#I LOVE MY BOYS THEY DESERVE EVERYTHING GOOD IN THIS WORLD
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
bloomfenix · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
I'm so normal about shiguang, yep, completely normal
(I wanna grab them like a squishy toy and [[aggressive hand movements]] yeah)
Vgen || carrd
39 notes · View notes
stansavvy · 1 month ago
Text
Boy appreciation post
I appreciate my boy
14 notes · View notes
tamagotchikgs · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
i am so filled w love rn i am so ,,,,, Something. & maybe i am allowed to be comfortable w someone for the first time ever mayb i am safe...... i keep saying this because i never thought i would b. but it only feels more true,,, more possible as time goes on n that is wild 2 me
#when did i get here how did i get this how did i get the best thing in my whole life#they r so fucking cool they r everything good in the world#& i adore them w my whole soul#i dont even know how 2 convey it#i dont deserve any of it but god does it feel so good. to just. be able to give love n receive it n it feel .Real#feel like maybe i can fit n exist n have a place even if it's with a single person#not only a place where i belong but where i am allowed 2 love#because like !!!!!! holay molayyyy !!!!!!!!!! i love !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! them so much !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#i dont even know how to show it but a !!!!!!!!!!!!! it is in there n it is bubbling every second n i . every moment spent w them is nourish#nourishing my soul#straight lasagna in that bad boy#there has never been anything more important or interesting 2 me i have ever come across in the world than them#yea i still get nervous or . self-conscious w them sometimes because o boy they deserve the world but. it feels so different#it's different to the one i feel everywhere else#im not gonna lie the strong emotions i get because of how much i care can b.. agonizing when it's the bad ones#but the good outweighs them so hard#and ive never had that#usually the bad hits n it takes me down n thats it#i keep going down#but here i get down n then. hey wait. here is good#here is sosoososos much good#n i cherish them for the way they can handle my shit so much HBJABH...#on top of already loving them#instead of . me being a problem it's ok#they grab my shit n twist it#it's like i can be a person if im with them#and the experiences i have had n continue 2 have build onto me#like i am a person. and i can see it. which i never have been or could before#but more than any of the ways they affect me i just love them for . the fact they r them#standalone they r so fucking incredible. n i want them to know that i want them 2 feel that too
4 notes · View notes
doctorweebmd · 7 months ago
Text
coming out of my baldurs gate 3 delirium (aka i am working a night shift and can't physically play it. at work.) to say that horikoshi. horikoshi when i GET YOU. you are NOT leaving izuku with no quirk and no arms. i am in your walls
#bnha spoilers#also. more evidence that horikoshi read zero-sum game#like come on the twins thing the izuku losing his quirk thing the losing his arm thing the shiggy getting decay from afo thing#TELL ME THE TRUTH HORIKOSHI. DID YOU READ MY FANFIC.#i'm joking of course. he's just done a really good job of foreshadowing through the series. its a marker of an amazing author#and i know that izuku probably won't lose both his arms and his quirk. i fully expect it to be a happy ending in some way shape or form#this is a sixteen year old boy who sacrificed EVERYTHING. more than he ever had to give#and he had less than a year. LESS THAN A YEAR.#sorry i'm already crying thinking about the scene of him holding shigaraki's hand even though it will decay him........#izuku who knows better than ANYONE what shigaraki's power can do.... reaching out to him. caring more about others than about himself.#he's just. he's so good. he's SO GOOD. he deserves the world#tbh i feel like eri HAS to be involved at this point. she's the deus ex machina in all this#that or overhaul#both of their abilities can at least physically restructure izuku's body#it would actually be a very interesting redemption point for overhaul.......#i mean WHY ELSE RESCUE HIM. and why give him THE SAME FUCKING INJURY#what a powerful thing it would be to have eri give overhaul his arms back#and overhaul learning about goodness and forgiveness from this girl he's done nothing but abuse and torture#and saves izuku........#its about ATONEMENT. its about GROWTH. its about IT NEVER BEING TOO LATE.#AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I LOVE YOU MY HERO ACADEMIA#... ok. i'm normal. its fine.#on another note#i loved the ending to my first bg3 run which i think i finished Tuesday/Wednesday. i cried.#IMMEDIATELY started a durge run where i'm playing a male human bard instead of the female half-wood elf ranger#i was like 'haha. i'll make a character based on hisoka from hxh! i'm gonna be SOOOO evil! >:))#and guess who still isn't good at being big evil. ME. at worst i'm probably chaotic neutral.#its wild i'm already finding SO MANY new scenes i missed on the first playthrough even though i'm making a lot of the same choices#so it still feels super fun and fresh. more so now because i kind of know the characters and the mechanics better#my current playthrough i'm with lae'zel shadowheart and asterion with no intention of switching out
5 notes · View notes
doctorbrown · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Your future is whatever you make it! So make it a good one!
2 notes · View notes
hoperays-song · 2 years ago
Text
Rynny as Troupe Reference Images
***None of these images were made by me. All credit to the og artists***
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
12 notes · View notes
minamotoz · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
a song about a guy who is afraid of change and commitment but still acts as though he has the authority to tell other people what they should be doing with their life...... s5-7 cory matthews
4 notes · View notes
kamajisplace · 2 years ago
Text
This. This is so true and it really breaks me open, cleaves my chest in two when I think about how much time they should’ve been given but, either way. Their connection and understanding is beautiful.
One of my favorite things about Asheiji is it has all the makings of a potentially terrible and toxic relationship, yet it is...not.
When I first heard about Banana Fish, I was hesitant to watch it because I thought it was going to feature a toxic pairing that people fawned over because of the aesthetic of it. I was pleasantly surprised to see that it was nowhere near that.
The reason people fawn over Asheiji is not because they think it's perfect and without fault, but because of how healthy it is, given the circumstances.
Ash could have easily adopted the manipulative ways of his abusers or the cold and distant ways of his father, but he did not. Instead, he has shown that he has the capacity to love, whether it's his camaraderie with Shorter, his protectiveness over Skip, or his fierce love of Eiji (and yes, it's fiction, but there are many people in real life who have experienced evil, yet chose kindness instead of continuing the cycle of abuse).
I love this scene
Tumblr media
Because it took place not even 24 hours after he stormed through and burned down a mansion just to find Eiji. Doesn't even know him that well but was willing to risk life and death for him.
So we have two teenaged boys, one of whom is severely depressed yet hides it from everyone, and another who has been abused, exploited, and mistreated by countless people, yet they have a relatively healthy relationship (again, given the circumstances) where they care about each other and have normal arguments and disagreements where they can apologize to each other; of course people will love their relationship. For some reason, there are people who interpret this as fans choosing to overlook their flaws.
Tumblr media
We know Ash isn't perfect. We know he's not good at communication; most people aren't, especially teenagers, and especially a boy who was literally told that "boys don't cry", and most likely learned how to keep his tears and innermost feelings bottled up. Our opinions on their relationship are based on all these factors.
Ash Lynx and Eiji Okumura are a wonderful and flawed pair. In a different time and place, their relationship would've been sugary, fluffy perfection; unfortunately, they were not allowed to have that. Supporters of their relationship have simply chosen to acknowledge the violence and tragedy of their world, while praising them for finding slivers of kindness and love in it, that's all.
Tumblr media
438 notes · View notes
adiraargent · 10 months ago
Text
In a world full of boys, he's a gentleman <3
Synopsis: the Slytherin boys and the 'gentleman' things they do Warnings: None :) Characters: Mattheo Riddle, Theodore Nott, Tom Riddle, Blaise Zabini, Jasper Rowle
This is Part 1 :)
Tumblr media
Mattheo Riddle: opening doors for you
"Hey there, my love," Mattheo greeted, flashing a grin as he held the door open for you. You rolled your eyes playfully at the endearment, a fond smile tugging at your lips as you looked up at your boyfriend.
"Always the gentleman, huh?" you teased, stepping through the door of the Slytherin common room as he held open with a light chuckle.
"Hey, gotta treat my girl right," he replied, trailing behind and falling into step beside you. He nudged you gently with his elbow, his laid-back demeanor effortlessly charming.
He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head. His lips lingered for a moment, and you couldn't help but blush at the tenderness of the gesture. "You're my everything," he whispered, his voice filled with genuine adoration.
Whether they were heading to class, grabbing a bite to eat, or just strolling through the castle halls, Mattheo made it a point to hold doors open for you. It wasn't a grand gesture, just a simple act of courtesy, but it spoke volumes about his thoughtfulness.
"You spoil me too much, you know that?" you remarked with a grin, as Mattheo held the door of his dorm for you.
He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Can't help it. You deserve the world," he shrugged, following you inside. He wrapped his arms around your waist, playfully throwing you on the bed before snuggling up next to you, holding you tightly against his chest.
Their laughter filled the air as they chatted about anything and everything, discussing everything from stupid things their friends had done recently to their favourite movies. Mattheo listened intently, his eyes lighting up as they shared their stories.
Tumblr media
Theodore Nott: Holds your face with both hands when kissing you
"Hey," Theodore greeted softly, his fingers trailing gently along your jawline before cupping your face tenderly, drawing you into a sweet kiss. His touch was always gentle, his palms cradling your cheeks as if you were the most precious thing in his world.
"Hi," you whispered against his lips, smiling as he leaned in to press another soft kiss, his touch grounding and comforting.
"Did you have a good day?" Theodore asked, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek as he held your face in his hands.
"Mmm, it was alright. Nothing compared to this though," you replied, your voice softening as he leaned in for another kiss, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.
He pulled back slightly, his hands still cupping your face, his eyes filled with warmth as he gazed at you. "You always make everything better."
"You too," you said, feeling a surge of affection as his touch lingered, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along your skin.
"Can I just kiss you forever?" he murmured, his forehead resting against yours, his touch never leaving your face.
"That sounds like a plan," you chuckled, enjoying the feeling of his hands on your cheeks, grounding you in the moment.
As he leaned in for another kiss, his hands framed your face once more, holding you gently but firmly, his touch sending a rush of warmth through you. Each kiss felt like a silent declaration of his love and care, his hands a constant reassurance that you were cherished.
"Promise me something," he said softly, his gaze intense as he held your face in his hands, his touch so tender it made your heart flutter.
"Anything," you replied, feeling a rush of emotion at the sincerity in his eyes.
"Promise you'll never forget how much you mean to me," he whispered, his hands trembling ever so slightly against your skin.
"I promise," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings.
Theodore smiled, his touch becoming even more gentle, as if he was memorizing every contour of your face. "I love you," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss.
"I love you too," you replied, feeling a surge of emotion as his hands cradled your face.
Tumblr media
Tom Riddle: Subtle things to make sure you don't get hurt
In the midst of a quiet classroom, Tom and you sat side by side, the ambiance filled with the hushed tones of a lecture. You were unconsciously fiddling with your quill as your tired eyes lingered on the teacher, doing your best to listen to whatever he was saying.
A small sigh slipt from your lips as your dropped your quill, the small object rolling under your desk. As you leaned down to retrieve your quill, Tom subtly shifted, his hand discreetly finding its place at the edge of the desk, ensuring you wouldn't hit your head upon rising.
"Thanks love," you whispered, meeting his eyes for a fleeting moment, noticing the faint blush that graced his cheeks as he quickly looked away.
"Wouldn't want you getting hurt," he murmured, his voice barely audible, trying to cloak his concern with an air of indifference as his eyes went back to the teacher.
"I appreciate it," you replied softly, a small smile playing on your lips, acknowledging his unspoken worry.
Throughout the class, the subtle ways Tom looked out for you were apparent. Whether adjusting his posture to prevent you from bumping elbows or discreetly sliding a book closer to your reach, his actions spoke louder than his reserved words.
As the lesson progressed, you dropped a parchment, and before you could react, Tom swiftly picked it up without a word, his gaze briefly meeting yours with a hint of concern before retreating into his usual stoic demeanor.
"Thanks," you said, your voice warm with gratitude, feeling the corners of his lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smile before he composed himself.
"Merlin you're an idiot," he mumbled under his breath, a small smile twitching on the corner of his lips. He loved you, and he did his best to show it. To some, these may just seem like small gestures, but to you, these acts meant everything.
Tumblr media
Blaise Zabini: Looking after you while you are sick
"Blaise, I think I'm dying," you groaned, your voice muffled by the mountain of blankets you'd buried yourself under. The room echoed with your misery, and you could practically feel Blaise's amused gaze on you.
"Quite the melodrama you've got going on there," he chuckled, entering the room with a tray in hand.
You peeked out from under the blankets, giving him a weak glare. "This is not melodrama. I'm genuinely dying. I might need to write my will."
He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Last I checked, you're broke. And if you're going to die, at least wait until you've cleaned up the mess in the bathroom."
You shot him a scowl before returning to your cocoon of misery. "I'll have you know that this is a serious illness. I even got Pansy to get me a book from the library so I can read about my symptoms."
He set the tray on the bedside table, glancing at you with a mix of amusement and skepticism. "And let me guess, according to Dr. know it all, you have a rare tropical disease only found in the depths of the Amazon rainforest?"
"No, it says I have a severe case of man flu," you deadpanned, voice muffled by the blankets.
Blaise burst into laughter. "Man flu? Really?"
You shot him a glare from under the covers.
He shook his head, still chuckling. "Ok, ok. I come bearing gifts to nurse you back to health."
He lifted the tray to reveal a steaming bowl of soup and a cup of hot tea. Your eyes lit up, and you managed to sit up, sniffling pathetically.
"Ah, the healing powers of chicken soup," he declared dramatically, handing you the bowl.
You took it gratefully, inhaling the comforting aroma. "You're the best, you know that?"
"I try," he said with a wink, settling onto the bed beside you. "Now, eat up. We can't have you wasting away on my watch."
As you sipped the soup, Blaise watched you with a soft smile. "Feeling a bit better already?"
You nodded, the warmth of the soup soothing both your throat and your mood. "Maybe I won't die today after all."
He chuckled, running a hand through your hair. "Good to know. I was planning on having a quiet night in, not attending a funeral."
You swatted him playfully, earning a smirk from Blaise. "You're lucky I'm too weak to defend myself properly."
"Consider it a mercy on my part," he teased, taking a sip of his own tea.
As the night wore on, Blaise stayed by your side, occasionally offering more soup, fetching tissues, and regaling you with stories to keep your mind off your misery.
"You're surprisingly good at this whole nurse thing," you admitted, snuggling into the blankets.
He grinned, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Well, when the patient is you, it's almost enjoyable."
You rolled your eyes, but a small smile played on your lips. "I must be really sick for you to admit that."
He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. "Maybe you're just bringing out my softer side."
You sighed dramatically. "I never signed up for a softer Blaise Zabini."
"Too late now," he replied with a smirk, holding you a little tighter. "You're stuck with me, even if I have to nurse you back to health every now and then."
You leaned into his embrace, feeling grateful for the care and comfort he provided. "I suppose I can live with that."
And as you drifted off to sleep, wrapped in blankets and the warmth of Blaise's presence, you couldn't help but feel that maybe being sick wasn't so bad after all, especially when you had someone like him to take care of you.
(This is my favourite for sure)
Tumblr media
Jasper Rowle: Doing your shoelaces
The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a soft golden glow into the room as you and Jasper sat comfortably on a bench in Hogsmede just of to the side of Zonko's, enjoying a leisurely stroll that had turned into a serene moment of shared silence.
"Oops," you pouted, looking down at your untied shoelaces, a small sigh falling from your lips as you went to go and tie your laces.
"I've got it darlin'," Jasper said with a gentle smile, bending down on one knee before her.
"Jasper, you really don't have to," you protested, a faint blush gracing your cheeks at the unexpected gesture.
He shook his head with a grin, his fingers deftly working on your shoelaces. "I've got it, can't have my girl tripping on her own shoelaces, can I?"
You chuckled softly, unable to hide your affectionate smile as you watched him tie the laces with care. "You're too good to me, you know that?"
He glanced up at her with a warm smile. "'Just don't want you getting hurt."
As he finished, he ran his thumb over your knee softly a few times before standing up and placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head, causing your heart to flutter. The simple act filled you with warmth and adoration.
"Thank you," you murmured, touched by his gesture.
"Anytime, my love."
Their fingers intertwined as they resumed their stroll through Hogsmede, the cool breeze carrying the faint scent of baked goods, more than likely from a stall near by. The world seemed to slow down around them as they walked hand in hand, enjoying each other's company.
