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#like that sounds so weird having just read my written words

radioactive-earthshine · 6 months

Text

Writing tips for long fics that helped me that no one asked for.

1.) Don't actually delete content from your WIP unless it is minor editing - instead cut it and put it in a secondary document. If you're omitting paragraphs of content, dialog, a whole scene you might find a better place for it later and having it readily available can really save time. Sometimes your idea was fantastic, but it just wasn't in the right spot.

2.) Stuck with wording the action? Just write the dialog then revisit it later.

3.) Stuck on the whole scene? Skip it and write the next one.

4.) Write on literally any other color than a white background. It just works. (I use black)

5.) If you have a beta, while they are beta-ing have them read your fic out loud. Yes, I know a lot of betas/writers do not have the luxury of face-timing or have the opportunity to do this due to time constraints etc but reading your fic out loud can catch some very awkward phrasing that otherwise might be missed. If you don't have a beta, you read it out loud to yourself. Throw some passion into your dialog, you might find a better way to word it if it sounds stuffy or weird.

6.) The moment you have an idea, write it down. If you don't have paper or a pen, EMAIL it to yourself or put it in a draft etc etc. I have sent myself dozens of ideas while laying down before sleep that I 10/10 forgot the next morning but had emailed them to myself and got to implement them.

7.) Remember - hits/likes/kudos/comments are not reflective of the quality of your fic or your ability to write. Most people just don't comment - even if they say they do, they don't, even if they preach all day about commenting, they don't, even if they are a very popular blog that passionately reminds people to comment - they don't comment (I know this personally). Even if your fic brought tears to their eyes and it haunted them for weeks and they printed it out and sent it to their friends they just don't comment. You just have to accept it. That being said - comment on the fic you're reading now, just do it, if you're 'shy' and that's why you don't comment the more you comment the better you'll get at it. Just do it.

8.) Remove unrealistic daily word count goals from your routine. I've seen people stress 1500 - 2000 words a day and if they don't reach that they feel like a failure and they get discouraged. This is ridiculous. Write when you can, but remove absurd goals. My average is 500 words a day in combination with a 40 hour a week job and I have written over 200k words from 2022-2023.

9.) There are dozens of ways to do an outline from precise analytical deconstruction that goes scene by scene to the minimalist bullet point list - it doesn't matter which one you use just have some sort of direction. A partial outline is better than no outline.

10.) Write for yourself, not for others. Write the fic you know no one is going to read. Write the fic that sounds ridiculous. You will be so happy you put it out in the world and there will be people who will be glad it exists.

#writing tips #writing advice #writing tools #writing help #writing resources

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ressonancee · 4 months

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I THINK WE MARRIED IN VEGAS

✷ You and Jeonghan have always been friends, and friends go on a trip together, right? And somehow friends always end up marrying in Las Vegas right? And somehow friends become roommates as well right? That all seems very normal when Yoon Jeonghan has a weird addiction to doing the dumbest things ever just for shock value.

✷ genre: comedy (?), angst, smut (minors don't interact)

✷ word count: 28.244

✷ featuring: Yoon Ttoram, Choi Seungcheol, Lee Seokmin, Kim Mingyu as the unnamed satan-spit roommate one night stand, and Xu Minghao as the gothic impasto painter guy.

✷ thea’s note: hey y’all this is my longest fic yet so I’m weirdly proud. I had fun writing this and trying to figure out how to build this Jeonghan and yes I did rewatched the birth of Ttoram while writing this. By the way - love you guys but the whole credit/debt/buying a house is just for plot I do not know how any of this works in America (and it is mainly set in America because I needed Vegas lol) <3 So bear with it. Also thanks to @wongyuuu for keeping me company in this nanowimo challenge, and thaks to @toruro Mika you are the best <3 thank you for reading this

✷ Smut warnings under the read more ✷

✷ smut count: lost count of how many times Jeonghan thought he was going to cum on his pant, 1 dick sucked, teenagers level of horniness, non penetrative sex still sex, a lot of kissing, a 3 second of cumplay still a cumplay i guess.

"Should we do it?" you hear Jeonghan ask, his face focused on something outside the car’s window. The lights of all the neon signs dance on his face and features—like a scene from a movie. He looks tired and overworked even though you are somewhat on vacation.

"Do what?" you ask, trying to understand what he meant. Maybe he was talking about a hotel spa and you missed the beginning of the sentence because you were too lost in your own thoughts? Yeah, a message would be a lifesaver right now.

"That," he says, pointing at one of the hundreds of little chapels in Las Vegas. This one has a deal sign in big and bold letters—an Elvis Presley priest, a bouquet, a professional photographer, and a bottle of champagne for half the price. Well, you never thought about off-season in Vegas, but maybe business was a little rough at this time of the year, but to be quite honest that did seem like a great deal—the shopaholic in you would fall for it if it didn’t involve marriage.

"Are you drunk already?" you ask. Even though you have known the man for years, you still can’t read Jeonghan properly.

Sometimes you think about how he is a book that is written in a different language, and you couldn’t have access to him without a dictionary on the side. Jeonghan does look like a classic—he is well put together, he is fancy, and he would be one of those books that have an embellished spine—the prettiest book on your bookshelf. But at the same time, he is one of those books that need commentaries on every page because somehow the author didn't care about giving enough context or didn't think his work would survive so many years. And one that the storylines end up being totally fucked up, so basically a Russian classical.

"No, I'm painfully sober," Jeonghan says while leaning his head on the window of the car. It almost makes you laugh when you hear the loud sound of him bumping his head, even the Uber driver who didn’t utter a word turns his head back. "It's just," he starts again, "I heard Seungcheol talking about it, and it seems nice to be married."

"What are you talking about?” you say in disbelief, “Seungcheol is not married yet, he is having a bachelor party in Vegas. He is drinking his weight in alcohol and spending the college tuition of his firstborn in the casino. You and him know about the same thing about marriage, which equals barely anything."

“Yeah but he did talk about all the perks—Oh thank you,” he notices that the Uber finally arrived at the hotel feat casino and all the Vegas shenanigans. Jeonghan holds the car door for you, like a true gentleman—you almost scoff. “What I was trying to say is, Seungcheol did talk to me about being married, it doesn’t feel like a bad deal at all.” Again, he holds the door for you.

“So we should just get married in Vegas because Seungcheol said it is a great deal?” you ask Jeonghan like he said the stupidest thing ever, which is partially true. It was one of the stupidest things he’d ever said to you, and you’ve known the man for years—you’ve witnessed a fair amount of his stupidity, all laced with his all-knowing smile. Every time you tried to understand what he was talking about it always left you feeling like this man was insane.

“I mean? What would you lose?” Jeonghan asked, crossing his arms after pushing the elevator buttons—one for your room, the other one so the door closes faster (he is one of those people).

“A lot?” you say almost laughing. What the fuck? It resonates in your mind, almost like the words are bumping the walls of your cranium, like the old Windows 98 screensaver logo.

“Yeah? Like what?” Jeonghan asks and the ping of the elevator makes sure both of you know that it arrived before opening the door.

“Freedom,” you say, trying to stay normal and not succumb to Jeonghan—you both hear someone saying,“Hold!” across the hall. Jeonghan just smiles and clicks the button to close the door. Maniac really, without basic education. To be fair though, it was a frat dude with another frat dude who could wait for the next elevator without dying, but still.

“Come on, you are a book editor. You love everything that has nothing to do with freedom, you love rules and everything that shackles you.” You scoff hearing Jeonghan’s words.

You want to argue, you want to kick and scream and pick a fight because is he basically calling you boring right? He is totally calling you the most boring person he’s ever met, and you are in Vegas - and still, somehow, you are the boring girl. But he is right about it—you do not leave your comfort zone, you do not do crazy very well, and you don’t even drink that much because losing control of situations makes you slightly insane. And Jeonghan is right because he is one of your closest friends, and you talked about it with him, he even knows how this is a recurrent topic in your therapy. Asshole.

“Well, still don’t give me the urge to marry you, your sales points are awful—how do you hold your job?” You ask side eyeing your friend, well, if you wanted to marry someone calling them boring is not the right way to do it.

“I do a better job when I need to sell to investors, I’m not giving my all right now since you are not paying me,” Jeonghan says, leaving the elevator and looking back at you. Well, not giving your all when you are asking someone for marriage - number two mistake.

“I’d hope so, otherwise your name would be number one in the next layoff,” you say rolling your eyes.

“Come on,” Jeonghan scoffs. “You didn’t hear Seungcheol talking about the benefits," he says, opening the door to your shared hotel door. The deal was to sleep in a weird hotel that may have bedbugs or share a room and a bed with Jeonghan in a more upscale hotel whose bathroom didn’t look like a crime scene. Not a difficult decision, to be quite honest.

“Is Seungcheol now a pro-marriage coach?” you ask, taking off your shoes and leaving your bag on the nearest chair.

“Probably, I mean, the side money would be crazy,” he says, taking off his watch and leaning against the table, again crossing his arms. “What I meant is did you ever think about the tax deduction, health insurance benefits, leave benefits? Also, Seungcheol did remind me that the bank raises the chance of getting approved credits if the spouse has a great credit history.”

“Yet he is the one marrying because he loves his girlfriend,” you remind Jeonghan, because apparently he is forgetting one the key ingredients of marriage in contemporary societies - love, affection, and a dose of “I love you but leaving with you every time you forget the toothpaste open is making me thinking about how life in hell would look like.”

“Right,” Jeonghan scoffs, making you even more curious.

“What would you need credits for?” you ask. Jeonghan is an unmarried and childless man, who works on investments, travels twice a year, and has a car. You on the other hand work in a crumbling industry - books, who reads books? - don’t travel a lot and your car is like twelve years old.

“Marry me and I tell you,” Jeonghan answered without letting the ball drop, quick on his feet like always, you could never catch this man.

“Tell me and I will think about it,” You try to pry.

“A house.” He says earnestly.

Again - you know Jeonghan, and you know your friend is a lunatic, but you also know when he is being completely honest with you. The man did want that house, which was completely weird. Jeonghan was a city guy, he was living in a rented apartment sure, but it was a great apartment, it even had a view. He worked downtown, why would he need a house?

“A house?” You try again, trying to get more details of what the heck is making your friend go crazy out of a sudden.

“Yeah, a house.” He says shrugging like it is the most common thing ever, maybe it is a well-known scheme of marrying for taxes and credits that you don’t know, maybe you are late. Maybe you are outdated putting together marriage and love in the same sentence, maybe, the world has changed. “Will you marry me?” Jeonghan asks you in his dullest voice ever like he is tired and completely bored.

“No.” You deadpan.

“Come on, at least pretend that you are thinking about it,” Jeonghan says, lying on the bed horizontally, his face is now closer to you and his legs are too big so they hang out of the bed, like a kid almost. “It has four bedrooms so you can move and say fuck you to Laurel the accountability girl.”

Well, that makes you think about it. He should have started with that. Maybe if he just proposed a new roommate scheme you would’ve said yes in the uber.

“I don't hate her that much,” you lied through your teeth, you hated that girl. You blamed the real state crisis because the rent was crazy, sharing the apartment was a good deal on paper, and half of the rent money went to your savings account so you could live in peace - Jeonghan actually advised you on how to save and where to invest if you wanted to retire quickly, but you never really thought about buying shares and selling shares and the whole ordeal.

“Fuck you,” He laughs, “every week I have to hear you complain how she lets food go bad and how it leaves your fridge stinky enough to make you almost puke, and that only happens when she doesn't food go bad on the kitchen counter or wait, do you remember when she forgets to lock the door two times last week?”

“Well, I am sorry if I have listened to true crimes podcast enough to be actually aware of the horrors of being a woman and how serial killers are out there just waiting for you to sleep with the fucking door open,” you say like you are the most reasonable person ever.

“And you are right, what I am saying is that I would lock the door so no one can enter the house, I would be a better roommate.”

“Sure we do not have to marry to be roommates we can look for suitable places in our price range,”

“Look at this,” Yoon Jeonghan says, fiddling with his phone, “It has four bedrooms, three and a half bathrooms, the kitchen is great, it has a backyard and a solarium.”

“Fuck-” You say, sitting on the bed, your thigh close enough to his arm that you feel the warmth of his skin, “that’s, that's crazy.”

“I know,” he says turning on the bed and closing his hand on his stomach like he is dead, just staring at the ceiling, “The price is not bad either, one of my clients is trying to sell so he can invest in a new startup so it is not actually in the market right now but will be in a few weeks so-”

“Did you try to get the loan?” You ask, finger still going on his phone looking at different pics of this completely perfect house. All the rooms were big, and with natural light - crazy. The Solarium looked like a thing out of this world. And you could see yourself living there, if you had enough money you could live the dream, but that house was just out of your price range. God, with that garden you could have a dog. Damn.

“I don't want to pay interest to a bank,” Jeonghan almost whines, because he knows how this whole thing works and how he would have to pay the loan and half of the loan because banks are greedy bastards.

“Can I have two bedrooms?”

“What do you need two bedrooms for?” Jeonghan asks, finally looking at you and dropping his i-am-almost-dead act.

“My room, one office,” you explain. You know the office would be the one with two larger windows facing the garden. Oh what a joy - to build a life you would never live, it was indeed one of your favorite hobbies, maybe that’s why you love books so much.

“Ok, I guess. I can make something out of the basement.” Jeonghan replies nonchalantly making you laugh.

Maybe that’s why you two were friends, you had a great time speaking nonsense to one another. You both just kept feeding into whatever fantasy you built, like reality could not touch everything. You and Jeonghan had this weird pattern of just sitting, eating and talking for hours and hours about whatever that had nothing to do with the truth. What would you do if you won the lottery? What would you do when you retire? What would you do if you woke up on a desert island? What would you do if your boss was imprisoned for embezzlement? Ok not the last one, scratch that, this one actually happened.

“I can give you 5% of the price tag, and we can share the loan if it matches my current rent price range, but we need to actually draft something with a lawyer later so we can only sell the house to ourselves, I don’t trust you enough to buy this house without a lawyer on my side.”

“Dude-” Jeonghan jerks on the bed, he sits and turns his body to face you. “Wait, do you hate Laurel that much?”

“Yoon Jeonghan, do you want a marriage to up your credit score or what? I paid my student loans in record time, the banks love me.”

“I don’t know if you are joking or not,” He tells you.

"Can you call room service?" You ask heading to the bathroom, while you tie your hair - like you are preparing yourself for a dire work task - maybe talk to a translator about a deadline, they are worse than writers, "I think we will need more alcohol."

"Wait," you hear Jeonghan's voice echo through the door, "are we actually gonna do it?"

You are joking.

And you know Jeonghan was too. With the years of knowing him, you knew that the majority of things that left Jeonghan's mouth had a shock value purpose. Induce distress first, we talk about truth later - or never. That made you 100% sure that you would never marry that man. You knew him enough - twelve years, since high school. He knew you as well - he knew all your teenage traumas, all of your romance fiasco, and he met all of your exes.

You would never, never, marry that man.

Right?

Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

When you open your eyes and the white ceiling greets you, you can hear yourself groaning almost involuntarily. Your head aches. You know you will regret everything that happened the night before, even though you don't know what actually happened, and what you need to hold yourself accountable for. But you know the taste of a life-changing hangover that has a side dish of regret and a cup of shame to go. But it couldn’t possibly be so bad right?

Ok, maybe moving your body was not the very first thing to do. You try to open your eyes again. Well, at least you were in your own hotel room. Jeonghan is by your side, his arm across your stomach and somehow his face is near your armpit. You try to sniffle yourself, but so far doesn't like you are actually stinky. Your deodorant was doing a great job so far, maybe it actually has a 24-hour action or something like that.

You try to lift yourself up, sitting in the bed, head in hand because everything spins. Oh God help you. Besides the headache you feel sticky and sweaty, and all gross. You can't believe you didn't shower, and if you didn't shower you didn't take your makeup off, and if you didn't take your makeup off you totally threw your 43-day steak of doing your skincare routine. Fuck. Maybe you could just delete the app, or pretend that yesterday never happened. Deal with the blank day that screams how bad you fucked up was not an option though, it would never happen.

“What the fuck did we drink?” You hear Jeonghan's hoarse voice. You take the hands off your eyes, the clarity feels like punching your cornea and brain, and Jeonghan's state is not very different from yours, his shirt is open and ruffled, his arms are shielding his eyes from the light entering the room, his hair is messy and he looks like he needed four days of sleep.

“Fuel? Petrol? Satan spit in a cup?” You answer dropping yourself on the bed again, every joint of your body aches. It is ridiculous how you feel trapped in a 90 years old body, and like that is not enough you feel nauseated beyond words. And every time you can feel and hear Jeonghan breathing it feels like it is piercing your skull, would be rude to ask your friend to stop breathing and just stay completely still? He would understand, right?

“Do you think room service can get us some painkillers?” He groans lifting himself up this time, “Or maybe a gun?”

“Can you call them? I think I will puke if I sit for more than half a minute,” you say, your hand going into your mouth as if it would actually help if the worst-case scenario happened.

“I think I can, the problem is that you need to get me the phone,” Jeonghan tells you groaning between words. His hand points to the object and there is no way in hell you are moving to get that, that would mean you getting up and turning and being alive altogether.

“I can't I told you I gonna puke,” you try to explain how serious your condition - also known as hangover - is.

“It is by your side of the bed" He groans again and yet he sounds just like a petulant child, maybe it is a gift.

“I can't I will puke on the carpet it only makes things worse,” you try again, “or worse I can puke on the bed, you included in the radio of the vomit you know it splashes.”

“Ok, stand still,” Jeonghan says, “don't kick me, I'm doing it for both of us”

And you do as you are told because being still right now is the only thing you can do - even moving your eyeballs seems too much right. So Jeonghan just dropped his body on top of yours, he is also sweaty, and he reeks of alcohol. Damn, he actually smells like gasoline. He picks up the phone and presses a few buttons. His body is still above yours, pressing into you.

“Be quick you are pressing my blade," you say after the surprise of having him against you fazes out.

“What the fuck do you need to pee or vomit? Ah yes, hello,” He says changing his voice in the middle of the sentence from something that says intimacy is a disease to his customer service voice without pausing, “hm do you guys have room service that includes painkillers?” He waits, nodding his head as he hears something before he remembers his on the telephone. “Oh okay, thank you, can you send it? Oh yeah great, yes if you can do that, yes, pancakes, toasts with poached eggs and avocado, coffee hmm” he thinks about it, looks at you, thinks about a second or two, and then adds, “Can you send us four cups of coffee? Thank you.”

Jeonghan finishes the call with a groan leaving his mouth, he places the phone on its holder. But when you think he will get himself off of you he only plops down, his body weight getting heavier. His bones poking your body, what the fuck he was doing with your elbow on your ribcage?

“Jeonghan what the fuck-" You complain, trying to kick your legs in a vain attempt to make your friend move.

“I got us painkillers and food, let me recharge for a bit stop complaining,” Jeonghan says in a dead tone of voice, almost like he is dealing with a kid throwing some type of tantrum - the only thing is that, in this occasion, the child is you and somehow you want to kick his shin, because you are the one right in this situation, and you could totally just plop down in a mall disgusting floor if Yoon Jeonghan was your father too.

“You are heavy!” You try again but somehow Jeonghan is stronger than you think and his body is still over yours like nothing is happening, maybe you are just dehydrated and fucking muscle-less, maybe the yoga wasn’t doing much when you almost killed your liver.

“I am not,” Jeonghan says, now he is the one being the moody child in the supermarket, maybe he will go off without parental supervision. Oh wait, this was Yoon Jeonghan he actually did wander away when he was out about with his parent and ended up three blocks away just because he saw an ice cream truck. Jeonghan was the easiest kid to be kidnapped, you ask yourself how he ended up being safe and sound, and in one piece.

“Just because you are skinny it doesn’t mean you aren’t heavy.” You try again pushing on Jeonghan bony shoulder, even that is pointy. “bones are heavy too, get off of me!”

“You kind of stink," Jeonghan says, his head still lodged in the space between your neck and shoulder.

“Well you asshole you are not better yourself, and you are stinky too and sticky like you showered in bear or something.”

“Maybe I did, I don’t know I can't actually think,” He groans finally trying to lift himself up, “We should shower,” he says sitting on the bed and looking down at you.

“You go first,” both of you say at the same time

You end up going first. Mainly because you needed to pee and you think that once you are up you may as well just use the opportunity to shower otherwise you would just drop dead on the floor and never get up again - you will be stinky and gross forever. Also, you think that if hell breaks loose and Jeonghan actually pukes you at least already used the shower. Back in college, he puked on the sink because it was the closest thing to the door, or whatever poor excuse he came up with, and that scene still haunts you, because somehow the sink was clogged. Ew, you think, finishing peeing and wiping yourself up. You wash your hands and say thank you for your past self because your necessaire is splayed on the counter, you pick up your face wash and head to the shower. Ok, let's deal with it. You need to wash your hair too. You open the register, letting the water hit your foot in an attempt to get just the perfect temperature.

You close and open the registers a few times - to fix the temperature, but you not gonna lie, to make up your mind too. But when you let the water hit your face - in an almost drowning attempt, you know you made the right decision, shower first was the only option. You let the water wash away for a few minutes until you are ready to really start your shower. First step - wash your face. Well, you needed to buy a new face wash this one was in its last few stages of life, you close your eyes and start to rub against your skin, normal, until you few something slightly different on your hand - almost like scratching the skin, you open your eyes and you finally notice, a band on your finger.

You turn your hand and it finally hits you.

It is a ring.

With a big rock.

In your ring finger.

A big damn rock on your ring finger.

“Yoon Jeonghan” you scream in horror.

On the other side of that door, Jeonghan just hears you scream. He actually picks himself up in record time and room towards the bathroom, oh shit did you just fall and hit your head? Did you break the glass of the fancy hotel shower? Are you dying? So without thinking much Jeonghan opens the bathroom door and he just finds you - completely naked and seemly okay, just staring at your own hand.

“What happened?” He asks trying to catch his own breath, maybe he does need to start working out man, he didn’t feel this horrible when he was hitting the gym after shifts, but also he didn’t feel that great either the whole gym rat thing was not his ordeal.

“What did we do?” You ask still in complete horror, not even thinking about how this is the first time Yoon Jeonghan, your friend is seeing you completely naked. 10/10 would not recommend this experience. Not even to Laurel, her satan spit roommate.

“What? Are you going crazy? I thought you fell and opened your skull or something,”

You just look at Jeonghan, dead in his eyes, like the reality is worse than falling in the bathroom, opening your skull and calling the paramedics naked. You just turn your hand to him - like it is enough to make him understand what a dire situation it is. And you swear to god you can almost see the little flakes of light on the bathroom floor, the rock is big enough to shine across the room.

“Did you call me to show me your ring? Couldn’t you wait until you put your clothes on?” Jeonghan asks leaning into the doorway.

“Jeonghan did we-” you say but you feel your own throat closing around itself, it can’t be right?

“Hm?” he asks without a blink of an eye.

“Oh we did, we totally did," you sighed, more to yourself than to Jeonghan.

“No, you are not that crazy,” he claimed. What is that even was supposed to mean? He was crazy enough for it but you the two goody shoes wasn’t?

“Jeonghan check your bank receipt,” you demanded, trying to connect the dots in a way, trying to find a physical proof, maybe you just bought a way too expensive ring for yourself, or maybe it was just impulse buying.

Before you can move Jeonghan almost runs towards the room, you try your best to keep up with him but you are a little behind because for the first time, you actually are aware of how naked you are. You pick up the fluffy bathroom robe - yeah the fancy hotel had its perks.

“Oh fuck” you can hear Jeonghan before you can see him, his phone it’s on his lap, his head is on his head - he is a man defeated.

“Did we?” You try to probe, but your voice sounds weird in your own ears - almost small, and the reality hits you, you are kinda scared. The reality of maybe having fucked up hits you like a trunk, you always been a nice girl, you never fucked up - at least not that bad, what would you mean if you married on a drunk whim?

“I think,” Jeonghan says, his hand on his greasy hair, fuck he needed a shower. “I think we fucked up real bad.”

You sit beside Jeonghan, you both staring at the wall ahead of you in disbelief. You are still gross, but now your damp hair is actually dropping on the bed and you can’t bring yourself to care. The fact that Jeonghan is motionless by your side without uttering a word is what freaks you out more. Jeonghan is not someone who is fazed so easily - his mouth is agape and his eyebrows furred, the ‘i-am-utterly-stressed’ Jeonghan feature is what freaks you out really.

“Ok Hannie,” you breathe softly. “That’s what we are going to do, I am going to shower, then you are going to shower, we gonna eat breakfast, then we are going to return this ring, then we are going to call Joshua, he is a lawyer, right? He probably will know what to do.”

“Joshua is a real estate lawyer,” Jeonghan mutters without blinking.

“Jeonghan focus!” You say getting out of bed, “divorce is a thing we don’t need to stay married.”

You take one of the longest showers in human history. You needed a good shower, but, the majority of the time under the shower you think about how the hell you got so drunk to marry Jeonghan. Some flashes of memory blink on the forefront of your mind every time you blink; a vegas chapel, not an Elvis but an Elton John in front of you, Jeonghan picking one of the most expensive ring in a fancy story. How the fuck fancy jewelry runs for twenty four hours?

Every flash comes with a sharp pain, the fucking headache.

When you get out of the bathroom the breakfast is already in the room. You take a bit of egg and toast just so you can shove coffee down your throat without having to deal with the stomach pain. You search the ring case and don’t find anywhere, maybe it is safe on Jeonghan’s thing, maybe he kept it safe, or you hope so. When you sit on the bed you stare down the ring, it is a beautiful ring and you are pretty sure it is something Jeonghan chose, it is beautiful, but at the same time, it is just too much.

You need to return it, no doubt about it.

You try to take the ring one and somehow it doesn’t even budge. You scoff, what a tricky little thing. So you try again, and again the thing doesn’t move. You can feel the drop in your blood pressure, what the heck? You lost track of the time when Jeonghan opened the bathroom door and you looked at him in shock, you look down at your red and bloated finger.

“This shit is stuck in my finger?” You say trying to take off one final time before just breaking your finger.

“Well, I think this is a good time to tell you,” he starts his voice all weird and over the place, “I kinda fucked up.”

“Jeonghan we are apparently married I already know we fucked everything up.”

“No, I-” Jeonghan begins, his hands now going through his washed hair, still wet and dripping on the floor, “I found a shred receipt and an invoice.”

“What the fuck?” You almost yell in pure knee-jerk reaction.

“I think it is yours now?” Jeonghan shrugs, like it is not a big deal even though you know that this ring is expensive, it must be, it has a giant rock and even though you know close to nothing about jewelry it looks expensive.

“What happened to us?” You question.

“You ask me? You don't remember anything?" Jeonghan says sincerely, and you know it is true. Jeonghan was kind of a prankster, he kinda did push people to its limit, but part of it was just doing fun things but also harmless shit. Like entering the beach at night, or hiding someone’s phone and pretending they did leave in the hotel so they can enjoy the trip without being bombarded by their special someone - read Seungcheol yesterday at lunch.

“Can we call Joshua?”

“I think we can do that later,” Jeonghan checks his watch, “I think it would be wiser just to show up to Seungcheol’s lunch and pretend that mini golf is fun, it would bring suspicious otherwise.”

“Jeonghan we married we didn’t commit a crime,” you say looking at him in disbelief.

“Do you want to deal with Seungcheol’s monologue about us getting married? I don’t think I want to deal with that with a killer hangover after a wedding walk of shame in fucking Las Vegas,” he drops. And God, that really sounds like a nightmare.

“Yeah,” you say looking at the big rock on your thing, “you are right, but we should probably still call Joshua,”

“I told you he is a real state lawyer didn’t I?” He says almost rudely to you, and you want to say that if you two are married both of you said yes it is not like you are the only one responsible for it but you try not to push his buttons.

“And what is your option Jeonghan?”

“I’m thinking about just getting drunk again so I can forget everything that is happening right now.”

What a fucking great idea.

Seungcheol is one of Jeonghan’s closest friends from college. Seungcheol just became your friend because you and Jeonghan were weirdly bound at the hip. You both shared your high school years, and when you two enrolled at the same university you only had two options, pretend you two didn’t know each other, or become conjoined twins. Jeonghan was a business major, you were enrolled in every class that had literature, poetry, or the name of a dead guy on it. But still, you and Seungcheol became great friends even though he is a finance guy. And Seungcheol was the reason you two were on a Vegas trip, the last trip of his life as an unmarried man, he had to make a sketchy deal with his fiancé in order to it to happen but still, according to him, it was worthy.

“Nice shot!” You hear Seungcheol's voice loud, bringing you back to reality. He is clapping as Seokmin - one of his other friends from work hits the ball down the hole.

Seungcheol’s voice, loud and clear, brings you back to reality.

Oh the joys of playing mini golf before lunch, you could spend days and days talking about how much you loved the idea and how every hole seems like a fucking nightmare but you are a married woman. Needless to say this whole situation wasn’t in your 2023 bingo card. You don’t pay attention when it is Jeonghan or Seungcheol’s turn, you wait until you have to put the ball in the hole, it probably takes you double the time, and then it starts again, ad infinitum. At least they are kind enough to not pressure you to perform like Tiger Woods or something.

You think about Jeonghan though. Somehow, he hasn’t changed. Jeonghan was the same Jeonghan you met in high school, of course, he matured and the years turned into baggage, but Jeonghan was still your friend who was playful enough to get married on a whim. Jeonghan was everything you weren’t in a way, somewhat playful and carefree, and still a very practical human being. Jeonghan was mischievous, but yet, not even once, he pushed you until you couldn’t take it, and that makes you think that somehow, with an unknown reason, in your drunk stupor, you wanted to marry Jeonghan, because hell can break loose, the skies can fall, but Jeonghan would never make you do something you did not want to do.

While Jeonghan and Seungcheol are busy hitting those tiny balls Seokmin stops by your side. You like Seokmin, Seokmin is kind, and you constantly think about how he is surviving the finance world, he doesn’t seem cut to it, but somehow he manages to stay alive against the monsters of capitalism, or, worse, he stays alive feed the monsters of capitalism. Ew. Seokmin’s face though seems focused on another thing, he looks in shock and happy at the same time, he probably did the whole hole in less than three shots you think.

“Oh my god,” He almost screams making you jolt in place, in all truth that was pretty much a common occurrence when your day to day involved Seokmin.

“Hm?” You question puzzled, looking at him trying to find a clue of something behind his feature when Jeonghan and Seungcheol finally join the two of you on the sideline.

“What is that?” Seokmin asks and you still without a fucking clue of what he is talking about. “Damn,” he says with his big smile across his face, making the tip of his nose get even more pronounced, “are you guys planning a surprise and I just ruined it?” His face changes in a blink of an eye.

“What surprise?” Jeonghan questions taking a drink of his gatorade like he was in the middle of an excruciating sport and not fucking mini golf after an unsafe amount of alcohol.

“That thing!” Seokmin cheered, and then it downs on you - the big ass ring on your hand, propped on the golf putter, and before you can hide it or chop your hand off the three man in your sight is eying the big damn rock that you forgot about,

“The what?” Seungcheol blurted.

“This is an engagement ring right?” Seokmin asks and you think about an ostrich, putting its head on the ground, you think you can do the same in one of the circuit's holes.

“No, it isn’t, how the hell they are engaged when they aren’t dating?” Seungcheol scoffs, acting like Seokmin is saying something that doesn't make sense, something that happened numerous times before, it could be happening again. It was happening again, at least to Seungcheol.

“We saw that one when we were looking for your fiancée present though,” Seokmin says all pouty and confused, and you think you almost try to defend his point of view as you always do, just because he is cute.

“It isn’t an engagement right?” Seungcheol asks

“It would be weird to be an engagement ring,” Jeonghan acknowledged the absurdity that envelopes the situation that you two are in, you want to try to take off the ring and just throw it across the field of mini golf, but a) it looked extra expensive, b) the three guys didn't even blink looking at your hand.

“Did you buy for aesthetic proposal?” Seokmin asks, "A girl that works with the human resources team did buy one just because she thought it was pretty."

“Of course,” Seungcheol claps, “I mean fashion was never your strong suit,” He says and it almost feels like a jab, “I almost brought that one, Jeonghan was dead set on this, saying it was the ring, but it was a bit on the expensive side”

“How expensive are we talking about?” You try to pry your body from reacting physically to the fact that Jeonghan shredded a fucking invoice and receipt, and the fact that even Seungcheol - the guy who buys twelves tumblers just because it was cute and ends up giving them away finds that expensive sets a new parameter of money waste.

“You didn’t check the price?" Seokmin asks, when you remain silent he continues, “Wow be you must be nice, balling and shit."

“How expensive are we talking about Seungcheol?” You try again, "Seokmin?" If you can’t return this damn thing at least you can try to sell it later. If you can’t find someone who can buy this you can sell for those weird and sketchy stores but you need to know how much you are actually losing on the deal, well, not you, Jeonghan but still, if you know the man he will just accept his fate and never move a muscle to deal with this ring situation.

“You really didn't check the price hun?” Seungcheol questions raising his eyebrow, like he always did when he couldn’t quite believe in you and it always made you feel angry with him. It was a tale almost, even when you were telling the truth he always raised that eyebrow questioning you, making you explain yourself.

