beautiful?”
“all good,” you nod, voice a little hoarse. “i’m tired though.”
“too tired for me to eat you out?”
“in the morning maybe?” you ask, yawning.
“yeah?” cheol asks as he helps you up, and you nod. “you wanna stay the night?”
“can i?” you ask, realizing you didn’t know if he wanted you there or not. “i mean, is that alright?”
“yeah, of course,” cheol says quickly. “i’ll get you some clothes. and water. and a toothbrush.”
“you’re too sweet,” you say shyly, taking the flannel and boxers that he offers you. he leads you to the bathroom where he finds a clean toothbrush, and he disappears while you change so he can get you a glass of water. when he returns he finds you snooping in his medicine cabinet, his lotion on your hands and his fancy floss wrapped around your fingers. “oops?”
“no, make yourself at home,” cheol laughs, handing you the cool glass. “what’s mine is yours.”
“i’m sorry, i got too comfortable,” you say. “sorry. thanks for the water.”
“thanks for the head,” cheol smirks, and you push him slightly as you easily finish the glass. “you want more?”
“no, i’d have to get up in the middle of the night to pee,” you complain. “can i, um, do you mind? if i go to bed?”
“please, baby, you don’t have to ask,” he says, carefully leading you to his room. “i’m gonna wash up, be back in a minute.”
you carefully pull down the blankets on his bed, simultaneously feeling at home yet nervous. you feel comfortable around cheol, sure, but this still feels like a lot all at once. cheol walks in on you contemplating this dilemma that’s only in your head, and he asks with a smirk, “you gonna stare at the bed all night or you gonna get in?”
“sorry,” you mumble, scampering to get under the covers.
“stop apologizing,” he says as he walks to the other side of the bed. “you look cute in my clothes by the way.”
“you look cute without your hat on,” you counter, and you’re proud to see a slight blush on his cheeks as he lays down next to you, mimicking your posture. he lays facing you with an arm under the pillow, and you suddenly feel overwhelmed. “cheol?”
“yeah?”
“is this too much?”
“what?” he asks, the happy look in his eyes faltering slightly.
“me spending the night. it’s our first date,” you whisper, suddenly afraid that speaking too loud will make your worries bigger.
“i don’t mind,” cheol says, pulling for your free hand beneath the covers. “i am very happy to have you here.”
“i’m happy to be here,” you say quietly, and cheol looks at you with an appraising look.
“you sure about that?”
“i am,” you assure him. “i had an amazing night. i’m glad i could do something nice for you after all that you’ve done for me. but...i’m scared.”
“scared? why?”
“i like you,” you whisper. “i like you a lot. but i’m afraid of what the town will say. i’m afraid i like you too much, and i’m afraid of leaving.”
“then don’t leave,” he says simply. “and who cares what the town thinks?”
“no, like what if i get another job? what if i have to leave?” you ask, and cheol thinks for a moment before he pulls you closer, burying your head in his chest. he kisses the top of your head and whispers against your forehead, “then we’ll talk about it. for now just go to sleep.”
-
you wake up early the next morning, light trickling in through the curtains of cheol’s room. you feel more rested than you’ve been in months, maybe years. cheol is still wrapped around you from the night before, and you chuckle when you see how his lips stay pouted as he snores slightly. you watch him a little longer, pushing a stray curl out of his face, and he softly wakes up. he sees you staring down at him and he smiles, taking your hand and kissing your palm before laying it back on his cheek.
“morning, sweet thing.”
“morning, handsome.”
“how long have you been up?” he yawns.
“not long.”
“you been staring at me the whole time?”
“mind your business.”
“you hungry?”
“starved,” you reply, sitting up to stretch. “and i need coffee. bad.”
“good stuff’s downstairs,” cheol mumbles, nuzzling back into his pillow. you’re about to ask where when you look down and see he’s back asleep, so you lean down to kiss his cheek before getting up. you slide on some slippers, shuffling downstairs to the diner to make coffee. you forget to check the time though, because the quiet doesn’t necessarily mean that the diner is closed. when you appear in the doorway, obviously clad in cheol’s clothes, and the ten or so customers in the diner turn to stare at you, your heart drops as you scurry back up to cheol’s apartment. you find him in the kitchen scratching his ass, and he turns to say, “where the hell did you go?”
“you said the coffee was downstairs!” you half scream, and realization dawns on him. he’s shocked for a moment, then tries not to laugh.
“how many people saw your walk of shame?” he asks, failing to hide his smirk.
“enough,” you groan as you fling yourself into his arms. “so i’m sure everyone will know by the end of the day, and it won’t just be our business, and if i ever do leave then everyone will blame me for us breaking up, and-”
“whoa, whoa, slow down,” cheol backtracks, holding you at arms length. “you’re freaking out over nothing.”
“but-”
“no! enjoy this!” cheol says, kissing you on both cheeks. “enjoy this for as long as you can, even if you have to leave. but like i said last night, we’ll talk about that if we get there. i just want to date you and see how much fun that can be. it’s nobody’s business but our own.”
“but everyone downstairs saw me in your clothes,” you whine.
“then they’ll know how nice your legs are.”
“i’m being serious,” you push him. “it was embarrassing.”
“would coffee and tiramisu make it better?”
“throw in some banana pancakes and i might just forget it ever happened.”
“deal.”
#this is so gilmore girls coded and im sorry#seungcheol#choi seungcheol#scoups#svt scoups#seungcheol smut#choi seungcheol smut#choi seungcheol fluff#choi seungcheol one shot#choi seungcheol imagine#seungcheol fluff#seungcheol one shot#seungcheol imagine#reader x seventeen#reader x seungcheol#reader x scoups#seventeen#seventeen fanfic#seventeen smut#seventeen fluff#scoups smut#scoups imagine#scoups fluff#scoups one shot
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Could you write a short fic for Zoros reaction to his s/o falling down some stairs (but she is ok just bruised) please. BTW love your writing
Characters: Zoro x female reader
CW: none :)
Total word count: 1k
Slip and Fall
One second you were upright, walking down the stairs.The next moment, you were staring up at the ceiling.
The pain caught up with you quickly, and you groaned from the aches that riddled your body. Judging by the pain in your back, you must’ve slid down the stairs. Nothing seemed to be broken, but you were certain you’d have a few bruises to show for your misstep.
You closed your eyes and focused on your breathing, trying to recenter yourself and minimize the pain.