Hi all! This is my first post, hope you enjoyed it :) I take requests for many different fandoms and characters <3
6K notes · View notes
sleep-0-deprived · 1 month ago
Note
Yandere CEO who is serious and strict but becomes a real puppy at the reader's feet, he gives everything the reader wants and kneels before him asking to be able to touch and give pleasure to the reader.
Yandere CEO x male reader imagines~! ૮꒰ྀི ⸝⸝․․⸝⸝ ྀི꒱ა
Tumblr media
A/N (I did the Yandere as a sub top and I thought of the Yandere being mid forties while reader being late twenties because I thought it fit best anon!) <33
Just imagining Yandere CEO being a complete heartless man to the world, old and cold as they say. Until he seen your resume running across his desk and if you told him of love at first sight he would scoff at you and kick you out but oh my, when he seen the small picture of you next to your resume he didn’t even care to read it because this man was going to have you. The only words he could think of was “he must’ve been crafted by the gods, I bet Adonis himself spent his life carving those lips” shivers went through him dialing your number trying to get a interview with you.
Just imagining Yandere CEO who hires you at first for your pretty face making you his assistant putting you a desk in his office wanting all eight hours of your days to be spent close as he can get to you, being soft and sweet for you unlike his mean and cold demeanor with the rest of his employees. he’d glance over at you typing something on your computer quietly asking “are you alright? Did you need a break, your hands aren’t sore are they?….i can get you into a nice spa if you’d like. I don’t want my best employee burnt out”
Just imagining Yandere CEO who gets you gifts on the daily nearly pouting if you tell him not to, all he wants is for you to cling to him! He’d beg and plead asking you to let him suck you off whispering in your ear “let me help you out, boy?…I wanna ease you up a bit, you deserve the best so just let me give it to you” he’d mumble getting on his knees and massaging your thighs nice and gentle getting your cock out of your slacks worshipping it nuzzling his face into it peppering your angry tip with wet kisses.
Just imagining Yandere CEO who sends you flowers takes you on fancy trips. Sending you to Rome with him when he goes to sort out business you’re sitting somewhere in a fancy restaurant holding his black card telling you “buy anything you want, I wanna spoil you baby..” and by the time he gets back to your five star hotel room all he asks os for all your affection groaning into your ears holding you by the waist bucking and thrusting his hips up into you from beneath murmuring on and on rambling having you on his cock sending shivers through him “oh you’re so perfect~ pretty little thing~ hng oh fuck moan a little louder you sound angelic like that—“ he’d whimper spilling into you nibbling on your shoulder softly.
Just imagining Yandere CEO who asks you all sweetly if he can have you cock warm him while he manages files, pleading just wanting to please you wanting to have you all sprawled out like a happy cat with his chubby tip pressing and massaging your walls just bullying your prostate while he tugs at your cock like its glass having you orgasming more times than you can count pleasing you like it’s his life’s mission “c’mon baby boy, one more for me? I know you can push it out shhh doin perfect there’s a good boy”
Just imagining Yandere CEO who loves your chest, worshipping them as his holy grail sucking at hurrying his fave in your pretty s/c pecks. Nibbling at your nipples pressing little kisses to your peaks using his hands to massage them while he rotates back and forth making sure each one gets the perfect amount of attention “they are so beautiful sweetheart, god your skin tastes so divine” it was like sex polling with your skin covered in the finest nectar for him driving him insane hazily looking up at you with complete and utter infatuation.
2K notes · View notes
highvern · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
When in Rome
Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x f!reader
Genre: fluff, smut, angst
warnings: alcohol consumption, cheating, nudity, mentions of drug use, explicit sexual acts (unprotected sex, dirty talk, oral, swallowing)
Length: ~24k
Note: excited to have this for the @svthub world tour collab! thank u to @gyuswhore for helping, @wonuvs for fact checking my shitty italian, @the-boy-meets-evil for making sure i actually finished this fic bc i live to torture her and everyone else who contributed to this over the months it took me to finally write it!
this is from cheol's pov which was a new challenge but i loved it (i will never do it again). i'll be out of town when this goes up but can't wait to read everyone's feed back!!!
Summary: After months of no contact, Seungcheol isn't sure what to expect when he sees you again at Jeonghan's wedding. He's prepared to apologize, to grovel, to bear the weight of a cold shoulder. Whatever it takes to have you back, his best friend since diapers; or whatever will ensure the last third of your trio has the best day of his life. But when he overhears the most recent development in your relationship, he must come to terms with something he was never prepared for, or risk losing you for good.
m.list
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.
Tumblr media
There are fewer places Seungcheol hates more than airports. Dentist offices, his grandparents’ house during the holidays when they ask about grandkids, and even the time he ran into his elementary school science teacher the first time he was buying condoms at the pharmacy, all were more favorable than the hustle and bustle of an international airport. 
Seungcheol likes to be straightforward and direct. Something that becomes seemingly at odds with the average person traveling because at the one place everyone has somewhere to be, they act as if they have all the time in the world.
But the simple thought that it's all temporary, that his personal ninth circle of hell is the only thing standing between him and a week in Italy is enough to grin and bear it. 
On the other side of the terminal, his best friends are waiting for him. It’s not as if they haven’t seen each other for long; Jeonghan and Sofie were at bar trivia last week as their last hurrah before tying the knot. As usual they wiped the floor with everyone, rousing several allegations of cheating that Jeonghan deserved. But Seungcheol is about to watch them get married and it makes him a little misty around the eyes because he loves his friends more than anything. 
The only concern, which is less of a concern and more of a titanic size anchor sinking in his gut, is that you’re one of Sofie’s bridesmaids. And you haven’t spoken to him since New Years when you revealed you were moving to New York with your boyfriend, Johnny.
Another place Seungcheol dreads, right next to the airport, is anywhere Johnny happens to be. He’s everything you aren’t: abrasive, arrogant, catty, disorganized. And those are just the traits at the front of the alphabet. 
You had a plan. A list of criteria he had to listen to over and over again after each failed date. Even the guys Seungcheol set you up with after carefully vetting didn’t seem to make the mark. It was respectable, commendable. You wouldn’t settle for anything less than “perfect.” Whatever that meant to you. 
At a bar, three years ago, Johnny approached you. Seungcheol watched from across the table as you mentally ran over your checklist. Johnny met the physical ones: tall, good hygiene, well kept appearance. The other things would need more investigation. What did he do for work? Was he close with his family? Kids? Opinions on cheating at bar trivia?
The more Seungcheol learned about Johnny after your detailed debrief from a few dates the more confused he became. Johnny worked in banking. You hated finance bros and called them scum of the dating pool. He was an only child and only talked to his parents on holidays and birthdays. You had grand dreams of close grandparents and houses full of cousins. He didn’t want kids. You did. He didn’t think bar trivia was that serious. Seungcheol watched you threaten Jeonghan’s life on more than one occasion over the use of Shazam during the music round. Johnny was everything you said you didn’t want. 
And then you followed him across the country after two years of dating cut with three breakups. 
It didn’t make sense. 
When Seungcheol pulled you aside after you announced you’d be moving, trying to figure why you thought living with the man who once asked if you really needed to wash bath towels if you only use them when you’re already clean, you told him to mind his business. Later that night, after enough drinks to make everything blurry, you two got into a screaming match on the sidewalk with your shared friends attempting to play referee. It was the last time you two spoke. 
In over twenty five years of friendship, founded on the backs of elementary school shenanigans under a reign of terror of one Jeonghan Yoon, you and Seungcheol’s real fights can be counted on one hand. 
The sixth grade field trip where you and Jeonghan left him out, senior year of highschool when the girl Seungcheol took to prom argued about his parents taking more pictures with you than her, and junior year of college when Seungcheol caught you making out with his frat brother after ditching him under the guise of having a stomach bug. That was it. Three fights, all of which were resolved within a week because as stubborn as you both are, you’re best friends. 
Five and a half months of not speaking, except when you called Seungcheol in the middle of the night without leaving a message and when he tried calling you back in the morning you didn’t answer. Not until a month later when he finally swallowed his pride and texted a half hearted apology to which you responded with a quarter of forgiveness. That was it. 
But Seungcheol won’t dwell. He refuses to make things awkward for Jeonghan and Sofie during the most special week of their lives. Knowing you, you’ve probably already come to the same resolution. The only person you’re closer to than Seungcheol is Jeonghan with Sofie a close second. If there is anyone you two will agree to put aside an argument for, it's them.
The sun has already begun setting when he makes it through customs and out towards the Arrivals, painting everything in buttery yellow. 
“SEUNGCHEOOOOOOOOOLLLLLL!” Sofie screams, hands cupped around her mouth.
She’s half outside the cherry red sports car. An Intermeccanica Italia Spyder because Seungcheol knows three things in life: expensive watches, expensive whiskey, and expensive cars. Sofie’s family happened to have plenty of the last and Seungcheol assumed the first two as well.
When Sofie became his study partner in law school she ended up following him on Instagram. He assumed from the way she carried herself, perfect posture with tailored clothes and an ‘air of society’ as you called it, that she was well off. But then, during a late night gossip session, you and he did a deep dive and found out Sofie wasn’t just well off. Her family had more money than God. 
But everything on the surface was a contrast to who Sofie really was. Heiress to a fortune but studied more than anyone in their class just to graduate second. Perfect posture and tailored clothes are a stark contrast to her favorite bar where she’d outdrink anyone, and cheer when the prize for trivia was cheap plastic margarita glasses.
Or right now, where she belts Seungcheol’s name again like some drunk frat boy while sitting in a car worth more than his life.
Seungcheol jogs to where she waits, already smiling. 
“I would have brought a ‘Welcome back from rehab’ sign but my mom thought you’d be embarrassed,” Sofie says as she hugs him over the console. 
“At least make it ‘welcome home from prison’ so people won’t walk in my way.”
“I’ll make sure Jeonghan remembers you have a preference,” she calls over the wind. 
Technically, the house (which is really a mansion) is almost an hour from the airport. With Sofie’s driving it only takes twenty minutes in which Seungcheol thinks he might need to start going to church. 
The pebbled driveway crunches underneath the tires as they approach the imposing building he’d call home for the weekend.
In the evening light, the house is more daunting. An imposing stone facade rises from the ground, akin to a small castle than an actual home. Smooth stone with detailed carvings, windows with huge shutters, and on the top floor, a balcony, fenced with wrought iron, juts out.
Even after years of seeing pictures, Seungcheol still can’t believe his friend grew up here. He can’t believe it actually exists and isn’t some set from a historical drama.
Sofie throws the car in park right in front of the door before jumping out. 
“By the way, there were some issues with one of the rooms.” Sofie drops her voice, “My aunt and uncle are fighting again, so I hope you don’t mind sharing?”
Seungcheol knows most of the guys coming to the wedding. Worst case scenario he’s stuck in a twin size bunk bed with a weird cousin. And with how busy he’ll be as best man, his room will be for sleep and not much else. “Yeah, that’s fine.”
“Perfect! Just leave your stuff, everyones out back.” Sofie pushes him as hard as she can manage which isn’t much at all given she’s five foot nothing. 
The garden is filled with bodies upon bodies crowded together, some old, some young. Seungcheol recognizes a few faces in the mix: Soonyoung, Joshua, Seungkwan. More friends from law school. Jeonghan’s sister waves from across the way. Everyone seems to be paying attention to whatever is happening at the iron garden table. 
And then, like a scene in a movie, everyone parts for a second and time freezes. 
Seungcheol would recognize you anywhere. Even if he can’t see your face, he knows it's you. The curve of your shoulders, the tilt of your head. The bark of laughter as your chin drops forward. He knows it's you and the weight in his stomach lightens and leadens in an odd cycle.
He missed you.
Then everything comes back into real time. Wine and cards. Then he sees the chips on the table, your stack to the side significantly higher than anyone else's. 
Months of ruminating over what he’d do when reunited fly out the window. Seungcheol doesn’t waste a minute as he approaches, hand on the back of your chair as he peeks over your head to sneak a glance at your hand.
“Who let you talk them into poker?”
You’re already smiling when you tilt back to look at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
Oh, how he missed you.
“She said she didn’t know how to play,” an old man grumbles from the side. 
Seungcheol doesn’t recognize him but he’s got the same expression as all the people you’ve sharked before: mildly impressed and slightly murderous. Two other guys sit at the table, one old enough to be his grandfather looks almost proud. Seokmin fills that last seat, head in his hands at being swindled so easily. 
“I said,” you start, throwing your gaze to him. “I hadn’t played in a while.” 
You look back up at Seungcheol for some kind of support. Eyes round and innocent in a way you both know you’re not. Pool, cards, darts, any game a man a few drinks in could beat you at was easy fodder for your con. Usually it ended with free drinks, sometimes money, but mostly it’s Seungcheol playing referee for the disillusioned guys you swindled while wearing a bright grin. 
Tossing a few chips towards the three men at table with a smart ‘don’t spend it all in one place,’ you rise and throw your arms around Seungcheol like everything is normal. 
“Hi,” you whisper into his neck.
Seungcheol’s hands are already curled around your waist, pulling you in tight. “Hi.”
“I missed you.”
Seungcheol doesn’t think to question the sudden rush of familiarity after months of silence. Every fight in your long friendship ended this way; you both stew and stew until one day things snap back to normal. It’s how it’s always been.
“I see that you can’t even greet your best friend.” Jeonghan coughs from the side.
Seungcheol squeezes you tighter at the jab. It’s Jeonghan’s wedding but Seungcheol saw him last week when dropping the couple off at the airport to come here. He’s far more interested in dragging out his reunion with you as long as possible. “I’m in the middle of that actually.”
He scoffs in response, walking away. “Whatever, I see too much of you anyway.” 
There’s glasses of wine waiting when you break apart. Seungcheol keeps closeby, not that you seem eager to go anywhere. His staring is obvious but he doesn’t care. You’re really here and the cold shoulder he expected to find is nowhere to be found.
Another two hours of celebrating, filled with drunken toasts and more card games with Sofie’s family that only end with you digging into their pockets even deeper, fly by before the exhaustion of a day starting in one continent and ending in another catches up to him. You’re too busy arguing over if Jeonghan cheated in the last round to notice Seungcheol slipping away from the table and towards the door leading inside.
Sofie is in the kitchen just beyond, another bottle of wine sloshing in hand as she talks animatedly on the phone. “Okay, look. I am on vacation. I’m about to get married. I literally left notes for everything I'm not working on during my wedding week. Figure it out. Bye.”
She hangs up without response, tossing her phone on the counter before taking a swig straight from the bottle.
“Good?” Seungcheol asks.
“Oh, you know, just the usual. I leave and suddenly no one knows how to do their job.” Sofie rolls her eyes. “What’s up? Need another glass?”
She raises the same bottle and the thought of more wine nearly turns his stomach.  
Seungcheol brushes her off, moving to the sink and rinsing his glass with finality. “I think I’m gonna crash for the night.”
“Really?” she asks. “But the party just started!”
“For you maybe, some of us have been cramped on a plane all day.” He feels it. In his back and knees. The cramp in his neck from passing out halfway through and waking up bent at ninety degrees. And the hours he spent agonizing through emails with the inflight WiFi because even on vacation he can’t sit still for more than one minute. But now it’s a ticking time bomb before he curls up in a chair and passes out until morning.
Sofie snatches his glass before shooing him away from the sink and taking his place. “I forgot you’re an old man now.”
“You’re the same age as me?”
“Anyway,” she sings. “I know we promised you’d have your own room but—”
“That’s fine. I really don’t mind rooming with one of the guys.”
“Well… you and Y/N were the only ones not sharing and she said she wouldn’t mind for the weekend.”
“Huh?”
“I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal! Seokmin and Kwan agreed to share and room with Josh so things are pretty tight but I can see if we can switch things around and—”
“No, if she’s okay with it then it's fine.” Seungcheol says. “We just haven’t talked since, you know?”
Sofie seems to soften at that. “I know. But it looked like everything was fine outside.”
“Yeah,” Seungcheol sighs. “I missed her.” 
“I know she missed you too.”
“She said that?”
“Oh please, neither of you have to say anything, you’re both pathetic,” she says while pouring another glass. “But I think this weekend will be good for you guys! Like old times.”
Old times. Before the fight. Before you moved away.