“I brought the ring,” Jeonghan says nonchalantly like he is saying that he brought the bread on his way home. Jeonghan had this thing, a completely loath to let other people know his truest feelings. Even if he was one step away from a panic attack he would not tell you.

“Why would you do that?” Seungcheol asks again his voice is two tones higher, and you feel like he is questioning the two of you, and in his own mind he is the bad cop in the situation - Seungcheol liked that type of shit, and you think that maybe he is so into that because Jeonghan is his polar opposite, never giving Seungcheol a reaction.

“I told you I thought it was a beautiful ring man,” Jeonghan deadpans and take his fingers to move his bangs out of his eyes - making him look like a fucking prick, looking down at everyone else, and you know that just tickles something in Seungcheol. “What I am trying to say,” Jeonghan tries again, “is that the ring It is not an engagement ring because I didn’t ask her to marry me yet,” Jeonghan says walking by your side and enveloping your shoulder in an awkward hug. “I just confessed my feelings, it might be over the top a bit but you guys know I just had my eye on the ring.”

“Dude! Finally!” Seokmin says hugging Jeonghan, and you almost feel yourself choking on air.

When Jeonghan is free he whispers against your ear, his breath on your skin making you shrink, “Just bear with it.”

“What?” Seungcheol asks “Out of nowhere, you confessed your feelings? With an engagement ring?”

“Not an engagement ring Seungcheol we won't crash your wedding, relax,” Jeonghan says again, rolling his eyes.

“How much it was?” You try again dead set on finding out how much that was, apparently a new hyper-fixation.

“Babe,” Jeonghan says looking at you with a mischievous smile across his face, “it is not polite to talk about the price tag”

“What the hell I am watching right now?” Seungcheol bristled, more in anger than in frustration.

“It was long overdue really,” Seokmin gushed, in a terrible contrast to Seungcheol’s features, his voice is loud and his big smile stretches across his face, “I thought it was so fucking weird you two sharing a hotel room with the excuse of saving money, like we know Jeonghan has money,” Seokmin points to the ring, making your skin crawl.

“We are returning this,” you tell Jeonghan, your voice low while elbowing his ribs.

“Baby I told you,” Jeonghan appealed, grabbing your shoulder “We can’t do that”

“Like I personally found you guys always so weird like, I think I even asked Seungcheol if you guys were married in the past because you guys are really,” he moves his hands in a weird move in a way to mean how close you always had been, “like truly crazy and then I asked Seungcheol and he was like it is never gonna happen and I was like-"

And Seokmin goes on for about a good five minutes about how he thought the two of you were a couple, and in a way, you were so used to it that it didn't even startle you. The problem was that Seokmin truly believed Jeonghan’s lies, one thing was to think that you two were in a relationship - everyone had this basic reaction since the two were in college, even one of Jeonghan’s ex-girlfriend thought of, one of your coworkers too, Jeonghan’s door to door neighbors too, almost every single soul you two met. That alone was something you began to understand, yeah you and Jeonghan had a weird level of intimacy.

If you mash together your college years you can sum up in - of course, we do not date, of course, you can go ahead and kiss him in this horrible pub, oh yeas I am living in his dorm at ungodly hours just because we decided to binge watch a docuseries, oh if I am wearing Jeonghan's clothes? Haha He saved my ass because I doped the coffee on my clothes - ps. The coffee didn't exist, and his girlfriend did break things up a week later, Jeonghan swore it wasn't because of you. Once one guy broke up with you because when he smelled you he could recognize Jeonghan's smell on you, Jeonghan toke as his duty to just fuck up with that guy's mind for a whole month. He told you over and over again that the guy was wrong and basically called you a cheater, so you might as well plant enough evidence to give them the mental image - Jeonghan planted underwear on said guy's returning box, a note with his own handwriting with meet me in secret at the library, and even brought you a small dog plushie to put in the box and when you asked why he said 'he will think another guy gave you a present'.

Knowing Jeonghan and the fact that he loved shocking people this whole act today didn't really shock you, in the end, you were the only that understand Jeonghan, because you would never ever fall for this weird ass act. Your default reaction to anything Jeonghan related was a fair amount of mistrust.

“What are you two doing?” Seungcheol asks again, his voice is laced with suspicion and mistrust.

“Doing what?” Jeonghan asks, his hand going to your hair and placing it behind your ear.

“Whatever you guys are doing,” Seungcheol says pointing his fingers at the both of you, and you think it is dumb to even pretend something to Seungcheol, he knows you, he knows Jeonghan he knows nothing like that would even happen and you still don't know why Jeonghan is even trying to lie to him.

“Jeonghan-” you whine, marrying in Vegas is indeed something that brings you shame and regret but lying to your friends is even worse, how would you deal with that later?

You think you would prefer listening to Seungcheol’s monologue about how both of you are completely crazy, unreasonable, and unreliable, all of that rings true now. And it was Seungcheol, he would end up knowing somehow, even if you didn’t tell him now, you both would end up telling him. This whole scheme would fall like a house of cards somehow. You couldn't knock on Seungcheol door and say haha we were kidding, but Jeonghan could, you would make him do it.

“Seungcheol that’s actually-”

“What are we supposed to believe that after what? A decade you just woke up brought a ring and confessed your feelings?” Seungcheol asks, raising his voice enough to make you look around the damn mini golf to see if anyone is insane enough to care about this damn scene, “When you are a commitment phobe who has been on my ass for the past several months?”

“Look man, can you just drop it?” Jeonghan asks again - in the same aloof way he uses when he wants to piss you off, almost like he is flirting with the idea of being a patronizing prick.

“Of course not, what the hell,” Seungcheol says, his tone still on the angrier side “You didn’t even remotely tell us about this."

“Yeah well some people can actually keep secret,” Jeonghan says bitterly.

“What was that supposed to mean?” Seungcheol questions and just by the tone of his voice you know that shit is going down, you have seen countless fights between the two to know that Seungcheol was on the edge.

“It means that I can actually keep my individuality as a human being because I don’t have a crazy girlfriend who has trust issues so I need to overshare everyone’s personal life because she thinks you can cheat on her every monday to friday man,” Jeonghan quipped. He was not the one who loved to fight, Jeonghan was actually someone who would just shrug and resolve the situation later when it came back to bite his ass, but damn when he wanted to fight he was ready for it.

“Damn,” Seokmin breathed.

“What the fuck Jeonghan,” You and Seungcheol say at the same time, both in disbelief.

“It is the truth, isn't it?” Jeonghan chastised, “Dude you are traveling with friends and somehow the whole lunch was about how your girlfriend was pissed that you actually brought a ring to placate how angry she was."

“Jeonghan stop talking.” you plead, holding his arms trying to get his attention, to make him stop before things end up in a point of no return.

“Why?” Jeonghan asks you this time, eyes focused on you and not Seungcheol.

“Because you are being a fucking asshole now,” you say “This is Seungcheol bachelor’s party the man is getting married,” you try again like Seungcheol is not in the room.

“Oh you think I don’t know about that?" He says exasperated, "We are in Vegas and this motherfucker drink one beer and told us to go to our own hotel yesterday so we needed to get drunk and-”

“Jeonghan,” you say again almost like a kid tugging Jeonghan's by his shirt sleeve.

“We are in fucking Vegas and we didn’t visit one strip club and we are playing mini golf that something off about this whole trip,” Jeonghan says loudly chuckling at his own words.

“Are you seriously right now? You are going on a tirade against your friend because he doesn’t take you to strip clubs?” It is your time to act in disbelief - strip club? Seriously?

“Maybe if we were at a strip club yesterday,” Jeonghan says eying you.

“You know what?” Seungcheol speaks up. “Fuck you, you are uninvited by the way, you go on and on about how you don’t think I should marry, well, then you don’t need to show up.”

You and Jeonghan are left side by side on the mini golf field. Standing there while the world still moving around. You want to break out in laughter, you want to just laugh at how the two of your friends seem to wake up on the wrong foot, you want to knock Jeonghan's head off his shoulder, but you end up just walking to return to the damn golf club.

The whole way to the hotel you and Jeonghan spend in complete silence, not one uttering a single word.

And apparently - now you are the one that wants to start a fight out of nowhere. You are the one that wants to scream about how Jeonghan was being an unreasonable asshole. You try to wrap your head around his reasons, about why he would act like that and nothing that comes up in your own brain seems right.

So when you both are back in the hotel room - now with new sheets thank god, and less alcohol smell you just ask in the most nonsubtle way you can, you hold your own waist and ask like he was a teenager throwing a rude tantrum, “What was that?”

“What?” Jeonghan asks taking his time to take off his jewelry, watch the first thing, and later necklace, if he had any bracelet would be the third step of his routine.

“The whole Seungcheol marriage thing?”

“Well, you don’t have to deal with him drunk every Friday night telling you how overwhelmed and how he feels trapped since they set the wedding date,” Jeonghan says shrugging.

��You told me he was going on and on about how great marriage is,” you say sitting on the bed, trying to understand all the things you apparently didn't know about Jeonghan and Seungcheol.

“Yeah, he has his own list of cons in his note app," Jeonghan huffs, "every time he thinks about calling it off, I think I just memorized it because he reads more than once a day”

“Fuck,” you say in a breath. In your own mind, Seungcheol not even once doubted his choice to get married, not even once seemed unsure of his decision.

“I was the one that said Vegas," Jeonghan says sitting on your side, both of you looking at the widow that faces a fucking parking lot, "I thought that he would get drunk enough to actually mess everything up because he can’t do sober, and by mess everything up I mean breaking up with his crazy girlfriend."

“Yeah, still, you didn’t need to be a fucking asshole,” you say seriously this time trying to face him.

“Well, I panicked ok?" Jeonghan finally breaks, "I wasn’t going to tell that man who is having a daily mental breakdown that we married in fucking Vegas.”

“I mean, I don't know about you but I think your friendship with Seungcheol is more important than being lectured because you married in Vegas, Hannie,” you tell him softly, patting his thigh.

“Well,” Jeonghan says, letting his hand on top of yours, “I guess I can't be gracious always,” he says with a sad smile.

“I know you are stressed out," You say calmly, "but you lashed out at Seungcheol and it wasn't great,”

“The fuck you are defending him for?” Jeonghan says standing up and pretending he is searching for something in that damn room.

“Are you serious?”

“What?" Jeonghan chuckles, "he can go on and on about how I am a commitment-phobe type of guy who is fucked up enough to not have a fiancée like him and it is all good and fun and games? But when I call out his fucking weird relationship I am the bad guy?”

“Jeonghan,” You try but before you can even finish he cuts you.

“No, don't Jeonghan me, the fuck,” he retorted, “you have the excuse of not knowing because I don't tell you, you could think I am an asshole and a horrible boyfriend because every time someone breaks up with me even though I am a great catch,” he laughs bitterly, “You can do that, Seungcheol can't do that, he doesn't have an excuse, he knows why.”

“I never ever think about you like that,” you say sincerely because it is the truth, never once have you thought about Jeonghan being afraid of commitment or being a shit asshole. You always thought about how every girlfriend of his always looked and sounded more in love with him than the other way around, but that wasn't exactly a character flaw.

“I know,” he says already sounding exhausted.

“No I don't think you do,” you say sternly, “like it never crossed my mind really, I always thought about how they were crazy for letting you go, so what you don't want to marry someone? the fuck you can still have a great life and a great relationship with someone without a ring, and I know you are capable of it," and to your own ears you sound almost bitter, how they could be so dumb? To have a chance to have Jeonghan and let him go? “You have always been there for me, you never once wavered, I have no reason to ever think of you in that light and I don't think Seungcheol is being fair, he wasn't, but he is getting married in three weeks Han.”

“Yeah and I am telling him his girlfriend has been a freak since week two when she threw a fit because she was jealous of you,” Jeonghan says shocking you, "because according to her own crazy brain, you are way too close to men so who knows what you will do when she turns her back."

“Of me?” You say pointing at yourself, “Damn, she is crazy."

“That’s what I am trying to tell him, and he isn't fuck listening I guess.”

The whole afternoon you think about Jeonghan.

You think about him when he is lying in the bed on his cellphone, and you continuously think about him when you find him napping in the same bed. You think about everything you don't know about your friend, and you think about everything he doesn’t share with you, that he chooses not to. And you know every single human has secrets, and there are things Jeonghan doesn't know about you too. But knowing that it is one thing, dealing with the emotions that come with it is another thing altogether. Why he would not tell you? Why he would tell Seungcheol?

Those questions live in your brain, rattling and making sounds every time they crash against your skull. You think about your friendship as well. Jeonghan was always there for you. He was there when you had your first heartbreak in the third year of high school, he was there when Mark broke up with you in college, and he was there every step of the way. He was there when you were sick, he was there when your favorite auntie died, he was there when you were panicking before your first job interview, he was there. You just couldn't wrap your mind around the fact that someone would call a man like that a commitment phobe or break up with him.

And what he said was true in some way, Jeonghan never broke up with anyone, he was always the one who was dumped and weirdly okay with it. Every time you talked about someone who didn't know Jeonghan you always painted him as the perfect guy, and it was true - he had a great job and his bank account was crazy even though he worked to the capital devil, he was someone who ha they shit together too, he helped his parent, he helped his friend, his house was never messy.

Every time you broke up with someone you talked about how you wanted a guy just like Jeonghan, nice and fun, but also low maintenance in a way, someone you could just comfortable be being with, without having to try too hard and do too much. And every time you met someone new, you always trusted Jeonghan's opinion, if he vetoed someone he had his reasons, like the weird guy that two months later was on the news because he emptied someone's bank account because they let their bank account info saved on the computer or something like that.

If you thought about it - really being married to Jeonghan was not even close to the worst thing that happened to you. Founding a dead rat once in the subway was worse, or that time when you found out that your roommate left the door open for weeks before you just never went to sleep before her just so you could make sure to close the door, and 95% of the time she didn't close the fucking door, that was worse than being married to Jeonghan.

“The fuck?” Jeonghan groans.

“What?”

“Apparently I messaged my account manager our marriage certificate asking if he could officialize the house-buying proposal, and apparently the bank green flaged it? The owner needs to accept the proposal of course, and it may take a while but-" Jeonghan stops halfway, almost like zooming out, staring at the wall ahead of him.

“I guess you are soon to be a house owner?” You question bringing Jeonghan back to reality.

“No, no-"

“Seriously if it is something that is helping you I don't mind, we can come back to Vegas a few weeks after the deal to annul it I looked up online it is not that hard we just need the documentation and the wedding certificate so," and it was true - you did research how to deal with the whole thing, it seemed easy, maybe that's why they actually let people marry crazy drunk, so they can pay to annul it and the city double the revenue, apparently crazy amount of drinking and casinos were not paying the bill.

“About that,” Jeonghan says, his hands tugging the sides of his hair.

“About what?” You ask.

"The wedding certificate,” he says, finally looking at you, his eyes big and still puffy because of his nap, “I think, I mean- I am pretty sure it is shredded with the receipt and invoice."

“What the fuck Jeonghan?” You shout, oh man, you are going to kill this man. The image is already on your head - jumping on that very same bed like a crazy woman and kicking him before you just kill him with your bare hands.

“I know,” he says almost in a grunt, laying down like a starfish.

“Why did you shred everything up for god's sake," you say almost stopping on the floor.

“I don't know okay?" Jeonghan says, sitting on the bed now, his cellphone forgotten, "Why did we marry? Can you answer that?”

“OOh," you huff, "We did get married, but I am soon to be a window if I don't kill in the next five minutes I swear to god”

“Wait, what changed if it is helping me?” Jeonghan says, back to his mischievous self, with a small smile across his face almost finding endearing the way that you try to threaten his life.

“You are making everything argh-” You are losing your damn mind and if you end up crazy it is Jeonghan's fault, now that he is indeed your husband has another tingle to you like a thriller movie, but you are afraid you are in your own Cameron Diaz Ashton Kutcher low budget 00's movie. Maybe you should take the whole thriller movie, it seems, weirdly, less weird. "First we cannot return this ring now I have to find someone who wants to buy it without documentation so everyone will think this shit is totally fake, I mean I would too, don't get me wrong I wouldn't trust myself either with this jewelry," you go off - almost missing the point, rambling really, before you get back to the point, "now we need to find a second copy of this certificate I swear to god we could just go to the nearest courtroom and annul the wedding I googled it."

"I already told you you can keep the ring," Jeonghan says - voice low in contrast to your high-pitched complaints.

"Why would I keep this ring Jeonghan?" You question, it sounds weird in your own ears.

The truth is, you did love the ring, it is a beautiful ring but the truth is - you can't keep it. It shouldn't be yours to keep. It should go to someone Jeonghan wants to actually marry, even though you can't bring yourself to take it off your finger, even though you didn't even try to take it off after this morning.

And a breath almost gets locked in your throat. Why? You think, and deep down you know you have your answer but you just shove everything down when you hear Jeonghan's voice, "Well If you sell it I won't take the money."

"I can just pour it into my savings accounts," you say petulantly.

"The fuck," Jeonghan bites back.

"What? You said you didn't want it so I can keep the money," You try your best to sound even close to someone somewhat rational in this matter.

"It is a present you can't sell a present," Jeonghan though, never has a problem looking like he is saying the most rational thing ever even when it doesn't make any sense.

"I totally can," you bite back trying to hold your ground just out of pure spite. He didn't accept that cursed ring which is not even supposed to be yours why the hell he is making such a big deal of you selling or throwing it in the sea?

"You can't," Jeonghan says again, and you think back to your friendship and a lot of times it was like that - a lot of things without proper explanations.

"Why not?" So you just hold your ground - again, he will not win this one, this time he will have to explain.

"Because it is a present I picked up for you. I actually thought about it, I mean before drinking buying apparently, but I thought it would suit you" Jeonghan says, "Just don't sell, if you don't want to use it okay fine but just, just don't sell it, don't hurt a man's pride like that,"

You want to try again - to say you will sell this damn ring if you go to the store and it can't be returned, and you want to say you will throw it on the nearest river because Las Vegas is indeed very far from the sea. You want to push him until he says okay I take the damn ring and I will hold onto it and pass it through generations. But when Jeonghan speaks and he sounds so tired and so hurt you just give up and lock yourself in the bathroom pretending to take a shower before leaving this hellhole of a place.

You look at yourself in the mirror and ask yourself how the hell everything happened in such a short amount of time. A marriage, a fight, a ring that makes you go crazy. Maybe you are closer to having a breakdown, maybe it is the time to face things that you are trying to keep hidden under the rug. You think that maybe it is time to just downpour everything.

But like always, you don't. You bottle everything up and pretend that everything is fine.

The last few days in Vegas have been less eventful, thanks God. Jeonghan and you go to weird restaurants and for a walk around the town, and you think about how you got married in the city of Sins.

At least it is fitting to think that pride and wrath have something to do with your own stay in this city.

You often think about Seungcheol, sending him and Seokmin a message or two, or a total of 15. Seokmin answers you, Seungcheol doesn't. And you need to hold yourself back when you type down a fuck you but don't send. You try to pry on Jeonghan's end too, but after the third time that he just doesn't answer you with words but just a cold stare you just let it go. Maybe that's why Seungcheol and Jeonghan have been friends for so long - pieces of the same cloth.

The flight back is not that tricky but at the same time when Jeonghan drops you out at your door, you are ready for a 30 minutes shower and drop dead for a whole week. When you open the door you are glad that your roommate at least remembered to close and lock the door. Character development you think, maybe she is getting better, maybe you don't need to actually move into Jeonghan's house as a safety precaution. But something doesn't seem quite right - there is a new sofa in the living room, which isn't exactly a problem, really, your sofa kinda sucked. But when you look again, you understand what is missing.

No, she didn't, she would not be that crazy. You refuse to believe that. You left all your luggage in the middle of the living room and ran to your bed, maybe she put the side table there, of course, maybe she just moved because the new sofa seems bigger. But there is nothing that resembles the side table in your room, so you try again - her room now, still nothing.

You send a message.

You try to call.

So you try the next best thing - call Jeonghan so he can calm you down. He doesn't pick up. You sit on the floor, right beside your luggage, and you refuse to sit down on that sofa, it is pretty it seems comfortable but now is the object that you hate the most. You would prefer, I don't know, to take part in a scientific experiment that might fuck up your brain function than sit down on that thing.

The concept of time and space is a funny thing you think when you lose count of how many minutes or hours you have been staring at the door, it has been probably a long time. Until your roommate opens the door with a big guy by her side, great, all that you needed was an audience for your lash out.

"Oh," she says, big guy with his big hands on her hips and he knows he is not getting laid today, because he sees you and he gets so upright he seems like a fucking power pole, "I didn't know you would be back today."

"Laurel, darling, where is my side table?" You ask without beating around the bush.

"Oh right," she says letting her keys on the counter without fucking locking the door you have never been closer to a have a fucking stroke, you can feel your blood pressure rising, "the sofa was a bit bigger, you know I told you I was thinking about changing and this was on discount, but the table didn't really had a place in the room anymore so I put on marketplace a cute girl come up to pick in the same day, great right?"

You blink once, twice, and the words don't even come, you are so astonished that you are left speechless. Maybe you could get over the unsaid desire of getting murdered by a serial killer, and maybe you could get over the leftover food on the counter, and you could even get over the whole singing in the shower when you are fucking tone-deaf really.

But that. That was one thing you could never get over.

"Are you fucking insane? Are you fucking crazy?" You ask, the big guy taking a step back, "Or do you just have fun being the most self-centered bitch in this part of the country?"

"What the fuck?" She says, and oh god, you want to jump on her bones, you want to leave this woman bald.

"Did you ask Laurel?" You ask again, remaining sitting on the floor because if you pick yourself up you are probably no longer be a first-time offender. "Did you ever think about asking if you could sell, give or even create a fucking bonfire with the wood of my deceased auntie's side table? Did you fucking asked?"

"Oh I didn't know," she says simply. You feel the tears streaming down your face and you don't actually know if it is because of sadness or anger.

"So funny Laurel because I don't even fucking know how you function like a human being because your brain is so fucking empty of common sense really," you bristled, finally getting up and picking up your big backup, "Look I don't know how I don't care really, it is up to you, but you get my table back in perfect state, and you will pay this month rent fully because I am not living with you I would prefer Satan as my roommate really, and you may as well find another roommate because I will not move a muscle to put someone inside this apartment," You say moving past Laurel and the crazy big guy, "and by the way Laurel? I would fucking lock the door today you don't really think about how many insane people leave in this world."

You say finally get out of the apartment.

You don't really stop walking because you are afraid you will just fall on the ground, crying in the middle of the street in the fetal position, not really a pretty picture. You know Jeonghan's house is not really far, a twenty minute walk. You wish you had an epiphany when you see yourself at his door, a moment to say 'wow why am I here?'. But you know yourself enough to know why, you know Jeonghan enough to know why you are at his door.

You know Jeonghan will open the door for you, and you hope deep down that he will hunt Laurel-the-sattan-spit-roommate down.

When Jeonghan opens the door, he looks puzzled, his face shows that he is trying to understand what is happening. You are sure he was ready to say that he didn't order something and to check on his neighbor.

"What happened?" Jeonghan asks when he sees you on his door instead of a lost delivery guy.

"Laurel," you say, and before having the chance to say anything else, you already feel the pain, you don't want to cry but you end up doing that nonetheless. You even hiccup once or twice before you feel Jeonghan's arms against you, enveloping you, making you feel safe.

"What did she do?" Jeonghan tries again, one of his hands still around you, while the other cradles your head, his hand softly stroking your head.

"She sold my side table," you say, still hiccuping your way through the sentence and you feel so fucking dumb, crying in Jeonghan's arms, and you feel Jeonghan's body goes completely rigid before he holds your face in his hands and you almost flinch because you cannot face that man in this state, and second, his hands are cold.

"She sold your side table?" He asks and you just nod, it is the only thing you can do, "The side table?" He tries again just to receive the same reaction, his hands wrap around you, but this time he hugs you tighter, your head smashed against his chest and somehow you find a resemblance of comfort.

Jeonghan takes you to the kitchen, and when you feel his arms release you, you just sink to the ground, your back to the cabinets. Jeonghan hands you a cup of water, and hugs you again, his hands rubbing your back like you are some kind of a toddler, and that alone makes you sniff even more. That motion alone takes you back to your college days when you went back home to your auntie's funeral - Jeonghan drove the whole way, and the only sound inside the car was you crying. Back then you didn't know that Jeonghan lost an important exam so he could drive you back home, later when he was pilled with an ungodly amount of work and told you he needed to do an extra project so he didn't fluke his class you cried all over again - part of it because you felt guilty, part of it was because it was Jeonghan, and you could count on him for anything.

And here he was, years later taking care of you again. You never doubt he would, that alone - the certainty that Jeonghan is in your life should scare you, but it never did. Not now, and not even back in college when Seungcheol joked about every time a new girl showed up alongside Jeonghan. Somehow you knew that Jeonghan would be there if you needed him, if you ever shouted that man would run leaps. The thing was, Jeonghan never told you anything remotely close to make you believe that, he never promised you anything, but Jeonghan actions always reassured you that no matter what, he would be there if you needed him the most.

You think about it how - weirdly - you were never in that position, how you never once was that person to Jeonghan, the person that reassure Jeonghan or be someone he could lean on. There is a deep down desire that you don't quite acknowledge over the years - that you want to be someone important to Jeonghan. Someone as important as Jeonghan is to you.

When you feel you can finally breathe you get out of Jeonghan's hold to go to the bathroom, in a way searching a way to escape your own feelings and thoughts, pretending you just need to wash your face. When you return to the kitchen, Jeonghan is in the same place, sitting on the floor staring at his own hands. Now, calmer, you take the whole scene of the kitchen; the single glass of wine on the counter, the open bottle, Jeonghan's cellphone, and his notebook.

“Were you drinking?” You ask after a while, sitting on his sides and copying his positions - legs stretched and back flushed against the cabinets. The hiccups are still there but they’re less frequent now, and you can finally breathe on your own.

“Yeah I was,” Jeonghan says, stretching his legs and looking at his feet cladded with old socks.

Jeonghan thinks about the minutes before you arrived, how he was just scrolling on his phone and drinking alone because his mood was so dreadful that he didn't want to make anyone suffer in his company. The only person he would subject to a vent session was Seungcheol, so drinking alone was the only answer. The truth is plain and simple really - Jeonghan has been feeling miserable for quite some time now, mainly because even though it pays extremely well his job sucks. He works for and with shitty people, but it pays well, so that should be enough - why it isn't? But all of that seems so fucking small against the feeling of you losing the last physical thing of someone you loved, someone who was so important to you.

“Why were you drinking alone Jeonghan?” You ask, giving his thigh little taps but still looking ahead - you see yourself in the mirror, you are so swollen you can't face the man like that.

“I,” Jeonghan ponders, thinking about if it is the right time to just go on a tangent about how he works sucks, how his best friend isn't talking to him, and how he wants to go back to his high schooler self and just start everything over, even if he fucks everything over is way better than this gray area that he is stuck on. “We can talk about me another time,”

“Just," You breathe deeply, your head almost knocking against the counter door, "do it for me then,” you tell him softly, almost pleading, “tell me so I can take my mind off this shit.”

“I think,” Jeonghan says, “no, scratch that,” he laughs dryly, “I am sure that I am fucking miserable,” he looks at you waiting for your reaction, “and I’ve been miserable for a while, I just fucking hate everything,”

“Han-” you try to say, and you almost feel like you don't have tears anymore, but if you could physically cry you would.

“I am not depressed, don’t worry, I just,” he trails off, “I hate that fucking job and if I have to spend another year there I would probably kill a rich guy, I have a few investments, and I have savings, and I-”

“You should buy the house,” You blurt out, remembering Jeonghan's eyes looking at the pictures of the house.

“What?” Jeonghan says almost choking on nothing.

“You should buy the house, just give me one room and I will pay rent, we can share utilities and food, and then you can quit,” you declared like it was something people just do on a whim, like you are not even having a stroke just thinking about the process of ending your lease contract, but the sky can open you are not sharing another day in that apartment.

“Not a great deal when I have a fucking loan on my name,” Jeonghan bemused, almost laughing at your non-sense.

“Just don’t tell the bank,” you shrug.

“Well,” Jeonghan says, almost like he is trying to assess the situation, see how everything could plan out from different angles.

“Come on, tell me,” You say finally caving into your curiosity, poking Jeonghan with your elbow.

“Tell you what?” Jeonghan asks but you can feel the playful tone in his voice, almost a childlike wonder of being caught doing something he shouldn't do.

“What is the plan?” You whisper - you don't know why but this whole thing seems like a secret, like something Jeonghan doesn't want to see the light of day yet, something he has been keeping under wraps.

“What plan?”

“I know you Jeonghan," You say finally looking at him, a small smile still stretched across his face, "I have known you for quite a while, come on, don’t underestimate me,”

“What are you talking about?” Jeonghan says playing the fool but the smile is still there, making you probe a little bit more.

“I know you, you would never think about quitting without a black plan besides having a few savings and weird investments, tell me,” You almost pleaded, turning your body to him, your hands on his thighs supporting your own weight on him. And you know you need to bring out the big guns - the begging eyes, almost laughing at yourself.

“Fuck,” Jeonghan laughs at you, his head tilting back and all, like you are the most amusing creature ever.

“Come on,” you urge, using your hands on his leg to almost shake him.

“It is not a plan, it is a desire,” he begins, “I’m thinking about sitting down and doing a few design classes, it can be online but,”

“No-” You say surprised, your smile big across your face because you know where this is going.

“Maybe,” he says still leaning on the counter, eyes closed and that infuriating smile still on.

“You can totally do it,” you tell him almost jumping on your place.

“It is not a plan yet,” he explains, in a vain attempt to make you tone down your excitement, but every time he looks at you he thinks he can give you that, soothe your pain with his dreams and hopes that won't really get out of paper. At least today he can do that for you.

“I can help you,” you say, finally changing positions and sitting almost by his feet, facing him, Jeonghan's hand on your ankle.

“How can you help me?” He asks you, squeezing your ankle and you pretend you are going to kick him, but he just holds your ankle and puts it on his lap.

“We can do it,” you say completely seriously because you truly believe he can do it, achieving his teenage dream job. “You know me, I am an army general, I have discipline, and I love a good worksheet, I am an editor,"

“What you being an editor has to do with it?” Jeonghan says while he tickles your feet, making you almost jerk.

"Stop that," you say using your other to nudge him, "I did a few children's books mind you,” you say, using your free hand to pinch Jeonghan's feet in the form of a threat, “I know how to promote things, I know how to deal with due dates and with manufacturers, you just need to sit down after lunch watch your boring ass class like a college student and hand your resignation letter,”

“It is not something that will actually work and be profitable,” Jeonghan huffs.

“Jeonghan, be honest with me,” you say, this time in a more serious tone.

“Okay,” He says, hands leaving your feet and closing together on his stomach.

“Would you ever take that leap with you couldn’t live till 90 years old with the money you have on the back?” You joke, breaking him in half, his laughter resonating in the kitchen.

“No?” He jokes back.

“We are doing it,” you say like his opinion in his own laugh and plans don't actually matter that much, but Jeonghan just smiles back at you - sometimes, he thinks about how you are the only one who can actually match his insanity, the only one that goes with his plan, or come up with even weird ones.

And Jeonghan knows he is fucked, because every time he thinks he can’t love you more you show him that love grows and expands beyond borders. Lately, Jeonghan favorite song is My Love Mine All Mine, and when he looks at you, in his kitchen, face still swollen and red from crying Mitski sings in his ear - Nothing in the world belongs to me But my love, mine, all mine Nothing in the world is mine for free But my love, mine, all mine, all mine. It resonates with him, the fact that his love for you is his to carry. And this alone makes Jeonghan happy in a weird way, because he knows how much love you deserve, and he is happy that he is the one that loves you, and he loves you for free.

Even though Jeonghan knows you don’t love him like he does love you he thinks about how you are the only person that is always there for him. Everyone that he knows would make Jeonghan just let it go. Why the fuck he would build a business around children’s toys? Why would he resign and leave a great career that gives enough money and intel to just go around and draw a few rabbits and frogs on a page? Just because of joy? Jeonghan always knew that joy alone could not make you survive on this earth.

But yet you were doing just that. Telling him to drop everything and just try to be happy. Right now Jeonghan could drop on his knee and ask you to marry him if you weren’t legally married and if he wasn’t a fucking coward. Sometimes he hates himself for that, the way he holds onto something he knows it is not quite enough but it is the only thing he can have.

Jeonghan thinks about- everything really, but mostly how joyful you are in your own way. How you would buy sweet treats just for the sake of it, how you had every single first copy of the books you worked on even if they were beaten in the process and almost unreadable. He thinks about the first time you showed up on his door, a big book in hands and a smile across your face, buzzing full of pride because it was your first fucking book and your boss give you one in the very first batch - back then you were just the one that did the toughest job, reviewing everything.

Jeonghan knows he loves you, he knows for quite a while.

Jeonghan knew before the first girlfriend dumped him because he was jealous of you. When his third girlfriend asked him if he liked you he couldn’t even lie, when his fifth girlfriend broke up and for the fifth time, the reason was you he just stopped trying dates altogether.