“What the hell was-” Zoro’s irritated voice cut off abruptly, and you braced yourself for some kind of cheap joke at your expense.
But nothing came. You were certain he hadn’t left, but he also made no move to get closer to you. Or do anything.
“Y/N?” Zoro’s voice came out as a harsh whisper.
“I’m fine, thanks for asking.” You breathed out a laugh. The pain seemed to be getting worse the more you lay there. “Help me up, will you?”
“No!” Zoro finally moved, rushing over to you to keep you still. “You shouldn’t move. It could-you could-I don’t want you to-”
“Zoro,” you groaned, finally opening your eyes and instantly meeting his.
His eyes were so full of worry. They raked over your body, searching for any sign of injury. And you realized that Zoro was truly scared.
Naturally, his fear made you panic.
“What?” you tried to lift your head, but Zoro refused to let you move.
“Chopper needs to check for a spinal injury. If you landed wrong…” He shook his head, as if he were shaking a thought from his head.
“Zoro, I’m fine.” Though your back was probably blossoming with bruises, you were sure you’d survive.
“Let me go get Chopper. Just stay here for a minute. Please.” His last word was barely a whisper. It was that word, that small act of begging, that kept you anchored to where you laid.
“Alright, alright.” You closed your eyes. “You fuss too much.”
“I do not-” You could hear him clench his jaw in frustration. “Just stay still for a minute!”
His hurried footsteps receded, and you could hear distant shouts from off in the distance, followed by footsteps coming back to you quickly.
“She slipped and fell,” Zoro said softly, and you could hear Chopper set down his medical kit and open it.
“Can you open your eyes for me?” Chopper asked. You opened them.
“Do you know your name?”
You laughed. “Of course I do!”
Chopper and Zoro didn’t join your laughter, so you gave your full name to the doctor.
The reindeer nodded. “And do you know where you are?”
You sighed. “The Sunny. The Grand Line. Don’t ask me where on the Grand Line, because I wouldn’t even know that on my best day.”
Chopper gave a slight smile at that answer, but Zoro was still watching you from a few feet away. He was tucked back in a corner, almost as if he was scared of you.
“Did you hear me?” Chopper asked, waving a hand in front of your face.
You blinked. You hadn’t heard his question. You hadn’t even realized he was speaking.
“What is five plus five?” Chopper asked again.
“Oh. Ten,” you answered quickly, taking your eyes off of Zoro for only a moment before finding him again. He looked so pale, and his mouth was pressed in such a tight line as he watched Chopper. You opened your mouth to speak, but Chopper spoke first.
“Zoro, can you come help her sit up? I’d like to check her back for any signs of injury.”
“Chopper, I told you already! I’m fine!” Your words were accompanied with a groan as you tried to sit up on your own.
Zoro was suddenly there, gently guiding you into a sitting position. You rolled back your shoulders, trying to shake off the stiffness of your muscles. Zoro only watched you, his face still hard as stone.
“Zoro.” Your fingers cupped his face, forcing his eyes to lock onto yours. “I’m here. I’m okay, really.”
“She’s right,” Chopper agreed, looking at you. “Some icky bruises for a few days, and you probably have a minor concussion, but you’re okay.”
“See?” You smiled. “I’m okay.”
Zoro nodded and pulled his face away from your grip. The panic in his eyes has subsided, but only slightly.
“I probably need a lot of bedrest though, right Chopper?” You gave a slight nudge to the reindeer.
“Huh? You don’t-” Chopper caught your wink and worried glance at Zoro. “Oh! Yes! She needs lots of rest. And she shouldn’t be alone…because of the concussion! Zoro, can you look after her?”
Zoro narrowed his eyes slightly, and you gave him a sheepish grin and you held out your hands. “Help me up?” you asked.
He did you one better, gently picking you up off the ground. He was careful to avoid the sensitive spots on your back. How he knew exactly where they were, you weren’t sure, but you were thankful he was considerate.
You were quick to pull him into bed and snuggle into his chest. Even if it wasn’t the most comfortable for your sore body, you were happy to be close to him.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” His response was short, clipped.
“Okay,” you hummed, curling in closer to him.
A few minutes passed in comforting silence, and you were almost asleep when he kissed the top of your head.
“I thought you were dead,” he whispered hoarsely. “I thought I lost you and I just…I couldn’t go through that again. I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t. I’m right here,” you murmured softly into his chest, letting his warmth lull you into a deep sleep.
#one piece#one piece imagine#one piece scenario#one piece x reader#one piece x you#zoro#roronoa zoro#zoro x y/n#zoro x you#zoro x reader#✧˚zoro✧˚#cozage
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“Hey, I need to get married for bullshit Infinite Realms reasons, you two in?”
“Tt, of course.”
“Sure thing! Do we need to get going for that like, right now? Or later?”
“Eh, like in a couple of hours? The Observants are demanding some Royal Ball or something and they pulled out some stupid old laws out of their collective asses that if I’m not married by the time it starts they can assign me spouses of their choosing, can you fucking believe that shit?”
“Woah, what the hell? Can they even do that?”
“I was under the impression they were only permitted to observe.”
“Right? It’s total crap, but apparently there’s like this super old law on the books and they didn’t bring it up until now when there’s like no time left to try and force me to marry someone they pick.”
“They are training to gain influence over you?”
“Eh, more like they’re trying to get control of my Dad by way of me. But still fucked as hell.”
“So why do you need to marry both of us? Or do you just need to marry one of us and we should play rock paper scissor for it?”
“Technically I only need to marry one of you, but I don’t want them pulling out any loopholes or something. So, it’d be great if one of you could be my consort for my role as Queen of Mirrors, and one could be my consort for my role as Crown Princess. You two can figure who’s who on that all that, I’m good with whatever.”
“Oooh, can I be consort for the Mirror Court? I can annoy Kon more that way.”
“I am amenable to that. Grandfather will have a fit when he learns that I can cut his access to the Pits off at my discretion and there’s nothing he can do about it.”
“Awesome, okay are you two good for meeting up at like, three? We can pop over to my Lair and get everything sorted out there.”
“Works for me, my only class til this afternoon is at one and the professor already said we’re cutting out early because she has to go out of town this weekend.”
“Four would be more agreeable if possible, I have to take Titus to the vet for his checkup.”
“Okay let’s aim for four then. It’s just signing some paperwork, making some quick blood-slash-ectoplasm pacts and swearing a couple binding oaths… Should only take like five or ten minutes?”