“Yeah, just like old times… At least we aren’t sharing a bed, right?” He jokes. 
“Actually,” Sofie grimaces. 
The one solace Seungcheol is gifted is the bed is massive. Almost the entire room is dominated by the plush mattress, a dresser, and a chair in the corner. He considers sleeping in that instead for all of a minute before realizing you probably wouldn’t let him and the absolute torture it’ll do to his neck. 
At least the forced proximity won’t be awkward since you’ve silently agreed to leave the past behind you. He can’t imagine Sofie would consider this solution if you were still mad at him, even if it was her wedding week. The realization lightens the weight on his shoulders an ounce more.
Seungcheol throws his bag down at the foot of the bed. It’s no big deal; sharing a room with you. Childhood sleepovers had been the norm, a few nights in college you’d shared a clunky old twin bed when you both were too drunk to find your ways home separately. Your first apartment together, when you two had to share a mattress on the floor for the first weeks because all your money went into paying rent, flash in his head. Old times.
Thirty minutes later, freshly showered and in clean clothes, Seungcheol heads back downstairs for a glass of water before bed.
He remembers where the kitchen is after Sofie’s short tour, trapezing through the huge house easily. Behind different closed doors he catches glimpses of pre-sleep conversations: couples spitting harsh whispers to each other, a few cartoonish voices reading bedtime stories to an audience of childish giggles. But when he reaches the threshold of his destination Seungcheol stumbles into an entirely different atmosphere.
“You haven’t told him yet?”
“No. I didn’t feel like the kind of thing to say over text,” you whisper.
“Well you could have called him!”
“And say what? ‘Hey Cheol, I know we haven’t talked in months because we got into a huge fight about my boyfriend but Johnny and I–’”
Seungcheol strains his ears to hear the rest of your sentence but fails to decipher anything before Jeonghan’s voice cuts in. Whatever ‘it’ is, you seem keen on keeping it a secret.
“Just tell him.” Jeonghan says through a mouthful of something. “I’m sure he’ll be happy.”
His mind races with a million possibilities, all related to Johnny, all things you wouldn’t have told your best friend of over twenty years because of some stupid fight. Something you don’t know how to tell him over the phone, something you need to tell in person.
The realization strikes like lightning.
You and Johnny are engaged.
Thirst forgotten, Seungcheol turns back the way he came. He thinks through the new information as he stumbles up the stairs.
How could you not tell him? How could he make you feel like you couldn’t tell him? How long have you been hiding this? And why did Jeonghan and Sofie know before he did? Was everyone in on the secret and he was the odd man out?
You and Johnny weren’t even that serious when you moved away; or, that's what Seungcheol thought. In all honesty he fully believed it was some joke when you told him. A drunken practical joke taken too far but you didn’t laugh when he did. There was no punchline to share. The boxes were packed away and then the moving truck came and you left with it. 
Everything else hits him in the seclusion of the bedroom. Your shared room. He doesn’t even have the luxury of coming to terms with your latest surprise in private. 
Seungcheol isn’t happy. He is, but because you’re you, argument aside. The past few months are the longest you’ve ever gone without each other and seeing you again lifted a weight off his chest he’d come accustomed to in months of silence. 
It’s an easy decision. If Johnny makes you happy enough to tie your lives together then Seungcheol can bite his tongue. You’re his best friend and by default he’d never think anyone was good enough for you but if you loved Johnny, if you were this serious about him, then Seungcheol would support you.
Even if it meant there would always be a Johnny sized ravine between you.
Tumblr media
Seungcheol wakes far before the sun breaches the horizon. The room still washed in the shadows of early dawn grants him some peace to think over his own conflicts with the news, your quiet snores a backing track from across the bed.
On your side facing him, Seungcheol gets the first good look at you in what feels like forever. Even with the size of the bed barely a foot of space separates your bodies. You hand twisted in the hem of his shirt like even in your sleep you can’t stand to be apart more than necessary.
You look ridiculous; hair a mess and limbs splayed. But your face is soft in sleep, eyelashes fanned on your cheeks and lips in a pout. 
There’s an odd flutter in his stomach. He wasn't lying when he said he missed you. But now things are complicated. 
He hadn’t slept at all last night; mind constantly replaying the conversation he heard in the kitchen, formulating his reaction when you finally let him in on the ‘surprise.’
Perhaps under different circumstances he wouldn’t struggle with news. Seungcheol wants you to be happy. Johnny is the problem in the scenario. They never got along, barely spoke outside of the few times forced circumstances required them to. Seungcheol was polite. Johnny was polite. 
Seungcheol wanted to kill him and he’s certain Johnny felt the same.
Relationships naturally take priority over time but Johnny seemed to creep in and choke Seungcheol out of all the places he’d been firmly planted for years. Another reason he isn’t happy.
Monday night Bachelor? Canceled, because Johnny plays beer league softball with his friends and you started going to that.
No more sleepovers at Seungcheol’s after a night out because ‘it makes Johnny uncomfortable.’ Fair complaint. Seungcheol wouldn’t appreciate his girlfriend sleeping over at a guy's house after drinking if the roles were reversed. But Seungcheol isn’t some guy and you were his best friend before you were Johnny’s girlfriend.
Traditions at Christmas felt hollow without you. The first one you spent meeting Johnny’s family in Minnesota you texted Seungcheol the entire time about how cold it was, how they were a 5k on a holiday type family despite the fact there was three feet of snow outside. 
All small details that mean everything to Seungcheol, never meant as much to you. 
And that’s why he doesn’t like Johnny. Because he made Seungcheol realize that.
It’s not that you and Johnny didn’t work. Seungcheol just couldn’t wrap his head around why you wanted to overlook all the glaring differences to make it work.
But pointing that out left him with a cold shoulder lasting six months so he plans to keep his mouth shut.
You tried talking to him before bed but gave up when he pretended to be asleep. It took everything he had not to give in and talk into the early morning. Six months was more than enough ground to cover for you two to catch up; he was promoted, you had an entirely new life in another city that he wanted to hear all about. His insane neighbor from across the hall, who you both are sure sells drugs, is actually a preschool teacher (mysteries of the universe). And he knows you probably have kooky neighbors of your own in New York.
But, in all honesty, he didn’t want to hear stories with Johnny’s name attached. Wasn’t ready to hear you say you’re engaged. It’s one thing to know it. But the second the words leave your lips then it’s real. Then Johnny is here to stay and it's only a matter of time before you two are arguing again.
Especially when everything said months ago was still fresh in his mind. Words he’d stand by no matter what. But Seungcheol has figured out that there are conversations he’s allowed to have with you and ones that should never see the light of day if your friendship is to survive. Johnny is one, the other is a memory from college that remains vivid no matter how hard he tries to forget.
But this weekend wasn’t about you and him, it's about Sofie and Jeonghan. If Seungcheol can dive into focusing on them, maybe he’ll survive.
Today is the one day reserved for sightseeing before ‘the inevitably disorganized shit show of an Italian wedding’ as Sofie puts it. 
Seungcheol has already seen some of the big things thanks to his study abroad in undergrad: the Colosseum, the Trevi Fountain, the Pantheon. So for today, he'll stick by whatever you want to do. You’re the building nerd architect.
When he finally finds the willpower to roll away, carefully extracting your grip on him before ducking from the sheets, you stir enough to release a sleepy whine in protest before burying back under the blanket. 
It’s odd but he notices you’re not wearing a ring. Seungcheol looked closely if you took it off before bed but nothing stands out in the bathroom or on the dresser. He assumes you took it off to make the weekend about Sofie and Jeonghan rather than yourself. It’s something you would do. Or maybe it’s at the jeweler’s for repairs. Maybe Johnny had gaudy taste and bought a ring so flashy you refused to wear it. 
Seungcheol doesn’t know but it strikes him as strange.
The kitchen is already bustling with life even at such an early hour. Family and friends trickle in one by one, joining Seungcheol at the table with cups of coffee and munching on fruit and biscuits as their hangovers ebb. Quickly, the peace he preserved in the early quiet melts into loud laughter and a million buzzing conversations.
You melt into the chair beside him, eyes barely open as you snag his cup and scowl after finding it already drained.
“Coffee?” you mumble.
Seungcheol pushes his plate of unfinished fruit and a half finished pastry you way. “Sofie’s mom is brewing more. But it’s strong.”
“Oh trust me, I know,” you say around a mouthful of jam and dough. “I drank a full cup the first day I got here and felt like Sonic.”
“That’s how you know it’s good.”
“You’re insane.”
“What are your plans for today?”
“So there's this church, the Santa Maria Sopra della Minerva. It’s near the Pantheon!” you ramble, peeling another orange. “It’s just beautiful and it's got a statue by Michelangelo next to the altar and the design is incredible.”
Seungcheol can’t help but laugh at your enthusiasm. A city filled with ancient buildings and history is right up your alley. 
He remembers how you pouted when he came back from his trip in college after yours to Venice was canceled due to ‘not enough student interest.’ The only thing that managed to quell your anger was all the pictures Seungcheol took with you in mind. Close ups of the tiniest details about ancient designs tour guides pointed out to disinterested business majors but he knew you’d care if you’d been there. If you were there then you’d probably be leading the tour yourself whether the guide liked it or not.
“Mind if I come with?” he asks over his fresh cup of coffee.
“Duh,” you roll your eyes with a smile. “I waited for you to get here to go.”
Sofie’s uncle, the one not under threat of murder by his wife, agrees to drive you both out. He drives at full speed from the second he hits the gas pedal. With the windows down. The breeze is as nice as a wind tunnel and cuts off everything Zio Berto tries to point out except for his screams at other drivers. 
On the other side of the back seat, you’re turning green. Seungcheol is glad the window is already down because if you get sick, he will too. And Sofie would refuse any payment for the cleaning fee, Seungcheol is morally opposed to ruining such a nice car with vomit.
The city whips past outside the windows, cobblestone streets slowly growing more crowded as the car edges closer to the center city. Berto finally slows down to avoid pedestrians and mopeds but only by a fraction. He doesn’t seem to share Seungcheol’s concern about body fluids clashing with the car design.
Finally, after what feels like a century, the car jerks to a stop. You don’t even pretend to be polite and exit immediately, hands on your knees while dry heaving for air.
“I’ll be around. Have fun!” Berto calls from the driver's seat. “Call me when you’re ready to head back.”
Seungcheol waves him off and when he turns back where you were standing, you’re already gone; circling the elephant obelisk in the center of the cobblestone courtyard.
“Isn’t it so cool?” You gush, snapping photos.
The exterior of the building is unassuming. Flat sandstone brick without much detail but you see the things that are important. In a few minutes you’ll be in tour guide mode, pointing out the smallest crack no one would see unless they already studied the church's history in depth.
“Soooo cool,” he jests. He appraises the statue with you, turning his head this way and that. 
You slap his shoulder, “Don’t be a jerk!”
“Okay, okay. Give me the tour.”
“It was built on the ruins of a temple of Isis.”
“Okay, and why the elephant?”
“The obelisk was taken from the Church of San Stefano del Cacco down that way,” you point. “It's originally from Sais in Egypt but got moved all the way here. The elephant was commissioned by the pope to display it based on a book that was popular at the time.”
“Interesting.” 
You point at the inscription on the plinth before continuing, “that’s from the book.”
Sapientis Aegypti insculptas obelisco figuras ab elephanto, belluarum fortissima, gestari quisquis hic vides, documentum intellege robustae mentis esse solidam sapientiam sustinere.
“Whoever you are, who sees here the figures of the Egyptian wise man carved on the obelisk carried by the elephant, the strongest of wild animals, understand the symbolism to be that a strong mind supports firm wisdom,” you translate. 
“I didn’t know you read latin.”
“I don’t. It’s in English on the other side,” you laugh. “But I do know, the guy who designed the statue made it look like it's farting because the pope told him to change the design from what he originally wanted.”
“Really?”
“Yep. He said having it stand on four legs was dangerous so the sculptor added the saddle and a cube at the base, but he also made its butt face the convent so the friars would have to see its ass every time they came out.”
“Wow.”
Seungcheol circles the statue and sure enough the tail is angled to look like it's blowing wind.
“I’m pretty sure it’s a lie but I’d like to think people were that petty hundreds of years ago. Now all people do is subtweet and post vague Instagram stories. I want someone to hate me so much they design an entire statue just to minorly inconvenience me each morning.”
You’re fully of facts Seungcheol would never know. It’s one of the best parts of visiting places with you. It’s not just some building or some random statue. You give the architecture a new life.
Seungcheol’s mind flashes back to the first time he accompanied you and Johnny to a monument back home. In the five minutes you’d been there, he realized Johnny truly did not care about your interests.
The look on your face that day told him you realized Johnny didn’t care either.
It’s the same pact everyone that moves to D.C. makes to visit all the museums and monuments and landmarks. Good intentions with zero realistic goals. Except you’re stubborn and the drive to say you did something means Seungcheol has tagged along to thirty out of the one hundred and fifteen on your list. Johnny missed most either from work trips or some other excuse and the one Seungcheol missed had been the only one Johnny came to because of the flu.
Safe to say the first time visiting together was a shit show. Johnny didn’t pretend to evaluate the ‘important’ parts, didn’t ask questions or bother reading the placards detailing events of significance, raced through the entire thing to leave you and Seungcheol behind. It’s not like you or Seungcheol were overwhelmed with beauty and needed hours but Johnny finished his round after less than thirty minutes and told you to text him when you were done. 
So Seungcheol did the only thing he could to get back at Johnny without upsetting you: walked as slow as possible, pointing out things he knew you’d know more about, and dragging things out so Johnny was stuck waiting in the frigid winter wind outside to suffer.
You knew what he was doing, obvious from the way you hook your arm through his and give an affection squeeze. Your smile didn’t reach your eyes but you both pushed through.
Thank whatever powers be that Johnny wasn’t here now.
“See the windows?” you ask, pointing to the three different sized circular windows hanging over the main doorways. 
“Yeah,” he nods.
“Well you can’t tell from here but they’re rose tinted.”
Seungcheol tries to see what you’re talking about but the windows are dark and covered in some kind of lacquer that makes them look gray and dusty rather than pink.
“And why is that important, Professor Y/L/N?”
“Because it’s the only medieval church in Rome like that!” 
You continue rambling off facts, talking a mile a minute as your point at different things and walk Seungcheol around the exterior. A few other people's ears perk up as you go on about how the details had been done over and over; first Romanesque, then Gothic then, some guy named Carlo Maderno added Baroque designs inside, and friars who put in stained glass windows.
By the time you take a breath, the crowd has taken a closer interest in the windows and the elephant statue due to your brief history. A few look at the flood plaques which are some of the best preserved records the city has.
Seungcheol hangs onto every word. He doesn’t care about the old church, it’s an interesting bit of history sure but he could be outside any church in Rome and have the same reaction. He cares about the church because you care. And your passion about old windows and flood markers make it the most interesting place in the world right now.
“Go stand on the steps so I can take your picture,” you demand.
“Do I have to?” Seungcheol jokingly complains.
“Just go.”
Seungcheol poses as you direct, flashing a few silly poses you laugh at. He manages to wrangle you into taking a few photos as well. Ones that will probably be sent to your mom and never see the light of day other than her Facebook. Your Instagram is reserved for, in order: buildings, animals, food, and the rare picture of you with friends at some sort of occasion (wedding, graduation, the time Jeonghan broke his leg drunk on a city scooter and ended up in the ER). 
You’re in the middle of pretending to hold the Leaning Tower of Pisa when someone approaches Seungcheol.
“Would you like us to take your photo?” an elderly woman asks. She is a quintessential tourist: fanny pack, camera around her neck, sun burnt around the ears. A man in a matching shirt approaches with her, donning the same gear and pink tinge. Seungcheol recognizes them from a few minutes prior when you gave your lecture about elephant butts and petty sculptors.
“Sure, thank you.”
He hands over his phone and joins you on the steps. You both pose like normal adults, smiles plastered on your face while Seungcheol gives you bunny ears and you pull his hair.
“Beautiful couple!”
“Oh, we’re not…” You both object.
“We’re on our second honeymoon.” The man croons at his wife, chuffed when she rolls her eyes and focuses on the camera screen. “You two?”
“We’re here for a wedding.”
“Wow! Married in Rome,” the wife gasps. “How romantic.”