Jeonghan doesn't remember much of the marriage itself, he remembers bits and pieces of an Elton John in a 70's costume and how the chapel was way hotter, making Jeonghan's armpits wet, not a great look for a groom. But he remembers everything before that - in a less hazed lens. He remembers telling you in the hotel bar how he loved you for quite a while now, and how you looked so shocked - telling him he should quit lying. He swore on his first dog's grave, weirdly that made you believe him. He told you how he hated Mark - your college boyfriend that literature guy who gave you poems that you still keep as presents, he remembers you saying how you would keep every post-it note if Jeonghan wrote them in the future. It was a promise, you said holding your pinkie finger out for him. He remembers buying you the ring, you outside the store because he knew you would think that the chosen ring was too much, too big, too expensive, any ring will do it you told him before letting him inside, but he couldn't do it, he could only choose the prettiest ring for the prettiest girl.

Jeonghan remembers his vow, promising he would take care of you, that he would write love letters for the rest of his life on every special date because you hated presents. And Jeonghan remembers how you two kissed in the chapel, on the uber back to the hotel, in the hotel room - more than you should have, because now it is the only thing he can think about it and you don't fuck remember. Jeonghan thought about running, about changing cities and even country - investments were pretty much the same everywhere in the world really. But the reality was that even if he moved, his love was still his to keep, and he would do that heartedly. He was a coward, but he still had his pride, and if that was the price to pay, then, be It.

“Hey, come here,” He says, finally lifting himself off the ground.

“What?” You ask, looking at him still sitting on the floor.

“Come here,” He says again, giving his hands so you can get up.

“What? You are weird what is going on,” you say finally getting up on your feet.

“Come here,” Jeonghan says and before you approach him his arms are already by your side, enveloping you in a thigh hug. “Thank you,” he says softly, “thank you for everything really,”

“Are you drunk Yoon Jeonghan?” you ask, your own voice muffled by the tight embrace.

“No,” Jeonghan laughs, and you can feel his whole body move, “I’m serious, thank you for being there for me even when you have shit on your own to deal with,” He says, his chin on top of your head, “and thank you for not thinking I am a commitment phobic asshole.”

“You are still on that? I told you I never saw you like that stop being dumb."

“I know, I am just-” Jeonghan doesn't finish his sentence, his arms still around you, his heart beating by your ear.

“Look you are drunk, at least there is nothing much we can fuck up being drunk together after getting married in Vegas," you say and Jeonghan feels a pang, almost like when he stubs his little finger on the corner of random furniture, but he doesn't say anything, "give me a sip of your wine you asshole,” you say getting free of his embrace and holding the bottle of wine

“Come on! Don’t drink it straight from the bottle, there is a glass right there!” Jeonghan protested.

“Come on Yoon Jeonghan, I know you, I know you since you didn’t have enough cups in your first kitchen, don't play the proper guy with me,” you say like basic manners don't exist, and sitting on his counter.

“I grow up I am an adult now,” Jeonghan says, but he doesn't really move a muscle to pick another glass of wine for you, he thinks it is his biggest flaw - the fact that you can walk over him countless times and Yoon Jeonghan will just let you do whatever you want even if he pretends that it is against his will.

“Oh, totally,” You look at him, and even though the phrase itself has a bite to it your voice is honest, “Not to go back to sappy times, but you really did Hannie, you are really growing so much, and I am so proud of you,”

"Shhhh-” Jeonghan murmurs trying to shut you up and you know it is mainly because he is so fucking shy that you almost laugh.

“By the way,” You say taking another sip from the bottle. “I’m so moving in with you and I can even deal with only one room if you don’t sell any of my stuff.”

“Shut up,” Jeonghan says kissing the top of your head, “you can have the whole house, just don’t set it on fire.”

Ultimately, that actually happens.

You actually move with Jeonghan into his dream house. The house is 98% bare, without the furniture of the last owner besides the utilities. But a) it is better than living with your satan-spit roommate, b) Jeonghan has been sleeping on his own couch for over two weeks now because even though you say it is okay you can't spend that time in your own apartment he refuses to let you near Laurel.

But somehow, Jeonghan and you make a home out of the new house. You take the bookshelves on the left, all the books you edited in your lifetime on a special shelf right in your point of view. Jeonghan takes the bookshelves on the right, a lot of the books you edited and gifted him are scattered across it because he doesn’t really care about arranging his shelves in a particular order.

Every time Jeonghan sees a nice piece of furniture he sends you a picture of it, and you two chat about if it fits the room, and the colors would clash. In a weird way your collection of cups and mugs triples the size, indeed you are engrossed with buying new ones, but the thing is - you always pick two of them now. Jeonghan’s favorite is a weird bunny mug that you never actually use because it ears always make drinking anything impractical.

You two also build a weirdly oiled routine. You two eat breakfast together, Jeonghan wakes up early and when he is just arriving for his morning run you are already scrabbling eggs. When Jeonghan is ready for work you are ready for your own run. When Jeonghan arrives from work you still have one hour to go, so in the end he is the one to always cook dinner. After you two share the dishes and eat something sweet as the dessert the kitchen counter - previously used as a dinner table, now acts an officer table.

While Jeonghan looks up some designer classes, you search manufacturers. When he draws a cute rabbit girl that he named Ttoram, you try to understand how a business works, how you file taxes for it? Sometimes Jeonghan does the dirty work himself after he finishes a new version so you get your pink glittery pen and write in post-it what you think about the new product; ‘what is this material arrow-drawing pointing to a specific part of a squish toy’, ‘her head seems big are you sure she won't flop head first in someone’s bed?’, ‘are you sure? I think lamps are quite expensive.

The house gets filled with new art supplies, sometimes Jeonghan orders a bunch of them online, and sometimes you are the one that brings back a single pen or a new colored pencil that you pick up in arts stories every time you go to a meeting. The house is filled with paper and drawings, your favorite ones is always the first drafts - the ones that Jeonghan does on the non-quality paper, the ones that he does on pieces of paper, the ones that look less refined and to you are filled with children-like joy.

Another curious thing is how somehow you and Jeonghan seemed very addicted to post-it. Besides the practical use in the drawing drafts because Jeonghan was an old soul who couldn’t do his work on an Ipad like a normal human being in this day and age, you also used to communicate - ‘please buy eggs!’ you wrote and left on the kitchen door, ‘already set a reminder on my phone so i don’t forget to stop at the market!’ jeonghan replied. “Didn’t see u before I left :( don’t forget to take breaks” he wrote, somehow the post-it ended up in your office, and you glued it on the computer screen beside one green post-it with a frog with a raincoat on.

Every time the fridge was out of space for new ones you took them off one by one, with a smile on your face, and kept them in a box, safely stored. You always noticed one or two missing but you always thought the wind knocked them out and Jeonghan, that traitor, threw them in the garbage. In short, everything stayed the same with a daily dose of domestic life. The problem was - that it didn’t stay the same for very long.

And as hard as it was to admit, it was your fault.

There was no way around it.

It weirdly began every time you saw Jeonghan around the stove. The fact that Jeonghan was beautiful-handsome-pretty was not news to you. You, and every human being that laid eyes on him, always reached the point where you acknowledged how pretty Jeonghan was. In college it was a fucking nightmare, guys and girls banging on his dorm room when you two were watching a movie just because they thought Jeonghan was alone - the fact that he didn’t have a roommate because he bribed someone (one of the most Jeonghan acts that you ever witnessed, but that was beside the point - really) only added to the fact that 87% of his course thought he was down to bang anytime. The truth was that you always knew that Jeonghan was someone objectively good-looking, but there was a catch, even though Jeonghan was beautiful you didn’t really feel attracted to him and he knew that. Countless times you told him he was too pretty for his own good along with the lines that he wasn’t your type, ‘what the fuck that supposed to mean’ he answered the first time you said that, back in high school. With time it turned out to be your standard answer to every girl that was attracted to him and wanted a shot with him but somehow thought he was your boyfriend.

You know that Jeonghan is good-looking, and you know that for fucking years so why are you going a little insane every time you get in the kitchen and the man is cutting some onions? Truly it happens in the weirdest hours, out of nowhere, your brain reminds you how hot Jeonghan is - and that is even scarier because you knew that the man was handsome, but hot? That’s a new development. Once he arrived from his morning run, his hair a little damp, sweat dripping down his neck, and only with a thigh shirt because he already removed his go-to wind-breaker and you almost collapsed on the kitchen floor. That alone was mind-blowing.

The horrors begin when you just couldn’t deal with his touch without your mind going to the fucking gutter. When he touched your hips to make your move because he wanted to open a drawer, or when he dropped down on the sofa without leaving space between your bodies, his hand tapping your thigh. Out of nowhere, you are combusting because his hand feels hot against your skin, goosebumps appearing across your skin Jeonghan asks you if you are cold. And the fact that Jeonghan is touching you isn't necessarily super weird, he always did that, but somehow you feel that his touches changed and you can't quite pinpoint how besides the fact that you are reacting differently.

It doesn't really help your case that Jeonghan develops a weird habit of wrapping his arm around your neck. It happens everywhere, even in public and every time you can feel yourself grow a little hotter. You were supposed to pay attention to Minghao’s new paintings, a designer slash illustrator slash painter whom you worked with for a few book covers, and somehow in the middle of the opening of his new exposition, you can’t even think about the impasto on his oil paintings because Jeonghan hands feels heavy on your neck, his fingers touching the lateral of it almost rubbing. Every time you take a step to try to see the paintings up close Jeonghan doesn’t let you leave his hold, his body close enough to be pressed against your back, half of your back feeling hot because of his presence, half of it feeling cold because of his absence.

“Hao!” You say when you finally see the man of the hour, black hair on black coats, his hands behind his back looking around all the people that came just to appreciate his work.

“Hey,” He says opening his arms for you.

“Congratulations,” you say feeling the arms of Minghao around your back, your body though prefer to pay attention to the weight of Jeonghan’s eyes on you, “everything is mind blowing,” you say to the man - his hands still on your body, yours on his shoulder, until you hear Jeonghan clearing his throat in order to get you to notice his existence, and you almost laugh, “Hao this is Jeonghan, Jeonghan this is Minghao.”

“Great job man,” Jeonghan says in a weird tone, giving Minghao two little pats on the back and taking a step by your side, his hand on your waist.

“Thank you,” Minghao says politely, like he always does, “It is a pleasure to meet you, you are in the book industry too?” Minghao asks with his hands in his pocket,

“No,” Jeonghan almost scoffs, him? and books? God forbid, “I work with investment these type of things,”

“Oh, so you are not in the art business then,” Minghao acknowledges and you know his interest peaked even though you don't know why, maybe because you know Jeonghan so well you don't have much to unfold, while Minghao just seems weirded out by the fact that you have a Wall Street dude by your side.

“Oh Hao you always flatter me when you include me in the art business,” you say jokingly, reminiscing one of the many conversations you had with Minghao over a bottle of wine.

“I told you," a sly smile across his face, "books are a matter of passion.”

“You did,” you say somewhat reminiscing of the talk you two had back then. It was after calling him up for his second cover, after a meeting where he made you go through the book's motifs and ideas so he could have a feeling of what he should focus on.

“You should come to the after party,” Minghao says, “we could catch up,”

“Yeah I don’t think we can,” Jeonghan says while he checks his watch, he knows the question wasn't directed to him, he isn't stupid and he has two eyes, but he also is a stubborn motherfucker and now he just wants to ruin Minghao's night, and he is not about to Banksy this place up with shredded art pieces - because he is afraid his bank account can't take the lawsuit. “I have a work meeting tomorrow morning” Jeonghan reminds you, his fingers still on your waist.

“Still,” Minghao says, looking puzzled by you two, “you can stay right?”

“I’m afraid I can’t,” you say sorry “Han is driving us back so-”

“Is your phone number still the same?” Minghao asks without dropping a beat, and Jeonghan can give him that, he doesn't know Minghao but the guy just doesn't quit - he knows a stubborn guy when he sees one.

“Yeah, I didn’t change, but if you need you can e-mail me and-” You say before someone calls Minghao, it is his opening after all, a guy in the suit makes a gesture to him when the three of you look to see who was the owner of the voice.

“Sorry, I have to go, but I will call you," He says before giving you a kiss on the cheeks and walking to the guy who just called him.

Jeonghan snorts, really, what was that? He shouldn't find it so funny but it is. He takes a step back, his hands leaving you, while he looks at the painting. You know he is just pretending to analyze everything.

“What?” You ask him - missing his hand on your waist, on your neck, missing his presence around you.

“Nothing,” he says shaking his head, he is biting back a smile - laughter really, and you want to know what it is so funny, you are curious about what is going on in his head.

“It can’t be nothing come on,” you press on, your hand on his shoulder in a way to get some sort of touch from him, to regain some sort of proximity.

“Just-” Jeonghan stops, in front of another painting, his hand going back to your waist, and at the same time you think you can finally breathe again, your breath feels trapped in your throat, making you swallow on nothing, “You didn’t tell me it was an opening night to your ex-fling," he says. Eyes almost tinkling under the light and you know where this is going.

“Hao isn’t my ex fling what are you talking about?” You pretend, trying to get out of this situation because you know somehow Jeonghan will pry on, and he knows how to push your buttons enough just so you can spill everything he wants to know.

“Not fling then," Jeonghan says, hand still on your waist when he starts walking around the gallery with you by his side, until another painting that he really doesn't really care about, "an one night stand.”

“He is a friend," almost rolling your eyes at him, "I told you, I know him because of work,”

“So you are telling me you guys didn’t fuck?” And even though his words my seem harsh his tone is still light - he was truly a jerk but why are you smiling at him?

“Jeonghan, what the fuck?” You yelped, making Jeonghan's sly smile appear again.

“What?” He asks eyes still on you when you pretend to pay attention to the orange painting in front of you.

“Keep your voice low,” you mouthed, “we didn’t fuck,” you tell him again, and it was the truth, but somehow Jeonghan knew how to read between your words.

“Well,” he began, still looking at you even when he tilted his head to the side, a sly smile still on his face like he could see through you like you couldn't keep anything under wraps, and you could feel the goosebumps on the nape of your neck, your whole body tingling, “I am pretty sure it wasn’t for lacking trying on his part.”

“It would be too messy,” you finally blurt it out.

“Ah of course," Jeonghan laughs again and it almost sounds bitter to you, "so he did try, it was after or before saying the book and passion line?”

“After,” you say, your time to laugh, even though you feel the heat on your skin, a crazy addition to new feels because you are not one to actually feel shy around Jeonghan.

“And you laid him down too gently,” he acknowledges, eyes moving through the room again. You follow his gaze, seeing Minghao watching the both of you across the room, you just greet him with a smile.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You ask him, pressing your body on his sides until his arms are back on you.

“Well," Jeonghan breathes, his eyes still rummaging around the room, "I know you can break a guy's heart but apparently you lost your touch with that one because he is still down to fuck.”

“Jeonghan!” You gasped, “No he isn’t you are seeing things like you always do.” You tell him, Jeonghan had this weird superpower that he tuned in college - he could tell a guy was somehow interested in you from miles away, the first few times you actually made a bet on it; fifteen dollars, to pay him for a meal, to go with him to a frat party that his friend Soonyoung was hosting. After the fifth time, you just learned that was better to trust his judgment on it.

“Oh yeah, it truly takes a mind reader to see a guy ogling you across the room and telling you to show up at the after party even tho you have a guy on your arm," Jeonghan almost scoffs, then he leans down, his mouth close to your ear, "truly, his intention was indeed to talk about the impasto or the lighting or the shadow of his hard-on,”

“Jeonghan” you accuse again slapping his arm playfully, laughing at his antics “If I trusted you my ego would be in the clouds because every walking human being apparently wants to fuck me according to you.”

“Not everyone but a great part of it, sure." He deadpans.

“Sure, apparently you are the only exception who else?”

“I’m not,” Jeonghan deadpans again, just shrugging. Because it is not actually something he tried to hide over the years, it is nothing something that he is ashamed of either. And he is pretty sure it is something you already know since college so he doesn't have to lie about it. Jeonghan might be a coward, but he isn't really a liar.

“What?”

“I tried to get in your pants my whole high school years," He says, his eyes still on the painting, or everything that catches his attention, his eyes are everywhere really but on you. "I just gave up after the few first months of college”

“What the hell?” You try again. Everything feels kind of abnormal in your head. The way that Jeonghan says those words - like he is saying that you two should buy soap the next time you both go do groceries, it freaks you out. How can he be so normal about all of that?

And how could you be so clueless? Everything shifts in your brain - like the earth just changed its axes. He never told you anything closer to this, you are sure of it. You never suspected that Jeonghan liked you back then, or scratch that, that he tried to get in your pants. It seems something so unreal that you are having a hard time wrapping your mind around it - around the idea of a teenager and younger Jeonghan wanting something from you that you never really saw happening.

“What the hell what?” Jeonghan stopped dead on his track, finally looking at you, “You didn’t know that?”

“Of course not,” you say exasperated.

“Oh, I thought you were laying me down gently too,” he added, in the most neutral tone possible, making your head spin a little.

“No, I had no idea,” and it is true. You remember everyone from college who thought you and Jeonghan were a couple back then, everyone who found it weird when you two answered that you were just friends. You remember Seokmin, and you think about Seungcheol's words in Vegas and everything is hazed, a little out of focus. “Why did you give up tho?” You ask him.

“I just,” he says still looking forward and avoiding your eyes like the plague, “I mean, besides the fact that you got into he is not my type phase I would never kiss that man, the fact that I tried for four years and it didn’t happen led me to believe that never would, so...”

“I needed to make clear to every girl that was falling and tripping over you that I was not your girlfriend, they were pretty sure we were high school sweethearts back then”

“I think everyone we know somehow ends up thinking we are in a relationship,” he says, “I mean, clearly not goth impasto guy because that would be crazy, hitting on a woman with her husband on her side but”

“You need to pick up your husband's game,” you say kidding, while walking around the gallery with him, “I was indeed mistaken to be a single woman today.”

“I should have bought a bigger ring,” Jeonghan groaned, making you laugh, weirdly you still have the big ring on your finger.

“That’s not the answer,” you groaned because the man truly had this weird obsession with this ring and big rocks. You could tell him over and over again how you didn’t care about the ring or the rocks and he still found a way to make sure you were wearing the ring.

“And what is? If I try to be more territorial within the touch department we would be in jail for public indecency,” Jeonghan says low on your ear, his voice mischievously, while his hand presses on your hips, “Should we just go to jail?” Jeonghan asks, his hands trying to go lower heading towards your butt.

“Jeonghan, don’t test me,” you say seriously, your hand holding his and bringing up on your body. Why the fuck didn’t Jeonghan behave like a proper human being? Why your heart is racing against your ribcage? Why you are enjoying this whole thing?

The whole night you can feel Jeonghan’s hand on you in some way, or on your lower back, your neck, fingers on your shoulder, making his presence known somehow. And every time you think you are starting to understand what happened - what Jeonghan said, what that meant, he touches you again and everything gets a bit hazed, taking you to the start again. Should you read into everything that he said to you? Would you be able to deal with it?

Those questions are still going around your brain in the car back home. Home, that alone was something that didn't make sense either. The air in the car is so thick that you think you can't breathe, the fact that Jeonghan's hand is splayed against your thigh doesn't help with the issue. The curiosity gets the best of you - you want to know all the unsaid things, you want to get under his skin and discover everything Jeonghan even wanted.

He doesn't move his hand, he doesn't stroke your skin, his hand is just there. Again, a reminder of some sort, and you almost laugh - silly of him to think that his presence could go unnoticed by you. Jeonghan has always been there on your mind, and lately even more. It makes your mouth go dry. The feeling is back on the pit of your stomach again. What if? You ask yourself, what would have happened if Jeonghan said those things back then? Would the present be different? Would that have washed away all the curiosity about Jeonghan?

Arriving home you go straight to the sofa and plop down in the middle seat, taking your time to take off your high heels, you don’t know why but you still buy pairs with ankle ties - the bane of your existence when it is three hours later and you have a thigh dress on, maybe that’s why you think you hate those types of event, even though you had a great time, saw a few friends and enjoyed the night with Jeonghan, you always ended up tired with a few blisters on your feet. You can hear Jeonghan’s footsteps around the house while you massage your feet and try to ease the tension.

You turn your body so you can stretch your legs on the sofa, the pain on your calves is killing you. You don’t even turn when you feel Jeonghan entering the room, his perfume and the sound of his slippers are enough to make his presence known. It was always like that? Did Jeonghan's presence always engulf you? Did it always make you unable to focus on anything else? Did it always make you question your own sanity? He sits down on the sofa, in the same direction as you, his legs around yours, his front pressed on your back and you hold yourself back because you almost whimper when you feel your body melting against his.

“You’re tense,” Jeonghan says his voice low, his hands pressing the knots on your shoulders.

“I am always tense and stressed out,” you say, and it is the truth. Jeonghan doesn’t need to know that for the last few weeks the fact that he is the number one reason. You almost rub yourself against him, feeling a little bit crazy and hot all over - oh no.

“Hm,” Jeonghan acknowledges. When his fingers close around your neck you almost jump on your seat, his thumbs traveling across the knots of your spine, and you are not strong enough to not whimper this time, “there’s a lot of things you could do to distress.”

“Like what? A guided meditation?” You joke, trying to get away with it, trying to downplay every reaction of your body.

“Fuck those apps,” he mutters under his breath, he is so close you can feel his breath against your nape.

“Yeah right there,” You say when his thumb presses down in a particular knock on your back.

“This one?” You just nod, don’t trust yourself enough to utter a word that doesn’t sound like a humiliated noise. Since when did you turn into a mess in Jeonghan’s hand? But you just accept your fate, feeling how soft your body feels against his. “Can I open this?” Jeonghan asks, his voice so low you barely hear, but he is so close to you that your ears catch his question.

And you still don’t trust yourself, so you nod again. Jeonghan drops the zipper of your dress and takes his time to gather your hair in his hands, and taking them out of his way, letting your locks rest on your shoulder. His fingertips trails the collar of your dress again, and you can feel the goosebumps across your skin and you know Jeonghan can see them as well.

You can feel the way that Jeonghan’s fingertips travel down your spine as he opens the zipper of your dress. And you close your arms around your chest, in order to maintain the dress in place because you can feel how loose the fabric feels against your body after the zip is down. But apparently, Jeonghan is not even close to satisfied because his fingers are tugging the straps of your dress down your arms.

Jeonghan’s fingertips are still on your skin, stroking your arms when you feel his lips against your shoulder. Before you can think about anything your own body reacts before you, giving space so Jeonghan can continue kissing the column of your neck. Everything feels a little surreal, a blur, you can't quite grasp-

Then, your cellphone starts to ring bringing you back to reality.

“Don’t pick up,” Jeonghan tells you, almost like a whisper against your ear, his hands still around your waist - but then your phone rings again and again and reality comes crashing again and again.

And you want to say that you are ok with almost being undressed on Jeonghan’s lap, that it is ok the way his thighs cage you, that it is ok how his hands feel hot against your body and how his lips feel against your neck. But your phone rings again and it must be important so you stretch yourself and try to find your phone inside your bag by feel. When you finally can reach the phone dies, and you can feel Jeonghan’s smile across your skin - like he just won. But before you can drop the phone you feel it ringing again, and when you pick up the big font appears on the screen ‘seungcheol is the best’. You can feel Jeonghan’s hand freeze against your body, the way he just goes rigid.

“Don’t pick up,” He says again but now something is different - his voice is not low.

“It must be something important,” you reasoned, because it is true. You have been trying to get a hold of Seungcheol since before leaving Vegas and yet the man didn't answer you once.

“Just-” Jeonghan tries, and you can feel his squeezing your shoulders again, almost in a silent plea.

“I haven’t talked to him since Vegas, it must be something important,” You say, your own hands going to his in an effort to show him that you understand what he is trying to say.

“Are you truly doing this right now?” Jeonghan asks and when you don't answer him he already knows.

You look at him but Jeonghan just gets up and off the sofa and leaves the room, in the end, you choose to just pick up your phone and answer it with a low “Hey cheol,” so low that Seungcheol asks if you were sleeping.

Seungcheol tells you he wants to meet, to talk about things. And you say yes because why not? You pick yourself up and close your dress. Before going to your room you stop at Jeonghan's door and before you lose all the courage that you have in your body you knock on the door, nothing, and you try again just to hear the sound of the shower across the room when you glue your ear against the door.

When you lie on your bed you don't really can close your eyes. You feel restless, your mind wavering, and you can't stop thinking about Jeonghan.

What would that mean?

If you took that leap would Jeonghan be there if everything fell apart? A shiver runs down your spine because it is the first that the answer would be a no. You ask yourself why now. What made Jeonghan change?

And you can't even look back anymore - you can't even think about your friendship with Jeonghan without it being tinted, his words echoing in your brain, "I just gave up". You play the whole conversation back in your head, almost like an old VHS tape - rewinding and pressing play, trying to see everything in another angle, rewinding, asking yourself what that meant, rewinding, thinking back, rewinding and pressing play - unfolding all the touches, and the times Jeonghan's hand lingered on your body.

You rewind until the sleep gets the best of you when it is already bright outside.

You wake up to the sound of your phone, Seungcheol calling you because he will run a little late, of course, you say while he just laughs because it is so clear that you were sleeping. When you run down the stairs, almost falling on it because your brain isn't functioning yet, you don't find Jeonghan anywhere. When you look at the fridge and there are no new notes, your heart breaks a little.

The coffee that Seungcheol chooses is pretty, and not very crowded, and even though Seungcheol is late is not a big deal, you use the time to go over a few manuscripts and spreadsheets with a cup of coffee on your side. Or at least you try to, but the truth is that you send Jeonghan a few messages and every time your phone pings you need to check if he is the one answering you - it isn't.

When Seungcheol arrives, you see him first, still from afar, his hair is shorter now. You almost laugh because that is definitely not a Seungcheol's choice, nor a haircut. His hair screamed his fiancée's name.

"Hey stranger," he says sitting across from you.

"Hey yourself," you greet him back, almost laughing at how awkward this whole thing is. Seungcheol and you walking around eggshells. Neither you nor Seungcheol wants to start talking about the whole elephant in the room - Yoon Jeonghan.

You ask him about the wedding preparation, it is going nice he says, he was late because he needed one last fit on his suit. His mother nagged over and over about how he shouldn't wear a navy blue suit, his future wife nagged about how it couldn't be black because the whole vibe of the afternoon wedding was different from a night wedding.

"I'm just happy that you guys worked everything out," Seungcheol says after a while, sipping on his coffee.

"Cheol," You try your heart already tugging on your inside.

"No really," he smiles at you, the way he always does - with a fondness you can't quite handle, like after all those years he still sees you like the kid you once were. Someone who didn't really have hold of her life and in a way, after all those years you feel like that again. "I did a lot of thinking," Seungcheol chuckles, "I think that I always have been envious of Jeonghan in a way," he breathes loudly, almost trying to gather up courage, "here I was, with my wedding date set up and still having doubts about how I feel and if I should go on with it." Seungcheol scratches her head almost like he is ashamed to tell you the truth, "And there is my friend, right? I think that the thing I always admired about Jeonghan was how consistent he was, you know me, in that way, we are alike right? We see shine things and we run towards them, a new project, a thing we like, don't even say anything about the golf gear I swear to god," he says abruptly making you laugh, and it was true in that sense you and Seungcheol were very much the same. "But Jeonghan is consistent, that man's mind is a fucking rock," Seungcheol says like a jab and you can understand why, "and yet he is more sure about you than I am about my fiancée really. And he has been sure for years, I still don't know what made him make a move-, he didn't talk to me prior to that, but I am truly happy that you guys figured it out, it took you long enough."

"I don't even know what to say," you breathe, looking at Seungcheol. You can't blurt out the words - physically unable to tell him. You think about what you should say, you should tell him -'we are not together', 'we didn't figure it out'. You want to tell the truth, you want to come clean, but you just can't. "But yeah, he has always been there for me" you laugh a little soulless. It is not a lie either, but it is not the whole truth, Yoon Jeonghan has always been there for you, but now all the other pieces of the puzzle are coming together. "I think the only thing that hurt him was you going on and on about his commitment issues or whatever.

"It's-" Seungcheol breathes, "it wasn't like that. I mean, sure, he can't commit to anyone who isn't you," he shrugs, "I think it was back when you were going out with that lit kid right? god" Seungcheol laughs, shaking his head like he just found a memory in his treasure box, "Jeonghan was so jealous back then," Seungcheol continues, reminiscing, "he would get furious every time that guy would give you a letter, a poem, anything really. I don't know how you didn't catch up on how much he hated that guy's gut if he dissed the poor kid."

"I just thought-" you stop to think about it, "I don't even know what I was thinking back then, but I never once thought it was because of jealousy, he was dating like 3 girls at the same time back then," you tell, felling the bittersweet taste on your mouth.

"Well," Seungcheol takes another sip, "you know Yoon Jeonghan, when he doesn't get what he wants he tends to fuck everything up and push himself to do shit just out of spite. His high school crush and love of his life found her first boyfriend, how do you think he would handle that? What he could do about that? Try to write poems better than Mark? He tried to believe they were all shitty, trying to forget you was the last thing he could do for himself, even that didn't actually work."

And you feel like you are about to go into overdrive.

It is one of your flaws really, you were never one who would react quickly - your brain always trying to assess and digest everything before being able to take a leap. The problem was that you needed to unpack more than ten years, to go through every file of your life with Jeonghan and try to find a new meaning, trying to find a clue, in search of something you don't know yet, but that could make you understand, or realize.

You spend the whole day feeling a weird taste in your mouth.

The thing is, you can't quite pinpoint what are you feeling, you can't really name it. It somehow resembles feeling betrayed, you think, that you have a cheating boyfriend and everyone knows his secret but nobody has the courage to tell you, and when you actually find out you are the last one to know.

You take your time walking around town and even figure out the longest route to Jeonghan's house.

Even that sounded weird rolling off your tongue.

You try again - picking random memories to try to see if you can find a hiding meaning somewhere, a clue, evidence of Jeonghan's feelings. A crush you could understand, something small like an affection with an expiration date you could understand. You could understand the curiosity that grew in the past month.

But Seungcheol's words didn't point to that, Seungcheol's words were actually pointing in the opposite direction of that.

And if you were being honest with yourself, that made you afraid.

“I talked with Seungcheol,” you blurt out when Jeonghan finally arrives.

“Yeah, we are not going there,” Jeonghan says seriously, without looking at you - avoiding you at every cost. It is a tell, a clue that he doesn't want to talk about it. You don't want either, if you could you would never go there again, but you need to, because living things like they are right now, messy and all over the place aren't working.

“Jeonghan,” you groan, “we need to talk about everything that happened in Vegas, his wedding is in a few weeks."

“I think you were there when he said I wasn't invited so I am not really following right now," Jeonghan says his voice stuffy because his head is inside the fridge in search of something, maybe he is just trying to not look at you.

"He told me you are not answering his calls," You tell him, and before Jeonghan says anything he just scoffs and closes the fridge door without taking anything out. He doesn't actually move, but he doesn't look at you either, his head is hanging off his shoulders, and you know Jeonghan so well that you know that nothing will make him move. You know you are not going to win, but yet you press it on, because you are tired of things being left unsaid, of Jeonghan bottling everything out and things ending up being your fault.

"Why are you being so fucking stubborn about this?" You ask watching Jeonghan just shake his head, "he is your best friend."

“Yeah like Seungcheol’s is flawless,” he bites back.

“Jeonghan this is not the point right now-" You start before he cuts you off.

“It is never the point right?” He asks you, finally looking at you, still holding his weight on the counter, "Is never the point, is never the right time, is never them it is always me fucking it up because it is Jeonghan he is not serious, he can take it, you guys can go on and on and god forbid if someone doesn't wanna take more bullshit from you."

“Come one don’t get angry with me,” you plead.

“Of course, right, I can't even get angry," Jeonghan says before he heads to walk out of the kitchen.

"Jeonghan," You almost beg making him stop and look at you, "we really need to talk about everything."

"Talk about everything or for you to be Seungcheol's spokesperson?" He says, and when you don't answer he completes, "Then no, we are not talking”

“Of course, because that will solve everything," you say almost groaning, "he is your best friend for god's sake, he still thinks we are in a somewhat relationship, he wants to talk to you, he feels guilty for being an asshole. He is sorry." You try almost stomping your feet at every word.

"Well, good for him," Jeonghan says like words don't have enough weight to make him care.

"Come on Jeonghan I'm trying here," you whine.

"Trying to do what exactly?" He asks, "Did you ever think about what actually happened since Vegas?" He says finally looking at you, and you feel even worse. He almost laughs when you don't answer. "Okay, I did, I spent every single second thinking about it and I am really fucking tired of thinking about it. I tried to put it through a different lens, I tried to put myself in other people's shoes, I tried to be reasonable and understand everyone, look I really did, and I did a great job understanding that you forgot the whole damn thing, of course, you can forget me telling you that I am head over hills for you sure, you can forget that you were the one who kissed me back then sure, of course it happens, I mean," Jeonghan scoffs, "I understand for years what is a few more months right?"

"Jeonghan-"

"No, let me finish this because somehow it will be my fault again so let me make everything clear," he says - back again looking at every corner around the kitchen but not laying an eye on you; "Seungcheol knows, he always knew about everything, he knows how many girlfriends gave me fucking ultimatum and I always choose you. He knows how many women broke up with me because they knew I was in love with you, sure, everyone in my fucking life knew but you - I understand that too sure," he stops, breathing loudly and you feel the lump around your throat way to thigh, "and he fucking knows that if I could I would've got over this sooner, so yeah, maybe I was too fucking sensitive when my friend act like I was a fucking coward who has commitment issues and would never do anything about it sure, it's my fault great, I can be responsible for that. I can take that sure, I can take Seungcheol, what I can't take is you playing dumb after last night, that I can't take it, and to be fair I don't want to, I don't have to, and you don't have a lot of excuses this time, I guess you remember right? And I think that time I made myself pretty clear so this time you must know right?"