“They’re not gonna make you have a huge royal wedding or anything?”
“Nah. Dad keeps things pretty chill so as long as the paperwork is all in order we’ll be good. Though once Auntie Dorathea finds out she’s absolutely gonna make us have one. She loves planning weddings. Swear its what she makes her hoard out of somehow.”
“So long as we have a say in some of the proceedings I have no issue with that eventuality.”
“Same, it sounds like it’d be a fun way to annoy the Observants even more.”
“Don’t for get all the weirdos trying to be my suitors and all that bullshit.”
“We have an accord then. We can reconvene at the usual place.”
“Awesome, you two are the best! I gotta jet and let everyone know and get the ball rolling on the paperwork stuff. See you guys at four!”
With that, Nomad - Stella Phantom, Crown Princess of the Infinite Realms, Queen of Mirrors, Core of the Speedforce and ghostly hero of the Titans and the Justice League - tore a rip in the fabric of space and time and darted out of the room the same way she came. Through the mind-bending tear in reality the eerie, eye-searing green of the Infinite Realms glowed in all its unsettling glory, Phantom Keep a glittering expanse of night sky made solid in the distance.
Jon waved at her cheerfully as Damian gave a nod of farewell before both silently turned their attention back to their respective tablets as the portal closed behind their friend and teammate and the glimpse of the Ghost Zone disappeared again. Completely unbothered by the conversation just held or the life changing implications that came with them.
Jon was humming as he tapped away at something on the screen before him, Damian propping his head up on his fist in vague boredom as he frowned down at the information he was reading.
The rest of the room Nomad had left behind was caught in a frozen, stunned silence in the wake of the baffling conversation they’d all just been witness to. All eyes in the room darted between Flamebird and Pheonix seated calmly at the end of the table, then to the space where Nomad had disappeared to, back to the young men, and then towards the head of the table where Superman and Batman sat looking bewildered and a bit on the verge of heart attacks.
The short status update meeting was about to become much, much longer it seemed.
Though a lot more entertaining.
#dpxdc#dani phantom#danielle phantom#elle phantom#jon kent#jon el kent#damian wayne#justice league#super serious chaos#possible platonic super serious chaos it's up to yall#clones are called mirrorborn in the infinite realms#elle is the ancient of the speedforce#Dani Phantom is the Ancient of the Speedforce#I will make this happen if it kills me please someone else write something for this I'm going feral#impulsively marrying your friends to fuck with some of the most powerful entities in existence is a fun pass time everyone should try#their friends and family are exactly as unhinged as these three - sometimes even *More* unhinged - and can't say shit about it#so many justice league members are torn between sobbing because 'This was going to be a short meeting for once!' 😭#and being SO EXCITED because the chaos that is about to break out in this meeting room is going to be SO GOOD#There is so much tea that is going to be spilled at the cafeteria after this
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lover — [w.wonka]
wordcount: 1K
warnings: none
requested: yes!! anon <3
You’d think that working for the greatest chocolate maker in the world would be awesome, right?
You’d be correct. However… some parts were not quite so awesome. Especially when you’re head over heels in love with said chocolate maker.
“Noodle!” I scold, laughing as she tosses yet another chocolate in her mouth, rather than stacking them as we’re supposed to be doing.
She shrugs, and gives me a wicked grin. “Sorry, not sorry.”
I roll my eyes, taking a bite out of my own selected piece of chocolate. Willy always says that we should eat whatever and whenever we like. He just cares that much for us.
“What do you want to do when you’re older, y/n?” Noodle asks me suddenly.
I frown at the question. “I am older.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re like eighteen. I mean older, older.”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I’m pretty content just working at this shop right now. But I’d like to fall in love, get married, and have a family. That would be nice, I guess. It’s not likely, though.”
“Why not? That’s totally likely.”
I smile a little. “Because, Noodle-dee, I’m not that kind of girl. Guys don’t just go and fall in love with me.”
She smirks a little, and pops another chocolate in her mouth. “You never know, y/n-doo.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” There’s a smile in my voice.
Noodle doesn’t reply, so I let it go, going back to stacking Willy’s gorgeous chocolates in their pretty display cases for the shop. This is honestly probably my favourite job in the entire store. Making it look pretty.
It’s the end of the day, all the customers are gone, and just Noodle, Willy, and I are left, all doing our individual closing duties.
Noodle cleans the floors, I count the till money, and Willy, well, I’m still not exactly sure what he does, but he walks through every single room in the entire building, checking something.
Probably some big important, owner-of-the-chocolate-factory job I don’t know about.
Noodle and her bucket of soapy water makes it way over to me. “Hey y/n,” she sing-songs.
“Mm?” I glance up from counting silver sovereigns.
“You know how you were saying you wanted to fall in love?”
“Someday, yeah.”
Noodle looks amused about something. “Are you already in love? Do you at least have someone in mind?”
My brain immediately, unhelpfully, offers up an image of Willy, with his smiling face and unruly dark curls. I suddenly get very flustered. “Uh—no. Of course not, Noodle.”
“Really.” She raises an eyebrow, deadpanning at me.
I shake my head. “I don’t have anyone, uh, in mind, no. I’m not in love. That’s ridiculous.”
At that moment, without either me or Noodle noticing, Willy reenters the main shop room where we both are. But I’m so engrossed in trying to convince Noodle to drop this topic that I don’t even see him.
“What about Willy?” Noodle suddenly asks.
I drop my stack of sovereigns. “What do you mean?”
Noodle has her hands on her hips. “You like him. It’s so obvious.”
I fumble with the coins, trying desperately to keep my hands from shaking. “No—? I don’t—um. No. I don’t like him. I mean I do, like him. But not, uh, like, like him.”
“Are you sure? You don’t seem sure.”
I groan, slamming the sovereigns onto the counter. “Fine. You win, Noodle-dee. I like Willy. A lot. In fact, I’m desperately in love with him and I think about him almost constantly. Now can you please drop it?” I don’t even realise I have tears in my eyes, but my emotions suddenly come to a swirling head, and I hiccup, and brush a tear away.
“I’m sorry,” Noodle whispers, but she sounds more triumphant than sorry. “I won’t ask you about it again.”
She grabs up her bucket and leaves abruptly.
I blink a few times, let out a sigh, and finish up with the till money. Then I flick off all the lights, lock up the inner doors, and get ready to leave for the day.
Noodle has already signed out, so I guess it’s only Willy left in the shop somewhere. “Willy?” I call, “I’m heading off now!”