It isn’t the first time you two have been mistaken for a couple. Anytime you’re with him or Jeonghan someone assumes you’re dating. Occasionally, you’d play it up, make an entire story about how you met, how long you’ve been together, biting your tongues the entire time as each detail is more ludicrous than the last.
Jeonghan takes the cake as the most ridiculous. Two tornado chasers that ran into each other ten years ago and never let go. Him and Seungcheol, not you. Which really threw the waitress off. Never mind the fact you all were sophomores in college, high as kites and stuffing yourselves full of hashbrowns in a greasy spoon diner for Seungcheol’s birthday.
“Did you two meet here?” the husband asks.
“Oh no, we actually met in a competitive bowling league,” you fib, wrapping your arm through Seungcheol’s.
What the hell?
“Romantic!” The wife belts like she actually believes nothing could inspire love like sharing shoes with countless strangers and cheap beer.
Seungcheol would take the piss under any other circumstances. Except this time you’re actually engaged and the last time you two pretend to be a couple was when you fake proposed to him in a fancy restaurant to score free champagne and dessert to celebrate the end of law school.
“Would you mind taking a few of us?” the man asks.
You snap a few pictures on the wife’s phone and after more coos of ‘romantic!’ and a few thank yous they melt into the crowd.
“Alright, let's go inside.”
“Lead the way.” Seungcheol feels more awkward than before, cheeks red but not from the sun beating down
Upon entering the church, he discovers the inside is much more interesting than the outside. Holy water stoups are held up by marble. Two statues flank the entrance. There’s more things to see than Seungcheol’s brain can handle but he follows behind you, mind lingering on the scene outside.
“‘My husband’?” Seungcheol asks.
“What? We won’t see them again. Who cares?”
Probably your own fiancé but just as Seungcheol opens his mouth a priest silences him with a sharp, “SHH!”
Passing through a high stone archway, you enter the nave. The ceiling, cobalt and gold with motifs of  biblical figures and cherubs, rises high above. 
“Look!” you whisper. “Isn’t it cool?”
Your point at a marble Jesus wearing a bronze loin cloth.
Cool isn’t the word he’d choose but he goes with it.
“Michelangelo started it but two other people had to finish it for him.”
“Oh.”
“But people still call it Michelangelo’s statue because it’s more impressive. Besides, he did most of it before his apprentice took over.”
He observes the paintings and statues, the stone work that bulges from the walls like they’re trying to come alive and escape their immortal capture. There’s even a tomb and shrine with incredible detail. 
It takes two hours to see everything and another thirty minutes to make your way out of the church because you both keep catching missed signs or there's some tiny piece of the ceiling with an odd detail.
He missed this.
Outside, you open your phone and look at the message from Sofie. She made the recommendation to come down here and gave an extensive list of everything else to be done in the area. There’s so many options it would take at least a week to see half of them.
“This hotel has a rooftop restaurant that’s supposed to have a good view of St. Peters,” you say.
The restaurant would have a great view of the city, if it wasn’t shut down for renovations. The staff don’t even let you near the elevator before you’re both swept outside and back on the street.
“Well…” Seungcheol starts.
“Should we call Berto?”
He doesn’t want to. Partially because Berto’s driving might kill him and also because he doesn’t want to end his time with you just yet. One of the things he missed about you living in the same city was weekends in museums for hours. Now that he has it again, he hesitates to cut the time short.
“Wait, I think we’re near one of the parks we visited when I came in college.”
“Oh my god,” you gasp sarcastically. “Did you study abroad? I never knew!”
“Shut up.”
Seungcheol pulls out his phone and dials Berto’s number. “Hey, Berto. No, we're good, everything is fine. But I was wondering how far away is Villa Borghese from us? Oh really? Would you be able to come drop us off? Awesome. Thanks man.”
“Well?”
“He’ll be here in five.”
Five minutes turns into fifteen and in that time Seungcheol burns out. Jetlag and the dull thrums of city streets make him sleepy. You sit in front of him on a bench outside the church. He thought he was better at hiding it but he’s pretty sure if he sits down, he’ll fall asleep.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask once Berto arrives. “We can go back to the house if you want.”
There’s an unofficial official itinerary for today.
Anything before four is fair game. After that there is a welcome cocktail party at a fancy restaurant in the city one of the De Luca’s family friends own.
If Seungcheol doesn’t go home now then it’ll be a close call to nap and shower in time. Not that Sofie is exceptionally punctual about things like that but Seungcheol is.
“I don’t want you not to see stuff just because I’m tired.”
“Cheol, I’ve been here all week with Sofie and Han. I promise this was the only thing left on my list of stuff to do. Anything else would have been a bonus.”
“Only if you're sure.”
“We can always come back again. I’m pretty sure Sofie’s mom is decorating a room for me.”
Yeah, because most men are fine with their fiancée taking international trips with another man. Not that you’d listen or Johnny has the balls to say something about it. But Seungcheol knows the chances of coming back here together, like this, are slim to nonexistent.
“Alright. But you can’t bring it up in an argument.”
“I can and I will.” The corner of you mouth twitches as your head shakes before opening the back seat for him. “Now get in the car, old-timer.” 
Seungcheol falls asleep on your shoulder in a blink. Berto is quiet (or the open windows drown him out enough that Seungcheol can pretend) and the heat of your body next to his lulls his heart. It’s not a peaceful rest and his neck is killing him by the time Berto pulls into the driveway, but it’s nice.
Seungcheol beelines for the bathroom while you slip into the kitchen. Something about centerpieces or napkins or tablecloths; he isn’t really sure but Sofie’s mom says it's urgent so he goes upstairs alone, showers in record time, and dives under the covers.
His dreams are filled with blue and gold elephants, He wakes to the sound of your voice blended with the sound of water.
You’re singing. More so humming some off key melody that bounces off the shower tiles and echoes straight into his brain. It drags him in that liminal space between waking and dreaming where anything is possible. Maybe he’s still dreaming. Of you and him, back when you shared an apartment and things weren’t so complicated. When there weren’t secrets and omissions and he didn’t have to bite his tongue.
His eyes stay closed, refusing to budge until the last minute.
The shower turns off but the humming continues, louder now that you’re out of the bathroom and collecting your things.
You must think Seungcheol is still asleep because when his eyes slit open, only enough to decipher your hazy silhouette, you’re in nothing but a towel. A very very tiny towel that hides nothing but the necessary bits and even then only barely. 
He can’t wake up now. Not when you bend over to look in your suitcase for Seungcheol closed his eyes just in time. But it doesn’t stop his brain from latching on to every sound in the quiet of the room; the humming tickling across your lips, the wet thump! of your towel on the ground. Oh god, now you’re not even wearing a towel. 
Seungcheol won’t be that friend. He never has. Or has always tried not to be. But teenage hormones make a young boy’s brain untamable so it’d be a lie to say he’s never thought of you like that. But despite his feelings, Seungcheol has made sure they never became a factor in your friendship.
Even though there is a peace of his soul that will always belong to you.
So he pretends to be asleep, forcibly controlling his breathing while you shuffle around the room none the wiser to his rising predicament.
Finally, you disappear back into the bathroom to change and Seungcheol’s lungs stretch with air until they burn.
You look pretty. Objectively. You glow in the late afternoon sun pouring in from the window, a ditsy floral print dress of orange and cream that hugging your figure; delicate collar bones on display under the flimsy straps and the column of your neck bare save for the necklace you’ve worn everyday since your parents bought it for your sixteenth birthday.
“C’mon sleepy head,” you whisper.
Seungcheol is thrilled his gawking is easily disguised as jetlag.
He changes in the bathroom. Taking a moment to grip the sink, his reflection stares back in the mirror. It’s the exhaustion and dehydration making his brain muddle. Nothing to do with you or him.
It’s fine. Everything is perfectly fine.
The downstairs foyer is in complete chaos but Sofie commands the room like she always does from the top of the stairway.
“Alright, ladies and gentlemen. Are you ready?” She yells like a WWE announcer.
Cheers rise up from the gaggle of adults. Cousins, friends, parents, aunts and uncles. Most of them Seungcheol has never seen before and is pretty sure neither have Jeonghan or Sofie but it’s fine. The more the merrier.
Except when different cars end up filled to the brim and you end up sitting on Seungcheol’s lap instead of a seat.
His heart leaps with every bump, yo
ur hair flying into his face and leaving the sweet smell of perfume to flood his senses. Seungcheol can’t even think about that because Sofie’s Zia Linda puts her husband's driving to shame.
At some point you nearly fly out the open window–Why does no one believe in keeping the windows up?– and Seungcheol is forced to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you from ending up a part of the cobblestone road.
“Sorry,” you say. The squeeze at his arm tells him your thankful at least something is stopping you from becoming roadkill.
“It’s fine.”
If you notice his strained breath, you don’t say anything.
The rooftop restaurant is gigantic but with everyone it feels small and crowded. Below, all of Rome spreads out. Lights twinkle in the distance and the moon is heavy overhead, ready for a night of revelry. It’s a welcome party so things are casual, finger foods and drinks flow heavily while everyone mingles.
Sofie and Jeonghan laugh at their own table, holding court with family and friends that flood in and out with congratulations. They’re good at it. Jeonghan ventures on the more introverted side but Sofie could have a meaningful conversation with a pile of rocks. 
You're off at another table, talking with Soonyoung and Seungkwan, a second glass of wine in hand. Laughter rings out and he feels drawn to it like a siren call. It was foolish to worry that the scar from Johnny wouldn’t heal over eventually. All you two needed was time.
Seungcheol barely leaves your side during the party. You dance and drink and dance some more until you’re both left in a heap at the same table by the dance floor. Soonyoung and Seokmin provide ample distraction, taking to the floor to do…something Seungcheol hesitates to call dancing because it resembles a child's idea of a circus. 
Dancing, food, and wine leave him feeling loose and sleepy. You’re not much better, head on his shoulder and hand tangled with his across your knees.
“Cheol?”
“Yeah?”
“I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.”
His shirt is unbuttoned, sleeves rolled high. In the back of the car on the ride home, you trace the muscle of his forearms draped over your waist until it lulls him to sleep.
Back at the house, you, Sofie, Jeonghan, and Seungcheol throw out sleepy goodnights and I love you’s before retreating to your separate corners of the house. Jeonghan is technically staying in a room in the same wing as you two (Sofie’s house is big enough to have an east and west wing which still shocks him). Something about family tradition and bad luck for the wedding but Jeonghan follows his fiancée like a shadow to her room at the opposite end of the house without theatrics.
And then there’s just you two.
You lean on each other the entire walk up, like you need the other support or you’ll crumble to the floor and sleep there. Honestly, it’s not a bad idea. Seungcheol has slept in worse places.
The stairs present their own challenges. You go first, Seungcheol right behind in case you fall backwards which has happened enough times that it’s become a habit to walk this way when alcohol is involved. But it doesn’t solve the issue of you tripping up.
Which you do with an effortless lack of grace on the last step.
“Oh, shit!” you giggle.
Seungcheol laughs so hard his knees buckle and he flops on the floor next to you like a dying fish.
“Shhh!” you slur, finger pressed to his lips. “People are sleeping.”
But you're cackling now and he can’t breathe from the painful quaking laughter rooting in his belly. He’s on his back, and you prop up on your arm to loom over him. Twin smiles breaking your faces, eyes watering with drunken mirth.
You go silent first, tracing his features silently like they must be committed to memory. Seungcheol does the same. You’re exactly the same as the day you left. Except for the vacation glow from being here for the past week. He recognizes all the parts of you he’s known for a lifetime. The silver scar on your chin from learning to ride a bike and crashing into a tree. The color of your eyes. The blush of your mouth.
The finger pressed to his lips traces along the plump flesh, then his chin, then it circles the back of his head and you’re ducking down.
Alarms go off in Seungcheol’s head screaming: 
DANGER! DANGER! THIS IS NOT WHAT FRIENDS DO! DANGER!
“Wow, it’s late,” he laughs horsley as he rolls away and to his feet. 
You jump away, dazed for a second before laughing as well. “Yeah, let’s um…let’s go to bed.”
He can’t quite read your expression. Several  emotions swirl across your face but Seungcheol can barely look at you without feeling his face heat so he doesn’t linger. 
Seungcheol takes the bathroom after you finish, rushing through his night time routine in sober silence. 
You're drunk. That’s the only reason you’re trying to kiss him. Or he had something on his mouth and you can’t find the words to tell him. It was a mistake. A momentary lapse of judgment that didn’t mean anything.
It wasn’t even a fraction of an almost kiss. Your noses barely touched, it doesn’t count.
When he comes back into the room, you’re curled up on the bed in your pajamas asleep.
Seungcheol circles to the other side, slipping under the covers and getting comfortable. The room feels smaller after what just happened. But it wasn’t a big deal. Nothing happened. You both were drunk and missed each other. You never would have kissed him.
Despite the fact the first, and only, time you two kissed was in very similar circumstances.
Rolling over, you find him and cuddle into his chest. Seungcheol opens his arms for you on instinct. 
“Did you have fun today?” you ask into his collarbone. The vibration of your voice tickles but it’s dulled from Seungcheol’s heart thudding wildly.
“Yeah.”
His hand smooths the back of your hair, down your back. You readjust, throwing a leg over his own and pulling him in tight.
“Good,” you say around a yawn. “Me too.”
Seungcheol tamps down the piece of him that wants to indulge in this. Just holding you, pretending things outside the door don’t exist and it’s just you and him and no one else. 
But he can’t do that.
“You know,” he starts. “I’m happy for you no matter what, right? You and Johnny…I’m happy for you.”
Seungcheol waits for a response that will never come because you’re out cold, snoring against his chest.
Tumblr media
You’re still asleep when Seungcheol wakes around noon. Sometime in the night you shifted to the far side of the bed, taking the blanket with you. He doesn’t try to wake you, still confused at exactly what happened last night.
Seungcheol isn’t naive. He knows what women look like when they want to be kissed, when they're thinking about how his mouth will feel against theirs. Usually he revels in it; loves the flare to his ego, the chance to tease before giving in.
But to see the expression on your face sent him into a panic. He’s seen it once before, indulged in it, and it ruined his life for the better part of college. Lips parted, eyes glassy as you stared. All the telltale signs were there: the lift of your chin, hands twisted in his shirt, eyes drooped low.
And the worst part was you did all that despite having a fiance waiting back home none the wiser. Even if Seungcheol couldn’t stand Johnny, he’d never do that. Never allow you to do that. 
Even if he wanted nothing more than to feel your lips on his.
He heads as far away as he can. Turns out it’s down stairs for breakfast. Sofie is at the kitchen table, typing on her laptop.
“Morning,” Seungcheol croaks.
“You look like shit. Wild night?”
“Just some old timers thinking they’re twenty one again.”
“What assholes.” She laughs. “How's Y/N?”
Seungcheol freezes like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. Sofie couldn’t know what almost but certainly didn’t happen in the hallway last night. “She’ll probably need an exorcism but she’ll survive.”
“By the way, I meant to give her this last night but everything was crazy. Can you pass it off? Jeonghan and I have to take my grandma to lunch and she’s already called twice sooooo…”
“Yeah, go. Have fun.”
Sofie is up and out before he can blink, a tiny piece of cardstock left in her place.
Kira Long
Artisan Jeweler
Her social media and number are at the bottom but Seungcheol doesn’t need more information.
He hides around the villa most of the day. Catching up with the guys around the pool, feigning fatigue when you come out to join. The gardens are big enough for him to disappear into for a few hours before he needs to go and get ready.
Unfortunately, that also means you are getting ready. 
A leg.
That’s all Seungcheol sees when he opens the door.
Your leg specifically, propped on the dresser while you apply lotion in nothing but that damn skimpy towel designed to torture him.
“AH!” you shriek, shocked by his sudden entrance. 
“I’m sorry!” he shouts.
The fabric unravels around your chest and suddenly you're naked and Seungcheol is not looking. 
“What the fuck? Have you ever heard of knocking?”
He’s not.
“Why are you naked?”
The ceiling is very interesting. 
“Because I wanted to scare you.” you scream sarcastically. The door to the hallway is still open. Seungcheol either stays in with you or goes back out because it can’t stay open much longer. He makes the fatal mistake of locking himself inside with you. “Because I thought you’d knock, you fucker! Jesus fucking Christ, turn around.”
Seungcheol saw you naked. 