You have been building your life around Jeonghan's for years. In a way, Jeonghan's life and yours were beautifully intricate, to the point that you weren't quite sure where one ended and one began. You think about how would your life be without Jeonghan's presence, and how would your future look like. And that scared the shit out of you.

"And that took you how many years Jeonghan?"

"Don't do that," he says and his voice feels almost small.

"Sure, I am sorry if I'm being fucking selfish right now, but you had your own time to think about everything, right? You have had years to come to your own terms? I'm freaking out here, do you think that's easy for me? Do you think it is easy to think about the aftermath if this goes wrong Jeonghan? Sure I understand that maybe that is your tipping point great, I understand that, but you are my friend and I don't fucking know how we will go on if we fuck everything up," you laugh, "I think we already passed that apparently."

"We didn't fuck it up," Jeonghan says, "Why can't you trust me for once?"

"I do," You say, and it is the truth, you trust Jeonghan with your life, "I do, I am just scared. You took your time to figure everything out, but every time I look back now I think about everything you didn't tell me,"

"I told you everything," Jeonghan says and you can almost feel his desperation, "I was sincere about everything,"

"Now you are just telling lies," you say laughing dryly.

"Sure I didn't tell you everything, but the things I haven't told you are small in comparison."

"The fact that you like me isn't small Jeonghan," you say, and it finally downs on you, that this - his feelings are a huge thing that you can't quite hide.

"What I am trying to say is-" Jeonghan says, finally taking steps and getting closer to you, "I will not go anywhere," you hear him - even though it feels like he is whispering, "even if we fuck up, even if this doesn't work out, I will not go anywhere, if that's what you are afraid of then you have nothing to be afraid. I won't go anywhere because that would kill me more than would hurt you, and even though everyone around me thinks I am a masochist I would prefer not to die."

"I would rather not hurt you," you say and you feel like you could cry, "I am sorry if I ever did."

"You did," Jeonghan says, taking your hand, and holding it firmly like that act alone can show you how serious he is, "but nothing I couldn't take, even If you hurt me again, I can take it, I will take it."

Even if both of you don't want to, things stay a little weird between the two of you for some time. Like both of you are back to being so conscious of each other presence that it is just weird to jump right back at it, or, actually, take a step in another direction. But things fall back into place - more because of Jeonghan’s attitude than yours. He is the one that calls you for dinner, and he is the one that hugs you when you enter the kitchen.

He is the one that is trying to make things not weird. And you love him for it, you just love him, heatedly.

And the thing is, you always loved Jeonghan, but somehow, this kind of love and appreciation feels new and it is so scary, it makes you realize how everything is so fragile. But, at the same time - it makes you curious, it makes you wonder, it makes you act first just to see Jeonghan’s reaction.

Like when Jeonghan’s is whining about something and how he wants to quit his work so bad and you just hug him - almost melting against his back, placing your chin against his should and you can see Jeonghan freeze for a few seconds before he starts to pay attention on the food again.

Or when you start to watch a movie together and Jeonghan just melts in your lap, falling asleep while your hand goes through his hair. The next day when you whine about it he sweats to God he didn't sleep, he was paying attention to the movie, if you want to he can say the whole movie plot and all.

When the first Ttoram prototype arrives you are so excited that when you both place the little bunny on the dinner table, when she flops down - face diving because her head is too big - you are so happy for him that you just hold his face and place a quick kiss on his lips. Jeonghan looking at you wide-eyed. You almost start to laugh before you mutter:

“I told you, her head is too big,” you say trying to place Ttoram upright again.

“It is her charm, her brain is so big that she is dumb,” He says his voice weirdly fond, hands on your body pulling you into him.

“Yoon Jeonghan,” You stare at him - that weird mischievous smile on his lips, “what is that supposed to mean?”

“You should be honored,” Jeonghan says, holding your face almost making you yelp because his hands are so freaking cold, “You are my muse after all.”

And you almost curse him. But the thing is Jeonghan is cute, so will let it pass.

The thing is most of the time you are giggling and kicking your feet at everything Jeonghan does - that crush is so weird because you used to be stronger than that, now you are just falling in all of his antics, and boy doesn't he love it.

He just says the weirdest things out of nowhere just so he can hear your laugh. He holds you every time he has a chance, just pulling you close to hug you. But his favorite part of this new thing is how movie night now is just the two of you starting a movie to just act like a horny teenager.

Jeonghan is always the one who initiates it in a way. Sometimes is just caressing your arm before you start kissing him and licking against his mouth. Sometimes he feels bold enough and places his hand under your hoodie. The details always change but he always ends up with a hard-on and feeling like his younger self.

And it is happening again, his cock is hard, and he can barely hear the movie that is playing on the tv because you are kissing him and he can feel himself melting against the bed, like his whole body is going limp.

It is stronger than him, really. He wants to stay calm and collected but before he knows it he is already a whimpering mess, fingers digging in on your waist, his hips moving on their own, searching for some kind of pressure.

It is such a weird feeling, feeling so boneless and yet, feeling like he is a string - being pulled thigh enough he is about to snap at any minute.

When you break the kiss Jeonghan almost whines but before he can say anything you are already kissing his jaw so he just breathes loudly - accepting everything you want to give him.

“Can I suck you off?” You ask low on Jeonghan’s ears and he almost drop dead right there, like a fucking high schooler, like a teenager who just cum on his pant and drop dead when see a woman naked. And that would be fucking humiliating. He waited for so long he can't just burst a fucking nut in his own pants.

Jeonghan wants to answer you, he wants to say yes and maybe even mutter a please and thank you but somehow his brain is not even working properly, he is beyond dumb. But his dick is hard against his pants and he cannot even think properly - his brain is working overcapacity right now to try to take everything in.

So he does the only thing he can do in the moment - he pulls you into a kiss, and it is messy but Jeonghan doesn’t really care, focusing on the way you taste against his tongue. Jeonghan feels your cold hand against his stomach and he almost jumps at the spot, but you just whimper against his mouth when he does the same thing.

Jeonghan thinks the two of you are beyond niceties - you just told him you want his dick in your mouth, so he lets his desires win, while one of his hands is holding your waist under your shirt, the other one he uses to grope your ass. He squeezes your ass and at the same time, he tries to get your body even closer. You end up with your leg over him, across his hips, Jeonghan with his last functioning neuron takes the chance to shove his hand under your shorts too.

“Han,” you say when you come up for air, hand still splayed across Jeonghan’s body. “Come on,” you try again whining.

“Hm?” Jeonghan questions, his eyes almost closed and his head bent.

“You don’t want to?” You ask, voice low, taking the time that he uses to think about an answer to trail your lips across his neck, sucking at his skin, “I really want to but if you don't that's okay?”

“Hm?” Jeonghan mumbles - for a second he has no idea what are you talking about, his mind focused on how you feel against his hands, the weight of your body against him, how every curve of your body is pressed against his, how you smell and you taste.

“Suck you off,” you say again against his neck, almost petulantly like Jeonghan isn't paying attention, and he really isn't, but you shouldn't blame a man.

“Fuck,” he says almost whimpering.

Jeonghan was never like this - in his life nor in bed. He was never a mess, not to this point. Jeonghan always pretended to be somewhat collected, holding the strings of his life tight enough he could make his own choices, but it was never like that when the topic was you. So when the feeling pools on his belly, a reaction to how your fingers feel against his throat, taking matters into your hands when you grab Jeonghan's chin and maneuver his face in an angle so you can have access to more of his skin.

Jeonghan thinks he can die like this - almost dry-humping your leg. But apparently, you have other plans, your hand tugging at his joggers. Jeonghan's only reaction is to lift his hips, trying to help. It doesn't help much, but it is enough for you to shove your hands under his underwear, making Jeonghan shiver. When your hand finally finds his dick he almost melts, the tip of your things trying to map out everything before you apply pressure on it. He moans softly before closing his eyes.

He wants to be patient and wants to take whatever you give him, but the truth is he can't quite hold back anymore. His hands left your body so he can get hold of your face, kissing you. "Want to see you," he tells you, using all his strength to take one of the straps of your pajamas down. Kissing your shoulders, trying to map your collarbones with his mouth.

When Jeonghan tries to move the strap down your arm you don't budge, shaking your head telling him no, "don't want to stop touching you," and Jeonghan almost short circuit when your hand wraps around him and give his dick a few tugs.

"I know baby," Jeonghan coos, almost delirious out of his mind, his hand holds your wrist and takes out of his cock and the way that you just whine makes him even more desperate. His whole body is limp, almost melting. Jeonghan thinks he might die if he doesn't get naked, but he is too entertained with the view of your boobs in his face.

He knows there is an easier way to do this but fuck it, he is not in his right mind. Instead of taking out your flimsy excuse of a pajama Jeonghan just shoves It down, tugging at the end of the fabric while he kisses your chest. The way that you hold his head is so delicate that makes Jeonghan feel weirdly treasured even if he is completely debauched lapping at your skin. And Jeonghan takes his time, appreciating every inch of your skin

He could spend hours like this, he thinks - almost melting against you, kissing your chest lazily. He drags his tongue across your skin until he can reach your nipple, his hands come up your body until he can grab your boob so he can angle just right before his mouth is back to your body. Jeonghan thinks he can die like that, it would be a good way to go - your fucking tits on his face, your body pressed on his, his hard-on against your thigh, everything feels dizzy. When you shove your chest on Jeonghan's face, holding his face against you, he just takes it because he is so down and so horny that taking it is the only thing he can do.

"Hannie," you call and Jeonghan really just has enough strength to look up at you, without his mouth leaving your chest, "Just let me-" you try to say without much control of your own situation.

It is not like you are in your right mind either. Jeonghan's hands feels warm on your skin, and he holds you so tight that you think about the aftermath of his grip - you should make a mental note to check for marks after this, and that alone makes you tremble. You can only think about how Jeonghan's body feels against yours, how his mouth is still on you, and you want to cry because it is just so good but not enough. You feel you might cry. Or worse, die.

You press Jeonghan down until his back is pressed down on the mattress. And God he is so pretty, it makes you almost feel delirious.

When you sit down on Jeonghan's hips he feels like he is almost dying. Everyone he ever wanted felting very pale in comparison when he lay his eyes on you - hair already a mess, lips red from kissing him, flimsy shirt pooling at your waist. Your hands sneak under his shirt, and he almost laughs, damn he must be looking so dumb right now - feeling and behaving like a fucking virgin while his crush is on his lap, taking her time with him. You lift Jeonghan's shirt, dragging your hands underneath it, almost whining and frustrated when the shirt doesn't stay around his neck. Cute - he thinks, when you pout Jeonghan realizes he said that out loud.

"Just take it off," you whine again, tugging at his shirt.

Jeonghan just nods, holding your hips for leverage until he is sitting upright, holding the back of his shirt and taking it off in record time, before Jeonghan lies down again he feels your hand on his chin, holding him so you can kiss him again. Damn, he is lucky. But before he can think another thought you are pushing him back on the bad again, his hand on your hips.

Your hands travel on his body, caressing him - making him feel so close to losing his mind it is almost ridiculous. When Jeonghan's feels your fingers graze his neck he feels almost delirious, when your hand palms his chest and your digits press against his nipples it Is his time to whine, he almost feels like it is just too much, maybe he is closer than a step away from coming in his pants.

One of your hands is splayed against Jeonghan's stomach when the other one tugs the waistline of his pants, pulling the elastic band and letting it hit against Jeonghan's skin. You shuffle around his hips, sitting on his thighs now and Jeonghan is ready to complain when you tug on his pants again, this time actually getting the cloth to move and get it stopped by Jeonghan's hard-on.

"Baby," Jeonghan mumbles, "that's too much," he tries again, but apparently there is nothing he can say to make you stop - and in all honestly he doesn't want you to.

Jeonghan thinks he will die if he doesn’t get his dick free. Even though he doesn’t want to he takes the hand off your ass so he can take down his joggers, shoving his underwear down at the same time, his other hand still firm on your waist.

When your fingers close against Jeonghan’s shaft he almost sees stars. You give him a few experimental tugs. He feels so breathless, how is that even possible?

You almost scoff, looking at how even his dick is pretty - really, you should complain because it is so unfair. You press your finger on his slit, collecting the drop of precum, and the way that his dick twitch it makes your mouth water, but before you can even complete your thoughts Jeonghan’s hand is holding your face and bringing it down to another kiss.

If it was up to Jeonghan he would kiss you the whole night, but you had other ideas, using one hand to shove him until he is lying again when the other one is still on his dick. He is pretty sure he can feel your taste against your mouth but yet he feels parched. When you start to press kisses on his body, the only thing Jeonghan can do is take it.

Jeonghan thinks you want to wreck him. He feels you press your lips against his nipples, his hips buckling on its own, and you stroke his dick a little bit harder. Jeonghan can barely breathe, yet, without wasting a second you are doing it again - pressing your lips to his other nipple and licking it.

Before he can even wrap his mind around that you start to lick his belly and Jeonghan almost sees stars. He just feels everything, and apparently, your tongue dragging against his skin goes straight to his dick. Jeonghan doesn't know how, but he lifts himself up on his elbows, the view alone could make him cum - you still kissing him, lips on his hips, pressing Jeonghan's dick against his tummy, fingers rubbing his frenulum and he is just so sensitive that he groans before he can hold your hand making you stop.

"Too sensitive?" You ask and why the fuck do you sound so out of it when Jeonghan is being pulled and pushed around the edge?

"A little," Jeonghan answers breathlessly, his tongue dry against his mouth.

"Ok, noted," you say before doing something even worse - placing your lips on the same place before kissing the tip of his dick.

You wrap your lips around Jeonghan can't really control himself, he just pushes his hips slightly so you can take more of him, and god when you moan around him almost makes Jeonghan forget every trace of decency and good bed etiquette. But damn you just look so beautiful sucking his dick, one of your hands digging on his thigh and the other one still wrapped around his dick that it is physically impossible to not thrust his hips up.

"God," Jeonghan says and he sounds so defeated against his own ears, "fuck, you are so pretty," he tries again, looking at you and when he sees you looking up at him, eyes almost twinkling with the praise. And his mind almost snaps - oh, you felt that didn't you? The joy of discovering something every time Jeonghan's hips snapped. He gets it now. It is almost like a power trip. "So pretty, taking my cock," Jeonghan tries again and he almost can feel your moan against his dick before he can hear it.

Every word that Jeonghan mutters makes you take more of his dick into your mouth until he is hitting the back of your throat, god and how he can take that? Your lips around him, your tongue dancing around his dick, the hollowing of yours checks each time you suck him. He is delirious and out of his mind. He tries his best, he really does, but his hips have a mind of its own, and before he knows it he is thrusting up again making you gag around him.

Then your mouth leaves his dick and Jeonghan feels like he is about to collapse, everything just feels so much - the sound, the spit trail, the way your breath is irregular, fanning against his skin - and yet the intensity of feeling nothing makes him mind spin a little bit.

"Come here," Jeonghan mutters trying to catch his own breath. You crawl up his body and Jeonghan can only focus on how messy you look, lips glossy and pink, and he can see the faintest trail of spit on the corner of your lips, he presses his lips there before he drags his fingers on your lips, "I let you suck my cock, can I fuck you now?"

"Please?" You ask back and Jeonghan can feel his dick twitching.

"How do you want me?" Jeonghan says tugging at the bottom of your shorts and he almost laughs when you just shove everything down at once - and he could laugh really, at your desperation but first, he is way worse than you, second you are so pretty that he can't wrap his mind around the fact that everything he conjured up in his mind every time he thought about you when he was lazily stroking himself didn't do you justice.

"You can stay like that," you say, and before Jeonghan can mutter an answer you are already placing your knees on the sides of his hips, his hands automatically going to your waist, his mouth pressing against your collar bones.

One of your hands goes to Jeonghan's jaw, just holding slightly, while the other one wraps around Jeonghan's dick again - and he swears he would say something but his mind goes completely blank when you press your pussy on his dick. Your hips moving to make his cock disappear between your folds, making it drag against your clit, Jeonghan can feel how wet you are and god everything just feels so hot - he feels tight all over, like his muscles are contracting, even the ones he didn't know he had.

"Are you getting off like this?" Jeonghan questions and his only answer is a whine and your hips buckling against him, "Come on baby," Jeonghan tries again, hand now holding your hip, guiding your movements, "I can-" Jeonghan breathes, he doesn't want to say it but, "If you keep going like that, pussy so pretty against my cock, I will cum before I-"

"God," you groan against his shoulder, "can you really?"

"Yeah," Jeonghan almost laugh, his hand grabbing your ass. Of course, he can, he could've come already, but he is dragging this off, he is holding himself back. "Babe," Jeonghan calls you, mouth hot against your neck, "I could've come on your mouth, I'm so hard it is almost painful,"

"Can we-" You almost hiccup, "can we like that" you mumble again, "you can fuck me later," you say and Jeonghan almost sees white.

God, he could cum like that this wasn't even a question, the question was could you? The fact that you were over the edge like him was enough to drive him crazy.

Every time you drag your hips against him Jeonghan's let out a little moan, and he feels so wrecked that he just plants his lips on your neck, sucking at your skin. Jeonghan does not know if it is a reaction or is just because he is losing his mind but he can tell you are getting faster, the rhythm getting a little off, the way you breathe against him, everything just seems too much, and Jeonghan can't take it anymore.

The world stops spinning for a bit - everything just stays still.

Jeonghan is out of it until the sound of your breath brings him back. You are almost pouting. "Did you?" Jeonghan asks, himself breathless too.

"No," You whine and you feel so frustrated that Jeonghan pities you a little bit.

"It's okay," he says - because it is he will take care of it, it's not a problem.

But when Jeonghan looks down he almost cums again. It is so messy. Why there is so much cum? God, he blinks at the view - trying to take everything but mainly you, hovering on his lap.

"Han," You call and Jeonghan is brought back to reality.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry," he says, and it is not like he is in control anymore, his mind Is just gone, he just drops his hand - scooping his own cum and placing it own your pussy. You moan so loudly and Jeonghan can feel your desperation, pressing his digits more firmly against your clit, "Like that?" He questions and you can only nod your head, words falling. Jeonghan holds you close to him, your chest against his, your hand still going between your legs, his other hand holding your waits, "Fuck how can you be so hot," he starts going making you feel a light-headed, "I will eat you later okay?" Jeonghan says, "Don't worry, I will eat you out and I will let you fuck me, you just need to tell me what you need."

"Just," You hiccup, "Just like that."

Jeonghan listens to you, even though the position is not the best to his wrist and he could do so much better - but you just keep babbling on and on about how you are almost there, how he just needs to stay like that, how you are feeling so good that he listens to you, how could he not when you are almost coming undone against his fingers?

And then you bring Jeonghan's face up to a kiss, his mind was too focused on his fingers disappearing against your folds to catch on earlier, but you don't seem to mind when you lick against his mouth and finally cum. Jeonghan holds you against his body for a few seconds when he finally hears you groan.

"God I am so sticky," you complain and he finally laughs.

Jeonghan though, keeps his promise and he eats you out after that, and he fucks you too, and then, he just forgets he has his own room.

It is weird how much you two fit each other. And how seamlessly you two turn into boyfriend-girlfriend situations, or legally, husband-wife, but who cares about silly papers really?

Everything is normal really - Jeonghan keeps saying he need just a better Ttoram version before you two start promoting on social media. You two keep sharing dinners, and Jeonghan even makes a point about how the two of you need to go on a date. You bribe him, telling him he needs to call Cheol before the wedding - and he just shrugs and picks his phone up calling his best friend, you almost scream, it was that easy?

You two share everything, you don't know why but Jeonghan just chooses your bed to sleep in, you question him saying you want to sleep on his bed too - it just smells like you, is nice - he says before making a weird noise after face planting one of your pillows.

It comes to the point that you get weirded out when you wake up and he is not on your bed. When you pick yourself up and finally drag your body out of the bed - something weird happens, an unknown voice resonates in your house - okay not yours, Jeonghan's but...

You find Jeonghan in the kitchen, back facing you, sipping a cup of tea with another woman. A very gentle elderly lady, her hair is almost all white, and everything about her screams grandma. She sees you before you can say anything,

"Hi dear," even her voice is gentle.

"Han?" You ask when Jeonghan stares at you, eyes fondly taking up your sleepy self.

"Hey baby, come here," He says opening his arms, "come here Iris was talking about how she was visiting her third grandson can you believe that?"

You could, sure, everything about her screamed grandma in uppercase letters, but what was happening?

"Yes," the old lady answers, "where was I?" she claps before she picks back up again, "See like I was telling you, Aroon's mom is my youngest daughter, and her pregnancy hadn't been the easiest so that's why I couldn't bring the table back," she says and you neck almost snaps, looking at Jeonghan's, he is so proud of himself that you almost scream. "So I'm sorry dear, your husband told me how much it meant to you but I was out of town so-"

God, he looks so proud and so full of himself, he couldn't be happier right now. God, you are so deeply in love with him. You could marry him all over again.

[BONUS SCENE ONE - THE WEDDING}

“Are we doing this for real?” You ask and the world is kinda spinning a little bit, by your side, Jeonghan holds your hand. You both stare at this little chapel, the Elton John one because you said that you would prefer to be married with don't go breaking my heart, Tiny Dancer or even Berry and the Jets as a soundtrack than any of the Elvis’s songs and of course Jeonghan listened, he listened to everything you said. What a fucker, how could you not be in love with this guy? What? Wait-

“Of course, we are doing this, we made a bet,” Jeonghan says still staring at the chapel.

“Only because we made a bet,” you say looking at him. When Jeonghan turns his head to look at you something inside you sings a bit - like a doll with something in the inside broke and jiggling inside.

“Of course darling, only because we made a bet,” Jeonghan says, holding your hand firmly, he smiles at you, and out of nowhere he is running inside the building and you follow him around because why not?

It seemed like a fucking great idea, and you both did lose the bet, even though right now you can't really think straight - how does a bet work? Can both people lose a bet at the same time? You are not totally sure but you guess Jeonghan is right, it can happen.

[BONUS SCENE TWO - BIOGRAPHY]

When Jeonghan finally opens the hotel door you almost fall in the room, but before you fall face flat on the floor Jeonghan's hands save you from breaking your nose.

“Wow, what a gentlemanly husband I have,” You say, tapping his chest.

“Sure, sure, perfect husband material right here,” Jeonghan says pointing at himself the door still open.

“You are,” you gushed, hands on his shoulders searching for some kind of balance, using these high heels shows was so wrong, but you knew at least you would be pretty in your wedding pics, and in the end, that’s all that matters - the pictures for your own autobiography that you will make for your grandchildren. You always told Jeonghan that you would make one for him too, with every single thing he gave you as a safe keep and the collection of pictures you have of him in different times of his life. You have pictures of Jeonghan with his long hair, with his short hair, the time he died it was almost white because he thought it would be so so cool and ended up hating how it fucked up his scalp. You had the material, you had the story, and you could do his biography, the funny thing now it is that his grandchildren could be yours too.

“What are you laughing at?” Jeonghan says, kneeling at your feet and taking your shoes off, wow, a life-saver.

“I just thought about grandchildren,” you squealed in a high-pitched voice that you didn’t know you had until Jeonghan’s hand found your hips.

“Grandchildren?”He asks you softly.

“The biographies,” you say and Jeonghan nods, “I was thinking about how I always pictured us together when we were gray and old in a nursing home together all that jazz, but know that I thought about it, your family will be my family so the grandchild will be the same kids, I won’t do your biography for your grandchildren I will do your biography for my grandchildren as well that changes a lot of things,”

“Like what?” He asks amused

“I don’t know if I want to tell them about the time you were sure to have gonorrhea or something like that”

“I do think we can let this story die with us,”

“wait, now that I am thinking about it like we only have one family," You say, a pouting on your lips, and Jeonghan almost melts, "that means only one visit in the nursing home because like when our family as separate entities we would have two families so two visit yours and mine now that I think about it I think we should divorce

“We are not divorcing," Jeonghan says.

“We can annul It,” you try again.

“We won't do it,” Jeonghan says, shaking his head like you are talking nonsense.

“But two visits are better than one,” You say showing him your fingers and trying to make him understand that two are indeed better than one, boys like girls even sang about this, was Jeonghan dumb?

“I won't have a family if it isn't your family,” Jeonghan says plopping down on the bed.

“Of course you can have a family,” you are sure of it Jeonghan is amazing there is nothing stopping him.

“But I don't want to,” Jeonghan whines looking at you and you get it, you finally get it.

“Damn boy you are crazy about me,” you say laughing, laying on his side.

“Now you are catching up,” Jeonghan says while his arms close around you.

“Still think two is a bigger number”

[BONUS SCENE - SHOULD WE?]

Jeonghan, your husband of three years, is eating on the kitchen counter and you can almost hear the gears in his brain turning and twisting. Sometimes, you think that maybe, Jeonghan is like a toy that he built the week prior, if you pick him up and shake him around you can hear loose parts of him rattling inside of himself.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask while opening the fridge.

“Should we go to Vegas again?” He asks taking a bit of his breakfast.

“Vegas?” you say - your head peaking and your body stretched so you can face him while the fridge door is open.

“I was thinking we should renew our vows,” he says like he is thinking about buying lunch because he cannot bring himself to cook, “you know, I want you to actually remember our wedding.”

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

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lucciolaaaa · 7 months

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Silent treatment

Pairing: Theodore Nott x reader

Author's note: Hiii! This is the first ever fic I've written and English isn't my first language so be warned :)

Summary: Theo and you have been best friends since you could remember until he randomly starts ignoring you, maybe he just needs to work on his communication skills.

Warnings: Very small amount of swearing, kissing (but not graphic at all), I guess angst with happy ending, friends to lovers, probably grammar and spelling mistakes sorryyy, reader is implied Slytherin and pureblood

Theodore Nott was a man of few words. Even when he was with his friends he mostly listened to his rowdier counterparts, never feeling the need to be the center of attention in any way.

No one was surprised when he sat on the train on the first day of fifth year and didn’t say much, just a quick greeting and some strange sounds only his friends understood when they asked him something. It wasn’t weird to them, but it was weird when you sat down beside him and he barely even looked at you.

You and Theodore (or Teddy as you called him) have been close since you could remember. Your families being close always meant you were at the same boring events that he was obligated to attend. Ever since you were five years old and you bumped into each other on the balcony at some tedious christmas dinner you had been inseparable, it was hard to find one of you without seeing the other. When you turned 12 your parents had started to tease you, claiming there was love in the air and promising the pair would wind up together at some point. You would always look at each other and laugh every time someone mentioned this, how could you ever be in love with your best friend?

You hugged the boy expecting something in return, but you were disappointed when he barely even moved. You felt your heart break a little bit but chose to ignore it, maybe he was just tired or something. Even if he didn’t hug you there was no reason to ignore him.

“How was the party yesterday? Sorry I couldn’t go, my mom wouldn’t let me until I finished packing my bag and you know how long that takes me” you said with a giggle. Theo looked at you and gave a thumbs up and a tight lipped smile. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he had given the answer to anyone else but he was never like that with you, all of your friends were surprised, looking at you expecting a better answer while Theo turned towards the window. You decided to turn and talk to Pansy, if Theo doesn’t want to talk why would you make a one-sided effort?

It had been two weeks since fifth year started and Theo still wasn’t talking to you. You were extremely hurt, you had been fine, you hadn’t had a fight, you’re wondering if you did something wrong but can’t remember anything, no one understands his sudden change towards you. Pansy was mad at him, she had spent a lot of time talking to you and comforting you at night. Mattheo has asked Theo multiple times what his problem is but he wouldn’t give a straight answer.

You thought your friendship was over, your dearest friend was ignoring you and it hurt, it hurt more than anything. You had given up hope, tired of giving and not receiving. You were sat at your desk finishing some potions homework when an owl flew through your window and dropped a note on your desk. You were surprised not expecting anything at this hour of the night.

When you opened the not you were surprised, you could clearly tell it was Theo’s handwriting. ‘Meet me at the astronomy tower’ the note read. You quickly put on your shoes, willing to be caught by Filch it didn’t matter at the moment. You told Pansy you were leaving and then quickly left your room.

You rushed to the astronomy tower, you were out of breath with how fast you were running up the stairs and the three times you almost tripped on your way here.

“Did you run a marathon on your way here” Theo snickered after seeing he state you were in.

You resisted the small smile that wanted to break out on your face after hearing him joke like that again. “I’m not in the mood for jokes Theodore” you managed to say with a straight face even shocking yourself by using his full name.

“Wow, are we back to full name?” He tried to joke again, but after seeing your face he stopped “Sorry, no more jokes”

You looked him directly in the eyes, fighting back tears that you couldn’t tell if they came from hurt or anger. “I’m glad you’re done ignoring me but what do you want”

Theo looked a bit shocked at how serious you were but understood why you were acting like that “Look I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you” he said while walking closer to you.

“Sorry isnt really enough Theo, you’ve ignored me for two weeks without any reason” the tears you were trying to hold back were threatening to spill “Did I do something wrong?”

“No no no, you didn’t do anything wrong” Theo quickly responded, feeling guilty he was the one making you feel like that, he was used to comforting you instead. “I promise you did absolutely nothing wrong, its just me” after a pause he added “I don’t really have any reason to give you, I’m just terrible at expressing what I feel, I’m really sorry” his eyes bouncing around the room while he talked, not being able to make eye contact.

“What do you mean? Talk to me, I’m supposed to be your best friend not someone you ignore” Your voice cracking at the end.

Theo looked at you opening his mouth a few times but never finding the right word to start with. “I don’t want to be your best friend anymore, I can’t handle just being that” he looked at you and your confused expression “I want to be more, I really like you and I have for a while. I can’t stand when you talk to me about another guy because I need you to be mine. I preferred ignoring you than feeling the pain on not being enough for you” he said quietly finding your glossy eyes at the end.

“Theo you are so fucking dumb” you scoffed while he looked at the floor “How could you ignore me just because you like me, huh? You should have talked to me, I know its hard for you sometimes and I don’t blame you but you can’t just run away because you assume I don’t like you back when I clearly do”

“You like me back?” he looked back up at you with a smile

“Is that really he only thing you took out from what I said?” you said with a laugh, that beautiful laugh that Theo had missed for a while now. “You have selective hearing don’t you?” You asked while closing the space between you and looking into his eyes. “I really do like you Teddy, but you have to promise you’ll talk to me from now on, I will not stand being ignored, I’m here for you for whatever you need”

“Yeah, I know” his hands moved automatically, one hand towards your cheek and the other behind your neck “But I really do mean it, I want you to be mine”

You just smiled and leaned in connecting your lips your hands wrapping around his shoulders “I guess I can be yours Nott” you whispered before going back in for your well deserved kiss.

Maybe Theodore Nott was quiet and it was hard for him to express his emotions but in the end your parent were right, you would find your way to each other no matter the circumstances and hardships.

#theodore nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott #theo nott fic #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #slytherin #slytherin boys #theodore nott fic

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ghoul-bonez · 11 months

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~I Love You, I Trust You, I See You~

(Ao’nung x Fem! Deaf! Sully! Reader)

Summary: When the Sullys moved to Awa’atlu Ao’nung thought they were weird, knew they were weird. He took a particular hatred towards the older Sully kids, Neteyam was the perfect little follower, Lo’ak was constantly in trouble, Kiri was always off in her own world, and you. Just you. You seemed to always ignore him and never talk, but what he didn’t know was it’s because you couldn’t hear him.

Word count: 4.4k

Author’s note: This is the longest oneshot I’ve written at 4.4k words and 9 1/2 google docs pages… Sign language will be normal font, and bold & italics will be spoken, although I try my best to show which is going on.

~Masterlist~

I Love You, I Trust You, I See You

When people thought of the Sully family many thought of your siblings. They thought of Lo’ak who was always a troublemaker, causing chaos everywhere he went. They thought of Kiri who seemed so in tune with her surroundings that she might as well be Eywa herself. They thought of Tuk who was the youngest, still enamored by everyday life. They thought of Neteyam, a strong leader who would someday take on the role of Olo’eyktan after your father.

They never thought of you.

You who always seemed to be in your own little world. You who never had any friends. You who never talked. You who always seemed so attentive to the world around you, yet had no desire to join it.

When you were born after your twin Neteyam, a spike of fear had run through everyone in the room when you began to cry, but no sound came out. They feared you may not be breathing right, you may need your airways cleared. They feared something was wrong, and that was true.

When your parents or siblings thought about your family, they thought about you. They thought about how funny you were, always cracking jokes when there was a chance. They thought about how kind you were, taking a moment to check on everyone daily. They thought about how different you were than most.

They thought about you. You who couldn’t hear.

You always seemed to be in your own world, and that drew many away from you, they didn’t want to be friends with someone who they didn’t think was paying attention to them, and to be fair you weren’t paying attention to people most of the time. You preferred to direct your attention to the world around you, always keeping an eye out as you couldn’t hear danger coming.

When you had been caught by Quaritch and his men you had panicked, more than everyone else at least. You didn’t know what was going on, you didn’t know what they were saying, your lip reading was not dependable, and definitely not in english.