Willy appears, hurrying over to me. “Thanks, y/n.” He has a weird look on his face, and he won’t look at me.
“Everything okay?” I ask uncertainly. “You look strange.”
He shakes his head. “Fine, fine. I’m okay.”
“Alright.” I shrug. “I’m heading home now. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I say this every day. It’s like clockwork.
Willy usually echoes it back, tells me to get home safely, and gives me a smile. But today, it’s different.
“Y/n, wait,” he says, just as my fingers are on the doorknob.
I glance at him. “Yeah?”
He licks his lips, glancing everywhere but me. “I heard you and Noodle earlier.”
I freeze, unsure of what to say or do. “You did?”
He nods. “Is it true? You’re in love with me?”
I don’t answer right away. I look at him for a moment, breathe, and then nod my head once. “Ever since I met you,” I say, and try to laugh. But it’s not really that funny. It’s kind of pathetic, actually. Because I am just y/n, and he is Willy Wonka.
“Me too, you know.”
It takes me way too many heartbeats to understand what he means. “What?”
“I’m in love with you, too, silly.” He chuckles, playing with his fingers.
I stare at him. “You… you, what?”
He laughs again, more forcefully this time. “Y/n, just come here.” He reaches for me, hands cupping my face, and when he pulls me into him, and kisses me, I can’t even breathe. It’s surreal, like a dream, but it’s real, and it’s happening, and it’s him, and it’s everything.
#willy wonka#wonka#wonka 2023#willy wonka x reader#timothee chalamet#timothée chalamet#timothee chalamet x reader#timothée chalamet x reader#wonka x reader#fanfiction
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based off my own thot because i saw a lack of tentacles in the satosugu/reader tag and took that personally! (i wanted this posted because the brainrot is real right now so apologies if there are any mistakes!)
pairing: satoru/suguru/reader
word count: 1.3k
warnings: TENTACLES BABY, so...shibari-ish by proxy?, vaginal, oral, anal, this throuple do be a little fucked up but that's just jjk territory, satoru and reader seeing orders to kill suguru on sight and straight up saying "that sign can't stop me because i can't read!", some jealousy, a mention of exhibition, suguru lowkey being a daddy, i think that's everything
my thanks to @firefly-graphics for the header! i'm tickled pink by it!
I hate you!
There’s a hum, but you’re still not looked at. “Why, my dearest, are you looking at me like that? I don’t think it was me that put you in this situation.” Suguru flips to the next page in his book. His face hasn’t shifted once since this all started. He still wears that same blasé expression, as if he couldn’t be bothered with any of this. “If anything, I’m helping my sweet girl by teaching her a lesson.” Your adrenaline spikes when you watch him raise a hand. “You need to have a stronger backbone, dear…”
Just as you feared, Suguru flicks his fingers. The cursed spirit shifts as it’s commanded to, and the inky black tentacles move deeper. You didn’t even think that was possible! You breathe harshly through your nose as the heavy weight of the tentacle pushes further down your throat. You still gag. Tears blur your vision but it’s not enough for you not to see that Suguru is finally watching you.
Then, Suguru smirks. It’s that shitty, smug one. It’s bait, of course. It always is. That smirk is always followed by something said that’s so egregious that it makes you act up. And, sure enough, “You can’t keep letting our darling Satoru have his way.”
You’re letting him have his way right now, Suguru!
“Ooh, I know that look.” Suguru reaches out. You think that this is it! He’s finally going to touch you! Instead, he lovingly pets at his new favorite cursed spirit. “Let me guess—you think it’s only him that I’m indulging, is that it?” He chuckles at the widening of your eyes. “Aw, that’s cute. You really thought I wouldn’t find out about what you two little perverts are watching and getting off to together.”
Stalker, you think at him as if he can read your mind. Though, with how deep in your guts his curses are, you’d think that he’d be able to do that. Creep. Pervert. It’s not like these things bother you. You’re as half-mad as Satoru. Suguru makes you both so fucking stupid, so you two get home to your apartment, feeling Suguru’s residuals, and think it’s romantic. Right now, you’re just on the verge of breaking down because Suguru won’t touch you.
“I don’t like this attitude,” Suguru remarks. “Satoru is usually the bratty one. Look at how good he’s being right now.”
Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit! This is bullshit! The only reason he’s being so good right now is because you fucked him stupid, and you know it!
Satoru started this whole thing and he’s getting the praise now?!
In the middle of keeping your face pinned down against the mattress by the back of your neck and snapping his hips against your ass, that bastard had leaned over your back and started whispering in your ear. Let’s drop in on Suguru, hmm? It had been over three months since either of you had seen him. There was always this…unspoken rule that you and Satoru do not interfere in Suguru’s world. But then Satoru said, I hear he hired some bitch to be his assistant. We should totally fuck somewhere that she’ll find us. C’mon, baby, let’s make him pay attention to us.
Alright, yeah, maybe you do need to grow a backbone.
Though…it was really worth it to see that bitch’s face when she walked into Suguru’s office to find your head hanging over the edge of his desk while Satoru ruthlessly pounded into you. It was made all the better when Suguru slammed open the door about thirty minutes later and snapped at her to leave him alone. No matter how close his little cult followers or family get, he’ll only ever be fake smiles with them. And you’re as much a greedy little hedonist as Satoru is, so it’s nearly orgasmic to know that only you and Satoru can see every side of Geto Suguru.
You don’t quite remember what Satoru said when he mouthed off to Suguru. All you remember is that beatific smile of Suguru’s and his sugary sweet voice when he said, I see. I’ve been neglecting my darlings. Let’s go to my room, shall we? If you wanted to see me so badly, I’ll let you see me as much as you want.
Unlike Satoru, you had some sense left for you to nervously think, I’m in danger! Common sense flew out the window when Suguru slid one of those obscenely big hands of his under his yukata to tug it loose, though. You and Satoru followed after him like bitches in heat.
Let you two see him, Suguru definitely has done. You see each other, too. Satoru is the picture definition of lewd right now. You don’t want to imagine what shape you’re in yourself. You’re mirror images. On your knees, kept in the perfect pose by the one tentacle that’s wrapped around your ankles and wrists. It forces your backs to arch, putting your breasts on full display. A tentacle didn’t waste time before it was wrapping around your tits, too. Satoru got tentacles locking around his chest, squeezing so hard as to bring attention to Satoru’s pecs. Sensitive little Satoru started having the suckers of tentacles pluck at his nipples and the strongest sorcerer of the modern age turned into a whimpering mess.