He hides in the bathroom like a wimp until it’s time to leave.
It’s a short walk to the church down the street for the rehearsal ceremony. It’s all a blur given the million and one things flying through his brain; most of them you. You in your towel. The fact you’re engaged. You looking at him like you’re dying to be kissed. The fact you’re engaged. How everyone has assumed you’re a couple this entire weekend and you’ve played along. The fact you are engaged to a man that isn’t him and Seungcheol can’t help but feel bitter about it for a completely different reason than he ever thought he would be. 
Luckily, the ceremony is only planned to last less than an hour. He knows he isn’t subtle but he tries to grin and bear it for his friends. He can see the same sentiment in you. Your smile doesn’t quite fit but Seungcheol can’t think about what it could be about. 
“Do you take this man…”
Was it his rejection? It wouldn’t make sense if it was. You’re his best friend but not even that dictates cheating. You weren’t the type; in your own words cheating was more pathetic than ghosting someone as a form of break up. 
He doesn’t get it.
“I always love you even though you sleep like a princess, my love,” Sofie gushes.
“And I’ll forgive you for snoring like an old man, love of my life.” Jeonghan fires back.
They’re saving their real vows, the one Seungcheol helped Jeonghan with, for the ceremony. Even with all the confusion swirling in his head, he can’t wait for Sofie to hear what Jeonghan has in store.
The priest is less than impressed but moves forward like he can’t wait to have them out of his congregation as fast as possible.
“Okay, and you two leave and the wedding party follows…”
Seungcheol offers his arm to the Maid of Honor, Maria, guiding her back down the aisle where Jeonghan and Sofie bicker. You follow with Seokmin, break away the second it's polite with some excuse about needing the bathroom before you dissolve into the crowd.
The dinner is back at the house. The outside is lined with chairs crowded around tables covered in exploding bouquets and candles. Family members and friends weave to and fro, drinks and food flowing heavily.
You’re talking to Seokmin in the corner of the courtyard, a glass of wine already in your hand as you laugh along to whatever the other man said. 
“So Sofie said you’re a lawyer?” Maria asks. 
“Yeah, that’s how we became friends. I actually was the one who introduced her and Jeonghan.”
“Wow, so you’re a lawyer and a matchmaker.” 
Seungcheol laughs at the compliment. Introducing Sofie and Jeonghan had been a complete accident with unintended consequences. “I wouldn’t say that. I thought Sofie would strangle him the first time they met.”
“Oh, I heard all about that. When Sofie told me they started dating I thought she must’ve meant a different Jeonghan.”
Maria makes good company through the first rounds of drinks before dinner is served. She takes his focus away from you, how your leg presses against his under the table. She grew up down the road, went to school with Sofie all the way through undergrad. Her boyfriend, Jihoon, is a surgeon back in Seattle while she works in marketing. Unfortunately getting time off for a second year resident verges on impossible so he couldn’t come to the wedding.
“You two are so cute together, how long have you been dating?” Maria asks before taking a swig of her drink.
“Oh we’re not together,” Seungcheol corrects swiftly.
You give a tense nod of agreement. 
“Really?”
“Yep. We grew up together. She’s like my sister.” 
He sounds like an asshole. The words are bile but there can be no room for incorrect interpretations. This weekend had been nothing but confusing so far. Seungcheol needs to set himself straight on where he stands with you.
“Oh,” Maria nods. “Okay. So Y/N, are you dating anyone?”
“Actually I—”
Your response fizzles out because Jeonghan’s dad rises from his seat for a speech.
“I want to take a moment to express my deepest appreciation to everyone here this weekend to celebrate Sofie and Jeonghan. I remember the first time he told us about her, how happy he was and thought ‘oh this poor girl doesn’t know what she’s gotten herself into’.” There’s a smatter of laughter throughout the room. Sofie leans into Jeonghan’s shoulder and he places a kiss on her temple. “But then I met Sofie and I can say, without a doubt, there are very few people more perfect for each other than those two. Sofie, welcome to our family.”
Dinner passes, course after course and more wine until Seungcheol physically can’t have any more. You and Maria hit it off, rambling about Jihoon’s two cats and the abandoned kitten that hangs out around his work he’s trying to bribe into coming home. You barely look at him during the conversation but he prefers it.
Dessert comes with coffee and then everyone dissolves. Some stay around the tables to chat and drink and laugh, others help clean up. But Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and the groom's party head for the back gardens, Seungkwan already queueing up the song for one last practice.
It’s tradition, in southern Italy at least, for the groom to serenade his bride-to-be the night before their wedding. Seungcheol couldn’t believe Jeonghan was planning to go through with such tradition but he’s seen the man do more for Sofie than he thought he was capable of so it shouldn’t come as a shock.
The warm summer air does good for his mood, as does laughing with the guys when Soonyoung and Seungkwan get into a wrestling match after debating if they step-shuffle for three or four counts. But they all agree with four because it’s easier to remember.
The top floor balcony at the front of the house turns out to be Sofie’s room. The light floods out of the open doors, and two sets of giggles pour down to where they stand.
Jeonghan cups his hands around his mouth and calls, “Juliet, Juliet! Let down your hair!” 
“That’s not the saying.” Seungcheol corrects. 
“Shut up, I’m talking to my wife.”
“That’s not the saying!” Sofie laughs from above. 
You and Sofie peek over the side of the iron terrace, grins already splitting your faces. You knew what was happening. It’s why you whisked Sofie away with whatever distraction you could think of while the men gathered outside for a quick last minute dry run. Something about broken heels and needing to borrow a pair of shoes.
“Sofie Cosima De Luca, you are the love of my life.” Jeonghan yells. He’s drunk on love (and a lot of champagne). “I can’t wait to marry you tomorrow. I just hope after this you still want to marry me. Hit it!”
The obscenely large speaker Seungcheol carried out starts humming the instrumental to Sofie and Jeonghan’s song. The very one Jeonghan drunkenly serenaded her with in a dingy bar, back when she didn’t believe he could handle a serious relationship and he was hopelessly wrapped around her finger.
“I’ve got sunshineeeeeeee on a cloudy day…” Jeonghan croons.
“Oh my god,” Sofie cackles.
Everyone else joins in, harmonizing in the back along with the choreo Seungkwan and Soonyoung came up with. A simple side step with occasional jazz hands (much to Soonyoung’s tipsy dismay). “I guess you’d say what can make me feel this way?” 
“MY GIRL,” Jeonghan belts his line, smiling dumbly.
You’re watching the shenanigans unfold, smiling as well. But while you're looking at everyone else, the only person Seungcheol can look at is you; the way your eyes gleam in the moonlight, your chin tipping back to laugh when Jeonghan’s voice cracks. You’re breathtaking. For a brief moment, barely a passing thought in the roaring river of his brain focused on his cue to sing and side step when needed, Seungcheol imagines what it would be like if you two were the only ones around.
Chalking it up to the moment, Seungcheol thinks about anything else as they finish the performance.
The music dwindles away and all that's left is Jeonghan staring up at his future wife as the rest of the group takes exaggerated bows. Other guest peek from windows or the edge of the drive way, cheering loudly.
“Bravi! Bravissimi!” Sofie cries as you both clap. “Can I make a request?”
Jeonghan nods like an eager puppy in response.
“Sing the Thong Song!” you both request through giggles.
“That's for after the wedding.” Jeonghan winks.
Time for Seungcheol to do his best man duties and prevent Jeonghan from making a complete ass of himself. "Alright Casanova, let’s go.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow!” Jeonghan calls over his shoulder, fighting against everyone ushering him away.
“Don’t be late!” Sofie demands.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 
After returning Jeonghan to his room for the night, Seungcheol heads back to his completely unprepared to see you again. Too many feelings swirl in his head. Feelings he thought he finally left back in college.
He remembers only a few key events of his early childhood. When he lost his first tooth, when he broke his arm for the first time, and his soccer game at four years old when Jeonghan and he rubbed dirt in each other's faces and rolled in the grass instead of playing. But other than that, his life has been distinctly divided into two parts: before you, and after you. He remembers when you marched into the first day of second grade with a sparkly blue bookbag much too big for your little body. You went to the front of the class, introduced yourself loud and proud, and then looked around the room like you were daring anyone to say something back. 
And like any other childhood friendship is made, you sat at Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s table and asked if they wanted to be your friend. Without even considering the options, they both agreed. From then on out you’d always been Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and YN. Friends in elementary school, all through middle school, and even into the far reaches of highschool when Seungcheol played sports all year while you and Jeonghan did theater. It never occurred to any of you to be apart. Until Jeonghan stayed home to attend university in your hometown. And then it was Seungcheol and YN. Jeonghan came to visit when he could and vice versa. But at university it was you two against the world.
The first time Seungcheol realized he liked you was in third grade after you dumped chocolate milk on Jeonghan’s head because he put a bug in your lunchbox. He married you on the playground and made mud pies to celebrate. And then in high school when Seungcheol realized you weren’t just a girl but a pretty girl and the hormones of his teenage body latched onto that fact and plagued his dreams with the information. 
And he never did anything about that crush because he knew it wasn’t worth losing you to act on those silly notions. They passed just like he thought, melted away as time went on and you both dated other people. 
But that night freshman year of college…
It doesn’t matter. 
Because you have a fiancé and Seungcheol is happy for you.
The sound of running water echoes from the bathroom as Seungcheol enters your shared room. At least it delays the inevitable awkwardness. 
Or he thought it would.
“Hey, Cheol?” you call from the door.
“Yeah?”
“I forgot my clothes. Can you bring them to me?”
“Ugh, yeah.” Seungcheol scrambles for the pile of clean pajamas at the corner of the bed, snatching them up and stepping closer to the door that separates you. “Here.”
Mind caught on other things – like not remember that he caught a glimpse of you make last night, barely a second, no real detail except creamy skin and details his brained filled in on its own accord to his own chagrin – Seungcheol trips over his own feet and slams into the piece of wood head first.
The only thing stopping the door from flying straight into the wall is you.
“Shit!” you exclaim following a ricocheting ‘thump.’ “What the fuck, Cheol?”
Clutching his forehead, Seungcheol is oblivious to the tangle of limbs you’ve both collapsed into. 
“Fuck, sorry.” He blinks against the stark brightness of the overhead light. You’re clutching at your face, hands cupped around your nose and eyes filled with tears. “Here let me see.”
Your eyes crack open enough to glare at him, narrow and rimmed red. As if he didn’t feel awful enough.
Without a second thought, he strokes across the curve of your knee soothingly. “I won’t touch it, I just wanna make sure it isn’t broken.”
A hand shakenly falls away to unveil your perfectly fine nose. Seungcheol tips your chin up, moving in for a closer look just in case. But everything is fine. You’re not even bleeding, just a runny nose that definitely hurts worse than it looks. 
The initial rush of panic ebbs only to be replaced with awareness. Seungcheol is kneeling between your legs, your towel is definitely too short, and the beads of water caught on your collarbone are down right taunting him. He needs to get away.
Now.
“Oh my god,” he gasps, moving back.
Your face morphs into horror at his tone. “What?”
“You’ve got a huge bat in the cave.” Seungcheol rises to his feet, offering you a hand up while ignoring the way your chest struggles against the tie of the towel as you come to your feet as well.
“Fuck you,” you laugh, pushing him away. “Give me my clothes and get the fuck out.”
Seungcheol does just that. As the lock latches back he’s left alone with nothing but thoughts of you.
He remembers. That night you two have never spoken about. And probably would never discuss even under the threat of life and limb. A drunk kiss, in the stuffy bar that didn’t care if your IDs were fake as long as you had money.
Seungcheol remembers the way you felt in his lap, the taste of your mouth, the breathy whine against his lips when he first pulled away from the kiss. Maybe that last detail was a hallucination but it felt real. The heat of your body haunted Seungcheol for the week after it happened. 
Not even Jeonghan knew about it. 
And he’d rather die than open that can of worms. The first time Seungcheol had a crush on you in high school, he swallowed those feelings and never let them see the light of day. Because you’re his best friend, his longest friend, and if it was between the risk of losing you from his feelings (that he was certain would fade eventually despite the fact they never have) or keeping you in his life, then he’d stay silent if it killed him.
Tumblr media
It’s your turn to disappear the next morning. You’re side of the bed is long cooled by the time Seungcheol’s alarm goes off, a piece of him gone with it. 
His dreams hadn’t helped. A faceless woman, not even sounds or sights or tangible things he could identify. But he knows the feeling. That alluring warmth of a body firm against his own, the kind that leaves him aching when he wants up. Seungcheol knows it's you. It’s the same images that have plagued his subconscious since adolescence when he’d wake up to messy boxers and the inability to look you in the face for days after.
Feelings he’s long suppressed came out last night. Seeing you in the window, in the bathroom, it’s all too much. And now it chases him into sleep; the one place he thought he might have peace.
Luckily your absence means there's no awkward explanation of why he’s hard. The trip to the bathroom is more of dejected desperation than eager need. Seungcheol hops into the shower and takes care of it, careful to keep his thought as abstract as possible or risk you popping up in his fantasy. Dreaming about you is damning enough. He doesn’t need to add to the guilt weighing on his conscience.
The rhythm of the water lulls his brain into a cycle. He can’t do this. He can’t go another minute 
He can’t even survive Jeonghan’s wedding. How he will sit through yours with a grin will be a true test of his acting ability.
But that is future Seungcheol’s problem. Right now he needs to get through today and then tomorrow and after that he’ll be on a plane back home where he can ruminate in the isolated confines of his apartment. 
He just needs to focus on one thing at a time. 
Right now, it’s getting downstairs in the next ten minutes or risk losing tee time with Jeonghan and the other groomsmen. 
There’s only two people he’d ever turn to in a time like this, except he can’t talk to either of them because one is the problem and the other is getting married in a few hours. The last thing Jeonghan needs is to hear about an issue between his two best friends.
Which is why he’s the first to pick up Seungcheol’s mood. 
“You look like shit,” Jeonghan greets. 
The other mill about the kitchen, snagging leftover pastries and fruit. Usually Seungcheol is the first to show up, not the last. But Soonyoung still seems to be missing.
“Thanks.” 
“Rough night?”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“Well if you’re tired you can always join the girls at the spa.” Jeonghan offers. “Sofie said they’re doing mud baths.”
The wedding isn’t until this afternoon leaving the entire morning free. So the boys play golf while the girls go soak in mud.
“That sounds…horrible.”
“I know,” Jeonghan nods. “Alright gentlemen, let's head out.”
Seungcheol eats shit the entire morning. He usually scores around seventy five but he’s destined to break well over a hundred today and even Jeonghan pretends he doesn’t notice. 
“Do you ever think about why nothing happened between you and Y/N?” Jeonghan asks right as Seungcheol prepares to swing.
Kicking a man when he’s down is more of a guideline for his best friend rather than something to avoid.
Seungcheol’s shot flies wide, straight into a fairway bunker a good thirty yards behind everyone else’s ball. He watches for another solid minute, deflating.  “No.” 
“If you’re gonna lie, at least make it believable.” Jeonghan chides, setting up his own tee.
“I’m not lying.”
“Humor me. It’s my wedding day and I’m trying not to freak out.” 
“You’re freaked out?” 
“Dude, of course I’m freaked out. We’ve never gone more than a few hours without talking since we started dating and I haven’t seen her since last night. So just let me focus on something else,” Jeonghan sighs.
Seungcheol thinks about his next words wisely. Jeonghan can smell bullshit a thousand miles away, and playing mind games right now feels a little unfair. “I don’t wonder why nothing happened anymore.” 
“Lying again but whatever.”  Jeonghan grabs for his drive and lines up the shot.
“Why are you asking?” 
“I don’t know. Everyone thought you two would end up together eventually and then you didn’t. I’ve got a lot of people asking and I wanted an official response because you’re not exactly subtle and she isn’t stupid.”
Jeonghan’s shot lands square on the first cut, fifty yards ahead of Seungcheol’s ball. 
“Yeah, well.” Seungcheol huffs. “If she noticed, she never said anything.”
“Okay but did you ever say anything?” 
Jeonghan hands his club over to his catty before they start towards their respective zones. Seungcheol and his friend trailing behind.
Seungcheol argues. “You just said I wasn’t subtle?”
“You aren’t,” Jeonghan snorts. “But Y/N is about as impressionable as rock.”
“Did you think something was gonna happen?”