When your siblings arms were bound you couldn’t keep yourself calm, now you had no way of communicating, they couldn’t translate for you. Tears streamed down your face, eyes closed as tight as possible to try to calm yourself by blocking out the outside world.

When you felt your captor’s grip on your release your eyes shot open, looking around at the damage around you, multiple avatars dead on the ground. Then you ran, you ran faster than ever before in the first direction you saw.

You ran and ran, eyes trained on everything around you, and when you ran into someone and they grabbed you again it was like a shock. You let out a scream, the first noise anyone had ever heard you make. A noise nobody was aware you could make.

You turned to dead weight in an attempt to get out of their grasp, panic coursing through you again as your eyes couldn’t come into focus. However, the person dropped to the ground with you, pulling your face towards them and holding it still as you tried to thrash. Then they blew air into your face, and you realized you were safe.

When you were younger you would throw temper tantrums, as children do, where you would close your eyes to refuse to listen to your parents. Not being able to see them meant no sign language, which meant no having to listen to them. However your father found one thing always worked, blowing air on your face. Your eyes would shoot open, highly offended with your mouth dropped open, before you would sign at him, “Your breath is gross.” in retaliation.

You had never been more relieved for your dad’s stupid way of getting you to listen. Your eyes finally came into focus and you calmed down seeing his face, but that calm quickly turned into crying, sobbing. You couldn’t help but let out all of the pent up emotion inside of you, but eventually you calmed down and were able to stand back up, staggering your way home with the rest of your family.

Some time later when your parents had been arguing in your family kelku you hadn’t been paying attention as your siblings were, all huddled against the wall. You had been lost in your own world once again, not wanting to know what was being said as you were still processing what had happened earlier. You didn’t need anything on top of that as you feared it would make your careful stack of emotions you had constructed come tumbling down.

They had come tumbling down though as your parents announced you were moving, leaving. Leaving everything you had ever known, your home, your grandmother, the forest you loved so much. You couldn’t help it as you cried again, being held by your mother this time.

However as you thought about it you weren’t that sad. You had always liked the water, everyone not having to hear underwater made you feel more included, more like you belonged, and you had heard the Metkayina used sign language. Maybe this would be a chance to make friends for the first time in your life. Maybe you would be able to talk to people for once, nobody at home taking the time to learn American Sign Language, as your father had called it, like your family had.

One thing you hadn't taken into account was that they used a different version of sign language, but that had become very apparent when you first jumped into the water with Tsireya, Ao’nung, and Rotxo. They used signs you had never seen before, ones you didn’t recognize. You couldn’t help but feel a little beaten down at dinner, staying quieter than usual, not signing as much.

Afterwards your dad had asked you to step outside, waving a hand towards you as he exited the marui.

He sat down on the pathway, and you knew he expected you to join him, so you did. You sat next to him with your feet dangling in the water, looking out towards the horizon, refusing to look at him so you didn't have to have a conversation.

That didn’t last long though as he poked you in the arm, causing you to look at him offended, mouth open and eyebrows raised. He took this as his chance to speak, “You okay, kid?” He signed.

You sighed deeply, fidgeting with your hands before signing, “I’m okay, dad.”

You could tell he didn’t believe you, lips pressed together in a thin line and eyebrows furrowed, “You’re less talkative. What’s wrong?” He signed, proving he didn’t think you were telling the truth.

A frown came to your face, feeling like it was permanently there after the past few days or so, but you continued, “I’m disappointed.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprise and confusion on his face, “About what?”

You looked away from his face, instead choosing to watch his hands, you didn’t want to see the pity on his face, “We don’t speak the same language. I can’t communicate. Everyone else can at least talk to each other.”

His face softened, but you didn’t see it, “It’ll be okay. You’re a fast learner, so you will learn their language quickly, then you can make friends. If anyone actually wants to be your friend.” He meant it playfully, and you saw him laugh, so jammed your elbow in his ribs.

Then the conversation was over, your mom poking her head out of the doorway and saying something to your dad. He just stood up and gave you a look like he was asking, “You good?” and you nodded, “Yes.” back in return.

After your father’s words of encouragement you decided to work harder, learn faster, determined to be able to communicate with the people around you, and a few weeks later you were excelling whereas your siblings were still struggling. They were caught up on the differences of Metkayina sign language versus ASL but you had grasped that there weren’t differences, or similarities, and you would just be learning from scratch.

Even though you were doing well at it, working your way towards being fluent, you were worried about talking to the people, mostly because of one person in particular, Ao’nung. It was as if Ao'nung was determined to ruin your siblings' lives, and yours, but you didn’t know that.

You had seen Ao’nung’s attempts to cause hell for your siblings, nagging at them, laughing at them, and even trying to start fights, with Lo’ak in particular. Him messing with your siblings made you frustrated, but you weren’t aware of the taunts meant to make you upset, and laughing that was meant to make you feel like a target coming towards you from a distance.

The bullying towards your siblings had become more and more frustrating and you had begun showing your anger at home, being rougher with things than usual, and not wanting to go outside of the shared family marui.

It had been peaceful while you and your mom had been working on dinner, but she noticed you seemed to be far off, handling the food with rougher hands, “Are you okay, (Y/n).” Neytiri signed as you placed another fish over the fire.

You rolled your eyes at her, upset she was even insinuating something was wrong. In reality there was, but you didn’t want to admit that, “Yes mama, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” She had asked back, concern on her face as she looked at you closely.

You signed, “Yes.” Trying to end the conversation, but you knew she would just keep pushing.

You saw your mom think for a moment, her face scrunching up in concentration, “Well I am not.”

You frowned more, once again feeling like it had always been there since you left the forest, “Not what?”

She was frowning too now, “I’m not sure you’re fine. I see you isolating yourself. Even from me and your father.” She grabbed your hands, squeezing them gently to show her love in a little way.

Tears welled in your eyes, frustrated tears, tears that came because with all the stress recently they were the only way your brain knew how to process, to cope.

You pulled your hands from hers to wipe at them, “I’m sorry.” was all you could say.

She wiped the tears falling down your face before saying, “Why?”

You sniffled, running your hands down your face before signing, “I see Lo’ak, Kiri, and Neteyam being picked on, and there is nothing I can do. I can’t stand up to the bullies. I can’t say anything.”

“Okay, well soon you will be able to say something. You are learning their sign language, yes? I’ve heard from your siblings you are out working them.” She smiled at you and you could really see how proud of you she was.

You couldn’t help but crack a little smile although tears still threatened to fall, “Yes, mama. I’m getting better, but I’m worried it will be too late though.”

“I’m sure you will do your best, my ‘ite.” She thought for a second, “Why don’t you go try to talk to these kids tomorrow?”

You sighed, you didn’t want to, but you knew your mom would nag you until you agreed, “Okay. Love you.”

She smiled lovingly at you, “Love you too.” before pulling you into a hug.

When tomorrow came you didn’t even want to leave your marui, but you found the strength to do so. You did some of the breathing exercises Tsireya had taught you to try to calm your nerves, and they worked for the most part, steadying you and clearing your head.

However as soon as you stepped outside your marui you regretted it, not wanting to do what you had promised to your mother, but you knew you had to eventually. Eventually, which meant you could fool around as long as you wanted beforehand, and so you decided to settle down for a quick nap on the beach.

When you laid down and closed your eyes you quickly and easily fell asleep. You were still tired from last night when you struggled to sleep from your anxious thoughts.

When the Sullys moved to Awa’atlu Ao’nung thought they were weird, knew they were weird. He took a particular hatred towards the older Sully kids, Neteyam was the perfect little follower, Lo’ak was constantly in trouble, Kiri was always off in her own world, and you. Just you. You seemed to always ignore him and never talk, but what he didn’t know was that it's because you couldn’t hear him.

Ao’nung tried to not let anything get to him, especially when it came to people he didn’t like, like the Sullys, but for some reason you, (Y/n) Sully, had peeved him more than anyone or anything else. He had grown tired of you ignoring him when he shouted or laughed at you, like you didn’t even notice he was there, tired of you flat out avoiding him sometimes as you scurried away when he tried to approach you.

Of course he knew why, he had the same intentions to bully you and make you feel unwanted in Awa’atlu as your siblings. Of course you didn’t want this so you spent most of your time avoiding him, but for some reason instead of him not caring about it, it made him want to get under your skin even more.

When the sun rose today he decided today was the day to act. Today he would confront you head on, face to face. He would make you notice him, and he would make you feel awful in the process. So he gathered his friends, his goons, and they set off to find you.

They first checked with Tsireya who was with the rest of your siblings, but you were nowhere to be found, they all insisted they hadn’t seen you. Then they combed the beach, going from one end to the other, and on the far end they found you peacefully asleep on the soft sand.

He couldn’t help but notice how cute you looked asleep and peaceful, but he quickly shook it off, shouting at you, “Wake up, freak!”

He was targeting your extra finger and the hair above your eyebrows, like he had your siblings because he knew that got to them, and hoped it would do the same to you.

When you didn’t stir he tried shouting again, assuming you were awake, but trying to act asleep to avoid him, “What is wrong with you? Do you not care or are you stupid avoiding me?”

His friends laughed at you when you still didn’t move, eyes not cracking open and your breathing staying the same, so he took the next step, trying something physical. He kicked sand up and over you and finally you stirred, sitting straight up and looking around for the source of the sand, and when you saw him your heart dropped, a lump forming in your throat.

“There we go, now you are paying attention.” He snickered.

You tried to read his lips, but he spoke too fast, and you just stayed silent. You cocked your head to the side, eyebrows drawn together in a look of confusion.

You hesitated for a second, but were about to sign something when he spoke again. “Do you not speak? A silent freak, interesting.” You still didn’t understand exactly what he was saying, but his friends all laughed at you, and although you couldn’t hear it it made you feel small.

“I’m sorry. I can not hear you.” You signed, using Metkayina sign language this time.

He scoffed, “I do not believe that. I think you just don’t want us to bother you, but here we are.” He laughed in your face.

“Please use your hands.” You tried to communicate, but they just wouldn’t listen to you.

“No.” He sneered, this you understood, one single word.

Your mouth dropped open, offense written all over it. You knew he was disrespectful, didn’t care about others feelings, but you would make him care, “I can not hear. I am deaf.”

He was about to retort against you again, but when he had been searching for you earlier that day Neteyam knew he meant trouble, so when he found you he stayed in the shadows, watching, but now Ao’nung had taken it too far.

He surged forwards, anger consuming him, “Step off bro. She can’t hear you.”

“Yeah that is what she just said.” He rolled his eyes, “I do not care though, it is better if she can not hear me. Means I can make fun of her without her knowing.” He signed the last part so you could understand.

You shrunk back, standing to hide behind Neteyam. You tugged on his arm, “It’s okay.” You signed.

“It’s not okay, (Y/n).” He rubbed a hand down his face, turning to Ao’nung, “You need to leave her alone.”

“Whatever.” Ao’nung scoffed before turning and walking away.

Now he knew why you seemed to ignore him, you just didn’t know he was talking to you. You were probably avoiding him because you didn’t know their sign language yet. He felt bad for some reason. He usually wouldn’t feel bad about his bullying but with you it felt different now knowing this.

He couldn’t show his feelings though, worried about his little group making fun of him, but he slowly started to back off of you, and your siblings some as well. Whenever one of his “friends” would ask why, he would reply something like “We can not make fun of a cripple.” and roll his eyes, still a jab at you, but less so.

At some point you became all that consumed his thoughts, on his mind at all times, and whenever he would see you with his sister, or your siblings, he would feel the need to insert himself into the conversation, but he always refrained. He wanted to talk to you, to apologize, but he feared judgment from his “friends” who are just as nasty as he was.

Eventually he couldn’t hold it in anymore, heading to your marui to ask to talk with you, in the way you would understand. When he knocked on the doorway of the family home Lo’ak was the first to notice him, glaring at him and nudging Neteyam in the side, directing his attention towards Ao’nung.

Neteyam stood before either of his parents even noticed the boy in the doorway, stalking over to him and dragging him down the pathway so they could talk, “What do you want?” He hissed out.

Ao’nung cleared his throat, but the words still came out small, nervous, “I came to apologize to (Y/n)...”

“No.” Was all Neteyam said before turning away and starting to walk back into the Sully family’s home.

Ao’nung grabbed his arm before he got too far away, “Please. Please let me talk to her.” He begged, something he didn’t like to do, but it was necessary.

Neteyam sighed, “Fine, but if you do anything I will chop your head off myself.” He threatened the boy, “I’ll go get her.”

It wasn’t long before you stepped out of the marui, a frown on your face and hands he could see shaking, “What do you want?” You signed, hands shaking with nerves.

“I came to say sorry.” He started off, “I’m sorry for bullying you, and your siblings. I promise I won’t do it any more.”

“And?” You asked, knowing there was more.

He looked nervous now, hands shaking as he signed, “I wanted to extend the offer of friendship.”

You looked shocked now, “You want to be friends with me?”

He nodded his head, smiling shyly, “Yes. Absolutely.”

You smiled this time, relieved he would be leaving your siblings alone, and excited to learn more about him, about what he was really like under the bad boy shell, “Okay, friend.”

He just nodded at you, “I have to go now. See you at lessons with Tsireya tomorrow?”

“Of course.” You responded.

When you entered the marui again everyone's eyes were on you, a light blush on your face, “I made a friend.” You smiled.

You could see your parents cheering and clapping for you, but your siblings' faces were unsure, you would have to reassure them later but for now you were all having a family night, playing games and handing out things you had made for each other with the new resources you were getting used to using. They were clunky and awkward, but you would get better, it reminded you of something, of someone.

As days passed into weeks you and Ao’nung had grown closer, him pretty much taking over your lessons, stealing you away from Tsireya who was sad to see you go, but happy for her brother for making a friend, a real friend, not one of his goons that tended to hover around him at all times. You had seemingly broken down his bad boy aesthetic and his goons had since left him, moving onto another leader to follow, still as nasty as ever.

You were grateful for him letting his walls down around you, allowing you to see him, and soon you did. You saw him as more than you ever had before. You couldn’t help but think about courting him, of trading little handmade gifts, and sharing little intimate moments of happiness throughout the day.

It seemed as if he wanted the same as he began bringing you gifts, starting as a little armband he made from you out of hard to find shells he had spent many hours trying to find, then it moved onto necklaces and bracelets. Each was more intricate than the last.

When this started you began to bring him things too, poorly made things because using dried seaweed and palm leaves were different from the materials of the jungle, but you managed. Even though they weren’t the best quality he proudly wore them, gladly accepting every gift you would give.

Everyone had noticed by now, the traded jewelry, the touches that lingered a little too long, and the longing looks when you weren’t together. What baffled people most however was not Ao’nung’s seemingly peaceful side coming out, but the fact that neither of you had officially come out and asked if you were courting.

You were courting, you both knew that, but Ao’nung wanted to put it into words, he wanted to make it official, but he felt the need to fix a couple things first, to get a couple blessings.

So he went to the person he thought would be easiest first, your mom. She had seen you two from afar and already had talked to you about it, encouraging you to pursue him and get what you wanted. She had said she was not Tsahík, but Eywa had shown her signs. So when Ao’nung asked she immediately gave him her blessing, knowing this was something not just he wanted, but something you wanted too.

Then he went to your dad. He was a fierce warrior who commanded respect, and Ao’nung tried his best to be respectful, carefully wording his proposal of courting his daughter. Of course Jake had been hesitant at first, but eventually he caved after Ao’nung had mentioned he already had Neytiri’s blessing.

Finally he went to Neteyam, your twin brother, your best friend since birth. Neteyam was adamantly against it, wanting nothing to do with Ao’nung, and wanting his sister to have nothing to do with him either. He was still on the edge of forgiving Ao’nung, swaying over a cliff where falling meant forgiving Ao’nung for his wrong doings, and when Ao’nung explained his love for you, his intentions to never hurt you and treat you with the respect you deserve Neteyam fell over the cliff, giving the Metkayina boy his blessing.

Once he had gotten their blessings he had invited you to the beach where he had first intentionally seeked you out. You were hesitant to go back there with him, but you gave in, trusting him wholeheartedly.

You love him. You trust him. You see him.

When you got there he pulled you to sit down with him, you both facing each other, and he signed, letting his heart out, letting his feelings show, “I am sorry for any times I have hurt you. I was an ass and a fool, and I wish I had never caused you upset or harm. I am sorry for bullying your siblings too, they did not deserve it, but I was scared by the new people and what they would bring. I now see I should have helped like my sister. I should have been making you feel at home here, not doing the opposite.”

“It’s okay. We’re past that.” You reassured him.

He nodded, continuing, “Now I see how special you are. I see how much you’ve changed me and my views on life. I am grateful for the person you have shaped me into. I am grateful I got the chance to make it up to you. I want to court you. Officially.”

You felt your heart swell, butterflies in your stomach, and you were sure it was showing on your face, “I would love that.”

You moved your hands carefully to cup his face, holding it there as you looked into his eyes, hoping he understood how grateful you were for him too, then you pulled him in, lips brushing against each other before they fully made contact. It was magical, unlike anything you had felt before, and you were happy it was him making you feel this way. So happy, so loved.

When you pulled apart he smiled widely at you, grabbing your hands and giving them a gentle but tight squeeze before using them to say, “I see you. I see you.”

You sign your thoughts from earlier, “I love you, I trust you, I see you.”

He doesn’t say anything else, just smiles, and pulls you back in for another kiss, and you feel at peace. You know he is yours, and you are his. You know he will never leave you, and you will never leave him. You know he loves you, and you love him. You know he sees you, and you see him.

Word Bank:

Olo’eyktan (Clan leader)

Kelku (Omatikaya homes)

Metkayina (Ocean Na’vi)

Marui (Metkayina homes)

‘Ite (Daughter)

Awa’atlu (Metkayina village)

Tsahík (Spiritual leader)

Eywa (Na’vi Goddess)

3K notes · View notes

rxmqnova · 4 months

Text

Misunderstanding

NO ONE'S POV "Natty, no" Y/N whines, holding her girlfriend tightly and not wanting to let go of her.

"Baby, we're doing this almost every morning" Natasha sighs, trying to peel Y/N off of herself. She wants to go for a run, but Y/N just doesn't want to let her.

"Why can't you just skip one time, cuddle with us and then have breakfast with us?" Y/N asks, a sigh escaping her lips when Natasha gets out of her hold.

"I will cuddle with you two after my run, I promise. I'll see you soon" The redhead smiles, pecking Y/N's lips, then walking over to the other side of the bed and kissing still sleeping Wanda's forehead.

And she's gone, making Y/N let out a little groan, so she cuddles up to Wanda, the witch unconsciously wrapping her arms around her immediately.

After a while of cuddling and waking Wanda up, the two change from their pajamas and make their way to the kitchen for breakfast.

"Pancakes?" Wanda suggests, knowing her girlfriend never says no to that, smiling when Y/N nods eagerly.

Wanda gets into making pancakes immediately, Y/N trying to help her as best as she can and soon the breakfast is ready, so they sit down and get into eating.

Though Y/N suddenly starts looking at Wanda, deep in her thoughts, thinking about a conversation she had with Wanda yesterday while chewing on a piece of pancake.

"You should dye it" Y/N says all of a sudden, her full mouth making it all sound differently.

Wanda's been thinking about dying her hair red. She knows Y/N has a thing for redheads and she kinda wants some change as well.

Although Y/N's sentence sounded more like 'you should diet', making Wanda just stare at her girlfriend, wondering if she's serious or not.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Y/N furrows her brows in confusion when Wanda sends her a glare.

But that question makes Wanda even more angry and hurt, so she just stands up and leaves without a word.

"Wanda, what's wrong? Come back!" Y/N calls after her girlfriend completely confused, wondering what in the world has just happened that it made her girlfriend upset. "Did I say anything wrong?" She asks herself.

———

Ever since this morning, Wanda's been avoiding Y/N which is hard for both of them and Y/N's still completely confused about what she did wrong.

"Hey, do you know what's up with Wanda? She's acting weird" Natasha sighs, flopping down on the couch next to Y/N who's watching a movie right now.

"I have no idea. She's mad ever since I told her she should dye her hair this morning. I mean… she's wanted to dye her hair, so I don't know what's gotten into her" Y/N sighs, resting her head on Natasha's shoulder.

"I'm gonna go talk to her" Natasha decides, pecking Y/N's lips with a kiss before standing up.

"Can you ask her if she wants to watch The Dick Van Dyke Show with me? I know it's her favorite and I feel like watching it" Y/N asks. She feels bad that Wanda's avoiding her for whatever reason and this might make it up at least a little bit.

"Sure, I'll ask her" Natasha shoots her girlfriend a quick smile before turning around, ready to walk away.

"And you come watch too! You promised me cuddles this morning!" Y/N calls after the redhead, making Natasha chuckle.

"Sure, детка!" Natasha calls back on which Y/N smiles and gets into looking for Wanda's favorite episode of the sitcom. (baby)

While Y/N's busy with finding the right episode, Natasha just stepped into her shared room with Wanda and Y/N, finding Wanda sitting on the bed and reading a book.

"Hey, Y/N's asking if you want to watch The Dick Van Dyke Show with her?" Natasha starts, taking a seat on the bed next to her girlfriend.

"I do not. And you can tell her she's sleeping on the couch tonight" Wanda answers coldly, not taking her eyes off of the book.

"Oh… What did she do?" Natasha asks, confusion written all over her face.

"She was being mean this morning. She told me I should diet" Wanda simply answers.

"Diet? She told me you got mad when she told you to dye your hair" Natasha explains.

"She never said anything about hair. She just said 'you should diet'" Wanda reasons, her eyebrows also furrowing in confusion.

"Why don't we just ask her then?" Natasha suggests, standing up and holding her hand out for Wanda who groans and accepts her girlfriend's hand, following her to the living room.

"Oh, you're here. I found Wanda's favorite episode" Y/N smiles at both her girlfriends, her eyebrows furrowing when she notices the expressions on both girls' faces. "What's wrong?"

"Y/N, did you tell Wanda she should diet this morning?" Natasha asks, breaking the akward silence as Wanda hasn't been doing anything but glaring at the girl on the couch.

"What? I never said that. Why would I tell her that?" Y/N looks at the redhead confused.

"You did! You said 'you should diet' when we were having breakfast" Wanda scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I never said that! I told you to dye your hair and then you got mad and went away! I never said anything about a diet!" Y/N defends herself, also crossing her arms over her chest.

"…. Honey, you were talking with full mouth again, weren't you?" Natasha raises an eyebrow, assuming she found the issue.

"No?… Okay, maybe" Y/N admits, knowing this bad habit she has ever since she was just a little girl.

"See, mystery is solved" Natasha sighs in relief, hoping the two will be okay again and she can peacefully watch TV with both of them.

"… Were you really talking about my hair?" Wanda asks after a while of thinking, playing with the sleeves of her hoodie which she does every time she's nervous.

"Yeah. I think red hair would suit you" Y/N smiles, standing up and walking to the brunette, taking Wanda's hands in hers. "Wands, I love everything about you and I'd never want to make you feel insecure about your body or anything. I love every single thing about you"

"… I'm sorry. It just sounded differently and I got so mad and-"

"Hey, it's okay. How about the three of us just snuggle up on the couch and watch your favorite episode of your favorite sitcom?" Y/N suggests, holding one hand for Natasha so she would join them.

"Well, but that sounds like a great plan" Wanda smiles, leaning in and pecking Y/N's lips with a kiss. "I love you"

"I love you too… both of you"

----------------------

WandaNat masterlist

Masterlist

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auras-moonstone · 9 months

Note

OMG!!! IDK IF YOU'RE TAKING REQUESTS BUT IF YOU ARE CAN YOU DO A NERD!ETHAN X CHEER CAPTAIN!READER. WHERE ETHAN THINKS SHES GOING TO BE REALLY RUDE BUT SHE TURNS OUT TO BE REALLY SWEET?! THEN, THEY TAKE AN INTREST IN EACHOTHER??? YOU DONT HAVE TO BUT IF YOU DO THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH!! AND I LOVEEEEE YOUR WORK!

i have been thinking of doing something like this for a while actually!! hope you like it🤍

i know places — ethan landry

word count: 1,872

pairing: nerd!ethan landry x cheerleader!fem!reader

summary: y/n needs help with her english essay and nerdy ethan offers his help

WHEN ETHAN HEARD HIS NAME BEING CALLED, EVERYTHING STOPPED. It wasn’t the fact that it was literally shouted aloud in the hallway, making everyone’s attention drift towards the person who had yelled it. It was the fact that said person was Y/N Y/L/N—cheer captain and prettiest girl in the school. Why was she saying his name? Actually, how did she even know his name?

Ethan didn’t have time to think, because she was moving towards him like a full on rainstorm and Ethan felt his legs getting weak, as if there were about to fail him. “Ethan!” she said breathlessly from running down the hall.

“H-hi” Ethan replied in a low voice, blood rushing to his face because of the unwanted attention. She was going to say something really hurtful and everyone was going to hear it. Cheerleaders making fun of people like Ethan wasn’t something uncommon, he had experienced it countless of times.

“Shit. I caused a scene, didn’t I? I’m so sorry” she sounded genuine, which made Ethan confused. Where was the insult? “I called your name before you exited the classroom, but you didn’t seem to hear me”. Ethan’s brain seemed to have been failing him because he was not able to utter a single syllable. “Anyways, you left your coat” she showed him the blue cloth that belonged to him with a tiny smile on her face.

He cleared his throat, coming back to his senses “Oh… thank you”

“You’re welcome!” Y/N said with a bright smile. “I’m Y/N, by the way”.

“I’m Ethan” he did an awkward wave, which the cheerleader thought was very adorable.

“Yeah, I know. You sit next to me in English” Y/N let out a little laugh.

The boy laughed nervously “Right, I know, I just thought you wouldn’t remember”

“Well, I remember you, Ethan Landry” she assured him with a smile, making him blush even harder. This reaction brought Y/N a sense of victory, and she decided she enjoyed seeing the boy blush for her “Are you taking the coat or you’re going to keep staring at me?”

“Oh, sorry” he grabbed the coat with shaky hands. That’s when Y/N noticed the piece of paper he was holding and the A+ written in red marker.

“You got an A+ in the Brave new world essay?” she asked surprised.

“Y-yeah” was this the part she was going to mock him? He knew her being nice was too good to be true.

But, once again, she surprised him. “Do you mind if I take a look at it? I didn’t do so well in mine” Y/N asked, feeling a bit embarassed by confessing that.

“Yeah, sure, no problem”

As she read, he took the opportunity to admire her. Y/N’s shiny hair fell flawlessly over her face, creating some kind of curtain. He wanted to tuck it behind her ear, but it would be extremely weird. His eyes then went to her face: her eyes were furrowed as she took in the words written on the paper, and she bit her lip in concentration—Ethan felt the need to brush his finger against it, because that action drove him crazy—and suddenly his heart clenched when he noticed her saddened expression.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked softly.

“I’m not doing so well in English. If I don’t pass the make-up exam, I won’t be able to keep my position as cheer captain”

“You still have a chance, then” he tried to light up her mood.

“Yeah, but if this is what I have to write in order to pass… I’m screwed. I could never write something like this” Y/N sighed in frustration “Your writing is completely amazing, by the way”

“Thanks. I could tutor you, if you want” the words left his mouth before he could think twice.

“Really?”

Her eyes shone with such hope that he couldn’t say anything but, “Yes”.

Y/N wanted to hug him so bad, but she noticed how uncomfortable he was under the gaze of others, and her touching him was only going to make things worse for him. People were already whispering things such us: ‘Why is Y/N talking to that nerd?’ ‘Does he even go here?’ ‘Isn’t he the one who is always answering questions in Econ?’

She resisted the urge to scowl at every single person in the hallway. Why they gotta be so mean? “Thank you so much! When are you available?”.

“Any day, to be honest. But you have cheerleading practice, so you tell me”

He was so considerate and adorable she wanted to cry. “So make-up exam is this friday, meaning we have today, tomorrow and Thursday. Is it okay if we meet those days at 6:30?”

“Yeah, no problem. Can you come over to my dorm? The library is always crowded during exam weeks”

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll give you my number so you can text me your address” he handed her his phone and typed her number. “There you go”

“I’ll text you as soon as classes finish”

“Thank you so much, Ethan. You don’t know how thankful I am”

“What if I turn out to be the worst tutor ever?” he joked.

Y/N laughed. “I know you won’t. And even if you were, I’m still very thankful you are spending your free time doing this for me”

He shrugged “It’s my pleasure”

Y/N STARED AT THE RESULT IN COMPLETE SHOCK. Were her eyes deceiving her? Was Mr. Keating pulling a joke on her?

“Excellent work, Mrs. Y/L/N. Your analysis was espectacular and your writing and vocabulary have improved immensely in such short time” Mr. Keating told her.

“Thank you so much!” she exclaimed, grabbing the paper as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

“May I ask, did you have help or did you study on your own?” there was no accusatory tone, just curiosity.

“Ethan helped me, sir. I definitely wouldn’t have passed without him”

“Oh, that’s nice of him. He’s an excellent student and writer”

“The best” Y/N nodded in agreement. “Speaking of him, I should thank him, for the hundredth time in the past three days”

ethan!!!!!! 🥹

i need to talk to you.

okay! see you after school? 👀

no. right now

oh, everything okay?

yes, don’t worry. i know a place we can talk alone

under the bleachers?

sure. see you in 5?

see you! <3

If there was one thing Y/N knew about Ethan before he even started tutoring her was that he was completely terrified of attention. That’s why they never talked at school, only texted (a lot). Both of them became close, and soon tutoring wasn’t the only thing they hung out for. After they were done studying, she would stay for dinner and a movie, and together they shared their opinions on them.

Y/N also found out that, when he wasn’t around students and their gossiping mouths, Ethan was beyond funny and outgoing. And also, while he was adorable and sweet, Y/N discovered that he had a flirty side—which she enjoyed very much and she always let him know that by blushing like a school girl. It was safe to say that the girl had absolutely fallen for the boy’s charm.

And Ethan fell for her charm too. She was kind, talented, beyond smart—which she always said was a lie, but Ethan was always there to contradict her—understanding, and down to earth. He couldn’t believe he once thought Y/N was a mean, popular, spoiled cheerleader. She was beautiful and amazing and he liked her more than he had expected.

“Ethan!” the girl’s voice instantly made his heart start racing. The brunette raised his head from the book he was reading to see the cheerleader running towards him. Next thing he knew, she threw herself at him, and he fell on his back. Thankfully, he had been sitting so it didn’t hurt.

“Hi there!” Ethan laughed, hugging her tightly. He would never get tired of her closeness.

“I did it!” Y/N exclaimed showing her the exam, still lying on top of him.

Ethan smiled proudly “I knew you could do it! Congrats, cheer captain!”

“Thank you” she whispered, voice cracking.

“Hey… what’s wrong?”

“Happy tears. I just can’t believe I did it” she said, smiling widely. “My friends joked about having to look for a new captain, which I knew it wasn’t a joke at all and they were actually concerned. And my parents were also thinking what they were going to say when I went home with the news that I was no longer a cheerleader… but I did it, Ethan!”

“That’s awful, Y/N” he frowned. She deserved so much better “Are you seriously telling me no one had an ounce of faith in you?”

“Well, there is one person who always betted on me. He would never get tired of telling me how smart I was, even when I was constantly saying the opposite” her eyes looked so bright, he wondered if he would ever be able to look away.

“Oh yeah? So he cheers the cheerleader?” he joked, making her laugh.

“Dork” she beeped his nose “Anyways, you want me to tell you about this guy?” Ethan nodded, sitting up. Y/N remained on his lap. “So, I could talk about him for days, but I’m going to keep it simple and tell you my favorite things about him. First of all, he has the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen and I swear I could stare at them forever. He’s very passionate about movies, and his little rants about them are the best thing I’ve ever heard. He gives the best hugs in the world, but then again I might be a little biased because I just love being in his arms”

“You do?” he looked up at her in awe.

“I do” she affirmed. “He’s the only one who sees me as more than just a popular cheerleader. He’s sweet and sincere. He blushes a lot when I compliment him, just like you’re doing right now” she teased. “His smile… holy shit, it makes me forget about everything. Especially when they are directed at me”.

“He sounds handsome and amazing” he joked.

“Oh, he is. And that is why I like him so much” Y/N finally confessed.

Ethan’s jaw almost reached the floor. “You like him?”

“So much it’s physically hurting” she said, fixing the collar of his shirt.

“He likes you too” Ethan cupped her jaw.

“Then he should kiss me”

So he did, and he didn’t care anymore if anyone saw them. Their lips fitted perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle that went together, and nothing had ever felt so right for them.