The strongest sorceress of the modern age lost every thought in her head when all her holes got filled. A tentacle down your throat, one of the bigger ones thrusting inside your pussy, and another carefully pushing inside your ass. No prep. Even with the tentacles lubricated with something almost sweet, it burned. That just makes it better. Rough is the default setting when you three have sex. Gentleness only comes when you’ve all burned out that pent-up aggressive energy.
You and Satoru were okay with it, at first. That tentacle monster bursting onto the scene behind Suguru was like a wet dream come true. Hell, you didn’t even complain when Suguru propped himself up against the headboard with a book. None of you are a stranger to some edging.
Then, you and Satoru were two orgasms in, and the tentacles hadn’t budged. Suguru was making no move to do so, either. It’s become clear that Suguru’s affection is a double-edged sword. Suguru will spoil you and Satoru…and will turn right around and mercilessly abuse that gift to punish you both. Because Suguru knows how tactile you and Satoru are. You two crave touch, especially Suguru’s. To be denied it for so long…
Satoru’s lashes are clumped together from his tears. He’s overstimulated, exhausted, and silently begging Suguru with those shining blue eyes to end his suffering. You get pissy, though. The defiance and anger are meant to goad him because even a rough touch is still a touch.
“Ngh!”
Suguru isn’t falling for any of it. He snaps his fingers and the tentacles that he’d forced to stop moving about ten minutes ago start thrusting inside you. Satoru’s shout is muffled by the tentacle he’s been deepthroating. The tentacles go from zero to a hundred, pumping inside you at a pace that you both relish and aren’t ready for. Your eyes roll in the back of your head. Just before you come so hard that you’re convulsing and liquid gushes from your pussy, you feel the splatter of Satoru’s hot come across your thighs.
“Alright. No more playing.” Suguru gets on his knees, shuffling forward. He shoves his pants down in one fluid movement, his thick, massive cock slapping against his abdomen. He grips the base of it, holding it out in Satoru and your direct lines of sight. “Suck me off.” The tentacles in both your mouths slips away, leaving you and Satoru drooling and panting. “If you two can work together and make this real good for me, I’ll come in all your holes. How’s that sound, my loves?”
#my fic#jjk smut#satosugu#satosugu x reader#satosugu smut#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#gojo smut#geto smut#jjk x reader#anime#reader insert#gojo satoru#geto suguru#jjk fanfic#tentacles#!!!!!!!
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IDK IF U WILL SEE THIS OR ANYTHING BUT! is it ok if i request smth small and it starts off with gojo and the reader having a lil bit of banter by text, and the reader then says “satoru ur so pretty u should start a kissing booth for easy money” (as a joke ofc) and he was like “good idea” and went offline, making the reader freak out for the rest of the day until they came back to their apartment….. and found satoru set up a whole kissing booth in their living room
a/n: this is so cute!!! ty for the request anon <3 in this megumi is under satoru’s and reader’s care, tsumiki never went into a coma, and you’re married too / 1.3k
you loved satoru’s compliance. when you tell him that he should never cook again as a joke, he listens with a wide grin and a face that’s burnt on one side, sweeping the hard charcoal pieces of pancake into a pan. when you tell him you have two left feet, he simply laughs and just plops you onto his own, making you look like a fool waddling around.
a lovesick fool.
you’re left smiling into open space until a notification cuts you out of your daze, smile twisting into a questionable expression as your husband sends a picture of him posing in front of some boba tea shop, a promotional banner stating get spanked by one of our staff and get a free cup of boba tea!
[9:17am, the strongest and handsomest and coolest husband 🩵]: bet i’ll do it
[9:18am, delivered]: satoru. now. youll do it even if i dont bet you???!!?!!?!!
[9:18am, the strongest and handsomest and coolest husband 🩵]: hmm… compelling argument, i’m afraid you’re correct
a few minutes pass and you are confident it’s him asking for a spank with a blinding smile on his face, probably pointing to one of the male staff because i have a wife at home, y’know? she’s so pretty and hot-headed and hot and—
[9:20am, the strongest and handsomest and coolest husband 🩵]: photo attached
boba acquired 😈😈😈😈
[9:21am, the strongest and handsomest and coolest husband 🩵]: oh yeah, one of the staff called me pretty. was a guy btw. had to flash him one of my peace signs and i just know he swooned
the raise of your eyebrows returned, though you stifle a chuckle.
[9:21am, delivered]: he did not swoon i promise you
and another picture comes in, his face all up in the camera with a comical pout on his face and your laughter comes out more freely this time, basically hearing the looks you’re getting from the commuters in the subway, though your eyes are only focused on satoru, on the curvature of his lips and the peek of his baby blues behind the sunglasses you bought for him.
[9:22am, delivered]: joking. you’re so pretty, you know that right
years ago you would’ve told yourself that it’ll only fuel his ego, but that was long before gojo satoru had decided you were everything and more; where he values everything you say, where you’re all he worships. one compliment from you could shut him up forever.
[9:23am, delivered]: you should totally start a kissing booth for like …. $4 a kiss or something
it’ll be easy money ngl and then we can share the gains
[9:23am, the strongest and handsomest and coolest husband 🩵]: woah… good idea baby. alright then!
and gojo satoru goes offline immediately, leaving you left out in the cold, confused and perplexed when the satoru??? where the hell did you go??? texts fail to be read. it’s not often he does it, usually sending you a plethora of hearts or some stupid ugly sticker before the conversation ends. on the way to the school, you’re continually texting him, too, looking way more distracted than you would like to be in front of the students.
“sensei? any reason why you keep checking your phone?” yuji asks after lunch in the classroom, both arms tucked under his head.
“hm?” you answer but your eyes are still glued to the screen, the taunting ‘last seen at 9:23am’ taunting you endlessly and megumi looks like he has half a mind to just blurt it out, but he thinks it’s worth seeing your reaction later as he takes one more look at his adoptive father’s updates, sending picture after picture of his progress and he keeps the device tucked under to avoid any suspicion.
[14:09pm, my terrible father figure i guess]: do NOT !!!! SEND THIS TO MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE . i wll literally humiliate you in training later if you do
megumi sighs.