Seungcheol reaches his ball first. All the other guys are further ahead but Jeonghan sticks by.
“No.” Jeonghan says. “But I know you kissed her.”
Seungcheol turns to the other man, mouth gaped in shock. “How the fuck did you know that? Did she tell you?”
“I KNEW IT.” Jeonghan points at him like a little kid tattling on his friend. “ I fucking knew it! Sofie owes me fifty bucks.”
“What?”
“Y/N is a better liar than you, I’ll give her that but I knew something was off that first week I came to visit. I knew you didn’t have the balls to sleep with her so I must have been something else.”
Jeonghan asked you if you remember the kiss. Jeonghan and Sofie know you kissed. You remember the kiss. But you never said anything. If that doesn’t solidify Seungcheol firmly in the friendzone then nothing else would.
“You made a bet with your fiancée on whether your best friends kissed or not?” Seungcheol shakes his head in disbelief.
“You’ll understand when you have a successful relationship.” Jeonghan touts.
The catty hands over Seungcheol’s driver. He looks about Seungcheol’s age, maybe younger, and by the look on his face he’s trying very hard to pretend he isn’t listening to the unfolding drama. 
Another person to witness how hopeless he is. Great.
“It doesn’t matter. It was a mistake.”
“You never know,”  Jeonghan shrugs, following his catty further up the fairway and ending the conversation.
Back at the house, you’re nowhere to be seen while Seungcheol showers and changes. It’s for the best. No sleep, a horrible golf game, and now all the feelings that returned over the weekend have left him with nothing but a foul mood. 
Every step is dragged out so he doesn’t have to pretend you two are fine. He can’t afford another blow out right now because today is meant to be for Jeonghan and Sofie. Even if Jeonghan thought he should talk about it, Seungcheol couldn’t do it anymore. He wouldn’t do it anymore. But the time it takes leaves his head spinning out of control.
You’re pretending nothing is wrong. Cuddling up to him, calling him your husband. You nearly kissed him. You would’ve if he didn’t stop you. You always said cheating was worse than heartbreak but now here you are, capitalizing on his feelings for whatever satisfaction you selfishly crave; using Seungcheol to hurt your fiancé in secret. Who you seem dedicated to pretending doesn’t exist. 
It’s a nasty cycle. Feeling used, disbelief of who you’ve turned into in months away, that piece of him that always craved something more with you flowering only to wilt because it’s not real. 
You don’t want Seungcheol.
You never have.
The wedding party gathers outside the church. Sofie is tucked away in a private room until her grand entrance. She wanted everyone to be surprised, leaving her bridesmaids to mingle with the groomsmen until it was time to for the ceremony to start.
The lavender bridesmaid dress is nothing special. A tie at the top keeps the entire thing up, the front void of any details. The open back adds a flash of skin but other than that there isn’t much to it. But you’re wearing it and Seungcheol can feel his heart jerk as the fabric flows around your curves. The universe is taunting him with what he’ll never have.
He doesn’t stare despite the fact that every time he blinks his gaze automatically searches for you. It’s hard to ignore the only person he sees in a crowded room. Even if he’s pissed at you.
You excuse yourself from Seokmin, creeping over to where Seungcheol stands with a grin. “You clean up nice.”
“Thanks,” he nods.
“Is something wrong?’ 
A shot of annoyance flashes through him. Now is not the place. Last time he felt like this, you two got in a screaming match on a snowy sidewalk. “No.”
You shake your head, hand coming to rest on his arm in an act of comfort. “Are you sure? Because you’ve been acting weird.”
Betrayed by his own body. Half of him wants to get on the next flight home and block your number so he can forget all of this. It wouldn’t work. The times tried anything remotely of the sort only leave him in circling thoughts day and night.
The other half of him wants to wrap you in his arms and take whatever you're willing to give him. The half that could act like Johnny didn’t exist, at least not in this little bubble where nothing else exists but you and him. Because he's selfish and he’s been in love with you for years and he would never expect something in return for his feelings but he can’t take it any more.
But he can’t pretend anymore.
Pretending he’s never been jealous of your boyfriends, and that the night in college when you kissed meant nothing. That it didn’t flood his brain everytime he looked at you; that it didn’t leave more questions than answers. He’s been pretending everything has been fine, that seeing you asleep on his chest doesn’t make his heart hurt, and that he was stronger than the temptation to kiss you last night.
He remembers that night with clarity despite how drunk he was. Thought it meant you felt the same way he had for years.
“Cheers to finally being adults!” you scream, tequila shot raised over head.
Seungcheol laughs. Nothing is that funny but he’s nineteen and drunk in a dingy college bar with his best friend . “Adults!”
Someone passes by and knocks you forward, straight into Seungcheol's chest where you keep laughing as you look up at him.
You’re close. Closer than ever before. He could count all your eyelashes if there weren’t four of you floating in his vision. But Seungcheol doesn’t need to see clearly. Not when you’re already kissing him.
He’s kissing you.
It’s sloppy and drunk but his brain doesn’t think in big picture. It’s all feeling. Your hand in his shirt, a sweet sigh against his chin when you break away for a second just to come right back. Your mouth tastes like alcohol and lime and he’s never had anything better sweep across his tongue.
Thank god for the booth because you’re in his lap now, grinding against the seam of his jeans until he’s hard and when you finally realize you say his name.
And then Seungcheol pulls away, turns his head, and vomits before blacking out.
He hates that he thinks about it. He thinks about it all the time. What if? But there’s no more what ifs. There's only right now. Just you and him and the widening space in between that's become unnavigable. 
“I’m acting weird? I’m not the one rubbing herself all over me, calling me her husband to strangers, and trying to kiss me.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I can’t believe you would do something like this. Why would you put me in this position? Do you think it’s funny?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m happy for you, really. I just think it’s best if we don’t talk for a while. I think you need to sort things out with your fiance.”
Now that seems to get your attention. “Seungcheol, what—”
The music swells from the organ inside, cueing the ceremony and effectively silencing your questions. 
Good. It’s better that way. Seungcheol is weak for you in all the ways that matter and he knows if he had to stand there for another minute then your hurt expression is all it would take for him to fold and pretend he never said anything.
You join the other bridesmaids and Seungcheol ducks inside the church after the wedding planner opens the doors. One by one the other groomsmen walk in: Joshua, Seungkwan, Soonyoung, and finally Seokmin. Each line up further down Jeonghan’s side. Then the bridesmaids follow. 
Sofie’s cousin, who Seungcheol met once, glides down the aisle followed by another taller cousin who looks nearly identical. Then it’s Sofie’s roommate from college, Mona who Josh had been trying to get with all weekend.
You walk up the aisle, a smile plastered on your face but it doesn’t reach your eyes. You won’t look in his direction. 
Everything is slipping through his fingers and you both have to pretend they aren’t.
Everyone turns to watch Maria, and then Sofie. But the only person Seungcheol is paying attention to is you. 
The ceremony flies by. Sofie cries, Jeonghan cries. 
Sofie cries even harder when Jeonghan recites his vows in Italian. It’s odd, watching his two friends who usually are the couple laughing in the corner, be so vulnerable. Declaring their love for each other in front of a few hundred people.
“Sofie, sin dal primo momento in cui ti ho incontrata, sapevo che ti avrei voluta nella mia vita per sempre. Che tu mi amassi o odiassi, per me andava bene, perché significava che avresti pensato a me tanto quanto io pensavo a te. Mi hai dato il privilegio di chiamarti mia, e non posso aspettare di farlo per il resto delle nostre vite.”
Six months of using Seungcheol as practice, along with Sofie’s cousin, and he sounds decent. Jeonghan wouldn’t win any awards for his language skills but everyone’s faces melt around the room. Even the people that don’t know a word of what he’s say can feel the earnest dedication he has to Sofie. Even Seungcheol gets misty eyed.
“Io, Jeonghan, prendo te, Sofie, come mia sposa e prometto di esserti fedele sempre, nella gioia e nel dolore, nella salute e nella malattia, e di amarti e onorarti tutti i giorni della mia vita.”
“I, Sofie, take you, Jeonghan, as my husband and promise to be faithful to you always, in joy and in pain, in health and in sickness, and to love you and every day honor you, for the rest of my life.”
Then they kiss and Sofie screams something along the lines of “we’re married, bitches!” much to the priest demise before exiting the church. 
From there it’s chaos. 
The entire wedding party is corralled for endless pictures while everyone else heads back to the villa for the reception. You don’t look at him and Seungcheol refuses to acknowledge you until your parents are forcing you two together for awkward pictures like its high school prom.
By the time it’s over and he gets to the reception, the party is in full swing and the sun is setting.
Dinner is a blur. He makes his toast, short and sweet like Jeonghan told him to. The night progresses and people flood the cleared area serving as a makeshift dance floor in the center of the courtyard.
Seungcheol sips his wine. Three glasses in an hour because he isn’t sure what to do with his hands when his obligatory dance with Maria is over and he’s avoided being dragged on the floor by one of Sofie’s more zealous aunts because she herself demands a dance.
“How does it feel to be Mrs. Yoon?”
Sofie turns to watch Jeonghan twirls her great grandmother. Or more like Nonna Cosima leads him. She’s surprisingly spry for someone pushing triple digits. “I think he’s gonna be a great first husband.”
His gaze settles on you, Seokmin leading you across the floor in a ridiculous fashion. The younger man is trying hard to make you laugh and it seems to be working.
“She thinks you’re mad at her,” Sofie says.
“Maybe I am.”
“Care to share with the class?” She prods but Seungcheol doesn’t break, using the ending of the song to find a table at the edge of the makeshift dance floor. “Fine, but I feel like if you’re gonna pout at my wedding I should at least know why. Especially because I owe Han fifty bucks because you can’t lie to save your life.”
Seungcheol is mad. But mostly at himself. For tricking himself into thinking maybe, just maybe, there could be something more. That in all the improbable universes you returned his feelings, this would be one. 
And he did all that knowing you’re dedicated to someone else who is so entirely wrong for you.
“What did she tell you?” Seungcheol asks. 
“That’s not how this works. No pay, no play.”
He studies Sofie for a minute. She’s good at keeping her cards close but she knows about you and Johnny. It wouldn’t be a far leep to assume she knows about everything else.
“God, you sound like Jeonghan.”
“Have you and Y/N talked? Like, really talked, since you got here?” There's a weight at the end of that sentence but Sofie doesn’t elaborate. 
“Care to be more specific?” he asks, grabbing for another glass.
“I’ll take that as a no then.” Sofie takes the seat beside him.
His chest tightens. This is it. 
“About her and Johnny?”
“So she did say something…” Sofie fishes.
“No she didn’t. But I heard you guys in the kitchen the night I got in.”
“You did?” she gasps. “And you didn’t say anything to her about it?”
His jaw ticks in annoyance. “What’s there to say? ‘Congrats on your engagement, you’re too good for him’? I don’t think that's what she’d wa—”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Sofie throws her hands up, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. All around the party continues. “You think Y/N is engaged? To who?”
“Johnny! Who else?”
Her drink sloshes over the sides of her wine glass, narrowly missing the white gown and falling to the cobblestone. “Oh my god, you’re an idiot!”
“Excuse me?”
“She’s not engaged, you dipshit,” she goes on. “Oh my god, you’re both so stupid. I told Han, I told him we should’ve said something.”
“What?” he says quietly.
Sofie continues as if Seungcheol hasn’t spoken at all, “I can’t believe she hasn’t told you.”
“Told me what?”
“She broke up with him!”
She broke up with him. She (you) broke up with him (Johnny). You and Johnny are done. It’s like he’s hearing the news from underwater.
“She broke up with him.” He repeats dumbly.
Someone cheers and then applause follows but Seungcheol is lost in his mind. You and Johnny aren’t engaged. You two aren’t even dating. Haven’t been. 
“When?”
Sofie’s face softens. She knows. The first time he introduced you to Sofie she assumed you two were dating. She didn’t like Johnny for a lot of the same reasons Seungcheol did, but also because she thought you two were meant to be together. “A week after she moved.”
That phone call the week after you moved. It must’ve been something to do with you and Johnny. But why didn’t you answer messages the next morning? Why would you break up with Johnny and then refuse to tell him? Why would you let Seungcheol think he was being used as the other man?
“So this entire week…”
“She was supposed to tell you. I told her to tell you months ago but does she listen to me? Nope.”
“Do you know why?”
“Now that is something she needs to tell you.” Seungcheol looks where you're dancing with Seokmin. Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes but you laugh when the man dips you almost to the floor and struggles to lift you back up. “But first you need to apologize.”
“Is it that bad?”
“When I imagined someone crying at my wedding it wasn’t because of you.”
Seungcheol winces, “She cried?”
“Yep. You owe me a nice ass wedding gift for that one.”
“Sofie, I’m sorry I—” he tries to apologize. 
“Cheol, don’t worry about it.” She pats his arm. “It was actually a nice distraction from the insanity this week.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“It really is.” Sofie rises from the table, snagging a glass of champagne from a passing tray. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my husband owes me a dance. And Cheol?”
“Yeah?”
“You should tell her how you feel.”
Seungcheol takes his chance at Sofie’s departure. With the change in music Seokmin bows out and you're left on the dance floor alone. Cast in the soft glow of garden lights and candles, you’re tragically beautiful. Soft around the edges in a dreamy haze. Seungcheol feels like he’s intruding by approaching you but he needs to apologize before you both return to your separate corners of the country tomorrow night.
“Hey,” he greets.
You look at him apprehensively, eyes dark, before speaking. “Hi.”
You’re just as petty as Seungcheol so he knows if you’re speaking to him then there's some kind of hope he hasn’t completely ruined your friendship. But it could also mean you’re about to rip him a new one in front of everyone for not the first time in his life.
Hopefully, it’s the former.
“Mind a walk?”
“We’re at a wedding.”
Jeonghan and Sofie curl tightly around each other at the center of the courtyard. It’s clear from the way both their faces soften, lax grins reaching their ears, that the world has stopped spinning just for them.
“I’m pretty sure we could light them on fire right now and they wouldn’t notice. Besides, Sofie gave me her blessing,” he jokes but you don’t laugh.
“Fine,” you say before stalking towards one of the paths leading to more secluded parts of the house.
People drape across different parts of the villa as you two walk in silence to find some privacy. The gardens are full of chatting elders, kids running around in the dark or falling asleep in some adults' holds. After ten minutes with no luck at seclusion, Seungcheol has half a mind to go back to your room and talk it out but he doesn’t. The idea itself freezes his blood.
It’s not until you're deeper into the maze of shrubs and bushes that the voices and music fade. The silence is so tense he might shatter under the pressure.
You whip around to face him, still five paces ahead. 
“What did you want to talk about?” you deadpan.
Seungcheol thought through every thing he wanted to say, all the questions and whys and what ifs he’d collected during this trip but they abandoned him now that they have the chance to be answered. Instead, all that comes out of him is a shaky,  “I’m sorry.”
You wait for him to elaborate but he doesn’t. He’s apologizing for more than he could put in words and he’d list them off until the sun comes up if he starts now.
“Okay. Is that all?” you ask.
“Sofie told me about Johnny.”
You blanche. “She did?”
“Yeah, she did.”
“What did she tell you?” your arms draw tightly around your center. Like you’re holding your heart from spilling out your chest. 
Seungcheol regurgitates the limited facts Sofie shared, which is that Johnny hasn’t been in the picture for months and you never deemed him worthy of that information.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I tried. But you didn’t answer your phone and I felt so stupid afterwards and… I just couldn’t do it.”
It hits a nerve deep in his heart. How could it have been easier to spend months pretending he didn’t exist then tell him your relationship ended? More anger slips through. The nasty kind that makes him say things he doesn’t mean but Seungcheol tries to reign it in.
“So you just ignored me and thought that’d solve all our problems?” 
“No!’
“Then why didn’t you say something?”
“Because I moved cities for a guy I didn’t even like that much! I changed my entire life for him just to prove a point. Because you were right about him and I was wrong and only took a fucking week to realize that after I screwed everything up. I should have listened to you but—”
“So you lied to me because you didn't want me to say ‘I told you so’?” Seungcheol fumes. “Are you serious?”
“I didn’t lie to you!” you object.