“I want to be with you, Eth. I know you don’t want people to whisper about you, and I’m afraid if you are with me it’s going to be inevitable. But I want you to be my boyfriend, I don’t care if we have to keep this a secret”

Ethan shook his head “No. No secrets. I want to hold your hand in plain sight, I want to kiss you. Let them say what they won’t, I won’t hear them”

Y/N smiled and went in for another kiss. “Let’s go now. I want to show them I have the most amazing boyfriend in the world”

#ethan landry #ethanlandry #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry fic #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x reader #scream iv #scream fanfic #scream 6 #scream movies

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 10 months

Text

The Reading Chair

pairing: Remus x reader

tags / warnings: NSFW! (minors do not interact), smut, smut, and… more smut; established relationship, sex, fem!reader, slight praise kink

notes: written as a continuation of my previous fic, but either can be read alone; the only context is that in this au remus and reader opened a bookshop together

word count: 2.9k

“I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for coming in,” you say with a smile to the last customer of the day. You’re completely knackered as you turn the sign from “open” to “closed” behind her. It had been a hectic day, the kind you were grateful for in the grand scheme of it all but ready to wrap up by its end. You’re rubbing your tense neck as you make your way back over to the counter, where there remains work to be done. You’re having to read the words and numbers over and over again to make sense of them, your mind not in it at all, as you look guiltily over at your book sitting beckoningly next to your paperwork. A break won’t hurt, you think to yourself. I’ll still get all this done later. I just need a little energy first. You snatch up the book and head to your comfy armchair in the corner, delving into the next chapter that you’ve so eagerly been anticipating.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been reading when you hear the door open and close. You see his messy brown hair over the shelves before you see him fully.

“Y/N?” Remus’s voice calls. “Hey, Rem,” you speak up. He walks past the counter, around the shelves to your reading nook and leans against them, observing you intently with an adoring grin on his face. You stick your tongue out at him.

Laughing, he tells you, “You know… When I think of you when we’re apart,” he starts moving slowly toward you. “Which is most of the time when we’re apart, if I’m honest…” A self-satisfied chuckle as he gets closer. “I usually picture you right here. As you are, right now.” He kneels in front of your chair and gives you a quick kiss in greeting. “So beautiful.” His eyes travel your face. “With your nose in a book.” He grabs your book from you and places it on the table. You go to complain, but he stops you with a knowing look, a cheeky grin, and continuing, “And your legs in this weird position you find so comfortable.” He’s chuckling as he runs his hands up and down your thighs. You uncross your legs and let them rest on either side of him; he keeps rubbing them. You wrap your arms around his neck. “Is that so?” you tease. “Mmhmm,” he confirms, kissing you again, lingering longer this time.

“I usually think of you naked,” you tell him, and he breaks into a barking laugh.

“Oh yeah?”

“Hm,” you nod, smiling warmly at him. He moves his hands up your sides and rubs your shoulders a bit. You let out a long, loud sigh you didn’t realize you had pent up. “Long day?” he asks knowingly. You just nod. It’s a little odd with his sitting in front of you, but he begins massaging your neck and shoulders. “I’m sorry I had to go during the rush,” he says sincerely. “Don’t be silly, Rem. That was for work, too. And it’s good — really good — business going up. And I can handle it.” “I know you can, lovely, but I don’t like seeing you so drained.” His hand caresses your face then rests in your hair and scratches at your scalp soothingly. It feels wonderful, sending tingles down your spine. You hum and lean into it. With your eyes closed, you miss the way his eyes travel down your torso. His grip in your hair gets a little bit tighter and his thumb traces the curve of your jaw. “I can help you relax, you know…” He sounds different. You open your eyes and see the way he’s looking at you.

“Oh?” Oh.

“Mmm.” His sound is guttural, and you’re not sure if it’s meant to mean “yes.” His hand on your hip tightens then slips under your shirt. “Here?” you ask, meaning to sound skeptical, sounding slightly desperate instead.

“I locked up behind me,” he tells you as he closes the distance between you and kisses you hard, his tongue immediately plunging into your mouth. You kiss him back ardently. His hand moves up your body, grazing your stomach then your chest, then resting on your neck. His hands now on either side of your face, he holds you firmly before gripping it and moving your head sideways, kissing down your jaw and neck slowly and sloppily. He stops at the sensitive spot below your ear and sucks. You moan and inadvertently rut forward. You feel his smile against your now moist skin. His teeth graze over your pulse point, and he keeps heading lower, pulling your shirt down out of his path as he kisses his way to your collar bone. He licks across it then just nuzzles into the crook of your neck. “I want to make you feel good,” he whispers hoarsely, and your whole body shivers in response.

“Remus,” you sigh. “I want to. Fuck, I want to. But maybe we should wait till we go home.” You’d messed around at the shop before, but never further than this. He shakes his head “no” where it rests flush with your body and kisses your neck as he says, “Uh-uh. Too long.” He leans back, pulls your shirt over your head, and connects your lips again urgently. You melt into him and kiss him back with matching passion. His hands are everywhere as you make out then they come to rest on your bare hips as he stops the kiss but stays close, his forehead resting on yours, his breathing heavy.

Staring into your eyes, the hint of a smile across his swollen lips, he moves his fingers painstakingly slowly up your back. You’re slightly sweaty and extremely turned on, and you shiver again at his touch. He bites his lower lip as he unfastens your bra. You feel the weight of the loss of the support, and it feels nice. His hands come up to the straps and they pull them down equally slowly. The slightest motion would make the cups fall forward now, but you stay still, staring at him from under lidded eyes and long lashes. His hands come up to where your chest becomes your breasts, and his fingers caress down with a light touch until he reaches the tops of your bra cups. He continues the motion seamlessly, dragging the fabric down until it drops into you lap. His hands still floating above your breasts, featherlight touches electric, he brings his thumbs to your quickly hardening nipples and runs them across once lightly then again roughly. You whimper in response, and he tweaks your nipples between his fingers, abandoning the teasing, pushing and tugging harshly. Your whimpers grow louder, and he swallows them with a rough kiss before quickly moving his head down and wrapping his lips around your hard nipple. Moaning as he sucks on your tit, he kneads the other, and you hold his head to you with a firm grip in his hair. He runs his tongue around and around the bud then gives it a long wet lick before sucking it into his mouth again and humming around you. You’re loud now as the pleasure shoots through you, and as he switches from one breast to the other, planting a kiss in between them along the way, he gruffly tells you, “Fuck, I love your noises,” and after sucking your other nipple harshly adds, “and your tits. Fucking hell your tits.” Your chuckle mutates into a screamy moan as he bites carefully down on your aching bud, his tongue playing with it between his teeth. He bites and licks, kisses and sucks, and when he’s through playing with you, he kneads your chest roughly with both hands as his mouth kisses yours forcefully. You squirm in the seat as you push your tongue into his mouth and your chest into his hands.

Both of your breathing is coming loud and laboured as he pulls back and stares at you for a moment. With his panting mouth open, he smiles brightly at you, brings his forehead back against yours, and moves his hands to the button of your trousers.

The idea of protesting flitters across your mind, but unable to find a good enough reason not to give in, a fraction of a second later, your hips are in the air to aid in his removal of your trousers. You’re sitting there in only your knickers, wet and panting, and he pulls further away than he has since he came down to you.

Looking you over with almost black eyes, he chuckles and says, “Sorry, love, but I have to commit this to memory. You’re so fucking hot, I think I’ll get off on this for the rest of my life.” You laugh lightly and ask, “Still going to think of me reading when we’re apart?” You stick your chest out and open your legs wider. His eyes rolling to the back of his head, he groans animalistically and instinctively grabs the bulge in his trousers at the sight.

“Sure I will, lovely. Just naked too.” And with that, he delves back into you, starting at your mouth and worshipping his way down your neck, your chest, your stomach, till his face was even with your cunt. He nuzzles it playfully, and you whine, your hand coming to his hair and pushing him into you as you rut up, making him chuckle darkly.

“Don’t worry baby,” he teases. “I’ll take care of you.” His tongue, strong and flat against you, licks over your panties from your opening to your pubic bone. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this wet before,” he says, high on it. You whimper and rut again.

He sneaks a finger into your underwear where it’s soaked at your entrance. He separates the fabric that clings to your skin with your wetness and caresses up and down your folds, examining your cunt with the utmost scrutiny as he does. You’d think you’d feel shy at this, but the look in his eyes and the feeling in your core set you on fire, and you fucking love it. You open your legs as wide as you can, and with an eyebrow quirked, he looks up at you and smiles. “Good girl,” he tells you for the first time ever, and you mewl loudly and melt into the chair. He’s surprised at the intensity of your reaction and tries it again. “You like being my good girl, Y/N? my best fucking girl?” You nod vehemently and your grip on the armchair threatens to damage it. “Fuck,” he laughs. “Then I’d better make my favourite girl feel good then, huh?”

He pulls your panties to the side and licks up your folds several times, lapping the dripping arousal. He detaches his mouth from your lower lips, and you whine, but he’s only swiftly ripping your knickers off before latching on again, moaning into you. He sticks his tongue in your hole, and you half gasp half scream in response. He continues fucking into you with more and more force, his nose sending godly pleasure through your clit with each thrust and shake of his face.

“Remus, Remus, Remus,” you pray, your thighs shaking. He hums into your hole then starts sucking on your labia till he reaches your clit and sucks there. You cum all over his face. He hums and sucks and vibrates as you scream. When your shakes become shivers, he pulls off, licks your cunt from bottom to top, plants a kiss on your clit, then brings his face back to yours. It’s shining with wetness like never before.

“You’ve never cum like that,” he says amazed. “You’ve never eaten me like that,” you retort. He’s biting his soaked, swollen bottom lip and beaming. He runs his tongue slowly around his lips, lightly humming at the taste of you. You whimper at the sight, and he chuckles. “I like you all whimpery like this,” he teases. You feel your cheeks warm and move your hands to your face, but before they even reach it, Remus grabs your wrists and pins them back down against the arms of the sofa chair. “Uh-uh, lovely. No hiding. You’re too pretty, and I’m too needy. I need to see you.” He stares into your face then looks you up and down, his gaze lingering on your still dripping cunt, your heaving tits, your blissed out face. “Holy fuck, you’re my goddess.”

You smile, equal parts shy and cheeky, and you confess to him, “I want to suck you off now,” with a boldness you hardly ever have in bed.

His eyes roll to the back of his head again, his knees weaken, and he pleads, “Please.”

You push him off of you and maneuver him into the chair. He’s yanking his shirt off while you pull his trousers down. When you’re both fully naked, without ado, you immediately wrap your lips around his rock-hard cock and start bobbing your head up and down. He whimper-yells in a way he never has before, and the sound propels you faster, deeper. Remus grunts rhythmically as you swallow him down, both hands in your hair, holding on for dear life, the occasional rough tug sending pleasure rippling down to your cunt. Your hands grip his thighs, vice-like despite the slipperiness of his now sweaty body. He lets out repeated “baby”s and “fuck”s and “please”s and “yes”s with increasing desperation, punctuating each sharp fast thrust of his hips.

You feel his thighs give a particularly violent shake, and knowing what that means, you pull off of him. The look on his face is of devastation, but his head goes back in excitement when he sees what you have in mind. You’re climbing onto him. He scoots down the armchair to give you some room to straddle him and brings his hands to your hips to help you in place and give some much needed stability.

Gripping the back of the chair, your other hand grabs his throbbing cock and guides it to your entrance. Remus is staring at where you’re about to be connected like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s seen in his whole life. To him, it is. You feel him enter you, and you clench in complete pleasure. He hisses sharply at the sensation of penetration and lets out a continuous “ahh” as you sink further and further down, your grip on his shoulder bruising. When he bottoms out, you clench and give a little bounce, and you smile at his desperate reaction. He’s nodding vigorously, biting his bottom lip, staring at your tits, gripping your hips with the full force of his strong hands. One of them goes up to clench your breast as you start bouncing on him, slow and hard for several thrusts before picking up the pace when you find a stable position. It feels incredible. The control you have over the drag of his cock against your walls drives you crazy both physically and psychologically. You bring your hips up and down repeatedly until you’re a whimpering, shaking mess above him.

Completely out of breath, he asks, “Can I?” You know what he means and nod, holding on tighter as he then starts thrusting feverishly up into you, fucking you in full force from below. It’s knocking you up and down vigorously, so you bend over more to rest your forearms on the back of the armchair. With this change in position, your tits are now smacking against each other with each thrust — right in front of Remus’s face. He goes feral for it, and starts sucking on one of them, his hands not leaving their grip on you but moving down to squeeze your arse as he pushes into you over and over.

From between your tits you hear — and feel — him give a distinctive yelp, and you rub aggressively onto him with every ounce of energy you have left, giving your clit the friction it needs to push you over the edge right along with him.

“Fuck!” he yells as your walls clench impossibly tighter and milk him of the cum that’s rushing out of him. You yelp at the sensation, and the strangled sound continues through the end of both your orgasms.

Your body gives, but Remus hums contentedly at the weight of you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you with a chuckle. You lay like this for several moments, his hand running up and down your back, the slipperiness becoming stickiness as the chilly air licks at your still wet bodies. You shiver at it, but you’re so spent and so happy, you don’t struggle off of him yet. His softening cock still buried inside of you, Remus brings your face to his to give you a gentle kiss and adoring grin.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to relax in this chair again,” you whisper in a giggle. “I’ll get flustered just looking at it.” His laugh is warm and full, and he gives you a squeeze.

You kiss him and linger, and he says, “You know, with all the stress and everything…” a kiss, “I think it’d be good for us to make this our closing time routine.”

The sound of your laughter is muffled by his next kiss.

#remus lupin #remus x reader #remus lupin smut #remus x you #remus smut #remus x y/n #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #marauders #marauder x reader #marauders smut

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fire-lizard-ro · 4 months

Note

Hi Roro, hope you’re doing well! Let me start by saying your Sunday stuff is MAGNIFICENT, oh my gosh this MAN-

I’ve come with a request for you…

Dr. Veritas Ratio x fem or gn reader. Bathtub. Sex. Like most of the time he’s only interested in reading in the tub, rejecting reader’s advances. But one day, idk, he’s in a MOOD but he doesn’t want to admit it, so he lets reader go a little further than normal with her advances, but he’s still being petty about it, kinda denying and still trying to read his book or whatever and it just Escalates eventually…

Aaaa thank you so much if you decide to do my request! Remember to take breaks and stay hydrated!

I'm ILL over this man jfc-

Dr. Ratio here to prescribe you with a dose of vitamin D-//SHOT

Veri, my love, please just one chance I'm begging just a crumb oisego-

But yesssss gimme the bathtube sex I want it- I wanna do all kinds of wild things to or with this man. Crazy.

But hehehe I know what you are. 👁️👁️

A s i m p . 🫵 (Like I'm any better.)

And thank you!!! This took a While, but I did it. I had lots of fun with it so feel free to request again~

CW and writing under the cut:

CW: vagina and cock (gasp), PIV sex, cockwarming, rough sex, hair pulling, choking (+some breath play), cumming inside (wrap it before you tap it folks), spanking, degradation+praise, objectification, kinda sorta human furniture thing???, name calling (ex:slut), use of words like "cunt" (wow that feels weird writing here-), marking, ignoring you during cockwarming, doggy position(?), cum play, holding your hands behind your back, discussion of safe wording (check-ins), kinda cum as lube?, funishment, d/s aspects to the relationship (though you are dating for romantic reasons as well), slight pussy slapping, talking to your pussy (I know this man a freak <333), crying during sex (+dacryphilia), dumbification (ofc this was gonna be here), ruined orgasm, edging, slight cum eating, a liiiiittle bit of gagging (w/ fingers), usage of "pet" exactly once

Reader gender: fem (I talked with anon separately and they decided on this when I asked for preference- I also only have one fem reader ask. If people want, I can write another version tweaked to be gn or AMAB/male reader~)

Disclaimers:

>>>Dr. Ratio will be referred to as Veritas here since reader is dating him.

>>>This was written and almost finished before 1.6 release.

Bathtub sex, surprisingly, probably isn't the norm for you two. After all, Veritas (oml it feels weird calling him that after so long of calling him Ratio-) enjoys his down time in the bath where he can relax with you and read his books. I like to think that it's one of the few times when his ever racing mind is a bit quieter. So when you are finally pent up enough at just the right time to want to pounce on him in the tub, he's a bit surpised at first. But the surprise would soon melt into mild annoyance. "Can't you just stay still? Quit it- I'm trying to read."

Of course he says it in that ever dramatic way of his while not even glancing up from his book. Speaking of said book- "You're going to get my book wet, darling-" (Yes, he's a "darling" kind of guy. It's sophisticated as he is. And you know he'd say it with that drawl of his and drag the word out. Sometimes in those more intimate moments, it sounds almost like a sultry purr with the way he says it, commanding all your attention.) "And if you do that, you know I'm going to have to punish you, hm?" You almost want it if it means he'd touch you where you want him, but you know that his punishments aren't necessarily fun. Yet still you like them all the same.

(They're more of funishments than punishments in this case- Please do know that funishments and punishments aren't the same, my dear little kinksters~ Since the reader actually enjoys these "punishments" a lot and they are done for their and Veritas' mutual gratification, it's a funishment. These are normally for bratting behavior while actual punishments are for serious things and are meant to actually discourage the behavior that earned you the punishment. Hopefully I explanied it well, lololol-)

But of course you continue to try and rouse his interest, touching him here and there. It reaches the point where you manage to wiggle your way between his arms, in front of his book. Not only does this block his view, but you're dripping water all over his book! (It was all of one or two droplets.) If you listened close enough, you'd probably have heard the sound of his reason breaking in that moment. Like you had poked a sleeping bear one too many times. (And some little part of himself that knew it was also partly because he also was getting into a mood was squashed. Of course it was just because you needed to be disciplined.)

"That's it. You want my attention, darling? Well now you have it.” There was something dark in his voice that sent a shiver down your back and made your nethers tingle in anticipation. He snapped the book closed and set it on the table by the bathtub almost gently, a stark contrast between how his voice sounded and how he was looking at you. He'd tilt his head and consider you, seemingly thinking about how best to punish you for your transgressions. "Hands on my shoulders and do not move them. Color?" Veritas was launching right into it, huh? "Green." "Good."

With hands on his strong shoulders, you watched him with eyes darting around his form to try and figure out what he'd do. Your question was answered by a hand gripping your hip and another dragging down between your breasts, then over your belly, then stopping on your mound. He didn't move any lower, fingers thrumming there just above where you wanted him. Teasing. "I can see your cunt drooling from here. Was she just so hungry that you couldn't be good and hold it until we were out of the tub?" Heat bloomed in your cheeks as he spoke. "Should I punish her? Hm?" Veritas gave your wetness a few light slaps, just enough to make you jolt but not enough to do more than just barely sting. "No- It isn't her fault she's so empty and wanting. But it is your fault that you couldn't be obedient and wait. Isn't that right, my cute little slut?" He whispered in your ear, leaned forward to curl possessively over you while his fingers slipped down to trace around your twitching hole as it tried to suck his finger in.

"Mmmmm..." he hummed lowly, the sound vibrating against you where your chests were pressed together. He kissed the spot beneath your ear before his lips marked a path down your neck, sucking and nipping marks into the tender flesh there. Just as he reached the junction between your neck and shoulder, he suddenly sunk his teeth in and thrusted two fingers into you at the same time. Veritas had sneakily wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you still right before so you weren't able to squirm away from his teeth or his fingers that now plunged in and out of you, agonizingly slow after that fast, rough entry.

The man pressed a kiss to your new bitemark before sliding the hand of the arm around your waist up your back to latch onto your nape and hold you still for a kiss. He chuckled into it as you attempted to fight him for dominance, your tongues clashing. Ultimately, he won and was now devouring your mouth, licking into it with fervor.

At some point, his fingers began to speed up. Veritas was fingerfucking you with his palm slapping against your throbbing clit. And right as you felt yourself begin that climb- He slowed down, his thrusts going back to a leisurely rhythm. He swallowed the whine that left your throat, smirking into the kiss you were still locked in. As he pulled away, he looked incredibly smug. "Thought it would be that easy? Of course not. This is a punishment.”

He did this another time, bringing you close to the rise of pleasure (not at all that close to your peak, though) before going frustratingly slowing. The third time, however... It didn't seem that he was going to stop, and you felt it build and build inside you like a white hot flame. And right as you were reaching the end... He spanked you and ripped his fingers out, sending you over the edge but ruining your orgasm. It had tears beading in your eyes. Fuck did that make him want to fuck you absolutely stupid, but he had more control than that. Your punishment was far from over.

He soothingly ran his hand over your back as you leaned into him, body shivering. "Color?" Through your panting breaths, you managed a weak, "Green." "Good girl." He didn't let you rest any longer, manhandling you into a new position. Now you were leaned over the edge of the tub with your hands keeping you from falling out, Veritas behind you. "I'm going to fuck you now, and you're going to take it all like a good girl, right?" At first you thought he was talking to you, but then he caressed your slit and cooed at it. That mixed sense of shame and arousal shot through you and had you clenching around nothing, making Veritas laugh condescendingly. "So honest..."

Again he started out slow, the sensual slide of his cock inside of your pussy making you close your eyes to focus on the pleasure he was giving you. But he was faster to ramp things up now that he'd already edged you and ruined one of your orgasms. It may or may not have also been because he was quite ready to slake his own lust with your body.

The only reason you didn't slam your face into the tub's edge or fall out was Veritas' grip on you when he grabbed both of your wrists and pulled your arms behind your back. You felt a hand slide into your hair and then he was thrusting into you hard, the slap of his hips slamming into your ass loud in the confined space of the bathroom. It was obscene the way you could even hear the wet sound of his cock going in and out of you amplified by the natural acoustics of said bathroom. "You like hearing how well you take me, slut? I certainly do. It's filthy. Fitting-"

Your hips are bruising from them being pressed onto the edge of the tub, bumping into it with almost every thrust. It hurt but fuck did it all feel so good because he was pressing against your sweet spot every time he fucked into your wet hole.

The hand pulling your head back by your hair let go only to wrap around your throat and pull you up so your back pressed against his chest. "Fuck you sound like such a whore right now. Are you my good little whore? Just for me?" Of course you couldn't answer because your mind was blank from his hand pressing just right to cut off some of that blood flow. Oh and because he had also just tilted his hand to cut off your air. He held for a bit, waiting until your vision was a bit fuzzy at the edges before letting you breathe, the feeling of the air rushing back into your lungs making you dizzy. You felt so close you could scream- And then you nearly did when he pulled out and stopped your orgasm.

His hands let go of you and you nearly keeled over, but he caught you. With an arm around your waist, you couldn't tell what he was doing behind you until you heard the slick sound of him fisting his cock. Right as he began cumming, he slammed back into you to fill you with it while biting down hard on the back of your neck. Another bite to mark you as his.

Veritas then pulled out so the last few spurts of cum would paint your labia in white, marking you inside and out with his spend.

You could feel the frustrated tears pouring down your face as you felt your burning arousal festering in your belly and the mix of embarrassment and thrill at his actions. Fuck this man would be the end of you. He unlatched from your neck to lean forward and lick the tears off your face with a hum. "You look so pretty like this..." He patted your ass before that same hand was sliding down to open you up using your pussy lips as he leaned back to watch as the cum he poured into you began to slip out.

Scooping up the cum that had dribbled out, he fingered it back in, purposefully tapping at your gspot a few times. He then pulled the white covered fingers out and petted your clit, playing with it a little before bringing it to your face. "Clean them off." Your tongue kitten licked some of it off before he was shoving them in your mouth. You gagged a little, drooling over his fingers while weakly sliding your tongue over them to clean them of the cum clinging to them.

"Good girl," he praised with a kiss to your jaw before he let out a sigh. "I'm going to sit you on my cock and finish my reading. Color?" "Green, fuck-" "That's a good pet."

Warming his cock while leaned forward to rest your arms on the lip of the tub while your head rested on those was hard. You desperately wanted to cum, but you now were willing to be obedient to get what you wanted. You weren't sure how much more punishment you could take. It didn't help that he had an arm resting on the back of your hips, slung over them as he leaned on you a bit while his other arm rested atop the other one. That hand was holding up his book. He wasn't touching you besides that and your ass resting in the cradle of his hips, cock deep inside your pussy which still fluttered around his thickness occasionally. Every time you squirmed he would spank you with a pointed look before going back to his book, ignoring you entirely. Any whining or talking would be met with the same treatment.

He checked in on you after a bit. "Color?" "...yellow." His demeanor changed immedately. Petting your side, he eased you back to lean against him once more. "What's wrong, baby?" He typically saved that endearment for intimate moments alone together and times like this where you might need reassurance. "I wanna see your face... wanna hold you." It seemed you might be a bit sensitive, now, after being punished for a while and needed that from him. "Of course, baby. Your punishment is almost over. I'll let you come soon and we can continue in the bedroom, hm?" You loved this man. "Okay." He kissed your forehead. "Good girl."

He slipped out, making you whine. It was met with a chuckle and he helped you turn around to slide into his lap again, this time facing him.

Veritas pulled you to rest against him, tucking you into his neck as he wrapped an arm around your waist. Once you both were settled in, he went back to reading. He still ignored you, but it wasn't so bad this time.

You knew he was done when he set his book on the table again.

He settled his grip on your hips before going straight into fucking up into you hard and fast, what cum was still left in you from his cock plugging it in you aiding the slide of dick in and out of you. He fucked you and played with you until you felt like you couldn't think straight. Even when he asked you questions, knowing you couldn't answer, you weren't quite sure what you said. Whether it was even coherent or not.

"Such a cute, dumb girl for me."

As you came around his cock again, you moaned as you felt the warmth of his cum in you. "Did so, so good for me. Such a good girl." Veritas gave you some time to come down from your high before asking. "You wanna continue in the bedroom or are you finished for the night?" "...m' done." "Alright, baby." He gave you some more time before cleaning you up and draining the tub. Another kiss was pressed to your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips. "Let's go to bed, darling. I'll take care of you."

Lololol hopefully you like it. 🙏

If there’s any typos or if it doesn’t make sense somewhere… Your honor my client claims “oopsie daisy”. It’s me. The client is me, your honor-

#Roro writes #asks answered #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio smut #fem reader #hsr x female reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr dr ratio #honkai star rail dr. ratio x reader #hsr Dr. Ratio x reader #Dr. Ratio x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #smut

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d10nyx · 5 months

Text

are you lonely?

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, incest, dad leon, 18+ reader(obviously), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, dubcon??(just to be safe), a lot of self-loathing and guilt on leon's part

a/n: i apologise wholeheartedly if i tagged anything incorrectly, this is my first time ever posting something i've written(and one of my first times finishing an idea), but i will try my hardest. THIS IS DARK CONTENT, so please be careful reading and scroll if you don't like it!! also genuinely please tell me if i missed any tags! hope you like it :)

word count: 2.4k words

It never gets easier. Every single mission manages to drain Leon more than the last. He almost just gave up on it all a long time ago - he would have if it wasn't for one thing.

You.

As he opens the door from another exhausting mission, he's hit with the smell of home cooked food that has his mouth watering. The house is spotless, as always. Floors completely polished, the sound of music coming from the kitchen has him dragging his feet there on autopilot, eyes settling on you.

His sweet daughter is at the stove, stirring something in a pot. You haven't even noticed he's home yet, humming along to the music coming from your phone softly as you cook. He leans against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest, just gazing at you for a few moments.

God, he missed you.

“Hey, honey.” He hums, the corner of his mouth twitching in a close approximation of a smile, about all he can manage after the shit he's seen this past week. Your movements pause, and then you're tilting your head over your shoulder to look at him.

“Dad! You're home!” You exclaim, shooting him a smile that lights up your whole face. He barely has time to react before your arms are wrapped around his torso, giving him a tight hug. He never feels like he deserves your affection. He's barely even around, but you're always clinging to him like a needy puppy when he is.

“Mhm. Managed to finish up a little early.” He mumbles, a hand coming to your head to press it against his chest, giving your waist a little squeeze with his other one. Doesn't bother telling you about what he was doing. Doesn't want you worrying. “You miss me?”

“Course I did.” You reply without hesitation, giving him a squeeze in return before pulling away from him. “Gotta keep cooking before it burns, though. You hungry?” You ask softly, returning to the stove.

He hums softly, eyes lingering on you as he walks away. He finds himself looking at you for a little too long, blinking his eyes to snap himself out of it. “Yeah, I could eat.”

His gaze finds you again before long. His eyes flick over your form, hovering on your curves for a moment before he frowns. Jesus. Since when did he look at his daughter like that? Since when did his daughter look like that? Must of been a while, but he's only really noticing it now

He's only been gone for a week, but it feels like a lifetime. You're always so happy to see him, always acting so domestic. You cook for him, clean for him and cuddle up to him after he's had a particularly tough day.

You'd make a good wife for someone one day.

His frown deepens as his brain supplies that thought to him. Is this what's happening to him now? He's so sick that he's attracted to his own damn daughter? Is that really how fucked up his life has got?

He gets a little weird after that, eating dinner with you in silence when it's done before rushing off to the bedroom. You ask him about 100 times what's wrong, but he always gives you the same ‘it's nothing, honey, just tired.’ You don't believe a word of it, naturally. You know your dad better than that, know when something’s bothering him

And you're a sweet girl. Too sweet for him, if he's being honest. So he shouldn't be surprised when you go to check on him after you clean up the dishes before you go to bed. But he wasn't thinking right, and you walk in on him right as he's pumping his dick to the thought of you.

“Shit…” He breathes out as he sees you in the doorway. He thinks he's going to be sick when the sight of your surprised face is what tips him over the edge, your pretty lips parted in shock as he cums harder than he has in years.

Post-nut clarity hits him like a train, guilt clawing its way up his chest, nausea setting in. “Fuck, baby. I'm so sorry.” He says quickly, too stunned to move. His hand is still gripping his cock, still hard and leaking, his hand coated in his release.

And you're just staring, unable to take your eyes away. Makes your stomach flip and your heart beat faster. You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He quickly seems to snap out of his daze and yanks the cover over himself, his jaw tightening as he refuses to meet your eyes.

You find yourself disappointed that you can't see him like that anymore, a frown tugging at your face. “It's okay, dad.” You manage to say, voice a little strained. Heat pools in your stomach, and you fidget a little as you stand in the doorway, your common sense warring with what you wanted.

“I just wanted to check on you.” You say after a moment of silence, Leon still not looking at you. “You seemed… weird at dinner. Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You continue to stand awkwardly in the doorway before you shift further into the room. Against your better judgement, you sit on the edge of his bed, trying to catch his eye.

“It's okay, dad. Really.” You tell him, reaching a hand out to touch his cheek. He lets out a stifled groan, his eyes squeezing shut. You're too good for him. “My fault for not knocking.”

His eyes crack open to meet yours, and he slowly realises he's found you beautiful for a long time - more than what's considered acceptable as a father. Ever since you came back from college during one of your breaks, filling out your clothes in a way you never had before, looking up at him with those pretty eyes…

Fuck. He's sick. He deserves to rot in hell. He'd noticed long ago, pushed the thoughts away so he could be the father you deserved. And you're perfect. So goddamn beautiful, like you were made for him. Your hand is so warm and soft where it cups his cheek, your touch so gentle.

He's been so, so lonely. And you're the prettiest thing he's ever seen, brows furrowed in concern as he refuses to answer you. Knows if he opens his mouth, he's gonna say some shit he regrets.

He ends up doing something he's gonna regret, anyway. Can't help himself when you're giving him those eyes. He's grabbing you by the cheeks, pulling you into a kiss without even thinking about it.

You pull away, and he whimpers. He tugs you back in again, kissing you with more fervour this time. Your body freezes up, then you find yourself kissing back, and he's not sure if that's worse or not. Guilt is eating him alive, but he can't help himself.

“I'm so sorry, baby.” He murmurs between kisses, desperately tugging you closer to him. His tongue slips into your mouth, and he moans softly as your own prods against his. “Can't help it. You're so pretty.”

This time, you're the one deepening the kiss. His hands find your waist, his grip tightening. He didn't realise how badly he needed this. Needed you. He can feel how badly you want him, the way you're pressing up against him as he kisses you.

It's so wrong. He wants to do so many things to you. You want him in a way no one has ever wanted him before, even more than your mom ever did. It's intoxicating, makes him dizzy. He feels so pathetic. What kind of sicko wants to fuck his own daughter? He's your dad. He should be protecting you from creeps like this, not making a move on you.

“Baby…” He breathes out, pulling away from your mouth, his heart hammering in his chest at the disappointed look that spreads across your face. “We can't do this. Y'know that, yeah?”

But his hands move to settle on your hips, tugging you into his lap, the duvet the only thing separating you from sitting on his bare cock that he never had a chance to shiver back into his pants after you caught him. He's not strong enough, needs you to be the one to bring him to his senses. You just needed to say no, and he'd be able to stop. But you don't, and he's too weak to do it himself. Far too weak.

“Daddy…” You breathe out, frown tugging at your lips. “Please? Just this once?”

How is he meant to say no to that? He buries the guilt, buries the self-loathing. He's good at that - pushing away his feelings and pretending that everything's okay. He can't deny his pretty girl of anything, especially not when she asks so sweetly.

So he kisses you again. It's a messy, sloppy kiss, one that has him groaning and rocking his hips up to get some kind of friction on his aching cock. It twitches, already leaking pre-cum. He can't even remember the last time he fucked someone. Can't believe he's about to fuck you. He's tempted to cut his dick off after this. Doesn't deserve it.

It's not long before his hands are pawing desperately at your pants, tugging them off along with your panties. He keeps your shirt on, pretends that makes him better, even if he wants to see how your tits bounce. Hey, he thinks, at least I had some self-control.

You moan so prettily when his thumb brushes your clit, rubbing slow circles into it. You're already so wet, his cock jumping with interest. Even Hell is too good for him.

Your hands slip down to tug at the fabric separating the two of you, your hips only hovering long enough to pull the duvet down and expose him, a low whine spilling from your lips.