[14:10pm delivered]: don’t you already? also stop texting me loser she’ll find out
the raven-haired boy later is left to comfort you later when you’re holding onto the phone a little too tightly, and by then you’ve already gone through every possible thought. satoru dying, satoru meeting a curse that’s higher than a special grade, satoru on a rampage to kill the higher-ups, satoru—
“you’re going to die worrying about gojo-sensei like that.” and you roll your eyes, hand fishing around in your bag for the keys to your shared home while your eyes never leave megumi. it’s been like this for as long as you can remember: you being the voice of reason, megumi taking your rambles like he always has, gojo usually just laughs.
“yeah? well? how could i not?” you fumble with your keys and pick out the right one, putting it in the keyhole easily from the many times you’ve done it and you swing open the door, “not when he’s the strongest who has to take care of so many things without any rest! what if he got distracted and took down infinity? what if he—”
and sometimes you hated gojo’s compliance (you’re lying to yourself).
upon opening the door, the living room was full of cardboard boxes and cut out shapes, paint over the floor and on his jujutsu uniform, an all-knowing, but still stunning grin that you wanted to slap off of him. the chaos of the cardboard led to one thing: a small counter completed with a tip jar, his free cup of boba tea and a large sign that said kissing booth: $4 for a smooch!
and a smaller sentence is parenthesis, ‘free for my baby.’ the statement almost, almost gets you but you manage to ask him in a monotonous voice, “what are you doing, gojo satoru?”
“hi…?” megumi smiles secretly to himself before closing the door for you, putting the keys in your outstretched hand and it’s sort of the routine the three of you fall into everyday now. alas, with tsumiki staying in her university’s dorms, it was a little lonely for megumi, but the two of you were enough entertainment for him.
“well i was just listening to you!” gojo gestured to the whole place, which will probably be a pain to clean up, “who can blame my silly little brain for wanting to do a project to make my wife happy?”
you cross your arms in retaliation, but in all honestly, you wanted nothing but to greet the sorcerer with an embrace, something you’ve been meaning to do since your worrisome attitude from the morning. reluctantly, you frown while you make your way to the makeshift counter, immediately leaning forward before satoru puts a finger on your lips with a teasing smile.
“ah! four dollars please!”
bonus
“i was really worried, y’know,” the words are muffled from the way you’re buried in his neck that night, inhaling the scent that you missed all day. it’s summer in japan at the moment, but you find yourself craving his skin more than ever, a hand going up to brush through his stark white hair.
“’m sorry, baby,” satoru pulls away from you, as with you, sending you a small smile before pecking your forehead, “i promise to tell you what i’m up to from now on.”
you lean forward to close the gap, and all the kisses you exchanged earlier were definitely not enough. softly, your arms wrap around his shoulders while a leg goes over his body, gojo sounding out a little surprised hum at your eagerness. smiling into the kiss, satoru only plants more kisses to your nose, your lids, to your eyebrows and your chin, and another gentle one to your lips.
“even if it’s arts and crafts or maybe attempting to make you some strawberry tarts.”
you slap his chest lightly, a faux shocked expression filling your features, “i thought we agreed no more strongest sorcerer in the kitchen?”
“of course, sweet girl,” satoru lands one last deep kiss to show you truly the extent of his love. but even then, he knew it wasn’t enough, so he hoped, at least his words were, “i only ever listen to your voice — none else matters.”
i love him
#anon#asks#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fluff#jjk scenarios#jjk drabbles#jjk x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo fluff#gojo x reader#gojo satoru fluff#gojou satoru x reader#satoru gojo headcanons#satoru gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jjk headcanons
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Late night halloween interruptions
Yoo Jimin x Producer!reader
Synopsis: being one of Aespa’s main producers and songwriters meant having to work restlessly to deliver the best track of the year— even if it meant sacrificing a Halloween night out. however, focusing on work turns out to be rather difficult when a certain blonde idol keeps distracting you from your goals.
Warnings: smut, nsfw
Word count: 2.9k
Notes: you better wish I have a great fckn test thursday and friday. plus I didn’t proofread it and I WILL NOT. I still stuck at writing smut and I’m angry. also happy early halloween <3 blonderina lives forever in my mind and now in yours, too. ps: this was originally dom!reader but I changed my mind so it’s just a mess.
You were busy with the computer in front of you when you heard the click of the door, despite your heavy headphones. The soft, almost unnoticeable sound made you turn your chair to face the stranger who disturbed your work and dared to annoy you long after your work hours, late at night at the firm.
It wasn’t a total stranger, though. Staring back at you was Yoo Jimin, looking as angelic as always with her plump, rosy lips and porcelain skin. She had a sneaky smile on her face, tracing your desk with her featherlight fingers as she looked for any signs of dust.
“What do you want, Karina?” Your words came out harsh, unlike you intended to, but you still didn’t apologize. You could feel the tiredness wearing down your bones, the disturbance reminding you of the reason you were up so late in one of the company’s many music studios in the first place: so you wouldn’t be bothered at all.
Yet, she found you. You didn’t expect any less, with Karina hunting you down ever since she first laid her eyes on you, the day you were announced as one of the songwriters and record producers for the group’s latest comeback. Being only four years older, your lack of age made it easy to bond with all the girls: it gave them confidence to join in the making of their songs, too, getting deeply involved in the whole process of their comeback. The four band members trusted you and loved having you around, confiding their feelings and running to you whenever they felt bad or insecure. They all looked up to you— you knew it as much, and because of that, you were always pushing yourself to be the best, hardworking version of yourself you could.
Which was why you were always making sure to listen to their wishes and give them feedbacks on their ideas, so they’d grow as idols and song producers. You might not be as old in age as most of the producers in the industry, but you’ve already had your handful of successful collabs with well-known artists who did nothing but essentially praise you: you were skilled, and knew what you were doing, so it was only natural you exchanged some of your experiences with the girls.
Nonetheless, said closeness allowed the blonde girl to often stare at you like you were the only possible prey for a wolf who’s never eaten in its entire existence. Provocative dances, gifting your coffee orders each morning, stupid questions that kept you busy with her for hours, when you should be working… She certainly made your life difficult, toying with you while you tried as hard as you could not to indulge the idol. It was forbidden for employees to hook up with the company’s celebrities, after all, and you couldn’t risk losing your job.
“Good night to you, too, Y/n.” She greeted you, eyes darting around the place attentively. To make sure you were alone, most certainly. Jimin’s eyes lit up when her assumptions turned out right, happy to see you weren’t hiding some low-class hookup in the room. No, she’d have none of that. “I was just looking for you. You’re missing from the party.”