“Yes you did! You stopped talking to me for months! Months. I can’t even remember we went a week without talking but you dropped off the face of the planet,” he rants. “I thought you were happy in New York with Johnny but apparently I’m the last to know anything. If you had just told me I wouldn’t have said anything. I would have gone up there and moved you back home myself.”
“I don’t want you to fix my mistakes!”
“Then what do you want? Because from where I’m standing I have no idea. All week you’ve been acting weird and because you didn’t tell me I thought you were using me to cheat on your boyfriend. How do you think that makes me feel?”
“I didn’t mean to. Things just kept happening and I got swept up before I could tell you.”
Seungcheol was nothing more than a meaningless distraction, a rebound.
“So it didn’t mean anything to you?” he asks.
“No!” you cry. “I was just distracted.”
“Distracted? Are you serious?”
“You know what? Forget it. You don’t want to listen to me, you just want to be mad and yell.”
You’re right. Seungcheol does want to be mad and yell and pull his own hair out because what you’re saying isn’t helping untangle the knotted mess of his brain. It’s making it worse. Your confessions are watering that seed of hope in his chest despite the fact he knows nothing will ever happen. Even with Johnny out of the picture.
“Why did you break up with Johnny?”
“I—” Your eyes close. Pulled tight like you’re finding the courage to tell Seungcheol some dark secret. “He…” you swallow. “I broke up with him because…”
Seungcheol tenses, prepared for the absolute worst. You moved your entire life for the guy and broke up with him a handful of days later. There had to be a reason. “Because why? Did he do something?”
“No!” you correct. “I wish he did, I probably wouldn’t have felt like such a bitch but he didn’t do anything at all. I just realized we didn’t work.”
“You didn’t ‘work’?”
I told you so, indeed.
“Yeah. It’s kinda difficult to be with someone when you're in love with someone else,” you reply.
Suddenly, Seungcheol wishes he never brought it up. Another guy. One that isn’t him. Again. He’s the other man. Those gut feelings, the nagging voice at the back of his head that reminded him time and time again you couldn’t feel the same has its own ‘I told you so’ moment.
But that’s not what makes him feel horrible. He’d suffer from overthinking as long as needed just so you wouldn’t look so ashamed. 
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Seugncheol waits for you to elaborate. More silence except for the crunch of your shoes across the stone walkway. A bench comes into view and you slip into one of the spots before speaking again.
“I…I always wondered why those dates never worked out. Like, I would like someone but then they didn’t want the same things or they’d want the same things but I didn’t want them. And I guess Johnny was my last ditch effort because maybe if I knew from the beginning things weren’t gonna work out then I’d never be disappointed.”
Seungcheol isn’t sure what to say so he stays quiet.
“And I thought I could just live with it. Knowing I didn’t have what Jeonghan and Sofie have. Like who actually gets that in their life? But…”
“But?”
“But then I realized that there was only one guy my whole life that’s actually been everything I wanted and I was comparing everyone to him.”
“Who?”
“You.”
Him. You’ve compared every guy you’ve dated to him. He’s the person you want, the man you’ve measured everyone up to and found them wanting.
You’re in love with Seungcheol. You broke up with your boyfriend for Seungcheol.
You love him back.
“It’s fine, if you don’t feel that way about me. I’m okay with it. I wasn’t planning to tell you because I expected anything. I just… part of the reason I didn’t say anything is I know you don’t think about me like that but this week I thought— I don’t know what I thought. But I didn’t want to lie to you anymore.”
“You…what?”
“Let’s just agree to pretend this never happened, okay? We should get back to the party.” You move to rush past him but Seungcheol hooks an arm around your torso, light enough you could break through if you really wanted to but you stop all the same.
There is no way in hell you drop that bomb on him and leave him to deal with the aftermath alone.
His voice is unrecognizable to his own ears. “You broke up with Johnny because of me?”
“Yeah,” you swallow. You refuse to look at him, focusing on the neatly clipped grass your heels sink into.
“Because you’re in love with me.” 
You flounder. It isn’t a question. It’s a fact.
“How long?” Seungcheol presses.
“What?”
“How long have you been in love with me?”
“It's always been you.”
Seungcheol’s heart detonates into a million pieces.
“You?” His pulse is sprinting. You’re in love with him. Have been. Maybe as long as he’s been in love with. Impossible for it to be longer because there's no moment in time when Seungcheol didn’t carry his feelings for you like an old friend. “You didn’t say anything.”
Your eyes are wet again, more tears he wants to brush away but he can’t do anything but stare. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”
“You wouldn’t have,” he whispers back.
“What's supposed to mean?”
Your nose brushes along his, eyes soft as you glance at his mouth. 
Seungcheol won’t let himself kiss you yet. He can’t. The first time he feels your lips on his in years has to be in private because he shakes at the idea of it, a part of him chips away from just imagining even the most chaste brush. But mostly because he’s terrified that once he starts, he knows he won’t be able to stop.
“Do you remember that night in college?” he asks. You’re stunned speechless by the abrupt shift in topic but the words fall out of his mouth before he can think of a better way to say what needs to be said. He continues, “when we did a million shots and you kissed me?”
You snap back, slapping a hand on his chest and nearly teetering to the ground. “You bitch! You kissed me!”
“So you do remember!”
“Of course I remember,” you declare. “I thought you didn’t remember.”
You remember. You remember how his mouth tasted, how you ground into his lap, the feeling of his hands on your ass. All of it sticks with you like it stuck to him.
“Trust me, I remember.”
“Well, why didn’t you say anything?” you huff.
“I was going to but you told me you started dating whatever-his-name before I could.”
“Because I thought you didn’t like me back!”
“I’ve liked you since the first day I met you.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“You should’ve said something.” The admonishment means nothing. Not with the way you smile at him. It makes his heart soar, hope bursting at the seams. 
“I didn’t even know you realized I was a dude until college, why would I say something?”
“Trust me, I knew you were a guy way before college.”
“And we’re back to the original question: why didn’t you say anything?”
It's ridiculous. Utterly comical and unimportant of who said what when because they’re being said now and Seungcheol never has to pretend he isn’t hopelessly in love with you ever again.
You cozy up into his chest, fingers tracing the collar of his shirt. “Wow, barely five minutes we’re already fighting.”
“We’re not fighting.” His lips burn the word into your hairline, arms wrapping around your frame so his fingers can finally, finally, trace the bared skin of your back.
“Oh really?” You laugh. “Then what are we doing, oh wise one?”
“We’re having a spirited conversation over the fact you kissed me and never said anything.”
“And now we’re fighting over whether or not we’re fighting.”
“We’re not fighting.”
“You’re exhausting.” Your eyes roll. He can’t see it, not with how you duck into his neck, but he knows you did it. Because Seungcheol knows you better than anyone else.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“And you kissed me.”
“Well then there's only one way to settle this.”
“Which is?”
Seungcheol doesn’t answer. If Jeonghan could be lit on fire and not think of anyone but his wife, then the world could fall to dust and the only thing on Seungcheol’s mind is the way your mouth feels against his.
It’s light at first. Airy because you’re both still laughing over arguing if you’re fighting or not. But then Seungcheol loses his balance and you help by curling a hand around his shoulder but refuse to stop kissing him and the world blinks out of existence for a second.
All the cliches start making sense. Two halves of a whole, puzzle pieces slipping together, all the things poets could say in a million more eloquent ways than him.
But Seungcheol feels at home for the first time in his life.
It’s not easy maneuvering a full grown woman up and into his lap. It’s especially not easy because you’re you and you’re more stubborn than anyone he’s met in his life which means you object to every step, huff and puff at a brief second of broken contact, but the second he spins you around and drags over his lap you melt.
Your tongue glides along his, sending a tsunami of want through his bones. You whimper. Or maybe he does. Seungcheol can’t tell what's up and what's down right now. He finds the open back of your dress and relishes in the arch of your spine, the choppy breath he can feel beneath his palms.
The silk bow holding your dress up teases his hand as Seungcheol traces the notches of your spine. No one would see. No one except him and the moon and the stars who’ve all stopped to watch. He wants to. God, he wants to but he doesn’t.
You tug at his hair and your name floods his tongue like a curse. 
Draped across his lap in nothing but thin satin, you can feel all of him. How his cock hardens against the back of your thighs, shaky breathes in his lungs wrecking into your own chest. You're not wearing a bra. None of that tape or the sticky thing you’d leave hanging in the bathroom when you lived together. Seungcheol knows because he thumbs over the soft swell of your chest and you respond with a rock of hips that leaves his mouth watering.
The last time he kissed you, that fateful night freshman year of college, Seungcheol thought about it every night for months. He thought about it in the shower, in his bed. His mind would wander towards the memory during class and when he walked around campus.
Now he’ll think about this for the rest of his life.
A shrieking laugh almost sends you to the ground in haste to break away, but Seungcheol catches you in time. 
“Um…” you choke. Your lips are swollen, eyes a little dazed.
“We should go back inside.”
“Yeah.”
“Just, give me a minute.”
“Why?” Your smile grows steadily as you press more firmly into his predicament.
“I have an issue right now.”
“What kind of issue, Cheolie?” you stare at him through your lashes, finger tracing down the front of his shirt until you reach the button of his pants.
“Oh God,” he grunts as the heel of your hand rocks into him. “You’re actually evil.”
Your lips trace over his jaw, sucking and nipping at the lobe of his ear until he shudders. “Don’t you want me?” 
“I do,” he breaths. “Shit.”
His hand squeezes across your ass, your breasts, mindful of how much freedom you’re giving him. To feel you like this, to touch you the way he’s wanted to for years. 
“Then have me,” you moan. 
“Don’t say stuff like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you want me to fuck you right here.”
“But I do want you to fuck me.” Your hand is in his pants. “Right.” A tight squeeze on his cock. “Here.” He ruts into the next one.
His insides spark with a hot kind of electricity at the idea of you jerking him off where anyone could see. But he wants to touch you. And that he doesn’t want anyone else to even imagine. He’s shared you enough with the world. 
Seungcheol wants a piece of you that's just for him right now.
“Fuck, okay. Stop.”
“What’s wrong?”
“We’re going back inside.”
“Oh?”
Seungcheol doesn’t give into your obvious goading. It’ll just waste more time. Give you another chance to wring him out to dry and he knows if you get his pants down far enough it’s game over for the both of you. 
He rushes you through the garden, all but dragging you behind him in his haste to get you somewhere secluded. He’d settle for a broom closet at this point. Anywhere he can have you alone.
But you won’t go down without a fight.
You slow to a near stop, whining, “My feet hurt.”
Seungcheol leads you back over another stone bench, immediately kneeling and grabbing your ankle. The pebbles of the path dig into his knee but the slit of silk revealing your bare legs is a good distraction.
“Alright, Cinderella. Let’s get these off,” he jokes. The buckle is delicate and keeps slipping from between his fingers no thanks to your help.
“I can do it myself!”
You try to kick him off but Seungcheol catches your calf easily. Instead of focusing on the teasing stretch of skin, he watches the way your nose wrinkles indignantly after thwarting your attempt to catch him off guard. You’re cute. Probably because he’s in love with you and the rush from knowing you love him back has him feeling a million miles tall.
“Cheol?”
“Yeah?”
Pulling your foot into his lap, Seungcheol brushed his fingers against the knob of your ankle. The tiny buckle that refuses to come undone. Your shaking doesn’t help much.
“Cold?” he asks.
You nod furiously. Warmth hangs in the air but Seungcheol won’t assume your comfort; the silk you're wrapped in doesn’t provide much coverage against the elements. It doesn’t provide him any protection from a wild imagination fueled from years of pining. Without a thought, he shakes off his jacket and hands it to you before moving back to your shoe.
Looming over him, Seungcheol feels your breath hit his forehead. He wants to look up but you’re too close. Too tempting. 
He finally undoes one shoe, then the other. But you don’t say anything and neither does he from his spot between your legs. It’d be easy. So easy to bunch your skirt around your waist, part your legs, and make you cum on his finger. Then his mouth. Then his cock.
You’re thinking the same thing. A hiccup of breath rustling the hair on his forehead, your hands stroking the muscles of his neck give you away. 
But when he starts, he knows he won’t be able to start. He’ll want nothing less than all of you. Give all of himself to you. If you’ll have him.
But a hard stone bench isn’t the place to worship your body the way you deserve. He’d be a gentleman. Even if it killed him to wait any longer. You were worth waiting for. Seungcheol would wait a million more lifetimes if he got to feel like this again.
No shoes means he’s carrying you the rest of the way. He’s done it before and you’re not that heavy but he’s been drinking. And then there's the matter of all the blood in his body heading south, so he struggles more than usual.
“You’re sure you’ve got it?” you cling on for dear life when he nearly stumbles under the first step.
“Sorry, I haven’t been carrying a lot of full grown women around lately.”
“I thought you were looking a little small,” you goad.
“Small?” he objects.
“Yeah, small.” You squeeze over his biceps and his chest like you two aren’t sneaking around a packed mansion where anyone could stumble by. His resolve slips further out of reach at the dig of your nails. “Been skipping the gym lately?”
He feigns dropping you, laughing when you scramble for hold under threat of falling flat on your ass.
“Asshole!” you laugh.
Things fizzle back to comfortable silence. Your companions are far off laughs and the loud music from the courtyard. The garden is all but abandoned, not a single soul in sight. It makes it all too tempting to find another bench and take up what was interrupted earlier. The heat of your breath against his ear with each giggled whisper didn’t help. Neither did the warm weight of your thighs in his hold or the firm press of your chest against his back. 
It’s a mistake to look over his shoulder. Your eyes shine in the moonlight as you stare back, a smile lifting the corner of your lips.
Seungcheol focuses back on the hallway, double checking for any passersby. There’s nothing indecent about a man giving a woman a tipsy piggy back ride. 
But there is something entirely inappropriate about how hard he is while doing so.
And Seungcheol knows you know. Or if you don’t then the universe has a personal investment in his suffering. Every step is more difficult than the last because your thighs squeeze around his torso, and your hands find their way down his chest, and then there’s the giggling every time he back tracks because a drunken guest stumbles by on the way to their own room.
You’re sneaking around like two idiot teenagers and it might kill him from lack of blood to his brain.
But Seungcheol wouldn’t have it any other way.
He pauses at the last staircase to catch his breath. There’s no reason you’re still on his back other than the fact he doesn’t want to let you go and the position is the only reason he hasn’t found a dark corner to do whatever you please yet.
“Awww poor Seungcheol, tired already,” you coo. 
Your teasing tone makes his blood boil, worse how you readjust your hold with more squeeze and stretching that leaves him with nothing but horribly inappropriate thoughts of what you’ll do after he gets up the stairs.
Finally, the hallway housing your room appears and he can’t get through the door fast enough. 
You're pressed flat between the door and his body in a blink, fully at Seungcheol’s mercy as he kisses you again. 
“Wait,” you mutter.
Seungcheol sucks along your bottom lip. You pull him closer, arching into his chest. Your stomach is soft against the gentle grinds of his cock. He doesn’t want to wait anymore.
“We—hmmm,” you sigh. “Need to talk about this.” 
Seungcheol pulls away from your mouth, trailing scorching kisses down your neck that leave you shivering. “What about it? I love you, you love me. Feels like that's all there is to it.” 
The second he says it, Seungcheol knows he’s wrong. But he doesn’t want to think about the fine details. He’s never done long distance but you’re only a train ride away. 
“Cheol.” You prod a finger into his collarbone until he dips back.
“I mean it’ll suck being in different cities but it’s not forever right? We’ll figure it out.”
You dip your chin. “I’m not staying in New York.”
“Oh. That’s—” he cups your cheek, pulling your gaze to his. “I’ll go wherever you need me.”
You smile up at him and everything goes blank. In that moment, he vows to do anything you ever ask if it means you’ll keep looking at him like that.
“I’m moving back to D.C.” You kiss the words into his palm, eyes never leaving his.
“Really?”
“Yeah.” You smile. “Sofie’s friend needed a roommate and my job agreed to let me go remote so…”
“When do you move back?”
“Two months. They want to wait until the busy season is over.”
“But then you’re back. For good?”
“For good.”
It feels like you're promising a whole lot more.. 
You have Seungcheol for good too. As long as you want him, he’s yours. Probably for long after too. 
He’s so happy, it burns across his skin. It can’t be contained. This is all real. He fights the urge to pinch himself because not even in the wildest of his dreams did he think this was possible. 