“Want it, daddy. Please?” You murmur, dipping your head down to kiss his neck, making him suppress a groan.

“Yeah, baby. Anything you want.” He breathes out, his free hand reaching for the base to make his cock stand tall, offering it up like some kind of treat while his other hand still rubs lazy circles onto your clit.

You both moan in sync as you lower yourself onto his length. His hand slips to your hip, gripping it to guide your movements. His hips buck up into you, his tip brushing your cervix whenever you sink down fully onto him.

You're so wet, and you squeeze him just right. He's going to go insane. There's no way he can help himself now. He's never gonna stop thinking about how good you feel wrapped around him.

“Fuck, honey. Pussy's made just for me,” he groans, cringing as he says the words. He's never been a fan of dirty talk, feels awkward. Worse when he thinks about who he's fucking. But you feel so good, he really can't stop himself. His brain isn't working anymore.

“You're so big.” You whine, grinding your hips down against him more than actually riding him, like you don't want his dick to leave you for even a moment. Cute. He almost cums just at the way your face twists as he fucks up into you.

“S’all yours, baby. C'mon,” he coos, thumb slipping away from your clit and making you whimper, just so he can grab your waist with both hands. “Ride daddy.”

He lifts you up and down, helping you ride him. You rock your hips desperately, moaning as he presses up against your sweet spot with every thrust, picking up the pace as he fucks into you. He's able to manhandle you so easily, which only has you moaning louder, your eyes fluttering shut.

With his hands occupied with gripping your waist as he helps you fuck yourself on his dick, you bring your own hand down to rub at your clit, making the heat in your stomach build rapidly.

The bed creaks as he picks up the pace again, rutting deeper into you than before, your pussy making the most obscene squelching noises. It's downright sinful, Leon has to use all of his focus to stop himself from cumming right then and there. Fuck, if it wasn't for him jerking off right before you came in, he'd have cum as soon as he saw your pretty pussy.

You're close, biting your lip to sniffle your moans as they grow louder, fingers moving faster against your clit. Your dad notices, shifting his hips until he's pounding relentlessly into your sweet spot, making you see stars.

He feels his chest swell with pride when he feels you tense up, pussy clenching around his cock deliciously as your orgasm hits, juices gushing past his cock and coating his balls. He didn't even know he still had it in him, thought his dick game died in his 20s. This was a pleasant surprise.

His balls tighten, and he knows he's about to cum. He grunts and goes to pull you off of him, but you whine and shake your head, pushing yourself down. “S'okay, daddy. I'm on birth control. Wanna feel it, please.”

He frowns a little at that. He doesn't like thinking about other guys fucking you. You're his princess, a sweet girl. Your daddy will take care of you, not these other losers. God, he's fucked up.

“Yeah, baby? Want daddy to fill you up?” He grunts, flipping you over with ease so your back's pressed to the bed, him hovering over you. He pounds into you with renewed vigor, head hanging and bangs covering his eyes.

“Fuck.” He hisses as he buries himself balls deep in you, cock kicking inside your pussy as he cums. He pants a little as he fills you, he's not quite as young as he used to be. Takes it out of him sometimes.

He pulls out and slumps next to you. You cuddle up to him instantly, and that guilt and shame comes to the surface again. He pulls you close to him, pets your hair and kisses your forehead like he always does.

“Love you, baby girl.” He murmurs, his free hand pulling the covers up and over your body, his fingertips scratching your scalp lightly.

“I love you more, dad.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #dark content

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mochimooon · 6 months

Text

DTF Only (Happy Hour) - porco galliard x reader 18+

pairing: Porco Galliard x afab! Reader summary: Your first match sent you a message and Porco wants to spend Happy Hour with you. word count: 3500+ notes: Part 2 (although can be seen as Part 1) of DTF Only. Been a minute since I've written for this guy, and congrats! He's your first match! :) warnings: smut, explicit content, explicit language, alcohol consumption, semi-public sex, sex in a restroom, vaginal sex, mirror sex, motor boating ☻ masterpost☻

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ !!

The initial thrill of swiping left and right wore off by the time you went to bed, and if not for the notifications, you would have forgotten all about Tinder.

Opening up the app, you’re surprised to see you’ve matched with several guys. But around last night’s margaritas, you don’t remember any of them.

Regardless, you’re hit with another wave of serotonin, reading the first message you received earlier this morning.

Hey You’re cute. You like football?

Before replying, you tap on the guy—Porco’s—profile.

You blink. He’s blond, like Colt.

It’s not something that’ll deter you, only something that you couldn’t help noticing and as you peruse his profile the similarities end there.

He’s a different shade of blond and wears his hair in a different style too, polished, slick back over an undercut. He’s built like he spends more time at the gym than anywhere else.

His bio is brief, not much to the imagination.

Gym, sports, beer. Happy Hour is my fav time of the day 🏈😎

Scrolling through his pictures, you’re not surprised. Most of them are gym selfies, all of which you approve of, with the last photo of him sporting a jersey at a football game.

He’s not a bad-looking guy at all, and it’s too soon to judge him based on his profile. With nothing to lose you tap out a reply.

Hey Porco! I’m no expert on football, but I like happy hour !

You’re not sure what to expect. It’s weird messaging someone you’ve never met. How do you even know he’s real? Online dating is so foreign and bizarre, you’re not sure you’ll get used to it.

The response arrives a few minutes later.

lol! I don’t judge 😉 My team’s playing today. At the bar right now to watch them win!! Drop by have some beer with me?

That was quick, but you suppose you shouldn’t be surprised. The app is meant to get people to meet. It’s just weird…you can’t get over the concept.

You consider the invite. It’s so sudden. But you had no other reason stopping you from meeting up with him.

Without any plans for your Sunday, you agree. Guess this is it. Your first match and you’re already going to meet in person.

You had heard stories of ghosting, slow fades, catfishing, etc. The most common trend Ymir and Pieck had mentioned was becoming a pen pal, keeping communication on the app only and never actually meeting. Porco’s already proven to be an outlier.

“He looks pissed off in every picture,” Ymir says over the phone as you get ready to meet Porco. “Even the ones where he’s smiling…”

“That could just be his face,” Pieck says in answer, though she sounds dubious.

Because it’s your first time meeting a stranger online, you let your friends know where you’ll be, much to their excitement that you’ve taken to Tinder at ease.

“I think he’s cute.” You grab your keys. “He seems like a sports junkie, not sure what else we can talk about. I know nothing about sports.”

“You’re not there for the game,” Pieck supplies.

Nerves tickle at the idea of hooking up so soon with a stranger. Is that really what people do on Tinder? Years in a committed relationship, online dating stories never felt real, but now that you’re single, it’s time to find out.

“I mean it’s the middle of the day,” you trail off, indifferent. “Do you really think he’s going to want to hook-up? He might be more interested in the game.”

“Pfft. What?” Ymir laughs. “Men always make time for their dicks. It wouldn’t matter if you were meeting at a funeral. Trust, he’d find a way to get his kicks in.”

You hear Pieck laugh, and the tension defuses a little.

“That’s a stretch, Ymir,” you chuckle.

“But she’s right!” Pieck says. “Guys on Tinder have no shame. It’s why they’re on it.”

“Don’t overthink anything,” Ymir adds. “To have fun, you’re going to have to have the same clownish confidence.”

“Alright, well I need to get going.”

“Remember the code word if you want us to bail you out!” Pieck hurries to say.

Heading down the hall, you sigh. “Right. Cholula. Got to go.”

Before you end the call, you catch Ymir’s send off. “Good luck, champ!”

…

Football, sports, the like, none are your area of expertise. You could count on one finger the number of football games you’ve gone to—zero.

But happy hour makes you a good sport, and it also lures in the entire neighborhood.

The bar is packed, almost bordering a fire hazard. It’s impossible to see much other than droves of people, and it’s even harder to hear over the jeering over the game.

You squeeze by, craning your head, rising on your tiptoes for a sight of Porco. He had said he was at the bar, so you shove your way through, ignoring the disgruntled looks that are sent your way.

Sidling away from a few football fans, you think you see him or at least the back of his head. A burst of nerves flutter in your stomach. This might be him.

A man with a blond undercut with a gaze transfixed to the TV screen. It’s only when you approach closer to where the empty bar stool is that you recognize the scowl from the pictures.

“Porco?”

He turns, the scowl deepening for a moment in confusion. But it’s replaced with a faint smile as the man himself says your name.

“You made it.” He pulls you into a one-armed hug that would feel like nothing to someone else, but to you it’s tight against muscle, hidden away in his bomber jacket. “Saved you this seat.”

You take the lone barstool at his side, impressed that he managed to keep it vacant from the patrons desperately looking for a spot to watch the game. But as a stranger bumps into Porco’s elbow by accident, the man’s scowl drills into them, and they skitter off.

“Also, got you an IPA, and I placed an order for some nosh. Hope you like nachos,” Porco briefs you.

Reeling back from meeting your first ever Tinder match in person, you’re a little flustered as you take a seat. “Oh, um, thanks. Nachos are fine as long as they’re not spicy.”

He cuts you a humored look. “Tough shit, I love spice. I asked for extra jalapenos.”

The response is so blunt, you don’t even feel affronted, only mildly pricked.

“Okay…” Your eyes drift towards the TV screen. “So, who’s your team?”

It becomes a twenty-minute run down, from Porco’s favorite team and why; who they’re up against, and why they’re going to lose (his exact words). During that time, the nachos arrive, piled with cheese and an absurd amount of jalapenos you try to avoid. It’s no use. The spice has you reaching for your IPA, signaling for Porco to order you both another round.

It’s not all about him, though. You tell him a bit about yourself, and he takes enough interest that you’re endeared by him, despite his blunt and somewhat bossy persona.

And when the game is in full swing, the tension in the bar simmers hot. As does your gaze watching Porco.

Hazel eyes are fixed on the screen right now, his team close to scoring a touchdown, nothing else matters in that moment. While his focus is elsewhere, you can’t tears yours away from him.

The scowl in his brows knit tighter together as he grits his teeth, the tension running down his jaw and strong neck. Porco doesn’t have to try at all to look this good, and your mind wanders, envisioning his face with a flush and hair messed up.

You don’t catch what happens next but become aware of Porco’s hiss of irritation before he turns to you, blinking.

It’s not your intent to be shameless. You want to blame it on the IPA, however you know that’s not true. Something about the air becomes stagnant with heat. The rolling frustration throughout the bar, from supporters of either team fill the space like a thick cloud, dialing up every nerve in your body.

Meanwhile, Porco’s full attention is on you this time. You can feel the drag of his eyes on your bare legs, sweeping slowly upwards until they settle on your chest much longer than any other part of your body.

Something palpable lingers like smoke. Porco’s lip curls, trading your smirk for his as he gulps the last of his IPA, snatches up your hand and in a flash, he’s thrusting past the crowd like he’s on the football field.

Porco brings you both to the back of the bar, just outside of the restrooms. He turns the handle of the male restroom door, clicking his tongue to find it locked.

Porco bangs on the door, scowl deepening. “Hurry it up!”

Not a minute later, the door opens, and a perplexed man averts Porco’s eyes. You don’t notice him shuffling away, staggering on your feet as you’re dragged inside.

Porco’s quick to lock the door, not even looking at the knob, too focused on you. The hastiness, the dark lust burning through hazel in his eyes, your heart races, unable to wait any longer.

Reading your mind, Porco’s the first to erase the small gap, capturing your mouth, and lifting you by the thighs with authority.

For leverage, you clamp your legs around him, allowing him to deepen the kiss with his hand on the back of your neck.

You’re set down on the counter by the sink. You don’t pull away, despite the need for air. Instead, you scrape your nails through Porco’s hair.

He snarls like an animal, biting your lower lip and tugging it. “Keep doing that, I want to feel your nails there.” It comes out firm yet eager, his mouth ruthless against yours.

You do as he says, driving your nails inwards, scratching along his scalp, messing up the polished look.

There’s a whip of fabric, Porco’s jacket is tossed somewhere in the restroom. You don’t spare it any thought, letting your hands fall away from his hair to grasp onto his strong shoulders, clawing at his back to drag him closer.

Porco chases after your touch, like neither of you can have enough of the other. His weight presses into you, urging you backwards. Your back hits the mirror.

His lips pull away, tossing hungry kisses along your neck. He laps at your pulse, tongue dragging up to lick behind the shell of your ear.

You shiver a little baffled but scratch at his shoulders in appreciation.

He does it again, breath hot against your already feverish skin. “That the sweet spot?” Another long, sloppier lap at your skin. “You’re nasty,” he chuckles. “I can be nastier.”

True to his word, Porco’s tongue laps at your neck, a long, wet stripe coating beneath your jaw to your throat. You submit to the sensation, wrapping a hand around his nape to keep him close, a stuttered breath fanning his ear.

Porco releases your neck suddenly.

Your shirt’s tugged off, and before you can enfold your arms around Porco’s neck again, he swipes up your wrists, holding them out.

You blink, confused. Chest heaving in a way that your breasts pump outwards, goosebumps prickling the flesh, and Porco’s eyes soaking you in. Although you’re wearing a simple t-shirt bra, a shadow of lust hangs over Porco’s gaze.

“Oh my God…” pours out of Porco’s mouth before he licks his lips.

Your hands drop the same time as Porco’s face, crouching low enough to pull you in. His warm mouth finds your breast, pressing a soft kiss there.

He looks up, the tip of tongue slipping out to grace the flesh of your breast. “You’ve got pretty titties.”

He swallows, tugging your bra down to expose both breasts. His eyes shift between the two, grasping both in his hands and clenching them together. Moans muffle as he plants open-mouthed kisses between the two.

“So—fucking—pretty—” The words scatter between kisses in a rush, unable to stray too long from your chest. “I just want…”

He takes your nipple in his mouth, robbing him from the rest of that statement, sucking hard to verbalize the rest.

Not to leave the other breast neglected, Porco squeezes the flesh, twisting the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

A hiss slips between your clenched teeth, and you flinch forward from the sudden burst of pleasure.

He’s more than content to be this close, burying his face deeper, sucking, biting, squeezing, leaving beautiful marks, with a hooded gaze locked skywards.

The adrenaline flows through your blood, flaring your pulse at the sudden rattling of the door handle.

Porco pays it no mind, if anything he’s deaf to it, moans vibrating against your chest. He takes your nipple between his teeth and tugs at it.

The sting blooms beneath a tender bruise forming, sparking ever nerve in your body, reaching your center. On instinct, your legs yank him in, and he laughs, flicking your nipple with the tip of his tongue.

“Fuck—you’re something else.” He comes up for air, divining his tongue into your mouth. Fingers crawl up your thighs, digging past the hem of your denim shorts, so close to brushing against your core. “These are cute…”

A sigh of bliss spills out of you.

“You like this, don’t you? That’s why you wore these shorts.” Porco teases—lips on your neck, fingers on your apex. “Somebody’s excited…”

This time a gasp springs forth, a shudder crawling down your spine. You scoot forward on the counter and Porco presses his finger against the damp spot of your panties.

Your hand trails down to Porco’s wrist, guiding him to keep going. His finger hooks into the gusset of your panties.

The rattling resurfaces, louder this time, along with a pounding against the door.

“Hello? Is someone in there?” A man calls out.

This time you’re sure Porco hears it. Despite keeping his attention on you, his brow twitches, the scowl he’s worn all day deepens the more the door rattles.

You do your best to retain his attention, not just for your sake but for Porco’s too.

However, the clench in his jaw and the tension running tight in his throat, both from the mounting irritation and sexual frustration, your body flushes with a new wave of heat, dripping onto Porco’s hand.

Rough fingers unbutton your shorts, and the sharp zip of your fly is drowned out by another round of heavy knocking.

“Open up!”

Porco growls, whipping around. “It’s fucking occupied!” His voice echoes in the restroom, loud enough to send the man outside the message.

The last you hear is an annoyed groan (“Get a fucking hotel”).

“Fucking loser,” Porco says, words strained in his throat.

You can’t help but watch him, mouth agape, stunned to be turned on by his short fuse. Maybe it’s the IPA tickling your nerves, or maybe it’s the heat of the moment, but you’re already so wet, you can’t take waiting anymore.

“Porco, please.”

It’s enough to restore Porco’s attention. He smirks, hoisting you by the hips to bring you back on your feet.

He slots his mouth over yours in a greedy kiss. You take the chance to undo his belt.

Porco does the same, sliding your shorts down to your thighs. Just as you’re about to slide his pants down, Porco grabs hold of your arms and spins you around.

“Face the mirror,” he says, punctuated with a sharp slap to your ass.

You yelp, watching him fish out a condom from his pocket. Shoving his pants down to his ankles, you eye his reflection, admiring the strong arms first, only for your attention to drift to his thick cock that springs free.

There’s a flicker of realization that moves through you. This is the first man you’re going to have sex with since your break-up. No one else has touched you in the three years you’ve been with Colt. You had expected it to feel wrong to be in this position. But you’ve never been more sure of anything else.

You bristle, nerves aflame with anticipation.

If there’s anything you’ve learned from Porco in the few hours that you’ve known him, is that he’s hasty, a facet you welcome eagerly.

The tip of his dick kisses your folds, sliding up and down, you breathe out, fogging up the mirror. You catch the smirk in Porco’s reflection despite that.

Strong hands take your hips with ironclad pressure, and he pushes into you.

Your mouth falls open, blowing out a sigh. You feel the tight strain, getting accustomed to his size. Everything about him is different, new. Nothing about him feels like Colt. Not the fullness of his cock, and definitely not the pace, because the second Porco reaches the end of you, he pulls back and slams forward.

Your hips bump into the edge of the counter, again and again, a wonderful kind of pain. Porco’s hands come around, groping your tits tightly as he leans forward to bite onto your shoulder.

It’s more than the roughness that you bask in, more than a man as attractive as Porco plowing into you. It’s the thrill of being spontaneous, the excitement of trying something new, to be daring, getting fucked in a public space with other strangers on the other side of the door.

You moan out, anchoring your hands on the counter and the mirror, fixated on the pair of eyes glued to your reflection.

“Porco—yes—just like that—”

“I got you, beautiful,” he pants into the crook of your neck, sinking his teeth there too. “Fuck—you feel too good—and these fucking tits.” He squeezes your breast, while his other trails downwards.

A sharp gasp floats in the air. Porco rubs your clit to match the same pace as his thrusts, continue to spoil your neck with attention.

“C’mon doll,” he breathes. “I want you to cum for me. Keep those pretty eyes on the mirror.” He snaps his hips, thrusting deeper into you.

Your lower back starts to ache as the throbbing in your pussy intensifies. “Shit. Porco don’t stop.”

He kisses your shoulder, hot breath burning into your skin. “Cum for me.”

You twitch from the sting of teeth on your shoulder and the swiping of his fingers grant you your release.

You shudder, arms trembling to keep you up as Porco plows into you.

He groans, bringing his hand up to your mouth, having you taste yourself. Sucking his fingers clean, Porco’s unable to hold off any longer, his pace is more hurried and sharper.

“I’m going to cum—” He groans again, head thrown back, exposing the column of his neck in the mirror.

You wince at the tight squeeze around your breast, but you’re too spent to shake him off.

A moment passes and Porco’s head falls into your shoulder, blond strands cling to his sweaty forehead.

You wiggle your ass, and he pulls out, catching his breath and peppering kisses on your shoulder and nape.

“Shit,” he says at last. “Oh my God…” He swallows. “You’re fucking awesome.”

Cutting a glance away from his reflection, you take stock in your appearance. Your hairline shines with a layer of sweat, hair at a disarray though not as bad as Porco’s. Puffy lips and teeth marks all over your breasts. He devoured you, ravished you in a way that you haven’t been in a long time.

Like a firefly brought to life from the touch, something new yet familiar has reawakened inside of you, and you smile at this newfound, but restored version of yourself. The version that craves to explore, experience, and experiment.

Colt flits across your mind, but you know it’s normal. He’ll be there for a while as you continue to sort through this new beginning.

You turn around, smile widening at Porco’s smug expression. The moment untouchable, not even the renewed pounding of the door can ruin it.

After getting redressed, Porco’s glare shoos off the men waiting for the restroom as you both step out.

Though the game ended a while ago, the bar is still stuffed with throngs of people; some wanting to celebrate their team’s victory and the others to wallow in their loss.

You’re not put out when Porco decides to stay. You both got what you wanted after all, and you give him a hug before taking off.

Maybe you’ll see each other again, maybe you won’t.

Either way, you’ve given Porco a parting gift to hold onto. As you slip out of the bar, you cross your arms to shield the hardened nipples poking through your shirt.

That bra wasn’t special, you have others at home.

☻ masterpost☻ taglist: @moonmalice

#porco galliard #porco galliard x reader #porco galliard x you #porco x you #porco x reader #aot #aot smut #porco smut #attack on titan fanfiction #snk #snk smut #attack on titan #dtf only series #mochi-writings #mochimooon

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breathlesswinds · 28 days

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(Devlog) What We Learned Making A Trans Dating Game

Hello, Amelia here, the writer for Breathless Winds. It's been 250,000+ words, countless revisions, and three years since this game entered development, and I wanted to talk about what I've learned leading up to release.

The concept for Breathless Winds was actually sort of a joke between friends. I was talking with Doris about how there should be a dating game where you play as a trans woman and your dating options revolve around certain ‘tropes’ we’d both seen in trans fiction-- the totally accepting cishet guy who falls in love with the trans heroine before she even knows she’s a woman, the cool trans woman who the heroine doesn’t know if she wants to date or wants to be, and so on.

Doris wound up suggesting we make this game ourselves. We both like visual novels and want to tell LGBT stories. Still half-jokingly and half-seriously, we started fleshing out what the romance options would be and coming up with a setting-- and soon, we were fully committed to making this game real.

I was a fan of visual novels but had only ever written prose. I knew which visual novels I liked and which scenes stood out, but I didn’t know why they did or how to make my own.

I read some great advice from visual novel developers, but a good amount of my knowledge came from just working on Breathless Winds. As our first project, this game has grown a lot with us and we’ve learned a lot while making it.

Learning How to Write Visual Novels

A bad habit I had to break out of was only using the ‘novel’ part of the game and not the ‘visual’ part. I would sometimes write “He smiled” or lines like that, and Doris informed me that we can convey this much more simply with a sprite change.

It sounds obvious in retrospect, but lines like that are often pretty invisible when you’re reading a non-visual novel. These lines change the sprite of the character inside your head (if that makes sense, haha). I realized that I’m so used to them being ‘invisible’ that I didn’t notice their absence in visual novels I liked, so I would accidentally include them while writing.

I was also writing these routes in a word processor, so I didn’t have the visual portion to reference, myself. I wound up making a lot of ‘tone’ notes like, “Lantana should be smug here” so that the meaning would carry when revising and implementing these into Ren’py.

So, while visual novels share a lot with prose, they’re an entirely different medium. On the subject of representing things visually, I’ve struggled trying to figure out how much can be visually represented and how much should be written.

Every asset in the game has to be drawn by Doris, so if I want the characters to go to a new location for a scene, I have to keep in mind that’s another background that Doris has to draw. If I want a new character to show up, that’s another sprite she has to draw. I don’t want to overload her, but if I’m trying to avoid this entirely, characters sometimes wind up standing in one room talking for ages without anything significant changing on-screen.

I’ve learned that it’s recommended for something to almost always be changing on-screen, though, so sometimes I just have to ask Doris to make a new asset for a certain scene. I still try to stick to locations/characters that already exist more often than not.

Every single thing in a visual novel is deliberate. Another thing I’ve had to learn that I never even considered before is how to write each line so it fits in the text box. It sounds obvious, but when I’m playing a visual novel, I don’t usually think about how each line has to be carefully constructed so it doesn’t need to be split up into two or more text boxes. In my mind, if a visual novel is well-created, there’s not much that breaks a reader’s immersion.

Planning & Outlining

The previous section might sound really weird to some people, so let me elaborate. I’m a lifelong ‘write by the seat of your pants’-er, so the biggest trial-and-error of creating Breathless Winds for me was planning out the game.

Initially, I created outlines for each of the four routes, and we agreed ahead of time on which CGs each route would have. That way, Doris could draw the necessary backgrounds and CGs while I was in the long process of drafting this game. My original outlines weren’t great. I know a lot of people have different experiences with writing, but for me personally, a story is always shaping itself in my mind. When I started making the outlines for Breathless Winds, I knew the concepts we wanted to convey, but I didn’t know what each route (and the game as a whole) was really about yet. This might sound weird and unprofessional, but sometimes, I don’t know what a story is about until I finish the first draft.

So while I was writing, I would look at my outlines and I would think, “this doesn’t actually make sense, he wouldn’t say that” or “this plot point would work better if moved to this other section” or “there’s a plot hole here I didn’t notice”. The story wound up changing a lot in this way as I learned what it’s really ‘about’.

And even after I finished the first draft, I’d get feedback from Doris and/or my editor and they would suggest fixes to problems that even I hadn’t noticed, and then I would revise the route some more, and later on I’d come back and need to redo part of the route to comply with something I wrote in a later route-- I haven’t really felt ‘finished’ with Breathless Winds at any point, and I think I’ll still feel this way after the game is released.

This means that sometimes, a background was created but would go unused because there was no space for the scene that would use it, or we’d need a new CG last-minute, or so on.

When I’m figuring things out as I go while writing a non-VN, the only person that I can adversely affect is my own self… so I’m eternally grateful for all of Doris’s patience with me on this matter. I think Breathless Winds has come out a much better game for all the re-plotting and revision.

I redid the outlines several times as I went. I think I’ve understood how to create outlines that personally work for me-- ‘living’ outlines that hit all the main points, but leave wiggle room for moments when a character does something unexpected, work the best for me.

Scope Creep

So, originally, each route was meant to be 40,000 words. “With four routes, that’s only 160,000 words!” I thought. “And some of my favorite visual novels are about that long, so I can write that much, too!” ← clueless

This is the most infamous mistake that new creators make, and I walked right into it. I should have known better since I’ve bitten off more than I can chew with past non-VN writing projects before, but I was starry-eyed and didn’t realize how much work it is to make a VN. Some of those favorite visual novels I referenced were made by much larger teams, writers whose full-time job was writing (I wrote all of these routes on the side while working at a day job).

If I could have done it again, I would have asked Doris to start out with a really short VN. But, I don’t regret making Breathless Winds at all. It’s brought Doris and I a lot closer, for one. Every time I thought I wanted to give up on this, Doris would motivate me to continue. Without the two of us both and our strong friendship, Breathless Winds wouldn’t exist, and I think that’s beautiful.

No matter what, we’re going to see it through to the end. (I hope people like it, though…)

Anyway, here I am talking about how much 40,000 words is. Each route now is about 60k to 70k words. The problem with having evolving outlines is that they can often evolve into double their original size.

We came up with the idea of the poachers really early in development, and then not addressing the poachers felt like a failing, but by that point it was too late to remove the poachers entirely… and so the game wound up a lot longer dealing with the poachers.

I think that if we had an editor sooner on in the game’s development, then we might have had someone to tell us, “do you really need all of this in the game? Does this plot point really need to be there? Will you be able to write all of this in a reasonable amount of time?”, haha. But Doris and I were really excited about the possibilities of this game when we started creating it, and without anyone to reel us back in, we wound up coming up with more and more things we wanted to put in the game.

Did you know there was going to be an island full of talking rats who say things like “the big cheese” and stuff all the time in Breathless Winds? Yeah.

The Core Design Philosophy of Breathless Winds

So, for anyone who’s read this far but doesn’t know yet-- the premise of Breathless Winds is that you play as a trans woman who doesn’t know she’s trans yet, and she finds love with one of four love interests as she discovers her gender identity.

In real life, it can be a lot messier for a person to date when discovering their gender identity. To put it briefly and mildly, a trans person’s life and sense of personal identity can rapidly change during a gender crisis and the early stages of transition.

However, we wanted to make this game a ‘wish-fulfillment’ type story-- a trans fantasy about acceptance, community, and love. During a gender crisis, it can be easy to feel as if one has lost touch with themselves and become isolated from others. A sincere wish shared by many trans people is to be accepted, loved, and even celebrated as their true gender, not just tolerated.

Since many trans people don’t get love and acceptance in real life, especially with the ongoing transphobic moral panic, we wanted to create a game that would bring this feeling of trans joy and celebration to trans audiences.

We also hope that cis players will still enjoy the story and characters, and maybe come away from the game with a new understanding about being transgender and other aspects of LGBT identity (although we never intended this game to be ‘educational’).

Making Characters that Celebrate Trans Identity

Although we went through several revisions, the core identities of each character stayed the same since the game was first ‘jokingly’ pitched. In another post, I discussed how each character is themed around a change in seasons. (I also wound up theming them around the four humors when I was initially concepting them-- I really wanted to avoid too much ‘overlap’ in the LI’s personalities, haha).

Ultimately, characters are created to serve a role. The LIs in Breathless Winds were designed to be love interests, of course-- characters who would appeal to the hypothetical trans femme audience. As mentioned earlier, we modeled them after other trans fiction tropes because these types of characters have a certain tried-and-true appeal, but this left plenty of flexibility to put our own spin on it.

A trans woman being loved as a woman by a cishet guy can feel like a high form of ‘passing’, ‘fitting in’ to the female gender role, and being validated by his orientation. He only likes women, and he likes you, so you’re undoubtedly a woman. As a cishet guy, he represents a sort of acceptance into a societal norm that trans women can desire to live to. (Lantana, as a cis lesbian, represents the sapphic counterpoint to this-- although there is of course a big gap between the ‘normalcy’ of a cishet man and a cis lesbian woman, and I don’t mean to say those two are equivalent.)

But not all trans women want to live to that (cis) societal norm. Rue and Valerian, as a trans woman and a trans man respectively, are the t4t options.

Rue’s route represents that trans/sapphic ‘envy’ (“do I want her or do I want to be her?”) as well as finding power in community aside from what society considers ‘normal’. We’ve always been pretty clear about what we wanted to do with Rue’s route.

We went back and forth a lot more on Valerian’s route. Initially, we were unsure if he should be trans. He and Rue are the two less-friendly love interests (at least initially), so I was afraid it would come across that t4t is a more hostile option, which is not true at all. But it also felt like a mistake to not have a trans man in the game-- but making Gallardia trans would have required a big overhaul of what we had in mind for him and his route. (Although, childhood friends t4t is a really good idea...)

Beyond that, Valerian takes a villainous role in any route that isn't his own. We were worried that it would be wrong to have a trans antagonist who represents unjust power. However, Breathless Winds is a queer game with other positive trans characters, and we've always approached Valerian as a hot anti-villain man that you can't help but like.

In the end, Valerian’s route is about breaking generational cycles and what it is that makes you a man, and I also managed to sneak in a scene where they dance at a ball in the royal palace, so in the end I think it all worked out great.

Wish Fulfillment and Catharsis

Doris and I both agreed that we wouldn’t depict on-screen transphobia in Breathless Winds. Poppy worries about not being accepted, but fear of acceptance can come with any change in identity. Rue was rejected by her family for being trans, but this doesn’t take place ‘on screen’ in the game. There exist certain metaphorical parallels for transness and transphobia, but every route has a happy ending.

Following up on this-- it can be difficult to write about discovery of gender identity without writing about transphobia, considering how many trans people suffer from internalized transphobia during their period of repression.

Sometimes, repressed/closeted transgender people ‘hyper-perform’ their assigned gender as a form of denial. A trans woman might grow out a beard and join a gym, while a trans man might become very interested in makeup and feminine clothing.

In Breathless Winds, Poppy often struggles with ‘strength’ and what it means to be a man. In several routes, she tries to prove her strength under the assumption that being stronger would make her happy. Afraid the world would reject her if she became who she really is, she preemptively rejects herself.

Not every trans person suffers from prolonged denial, internalized transphobia, or even gender dysphoria. I don’t think it’s impossible to tell a purely-positive story about trans joy.

While Poppy never gets rejected for being trans, faces transphobia, gets called a slur, etc, she faces both internal and external (metaphorical) obstacles to realizing and accepting her identity.

Gallardia represents a societal norm that Poppy can’t live up to herself as a man.

Lantana suffers from certain aspects of her identity as a woman, which makes Poppy feel guilt for wanting to be a girl.

Rue is isolated from town at the start of her route, a ‘punishment’ for breaking this societal norm.

Valerian has to hyper-conform to his masculine gender role at first in toxic ways before finding acceptance from within and from his loved ones.

These struggles are real to a lot of people, but instead of pretending they don’t exist, I hoped to tell a story about catharsis. Poppy is able to live up to her truth as a woman and finds love with Gallardia, Poppy and Lantana redefine what being a woman should and does mean to them, Rue and Poppy find community in others who don’t fit the norm, Poppy and Valerian stop seeking gender validation from a society that was never made to serve them.

Although these powerful forces of oppression exist, loving yourself as a trans person- and loving those around you, protecting the natural world, and standing up for what you believe in- can save the day. That’s the kind of story we wanted to tell.

Wrap-up

There’s a lot more I could write, but this has already gotten really long (sorry!) so I’ll wrap it up here.

Learning how to write a visual novel in terms of technical skill (how to depict events on-screen, how long each line should be) as well as in terms of writing skill (how to outline the game, how to plan visual assets) has been a massive undertaking for me.

Writing Breathless Winds has been a big challenge but also deeply rewarding, and all of your support has made the experience even more wonderful. Thank you for reading and thank you for supporting the game!