SM’s traditional Halloween party, currently happening many levels down the recording and mixing room, was one of the many fancy ballrooms hosted by the company at any given chance with intents to show off its supremacy and, of course, hegemony in the musical field. Your friends and coworkers tried getting you to attend multiple times, but you had shrugged them off. You liked hanging out with them, naturally, but not enough to put on a stupid costume and make small talk with preposterous, shallow people for hours straight. So you denied all the invites, knowing your presence wouldn’t be missed at all: they knew how to party by themselves, beyond everything.
As Karina reminded you of the current event, you took some time to take a proper look at her. Wearing a corset that enunciated her curves and the traditional red cape, along with heavy, black makeup contrasting perfectly with her long, blonde hair, Karina was impeccably dressed as Red Riding Hood. She’d even brought the damn basket with her, currently left hanging in the corner of the room.
She’d grown accustomed to the idol life, you noticed as the blonde stared at you with delight and confidence, certainly not innocent nor shy anymore as when she met you, nearly two years ago.
The old Karina would never wear such a thing. It made her stand out too much, and she loathed it, to have all of the attention and the stares focused solely on her. You still remember that same girl at last year’s Halloween party: dressed as a witch, wearing one of Minjeong’s old costumes, observing the older subaenims and idols with curious, scared doe eyes. Innocent, even.
And the young woman who looked at you like she was ready to devour you whole was anything but.
Karina didn’t mind your lack of manners, though. Leaning on your mixing table as if she owned it, she tried again, “Aren’t you coming to the party? Really? Come on, it’s Halloween! Don’t be so boring and live life for once, for God’s sake.”
You scoffed, coughing hard enough that you had to take a sip of your water to cool yourself, “The party’s for idols and shareholders.”
“And employees too, silly head.” She answered just as quickly, with a broad smile, dismissing all the dryness in your tone. This time, the look in her eyes reminded you of the Karina she truly was: tender, cautious, almost delicate. “I have a spare outfit, in case you want to keep the theme. You’d be the wolf, then.”
You turned your computer off, narrowing your eyes at her. Her intentions weren’t subtle: it was just as clear as clear water for anyone to see, but you couldn’t help it. You just had to have her begging.
For months, you’ve imagined what those pretty lips would look like all messed up with your juices, bruised from your bites and kisses. The thought of it being forbidden only fuels you with the need to ruin her even more. It makes you itch with how much you want to carve your name onto her skin, leaving her as nothing but a whimpering mess until no one— not even herself, could please her anymore. Only you would be capable of bringing her over the edge, from then. Your most feverish wish was to ruin her for anyone else.
You wouldn’t do it, though. It was forbidden, as said before, and you could lose your job for that. So, naturally, you wouldn’t.
She was fucking testing you, though.
“What do you want, Karina?” You repeated yourself, tone incisive, and yet she didn’t let go.
She was having fun with her girls before searching for you. It was her first year attending the party as an official idol, just as she’d always dreamed of. Nothing would piss her off, and she would get what she wanted.
And currently, what she wanted was to have the pretty producer everyone was whispering about around the hallways all to herself.
“It’s Jimin to you, Y/n.” She mumbled, brushing her legs over your arms. Her touch was gentle and patient, making you close your hands into fists to avoid pulling her by the ankles and taking her right in the mixing table. “And I just wanted to check if you wanted to have fun.”
“And it is unnie for you, dearest.” You reminded her, making the girl roll her eyes. She always made sure to forget to use honorifics when alone with you. “I am your producer, darling.” You added, pushing your chair a bit further and managing to keep some distance between the two of you. “So drop whatever plans you have and find someone else to toy with. I’m not falling for it, baby.”
No matter how desperately you wanted to bend her over the table and fuck her senseless.
Your words made her irritated, with Karina’s angelic face furrowing into an angry pout, as it often did when people didn’t immediately indulge her wishes.
A Spoiled princess, indeed.
“Come on, drop that superior shit.” She rolled her eyes, laying on her elbows without a care about the number of electronics placed over the mixing table. The angle favored her costume, and her perfect breasts, just as intended. You gulped, trying hard not to stare, knowing you’d be doomed if you did.
It was nearly impossible, though. To not drop to your knees and immediately indulge to all her wishes. Karina had always had this sweet, dangerous nature: with light kisses and faked innocency, she toyed with people as she wanted, making them give her it all, which they’d always gladly do. How could they not? When she was so polite and attentive, making sure to pay attention to whatever shit they were saying as if it were the most interesting matter in the world.
You know her better than that, though. Better than to participate in her game, no matter how fucking hot she looked.
You’ve always been told it was hard to know what went through your mind, since your face was always blank and serious, almost disinterested. Taking advantage of that, you smiled back at the defiant girl in front of you, placing your arms in each of her sides, but careful not to touch her.
The anticipation drove her crazy, you knew that much as you felt her shiver under you.
Karina hated how, at the moment, she was the one who felt like the prey. Although it thrilled her to feel like she was not fully in control of the situation, it also irritated her for a bit. However, she knew she’d get what she wanted in the end, of course, so she didn’t mind playing with her food for a bit.
“What do you want, darling?” You repeated yourself, using the same indulgent tone you do when talking to her and the girls about their new songs.
Patient, sweet, and attentive, just like you were during work hours and outside of them.
“I wanted to know if you were going to have some fun, finally. But I see the years have made you as boring as the others. Come on, unnie! Don’t I look pretty?” She managed to recompose herself, returning your smile with a venomous one.
“I won’t pamper you. If that’s what you want, go to your little followers. They’d be more than happy to tell you lies.” Your face was so close to hers, yet your words stated the opposite of how you felt.
Truthfully, your cunt ached, and your heart was beating so fast you were afraid Karina might hear.
That little prey-game aroused you just as much as it did to her. It was a euphoric feeling, one that blew out your pupils and made the blood run through your veins, giving you that good kind of rush. Only Karina could make you feel such emotions without even touching you.
She was fucking gorgeous, and you wanted every single inch of her for yourself.
“So I’m not beautiful tonight?” She batted her lashes, arms resting on her sides like a crystal princess. “I’ve tried my best to look pretty. I’ve always wanted to be Red for Halloween, after all.”
“Do you like to be a prey, Jimin?” You opened a teasing smile, no longer sustaining your uninterested persona. Your fingers teased her collarbone, making the girl drop her head back to appreciate the touch.
You were doomed. Likewise, you knew that the moment she entered the room.
“To be desired.” She corrected, hands comfortably on your arms like she’s been doing this forever. “Chased, even. It’s fun.” She faced you, suddenly serious. “Will we have fun, Y/n-nie?” Those innocent fucking doe eyes of hers, staring expectantly at you.
You sigh, pulling her onto your lap as you inhaled her sickening perfume. Dangerous and sweet, lingering on her skin. You’d soon make it disappear, leaving her whole body drenched in sweat.
Just as she planned for you to.
Grabbing her beautiful corset, you took your time untying the lace before finally looking at her delicate frame.
God, you were going to ruin her little body entirely, until she was writhing and yelling for you to stop. “One time, and one time only. Got it?” She nodded, seaming pleased enough with your answer.
She’d carve her way onto your brain nice and slow, no worries. So, for now, a one-night stand would suffice.
“Just this once.” She hid her face in the crook of your neck, giggling with delight to have her wishes granted.
You finally gave in to your carnal wishes and kissed her, hard and urgently. You’d let her win, just once.
Because it’s Halloween, and she is indeed the most beautiful fucking woman you’ve ever seen.
-
“H-harder, Y/n. Fuck!” Karina moaned loudly, nails scratching your back to the point where thick red lines adorned your whole back. “Deeper, now.”
Like a queen, she demanded, making you roll your eyes. Her face was all fucked out, her hair unraveled and sweaty from the pounding, and she was absolutely sure her hips, ass and thighs would be all bruised from the way you were gripping them, carving the strap onto her as you made Karina your own personal fucktoy.
“You’re sure too demanding for someone someone who was begging to be filled minutes ago.” You taunted, carving yourself into the girl even deeper. Her hands were interlocked on your neck and her legs did the same to your waist, trying to steady herself at the intensity. “You know how much of a whore you are, right? Going up all those floors by yourself with that fucking strap in your basket just so I could have free use of all your holes.”
“Shut up.” She squeezed her eyes, gasping for air as your hands blocked her pulse point, down her neck. “God, you’re so full of yourself.”
You laughed at her brattiness: she’d never give up, truly. Removing your hands from her skin, you opened her thighs so the strap could reach deeper onto her sweet spot— which it clearly did, as Karina announced so herself. Her wetness was nearly drenching the whole table, making the sound of your thrusts even louder as you placed your fingers on her clit, not yet moving but applying just the right amount of pressure.
“Keep acting up and you won’t get to cum.” You told her, your free hand going up to pinch one of her voluptuous breasts. They were so bouncy and pretty, you just wanted to suck and mark them until there was not a visible inch of her milky skin that wasn’t covered in bruises.
Karina opened her dark eyes, being surprisingly gentle as her teeth scratched your lips. She sucked on your lower lip and, before you had any time to acknowledge, she bit it hard. You drew back, surprised, making her laugh.
“Oh, Y/n-nie,” She licked the blood from your lips, smiling at your reaction. With an unfazed gaze, the girl guided your wrist on her clit, urging you to play with it faster and even harder. She gave your cheek a little kiss, too, adding, “You’re damn cute when you think you’re the one in control.”
You hummed, deciding to focus on Karina’s pleasure instead of indulging the silly provocations she so adored to lead on. With that, you did as told, paying extra attention to her little hole as you returned to your pace, circling and toying with the blonde’s swollen sex until her body began to tremble and she collapsed under you, reaching her orgasm unannounced. You fucked her through it, allowing the dancer to gather her breath and enjoy the final hum of sensations.
Even completely flustered, Karina still looked gorgeous: her body all marked and bruised, a piece of art— your art, and her cunt wet and swollen, still all opened and ready for you.
“You look too pretty like this.” You breathed, verbalizing your thoughts before thinking straight, to which she let out a smile, extending her hand so you’d help her hop off the table.
“I know.” The girl playfully winked at you as her arms found your waist, embracing you in an spontaneous hug.
Of course, you should’ve guessed nothing Karina does is ever not carefully planned. In a second, you find yourself sitting on your chair and she was all over you, now taking her turn into marking her territory. Her mouth sucked and nibbled your clavicle until a line of hickeys are proudly shown, along with her scratches. You don’t mind, though. In fact, you love to have her using you as she wishes, her possessiveness heating up your core at each dirty thing she told you.
“You’re pretty gorgeous yourself, too, you know.” Although her tone is light, the murmur that follows is dense and drenched in possessiveness, “We’ll have to fix that, soon. No one can stare at my pretty toy like they currently do.”
“You wish, Karina.”
“I do, my love.” She licked her lips, groping your body like a woman starved. “Now lay down for me, will you? I’m quite hungry, and I need a taste of you.”
You scoffed at her words and the excessive sweetness in her tone, but as always, did as told.
Just for tonight, you reminded yourself. You’d relent to her wishes just for tonight. And only because it was Halloween, and you were working hard. You deserved a treat.
#aespa x you#aespa x fem reader#aespa x reader#aespa smut#aespa scenarios#aespa karina#yoo jimin#karina x reader#karina smut#yu jimin#karina aespa#karina aespa smut#yoo jimin smut#yu jimin smut#yoo jimin x reader#yu jimin x reader#sol writes#sol’s works
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Thicker Than - Monthly Update
Happy full moon everyone! I hope you had a great month.
I've updated the public Thicker Than demo:
You can play it here.
Please let me know what you think.
I’ve been mostly working on Chapter Six this month. It’s still early stages, but I’m hoping it’ll be really fun when it’s finished. I also fixed up some issues with existing chapters (eg, added new paths to get to certain scenes etc.) which was something I’ve been meaning to do for a while.
However, overall, I’m not very happy with this update. It’s really short, and a lot of it I think needs to be reworked and fixed up.
Real life has been a bit messy recently, which I think is why I haven’t been writing as well as I usually do.
But, even though I’m not 100% happy with the update, I still wanted to share it just to show my progress and keep getting feedback. I’m really grateful for all your encouragement and the ideas you’ve been sending my way. There are some I haven’t had time to implement yet, but they’re on the list of things I’d like to do.
Here is the link to my KoFi page if you'd like to support me or sign up for weekly updates.
Happy hunting, vamps. 💙
Update details:
As of the 27th of November 2023
Added more scenes to Chapter Six
Added new achievements
Several bug and spelling fixes
Additional Words: 15,365 (excluding commands)
Total Word Count: 148,336 (excluding commands )
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