#visual novel #otome #dating sim #amare #trans #lgbt #breathless winds

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querenciasturniolo · 9 months

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strange ⮕ c.s.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: lots of inner monologue, awkwardness, swearing, corniness, she/her pronouns

summary: request

a/n: this was requested again by the lovely @rainsoakedphoenix!!! this was super fun, and i had the idea to write it from chris’ point of view (still second person pov), so hopefully it works 🤞🏻

(this fic has jokes written in it about “chris having a crush on matt” bc of how prominent the jokes are in the fandom, but it doesn’t solely revolve around those jokes)

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

The comments had been going on for ages, and Chris genuinely didn’t know how everyone found out.

the way chris looks at y/n in todays vlog ?

i never would have guessed the girl chris has been talking about is y/n, but honestly the last few vlogs have really swayed me

okay no, but how has this never occurred to me ? i would have thought she’d end up with matt

Sure, he’d always had a hard time hiding his emotions on his face, but surely the fans didn’t really know he had feelings for you. He’d tried to ignore all of the comments about it, until the edits started rolling in. Every other edit on his for you page was the way he looked at you when you weren’t looking, or the way he’d look away when you turned to face him with pink cheeks.

It was his fault, for letting it slip on a live that he had feelings for someone, and of course the fans started sleuthing. It wasn’t like he’d declared his love for you on the top of a building with a megaphone, but the swiftness in which the questioning comments turned into matter-of-fact statements on any vlog you were in or any photo dump you were included in had Chris realizing he really should learn to control his face.

“Have you seen this one?” Matt asked. Chris looked up from his phone and watched Matt’s screen. It was an edit, a few of the clips from Wednesday’s vlog showing how disgustingly enamored he looked with you. Chris groaned and flopped back on Matt’s bed. “Did you read the caption?” Matt asked, his voice sounding as if he was holding back a laugh.

Chris shook his head and mumbled a reply into the pillow, not even understanding himself as Matt read it out loud. “Chris really went from having a crush on Matt to having a crush on the girl equivalent.” Chris pulled the pillow off of his face and glared, Matt’s laughter spilling out of him as he pulled his phone back towards him.

“Don’t laugh at a joke about me having a crush on you, it’s fucking weird.” Chris grumbled. “And she isn’t even that much like you.”

Matt huffed and shrugged his shoulders. “Tell that to the countless comparison edits of the two of us on my for you page.” He retorted, Chris rolling his eyes and sitting up to throw the pillow in his direction. He stood, Matt glancing up from his phone with a frown. “Where are you going?”

He turned. “The living room, your presence is getting on my nerves.” He said, Matt scoffing and turning his attention back to his phone.

Of course he’d seen the comparison edits, how could he not? You were soft spoken, only occasionally getting loud enough when whatever you were talking about was important to you. You were incredibly observant, and never the first person to point something out. All of the fans had said you and Matt were one in the same, which made sense as to how comfortable Chris was around you almost immediately. But it was still odd that the fans said that, because to Chris, you were just…you, and he couldn’t help but catch feelings for you.

In all reality, it hit him like a truck, and it scared the shit out of him. One day, the four of you were hanging out, and then out of nowhere, he had a headache with how fast the realization hit him. Things were different after that, at least for him. It felt as though everything that came out of his mouth directed at you was awkward, and that you could see right through the facade he held up to keep his feelings from you unknown.

You’d continued to be yourself throughout everything, though it worried him that any time the jokes about Chris’ crush on you were brought up, you’d immediately blush and change the topic. He didn’t want to immediately think that you had feelings for him as well, but he also didn’t want to think you didn’t. He didn’t know what he wanted, truthfully. He wanted everything out in the open, but at the same time he didn’t.

Chris groaned and flopped forward on the couch, his groan being muffled by the couch cushions. He stayed like that for a while, ignoring the buzzing on his phone until he heard Nick walking down the stairs.

“Dude, Y/n’s been at the door for like five minutes, why the fuck didn’t you let her in?” He asked, not giving Chris a chance to answer before he descended the second staircase and opened the door. “Sorry about him, he’s in a mood or something.”

Chris heard your quiet reply and the sound of you and Nick climbing the stairs again. He still hadn’t moved from his position on the couch, even when he felt the cushion dip next to him.

“Everything alright?”

His heart rate spiked at the sound of your voice and he shrugged, though it didn’t work well. You laughed softly, and it felt like every nerve was on high alert. He finally pushed himself up and sat next to you, running a hand through his hair before meeting your eyes. You always had a look on your face, like you knew something was bothering him even though he hadn’t said anything.

“How do you do that?” He asked. You frowned.

“Do what?” You asked.

Chris sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “You always know when something is bugging me.” He said. You chuckled and shook your head, your eyebrows raising.

“Chris, I walked in and you were laying face down on the couch. It’s pretty obvious that something is bothering you.” You said, your voice light and teasing.

He blinked and sighed, putting his head in his hands. “Jesus, that was dumb, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, it’s funny. One thing I can tell is that you want to talk to me about it, unless that’s just me being hopeful.” You said, Chris looking over at you. It was true, you were the only person he wanted to talk to about this. He nodded, and he couldn’t help but relax when you adjusted to face him completely, and just watched him patiently.

It took him longer than he was expecting. He usually could say anything without a problem, whether he messed up his words or not, but this was you. He’d never had a problem talking to you about how he was feeling before, but it was near impossible when it directly applied to you.

You hadn’t pushed him, which he was grateful for. You sat right in front of him and waited patiently, nodding your head in encouragement each time he was about to speak, but not reacting when he didn’t. He groaned and threw his head back.

“Jesus, why is this so hard?” Chris mumbled. You shook your head and rested your hand over his, lightly squeezing it.

“Chris, it’s okay. Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.” You said, Chris sighing and nodding his head.

He was silent for a few minutes, but eventually met your eyes and took a deep breath.

“Do you wanna, like, go out? On a date?” He asked. You blinked, your face heating up and your heart racing as you processed what he said.

“Like, for real? This isn’t just because of all of the comments?” You asked, Chris smiling shyly and shaking his head.

“Well, the fans were right. I mean, about me liking you.” He said, wringing his hands together in his lap to take attention away from them shaking.

You couldn’t help but smile at him for a moment, looking away when his eyes met yours.

“I didn’t know it was true.” You said, your voice almost a whisper.

Chris glanced over at you, his chest pounding when he realized you hadn’t answered him, and that you couldn’t look at him.

“We don’t have to, if you don’t feel the same. It’s fine, really.” He said, pushing himself off of the couch. He paused when your hand gripped his wrist, looking down to see you grinning up at him. You shook your head and stood, trying your best to keep your eyes on his. It was insane, how someone’s eyes could be so intimidating but so kind and full of love all at once.

“I’d love to, really.” You said, blush traveling from his neck to his face. He cleared his throat and nodded, trying his best to fight off the dorky smile on his face.

“Okay.” He said, his voice quiet.

You chuckled. “Okay.” You repeated awkwardly, Chris’ smile coming in full force. You stood on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, his eyes widening slightly when you dropped down to your heels. You smiled at him, entwining your fingers with his.

Your hand fit so well in his, like a puzzle piece. He watched as you looked down at your hands. He ran his thumb over the side of your hand, smiling at the way you looked up at him shyly. He frowned when your eyes lit up and you smiled at him, confusion clouding his face as you lightly bumped his shoulder with yours.

“So that’s why you’ve been acting so strange.”

#chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

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totheblood · 7 months

Text

begging for rain. (three)

󠁐# THREE; the harder that it takes to undo

PAIRING: ex!ellie williams x nextdoorneighbor!reader

SUMMARY: moving to a new town can be tough, especially as you are trying to hold everything in your life together. after you meet ellie, your life completely changes, but for the better? well that's still up in the air

WARNINGS: mentions of death, grief, related subjects; cursing, mentions of drinking/drugs, mentions of s*x,

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

A/N : ok this was the longest chapter i've written to date so... please enjoy.... ONE AI AUDIOS IN THE FIC ! please please please like and reblog/reply/send asks, comments, the whole nine yards… it is so appreciated!

TWO YEARS AGO

It felt weird to be in Ellie’s house.

Ellie opened the door to a cozy living room with warm beige walls and wicker furniture that had been well-worn by time. An old acoustic guitar leaned against one wall and a record player sat atop an end table, surrounded by piles of vintage vinyl. The air was thick with the aroma of coffee and old books, creating a comforting ambiance. Family photos and posters dotted the walls, giving an insight into Ellie's life that made you feel like a intruder but also made you want to know more.

"Nice place," you said, removing your shoes at the door.

"Thanks," Ellie smiled, leading you to the living room. "You can drop your stuff there. We'll study at the table."

You took a seat at the sturdy oak dining table and ran your fingers over its smooth surface before settling into it. Scattered papers littered the table, some lined with handwritten lyrics, others with doodles intertwined in colored ink. You opened up your English books and laid out your homework, feeling a sense of warmth emanating from the room. The aged furniture added an air of familiarity, like you were being invited into Ellie's private world. Ellie seemed to be working on physics homework, while you had an English essay on Shakespeare to tackle. The juxtaposition wasn't lost on you—Ellie with equations and you with Elizabethan English.

You both settled into your work, the atmosphere tinged with concentration. Occasionally, your eyes would drift towards Ellie, watching her brows furrow in thought or her lips move silently as she read through her notes. Each time, you'd catch yourself and refocus on your own work.

"So, how are you finding the essay?" she finally broke the silence.

"It's... okay, I guess. Mrs. Porter has a way of making Shakespeare sound like rocket science."

Ellie chuckled. "Ah, the age-old struggle. To be or not to be confused, that is the question."

You laughed, and for a moment, the tension of the day seemed to lift. "You're not so bad at this, you know," you said. "Maybe you should consider a career in stand-up."

"And give up my dream of becoming a rockstar physicist?" she feigned surprise. "Never."

You smiled at her enthusiasm. "A rockstar physicist, huh? That's a first."

"Well, what about you? Any grand plans?"

You hesitated, thinking about your dad for a moment. You blinked, looking down at the book in front of you before looking back up at Ellie. "I'm not sure. I used to think I had it all figured out, but now... everything's so uncertain."

Ellie put down her pen and looked at you, her green eyes softening. "Uncertainty isn't always bad, you know. Sometimes it's just room for something new, something better."

You looked at her, really looked at her, and felt something shift inside you. "That's pretty wise for a 17-year-old."

She blushed a little, turning her attention back to her notebook. "Well, don't spread it around. I have a reputation to maintain. Plus, I’m almost 18."

The rest of the study session went smoothly. You’d occasionally sigh and drop your head in frustration, making Ellie stifle a giggle and demand you get back to work. You had only known her for a day and was already falling into a rhythm with her. You didn’t want to go home, but the sun was beginning to set and you wanted time to rest. Time to think about the day you had and try to make sense of it. When it was time to leave, Ellie walked you to the door.

"Thanks for coming over. It was fun," she said, her hands twisting together.

"Yeah, I had a good time too," you replied, feeling a strange mix of happiness and reluctance to leave.

As you stepped out into the cool evening air, Ellie's words echoed in your mind: "Uncertainty isn't always bad... it's just room for something new, something better." And as you walked back across the dirt path to your house, you couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, something new and better had already begun.

You walked into your room, shutting the door behind you as if to seal off the world outside. It was your sanctuary, a little haven where you could breathe, think, and just be. You tossed your backpack onto the bed and sank into your chair, letting out a sigh as you looked around. Your room was still a mix of unpacked boxes and half-arranged furniture—a physical representation of your current state of mind, unsettled yet hopeful.

Picking up your phone, you noticed you had an unread Instagram DM. Your heart skipped a beat; could it be Ellie? Unlocking your phone, you saw the message was from Ingrid. Curiosity piqued, you opened.

ingrid.xoxo: Hey there, newbie. How was your first day?

You felt strange reading her message. Like it was something you weren’t supposed to be doing. Was she just being friendly or was there something more? You quickly typed back.

y/nsworld: hey! It was a little overwhelming but good overall. how was your day?

Almost instantly, she replied.

ingrid.xoxo: Same old, same old. But seeing a fresh face around made it more interesting. 😉

The winking emoji caught your attention. Was she flirting? A little flutter of excitement mixed with confusion settled in your stomach.

Before you could process it further, the front door opened and closed loudly. It was your mom, finally home from work. You heard her footsteps coming up the stairs, and a few seconds later, she knocked on your door.

"Come in," you called.

The door swung open and your mom stepped in, her face tired but lighting up when she saw you. "Hey, sweetheart. How was your first day at the new school?"

You looked at her and smiled. "It was good, Mom. Made some new friends, and Ellie from next door is really nice. I went there and studied after school."

"That's wonderful," she said, her eyes shining with relief. "I was so worried you'd have a hard time adjusting."

"I mean, it's still the first day, but so far, so good," you said, shrugging. The relief on your mom’s face made you uneasy. You wanted to make this transition easy for both of you, but there was a newfound pressure building inside of you. You had to make it work here, even if you were unhappy. There was no escaping this place, and you suddenly felt trapped. Before your mind could go any further, she was speaking again.

"That's my brave girl," she said, coming over to give you a hug. "I'm so proud of you."

As she left the room and wished you a goodnight with a firm kiss pressed to the top of your head, you sat back and sighed. Your phone buzzed again. Another message from Ingrid.

ingrid.xoxo: So, got any plans for the weekend? Maybe you'd like a tour guide to show you around. 😊

There it was again, that undercurrent of something more than just friendliness. You found yourself smiling, both intrigued and uncertain. It was as if life, in its own whimsical way, was presenting new possibilities, each more complicated than the last.

You glanced back at the door, then at your phone, then at the unpacked boxes still sitting in your room. Everything felt like a question mark, and as Ellie had wisely noted, maybe that wasn't such a bad thing after all.

Lying back on your bed, you stared up at the ceiling, pondering your response to Ingrid, your new friendships, and the unpredictability of life itself. Uncertainty, as it turns out, could indeed be the room for something new, something better.

And so, with a mix of excitement and apprehension, you typed out your reply to Ingrid, hitting send before you could second-guess yourself.

y/nsworld: a tour guide sounds fun. i'm in. :)

PRESENT DAY

When Ellie's text popped up on your phone two days ago, you almost deleted it without reading it. The mere sight of her name on your screen was like a splinter you couldn't remove—small but persistently painful. She wrote that she missed your friendship, and though you wanted to scoff at her audacity, a part of you hesitated. Her words, "Can we at least talk? Just as friends?" echoed in your mind. Against your better judgment, a wave of nostalgia washed over you, and before you knew it, you found yourself typing, "Fine, but this doesn't mean anything." Now, as you stepped into the quaint coffee shop where so many of your past memories were brewed, you questioned that decision.

"You're early," Ellie remarked, her voice as flat as the expression on her face.

"I had nothing better to do," you responded, matching her tone as you stepped into the coffee shop. It was almost empty, the aroma of freshly ground coffee mingling with the subtle tension that had settled between you two.

"Of course, you didn't," Ellie sighed, sliding a cup of coffee your way across the wooden table. On it was marked with your order, two pumps of hazelnut, two pumps of vanilla, and one pump of almond, extra cream.

You looked at the cup, then back at Ellie. "You remembered how I like my coffee."

"I'm not completely useless."

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip while simultaneously biting your tongue. You had every right to tell her she was useless, but you refrained. It was perfect, just the way you liked it. "What do you want, Ellie?"

Ellie sighed, looking uncomfortable for a moment before speaking, "I wanted to talk. About us."

You almost snorted into your coffee. "Us? There is no 'us'. Not anymore."

"I know I messed up, okay? But can't we at least—"

"Messed up?" you cut her off, feeling the familiar surge of anger rise within you. "You didn't just 'mess up', Ellie. You broke something. Something that can't be fixed."

Ellie flinched as if you had slapped her. The look on her face almost making you feel guilty. But she didn’t have that right anymore, and you weren’t about to let her back in.

"I know. And I'll regret that for the rest of my life. But can't we at least try to be civil? For the sake of our friends, if not for us?"

You looked at her, really looked at her, and for a moment you were back in her living room, struggling with physics homework and discussing the uncertainties of life. Back when things were simpler, easier. But that was a different time, a different you, and most importantly, a different Ellie.

"Being civil is a far cry from what you're suggesting," you said finally, breaking the silence.

Ellie sighed. "I know I don't deserve a second chance. Hell, I don't even deserve your friendship. But can't we at least try to be... something?"

You stared at her, pondering her words. The Ellie sitting in front of you now seemed so different from the girl you had fallen for. And yet, there were moments, fleeting seconds, when you could almost see traces of the old Ellie—the one who made you laugh, who made you think, who made you feel like you were the only person in the world.

But those traces were just that—fleeting and insubstantial. The real Ellie, the one sitting in front of you, was a reminder of a chapter you had painfully closed.

"We can try," you said finally, "but I can't promise anything."

Ellie nodded, a mixture of relief and regret flashing across her face. "I guess that's all I can ask for."

As you both sipped your coffee in silence, the weight of what was left unsaid hung heavy in the air. And yet, for the first time in a long time, it felt like you could both breathe a little easier.

But as Ellie's eyes met yours, you couldn't help but wonder: in the quest for something new, something better, had you both lost something irreplaceable? There was something substantially broken between the two of you now, innocence on both parts lost.

TWO YEARS AGO

You found yourself standing in front of your bathroom mirror, staring at your reflection as you pondered what to wear for this so-called 'tour' with Ingrid. You wondered if you should aim for casual or if Ingrid, with her meticulous style, would expect something more. After rummaging through your wardrobe, you settled on a simple pair of jeans and a loose-fitting white shirt. Casual, yet presentable. You threw on a light jacket, considering the morning chill, and took one last look in the mirror. Satisfied but not entirely confident, you grabbed your phone and headed downstairs. Your mom was sitting at the dining room table, bowl of cereal in front of her with her spoon in one hand and phone in the other.

"Going out?" Your mom looked up from her phone, her eyes scanning your outfit.

"Yeah, a girl from school is showing me around town."

"Ah, great. Text me if you need anything." Her eyes returned to her phone, but not before you caught the fleeting look of relief. There the pressure was again, and in turn your sinking stomach.

"See you later, Mom," you said, heading for the door.

"Have fun, sweetheart!" she called out as you closed the door behind you.

As you approached Ingrid's car, you noticed her already leaning against it. She was wearing what could only be described as the epitome of 'casual chic'—ripped jeans, a designer top, and a pair of sunglasses perched effortlessly on her head. She looked up from her phone and greeted you with a broad, almost rehearsed, smile.

"Ready for your grand tour?" Ingrid inquired, her eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than you were comfortable with.

"Ready as I'll ever be," you replied, cautiously optimistic about the day ahead.

The interior of Ingrid's car was as meticulously maintained as her appearance. The leather seats were pristine, and the air was scented with something floral, bordering on overpowering. She started the engine, and you were off.

The first few minutes were filled with awkward silence. You sensed that Ingrid was waiting for you to initiate conversation, but you were too wrapped up in your thoughts to open your mouth to speak. Finally, she broke the ice.

"So, first stop, the infamous Longview Park. You'll love it—it's where everyone hangs out," she said, her voice tinged with enthusiasm that sounded slightly rehearsed.

"That sounds fun," you responded, forcing a smile.

As you drove through the town, Ingrid began to pepper you with questions. They started off harmless enough—questions about your old town, your interests, your favorite movies. But as the drive continued, the questions began to probe deeper.

"So, why did you move here? If you don't mind me asking," she added hastily, as though realizing she might be venturing into sensitive territory.

"My dad passed away. We couldn’t afford to live there anymore, so we had to move," you replied, trying to maintain composure. You had rehearsed this response, but it still felt like you were ripping off a Band-Aid every time you said it.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Ingrid responded, her voice softening for the first time that morning. But before you could reply, she was off again. "Are you seeing anyone?"

The abrupt switch in topic caught you off-guard. "Uh, no, not right now," you stammered.

"Really? Someone as hot as you? I find that hard to believe," she said, her eyes briefly meeting yours before returning to the road.

"Um, thanks," you muttered, not entirely sure how to interpret the compliment.

Ingrid seemed to take your discomfort as a cue to change the subject. "We're almost at Longview Park. It's truly the heart of our community," she declared, as if rehearsed.

As you pulled into the parking lot of Longview Park, you took a deep breath. It was time to see what this 'heart of the community' was all about.

he car rolled to a stop, and Ingrid switched off the engine, her eyes twinkling like she was unveiling a secret treasure. "And here we are—Longview Park. It's like the social hub of our high school world."

You opened the car door and stepped out, looking around. The park was sizable, dotted with large oaks and willows that offered generous shade. A playground occupied one corner, bustling with the laughter of children, while a pond shimmered peacefully in the mid-morning sun. People were everywhere—jogging, playing Frisbee, or simply lounging on the grass. It had a communal feel.

Ingrid led you along a gravel path, her steps confident and rehearsed as if she'd walked this path a thousand times before. "See that gazebo over there?" she pointed, "That's like the unofficial meet-up spot for parties and hangouts. And over there is the infamous 'Lovers' Lane' where couples go to... well, you know."

Her words were punctuated with a suggestive wink that made you feel slightly uncomfortable. You chuckled nervously, trying to dispel the awkwardness.

As you walked, you couldn't help but notice the way people looked at Ingrid—long enough to show interest but not too long to risk her noticing. She seemed to command attention effortlessly, and you couldn't tell if it was her charisma or if you were completely missing something

"Everyone loves to be here on weekends," Ingrid continued, her tone casual but her eyes scanning the area, as if looking for someone or something in particular. "It's a great place to catch up with friends or make new ones. Like we're doing right now."

She shot you a smile, the kind that was meant to be endearing but felt slightly off-mark. You returned it nonetheless. "It's a nice place. Very... lively," you said, choosing your words carefully.

As you neared the pond, you spotted a familiar face sitting on one of the benches—Cat. And next to her, unmistakably, was Ellie. They seemed engrossed in conversation, their faces inches apart. A pang of something—was it jealousy?—stabbed at you, but you quickly brushed it aside.

"Hey, look who it is!" Ingrid's voice brought you back to reality. She had followed your gaze and was now staring directly at Ellie and Cat. "Want to go say hi?"

You hesitated. The last thing you wanted was an awkward run-in, but before you could voice your concerns, Ingrid had already started walking toward them.

"Hey Cat, Ellie!" she called out, her voice unnaturally high. Both heads turned in your direction, and the range of emotions that crossed their faces in that brief moment was unsettling—surprise, confusion, and something else you couldn't quite put your finger on.

"Hey Ingrid," Ellie finally spoke, her eyes meeting yours for a fleeting second before returning to Ingrid. "What brings you here?"

"Just giving our new resident a grand tour of Longview Park," Ingrid replied, her arm casually draping over your shoulder. You felt a shiver run down your spine but chose to ignore it.

"That's nice of you," Cat chimed in, her eyes narrowing slightly as they settled on you. You couldn't tell if she was being sincere or just sizing you up.

"Yeah, it's been fun," you said, forcing a smile. But your eyes met Ellie's once more, and the unspoken words hung heavily in the air between you.

"Well, we won't keep you," Ingrid said abruptly, as if sensing the tension. "Lots more to see. Come on," she tugged at your arm lightly, and you followed her back to the path, leaving Ellie and Cat behind.

As you walked away, you felt Ellie's gaze burning into your back. You wanted to look back, to catch one last glimpse of her, but you resisted. Whatever was or wasn't happening between you and Ellie would have to wait. Right now, you were on Ingrid's turf, and you couldn't help but feel like a pawn in a much larger game.

"Shall we continue?" Ingrid asked, breaking the silence.

"Sure," you replied, but your thoughts were already miles away.

The door clicked shut as you slid into the passenger seat, your thoughts still reeling from the encounter at the park. Ingrid revved up the engine and pulled away, humming softly to the beat of the song playing on the radio. You looked over at her, everything about her seemed staged.

"How did you like the park?" she asked, casting a quick glance in your direction.

"It was... interesting," you said cautiously. "It's a nice place, very lively. Lots of history, I imagine."

Ingrid chuckled. "Oh, you have no idea. It's like the theater of high school drama. Anything and everything happens there."

Her words hung in the air, and you couldn't help but feel like there was a deeper meaning behind them. But before you could ponder it further, your phone buzzed. Glancing down, you saw Ellie's name flash on the screen.

Ellie: hey. can we talk later?

You felt a mixed bag of emotions, but you were mostly nervous. You hadn’t taken the group's warning and hung out with Ingrid anyays. It wasn’t like she was two fingers deep inside of you, but with the way Cat and Ellie looked, it seemed that way. You were about to type a response when you noticed Ingrid's eyes flicking toward your phone screen, then back to the road.

"Who's that?" she asked, her tone casual but her eyes betraying a hint of curiosity.

"Just a friend," you said, choosing your words carefully. "We're supposed to catch up later."

"Oh," she responded, but you could sense a change in her demeanor, a tightening around her eyes. "Well, I hope I'm not keeping you from anything important."

"No, not at all," you reassured her, quickly typing a response to Ellie. "Sure, let's talk. Text me when you're free."

As you pressed send, you couldn't help but wonder about the timing. Why did Ellie want to talk now? And what was it about? Your thoughts were interrupted by Ingrid turning up the volume on the radio, her fingers drumming rhythmically on the steering wheel.

"So," she began, breaking the momentary silence, "we've covered quite a bit today. Any highlights?"

You pondered the question. "Well, the park was a highlight, I guess. It's always good to know where people hang out. Makes me feel less like an outsider."

Ingrid smiled, but there was something about it that made you uneasy. "You're not an outsider, you know. You're just new, and new can be exciting."

"Thanks," you said, your phone buzzing again. This time it was a text from your mom asking about your day.

Feeling the need to switch gears, you asked, "So, how long have you been living here? You seem to know everyone and everything."

"Born and raised," she declared proudly. "It has its pros and cons, but I like it. And yes, I do know a lot of people, but it's not hard when you grow up here. Everyone kind of knows everyone."

"That must be nice," you said, though a part of you wondered what it would be like to have that much history in one place—so many connections, but also so many ties that could bind you.

"Yeah," she paused, her expression turning serious. "But it can also be a bit suffocating, you know? Sometimes you just want to break free, start fresh somewhere new. Like you."

You looked at her, intrigued by this sudden glimpse into her thoughts. "Well, starting fresh isn't as glamorous as it seems. It has its own ups and downs."

"True," she conceded. "But at least it's a blank slate."

Before you could respond, your phone buzzed again. Another text from Ellie.

Ellie: i really need to talk to you. it's important.

This time, you couldn't ignore the urgency in her message. Something was up, something significant. You looked up to find Ingrid watching you, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, but her tone suggested she already knew the answer.

You hesitated, weighing your options. "Actually, I might need to cut our day short. Something's come up at home."

Ingrid's eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw something flicker in them—disappointment, perhaps, or maybe something else.

"Of course," she said, finally breaking eye contact. "Life happens. Let's get you home."

You stepped out of Ingrid's car, waving goodbye as she drove off. Your phone buzzed as you approached your front door, another text from Ellie.

Ellie: can you meet me at the grind? it’s about two blocks away from our house. i can drive us back.

You texted back a quick "on my way" and made your way over.

Ten minutes later, you walked into The Grind, the local coffee shop where the whole town seemed to be at this moment. As you scanned the room, your eyes met Ellie's. She was seated at a corner table, her phone face down and her fingers nervously tapping a rhythm against her coffee mug.

"Hey," you greeted as you approached, pulling out the chair across from her.

"Hey," Ellie replied, her eyes meeting yours briefly before averting. "Thanks for coming."

"No problem. Sounded like it was urgent. What's up?"

"I saw you today," she began cautiously, "with Ingrid."

A knot formed in your stomach. "Yeah, she was showing me around. Why?"

Ellie hesitated, looking down at her mug, and tapping the handle. She closed her eyes for a moment, choosing her words carefully. "Be careful with her. She's not what she seems."

"I mean I heard what you guys said about her at lunc but," you replied, taking a sip of your coffee. "She seems harmless."

She sighed, running her fingers through her hair. Cut right above her shoulders, the choppy layers suited her face. "Ingrid has a way of getting close to people, and it's not always for the right reasons. I just don't want you to get hurt."

Your eyes met, and you felt a strange warmth spread through you. Ellie was concerned for you. But why? She had only known you a day. You searched her face for an answer, for anything, but you came up short.

"Do you have something against her?" you asked, not hiding your skepticism.

"No," Ellie was quick to respond, "it's not like that. I've just seen her ruin friendships, relationships. She's manipulative."

"You seem serious," you remarked, detecting a tinge of something in her voice—was it jealousy?

Ellie looked down at her mug, her fingers ceasing their tapping. "I just don't want history to repeat itself, okay?"

"History?" you questioned, leaning forward. "What happened?"

She looked up again, her eyes meeting yours again, but this time they were vulnerable, exposed. "Ingrid and I had a thing once. And it felt more serious than her ‘things’ with Cat and Dina. And let's just say it didn't end well."

Now it made sense. The hints, the caution—it was personal for Ellie.

She held your gaze, her eyes searching yours for something you couldn't name. "Also," she paused, as if weighing whether to continue, "You’re my friend now. I care about you. And I don't want to see you get hurt."

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air was thick with unspoken words.

You finally broke the silence. "Thank you for telling me, Ellie. I appreciate it."

She nodded, her eyes never leaving yours. "Yeah, yeah. Of course"

As you left The Grind, your thoughts were a swirl of confusion and clarity. Ellie's concern had added another layer to the already complicated dynamic of your new life. But through it all, one thing became clear—Ellie cared about you, maybe more than she was willing to admit.

And as you replayed the conversation in your mind, you couldn't shake the feeling that Ellie wasn't just warning you about Ingrid. She was also staking her claim, marking her territory in a landscape that was becoming increasingly complicated.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fan fic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams oneshot #modern!ellie williams #college!ellie williams #ellie williams one shot

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wandaslittlelove · 1 month

Text

Destined Part 1

Warnings for this chapter: None?

Series Masterlist

I sighed as I heard a loud knock on my front door. Grabbing the bag of flour I made my way to the door assuming it was just my neighbor Marcy wanting some for baking again. The girl never seemed to have any and always came over for mine which I didn’t mind. I just started buying more when I would go to the store.

“Marcy hun you should really just-” I froze as I saw Strange on the other side of the door and a young girl stood next to him.

“y/n nice to see you.” He spoke. With a sigh I sat the flour down on the small table by the door before inviting them in.

“Tea?” I asked while making my way into the kitchen as they both followed after me. The young girl politely nodded her head and took a seat at the island along with Strange who sat a very old looking book down on the countertop.

It was silent for a minute. The only sound being me getting down three mugs and the teapot whistling on the stove.

I sat the tea in front of the two along with some sugar as I took to standing across from them.

“What do you need Strange?” My tone came out more bitter than I wanted it to but I couldn’t help it. After I left what remained of the Avengers I had hoped I would never have to see his face or any of theirs ever again. That's why I moved to Ohio so that I would be away from the never ending drama that is New York and to be close to my sister's grave.

“I- We need your help. This Is America Chavez. She’s able to travel the multiverse.” With those words I choked on my tea.

“The multiverse?” I questioned not trusting my ears to have heard the right thing.

“Yes. You know about it?” He asks as he and the girl, America, looked at each other.

“Vision often talked of his theories during movie nights” The word Vision seemed to make me scowl remembering how he got the life with the person I had loved. The person who was supposed to be my wife.

“You said Wanda said the same thing” This was the first time the girl had spoken and the way she said Wanda had made your whole body shiver. It was as if she was scared of the woman.

“You spoke to her?” I hadn’t heard anything of her since that night I left. I expected to at least see something about her on the news but she never came up.

“Yeah. She’s after me. She’s been sending these weird creatures after me to take my powers.” America explained as she fiddled with the mug.

“She has the dark hold y/n” The words caused me to stiffen. I had only heard of the dark hold a few times while I was studying with Strange but I knew it was nothing good. It was described as the book of the damned and anyone who touched it became corrupted. “I need your help in protecting America. Yours and Wanda’s magic are almost complete opposites. While hers is chaos magic while yours is Order magic.” The two shared another look as if they both knew something I didn’t. I watched as Strange opened the book he had brought and flipped to a page. “With the help of the darkhold Wanda has become the Scarlet Witch. Everything anyone had ever known about her is written in this book like a prophecy.” I nodded as I listened to his words. “It also speaks of yours.” He slides the book over to me and setting my tea down I quickly read the page he had opened to.

The Scarlet Witch bringer of chaos and the White Fawn bringer of life and creation:

The Scarlet Witch is not born; she is forged. She has no coven or need for incantation. Her power exceeds that of the Sorcerer Supreme. It is her destiny to destroy the world.

The White Fawn is the opposite of the chaos bringer. She is born to counteract the actions of the Scarlet Witch. Her destiny is to heal the wounds, love, and calm the Chaos Witch.

My eyes scanned the page three more times before I slammed the book shut. I watched as America jumped in her seat and I sent her an apologetic smile as I slid the book back to Strange.

“That can’t be right or it can’t be me. Wanda does not love me. I will not let my destiny be what is written in some book. What is she even after in the multiverse?” My question seemed to keep Strange quiet for a moment before he spoke.

“You”

Tag List: @alexawynters @username23345 @casquinhaa @idontknow-llol

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