"When you come back home.” Home he thinks. Home with him. Where you belong. “We're going on a date. And you're going to let me pay, and woo you, and take care of you because I love you. Okay?”
Your hands twine around his shoulders before you respond with a nod, “Okay.”
In the privacy of your room, you’re the one that tugs the knot holding your dress up. The silk slips down your chest revealing inch after inch of what he’s only dreamed off. When it pools around your waist, Seungcheol almost falls to his knees.
You shiver in the cool bedroom air. His eyes drink in the way your nipples peek under his gaze. Every inhale shakes in your lungs and he thinks this might just be enough for him to die peacefully. The silk trickles like water down your figure until you're left standing in nothing but skimpy panties.
“Fuck,” he curses.
Your hands flash to cover your chest, “What?”
“No, don’t,” Seungcheol reassures. His hands find yours, tracing along your thumb. “You’re just…”
“Just?” you ask.
“Wow.”
“I’m wow?” you laugh. 
Seungcheol takes another step into your space. And then another and another, your dress crumbling to the floor and leaving behind nothing but the thin band of your underwear for him to remove. Your knees hit the mattress and he follows you down into the cushion.
You're soft and warm like afternoon sunlight on a winter day under his wandering hands.
“You’re wow,” he responds, angling your chin so your mouth can meet his, noses grazing against one another.
You don’t have the patience to hear Seungcheol ramble about how perfect you are. Instead, you drag him into a desperate kiss, tongue teasing his. He’ll wax poetically later. Right now he wants to give you whatever you demand.
More kissing, the prickle of your teeth along his lip, and Seungcheol is pretty sure he’s never been harder in his life. It’s humbling and exhilarating all at once. Ready to crumble into nothing from some light petting.
He takes his revenge on the curve of your shoulder and it turns out to be extra sensitive. Every nip and suck along your collarbone leaves you panting, hands scratching up his back for some relief. He wonders what else is sensitive.
He laves against your nipple in maddening slowness. You torture him as well, ankles locking at the base of his spine while you grind against him and make more noises he’ll commit to memory forever.
 “God,” you whine when Seungcheol finally breaks and rocks down into the tempting heat of your core.
He needs more. 
“Do you think about this?” he grunts with another torturous press. He could come like this. You could come from this. Two adults, reduced to dry humping like horny teenagers.
“I think about you all the time,” you gasp.
“What do you think about?”
“You.”
Seungcheol snickers, “More specific.”
“Touching me, kissing me. Anywhere. Everywhere.”
A swell of neanderthal pride blooms in his heart. The image of you, touching yourself with his name on your lips breaks another piece of his self control that wants to savor this.
“Here?” he kisses the swell of your breast, waiting for a nod to move on. 
“Here?” A suck on your nipple again until the bed sheets threaten to rip from your hold.
“Here?” A bite at your hip bone.
His fingers part your core, wet at first contact even over your panties. “What about here?”
“Everywhere. I’ve thought about you touching me everywhere.” You sound like you might start crying if he doesn’t fulfill that fantasy soon. 
But he’s dying to know every little thought you’ve ever had about him. If you think about him a fraction as much as he thinks about you. Not just like this, but when he sees a building he’d never think twice about and know you’d have something to say about the construction of the window arches, or when he walks through the park and sees two dogs meeting for the first time and can hear your voice whisper ‘best friends!’ like you’re right beside him. You’re in everything. Every part of who he is.
Your panties come off and he licks between your legs slowly, savoring every part he can while you twitch and curl beneath him. 
“Cheol,” you whine.
There's no need to elaborate. He feels it too.
Your back bows under his touch, and Seungcheol watches you touch yourself with rapt attention. You grab your breasts and squeeze, nipples visible between fingers. 
He sucks your clit, tongue lashing at the sensitive nub. A million times Seungcheol thought about doing this and never did his brain imagine the sounds you’d make, the way you taste, the rough tub at his hair. You're hot and wet under his mouth and all Seungcheol wants is more, more, more.
“Tell me how it feels.”
“So good—fuck—it’s so good,” you gasps as he fucks your opening with his tongue, collection your flavor.
His finger wedges inside your tight walls. You angle your hips, sinking them deeper. Seungcheol pauses for only a moment before giving you a second one. The sting across his scalp from your frantic tugging leaves him straining against the zipper of his slacks.
He cups your ass, dragging you closer to the edge of the bed where he kneels. Your legs spread wider to grant him the space to  savor the pink of your folds under his tongue without obstruction.
Your pitch rises, moaning through a third finger joining the mix and a rough lap of his tongue that has you kicking the sheets.. He can feel it; your end just over the hill. A few vulgar flicks of his tongue and its release in long waves that make you keen his name horsley. 
You melt into a boneless heap. Occasional twitches of muscles flooding with pleasure the only sign of life.
Seungcheol mouths up your stomach, sucking a nipple between his teeth for a second before moving on to your mouth. If all you want to do tonight is kiss and let Seungcheol worship your pussy, then he’ll oblige. But the way pull at his clothes hints at what you want. He draws you back into his lap, your body hot against his, mouth coaxing yours open. 
“Good?”
You giggle against his mouth. “I can’t feel my toes.”
He can’t stop touching you. Probably won’t ever stop now that he knows what it means to call you his. To know your body. You’re no better. Your hands rake through his hair, goosebumps erupting as you tug him exactly where you want.
The soft lines of your throat, the intoxicating taste of sweat and perfume flooding his tongue. It’s better than anything his sorry excuse for an imagination could come up with.
You tug at his shirt, up and up until it’s forgotten on the floor. Your bare chest against his lights an inferno of want. Seungcheol pushes apart your limp thighs, making space for himself to grind against your sensitive core through his own trousers. 
Seungcheol remembers a crucial fact as you slip a hand in his pants and tease his leaking cock.
“Wait,” he mutters into your jaw.
You don’t stop, slowly jerking him off, teeth cutting into the vein on his neck. “What?’
Seungcheol savors your touch before responding, thrusting through your first with blind want. “I don’t have condoms.”
“Oh.”
“I can go and try to find some but I—” he rambles. 
“Cheol.”
“—everyone is probably still at the party so—”
You shut him up with a hand over his mouth, “I’m on birth control and I’m clean.”
“Oh.”
Oh. Seungcheol’s brain swims with lewd imagination; you stuffed with his cum, pussy stretched and worn from his cock. Feeling you raw, again and again until your helpless sweaty messes. 
“Unless you want to use them then that's fine!” you hastily supply.
He cups your face, smiling as you ramble about how okay you are with using condoms. Your face is warm, eyes avoidant while you enthusiastically declare you want to do whatever makes him comfortable. Which is an entirely new problem because if your goal is to make him comfortable, then neither of you will be leaving this bed for the foreseeable future and at some point people will start looking for you.
Seungcheol rolls over. You take advantage of the opportunity for free command of his lap, forcing his pants down until he’s as bare as you. He preens under your wide eye stare, ego flaring under your wide eye stare. Leaning back on his palms, he grows cocky from your silence.
“Like what you see?” Seungcheol goads.
Your gaze cuts to his, eyebrows arched in your own challenge. A flare of fear zaps up his spine. 
He loves it.
Seungcheol is accustomed to taking the lead in bed. Some girls want him to be domineering, others prefer to sit back while he naturally takes the reins. 
But you’ve butt heads with him in every aspect of life, hopefully this would be no different. He’s hoping you might even try telling him exactly how you want him.
“You’re so hard for me,” you whisper. Your hand reaches out, thumbing at the leaking head of his cock with seductive confidence. 
Seungcheol nods in agreement at a loss of words under your touch.
Your head cocks to the side curiously, empty hand slipping between your thighs, making space for the head of his cock to nudge against your clit. “Do you wanna fuck me?” 
He nods again.
“Good,” you smile. You hide in his neck, nosing along the tense muscles straining to break out from his skin. “I thought about you fucking me like this. When we were in high school. I thought—I wanted you to be the first.”
“Really?” he asked dazedly. 
Your first. Not Stoner Ricky from Calculus. But him. You wanted Seungcheol to have you first, possible be the only one for each other. It’s a lie if he didn’t think of you in the back of his mom’s car while Tiffany Something took his virginity. Your lips, your voice instead of her nasally pornographic sounds, when he came it was only because he closed his eyes and thought of you. 
He tells you that and earns a deep bite on his shoulder. 
You continue, “I’d watch porn or read those smut books, and I always pictured it was you.”
“God.”
You sink on his cock, pussy stretched on his length, stars flaring across your vision. There's not enough air in the room to breathe through the tight squeeze wrecking your guts. You’re in the position of control but Seungcheol can already see submission gaining control. You won’t admit you can handle his cock but pride warms his veins at how much energy it takes for your stunted rhythm. 
“Fuck,” you curse.
 “Yeah? Feels good having your pussy stuff with my cock?” Your nails bite into his chest in response. Pink lines flare in their wake, one he hopes are still there tomorrow. 
Seungcheol drags you into a kiss, a dirty culmination of teeth and tongue and your satisfied sighs and his needy grunts. You suck at his lips, focused on that rather than riding him. 
“Taping out already?” 
You ignore the dig. It takes the barest twinge of his arm and you’re rolling on your back, legs spread in invitation. He sinks into the space reserved just for him, sliding deeper than before. Now he’s the one that needs a moment. Squeezed to death between your walls is the sweet torture he’s ever experienced, the wet sloppy drag of your cunt, bare for him and him alone. 
It’s an act of bravery to pull out for the sake of thrusting back in. If he was confident enough you could get off without his hips sinking deeper then he’d never do it, content to keep his cock wedge inside you and play with your clit and tits until you cry from the pleasure. But he really wants to fuck you. 
“God, feels so good.” You break. He keeps his pace steady, building you up until you muster a way to squeeze him tighter and his skins on fire. 
He hoists your leg up, a deeper stretch that leaves him muttering about how good you feel. The wet slap of your cunt grows louder, sloppy clashes of his pelvis against yours.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants, stomach caving. The urge to cum is nipping at his heels but Seungcheol is better than that. Better than a quick fuck, at least for this first time. He wants to hear more of your sounds, fold you in every position he can imagine.
“More,” you grunt. “Fuck me harder, baby.”
He gives you what you ask for; plowing you into the mattress until the headboard slaps against the wall. “You like that?”
“Love it—shit. I love it.” You prop yourself up, shoving a hand between your bodies to swipe messy strokes across your clit. Seungcheol collects more sounds from the back of your throat, rough growls and stuttered squeaks. His cock is heavy in your guts, soaked with your arousal and his cum.
Your mouth finds his. Panting breath and loose tangles of lips. It’s a race against time with his vision bleached white. Your stomach caves with effort to meet each stroke with one of your own. 
“I love you,” he groans. 
You clench at his words, growing wetter if possible. Flailing against the bed, he hooks your other knee under his elbow and presses flat, pinning you down under his mercy. “I love you,” you whine back. “I-I—”
Your orgasm floods your veins, brain fuzzy and disconnected from anything beyond Seungcheol. He takes over the circles around your clit. Calloused fingers providing sick friction until you can’t take anymore.
“Wanna feel you come, Cheolie. Please,” you beg.
Something snaps and he’s rushing to pull out, jerking off over your stomach with your hand to help.
Rope after rope shines in the dim moonlight. He can’t even try to pretend the thrill of cumming inside isn’t on the forefront of his mind as the drips of his spend stare back at him. But you look like a fantasy come true cover in his cum, skinned flushed, eyes glazed and chest heaving. His own Venus come to life.
He pushes back in, spent cock sensitive to the squeeze of your cunt. Seungcheol doesn't want to be anywhere else. Now that he has you, he can't imagine a moment without you.
Sinking the weight of his hips, your legs lock him in. A combination of cum, sweat, arousal, and a few tears sticks between your sweltering bodies. Neither of you care, too enamored with cataloguing every bare inch of skin with in reach of your mouths.
‘Ugh,'' you groan. “I need a shower.” 
In the bathroom, where so many horrible dangerous thoughts have plagued Seungcheol since the start of this trip, it’s peaceful. The thrum of the shower drowns out any sound beyond your sleepy huffs and his hums of content. 
As the water heats you press him into the edge of the sink, kissing him as if there's all the time in the world to do just that. That seed of need that has been growing steadily in his gut since he kissed you in the garden comes alive again. You seem to ignore the prod at your thigh though so Seungcheol ignores it too and shepherds you into the stall.
He washes your back with soapy hands and you coif his hair into a shampoo mohawk and it’s feel right no matter how ridiculous he probably looks. You twist every time he touches your waist, shrieking in laughter because you hate being tickled.
Seungcheol is happy. It floods his veins, shoots through the tips of his fingers tracing your hip, forcing a content grin on his lips despite the fatigue of the day. He rests his forehead against your own and takes his first deep breath since New Years.
“I don’t want this to change anything."
“What?” you pull away.
“No!” Seugncehol shouts, wincing at the voluming. “Not—I didn’t mean that I just meant…I-I want you to feel like you can tell me anything. No more secrets. Okay? No matter what changes between us you're still my best friend. If I'm acting like an ass I want you to tell me. If you change your mind then-"
You watch him, features softening. “I won't."
You distract him with your own touches; it’s nice at first. Then it’s nothing short of blissful agony. Teasing nails across his stomach and sides, firm against his body in a way that leaves him weak and wanting. His heart thuds sporadically under your lips as his cock swells against your stomach.
“Y/N,” he sighs.
You kneel in front of him, smirking at how easy he is. You rub his cock with a slick grip. Your mouth comes into play slowly; kissing his hip, then his thigh, your tongue drags up the side until you suck the head between your lips and Seungcheol almost collapses.
You hold his thighs, guiding him further down your throat until there's no more space and you gag. He isn’t sure what to do with his hands but it doesn’t matter because he’s cumming. Fast.
Without missing a beat, you swallow everything he gives you. 
“Oh god—fuck.”
“Good?” you ask, still licking against the head of his cock.
Rather than answer the obvious, he pulls you to your feet with a gentle kiss to your forehead. He’ll make it up to you back in bed. For right now, you curl into his chest, tracing shapes into his collarbone as the water slowly turns cold. 
He pats you dry, ruffling your hair in the humid bathroom with all the time in the world before dragging you back to bed. You snuggle under the covers, still naked. Seungcheol joins immediately, rolling on top of you and caging his arms on either side of your head.
“Hi,” you smile from underneath him.
He can’t help but grin back. “Hi.”
You make love slowly this time. Your back to his chest, Seungcheol curled around you like a second skin, whispering his adoration in your ear until you lurch and cum with a cry. Then he does it again. And one more time because nothing is better than the taste of his name on your tongue.
This time, when Seungcheol finishes, it’s inside you. And when he tries to pull out, you protest with a sleepy threat before slipping into the land of dreams.
Tumblr media
“Well, well, well,” Jeonghan tsks from the foot of the bed. “What do we have here?”
You’re still curled in Seungcheol’s arms, bare skin on bare skin only obscured by the blanket he had half a mind to drag over your two in the early hours of the morning. He’s still inside you for Christ Sake. 
And yet Jeonghan and Sofie stand like two cats who caught the canary; unperturbed by the state of things. More like they’re delighted.
It might go down as the shortest honeymoon in history because Seungcheol is going to murder them.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on a boat in Greece somewhere?” Seungcheol croaks, pulling you closer and forcing the blanket overhead. Maybe if he ignores them long enough they’ll go away.
“We were just leaving and wanted to say goodbye since some people decided to ditch our wedding. Now I see why.”
“Jeonghan,” you croak.
Jeonghan preens smugly. “Yes, whore?” 
 “Get out or I’ll show Sofie that video of you from Halloween.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“What video from Halloween?” Sofie asks.
“Jeonghan,” you warn. You’ll do it. The video of Jeonghan sobbing in a party city wig about how much he liked Sofie before they started dating is one of the few pieces of blackmail against him. 
“Fine. But when I’m back next month I want an explanation.”
“What video from Halloween?” She asks again as Jeonghan pushes her out the door.
“I hate him,” you say.
Seungcheol hums his agreement against your shoulder, tracing the skin with his lips until you shiver. “Me too.”
“Now, are you gonna do something about that,” you rock back into his pelvis, a tight squeeze around his cock he bucks into. “Or can I get up?”
“Roll over.”
Seungcheol fucks you for the nth time in so few hours. You whine and whimper and melt into the mattress under his weight, face buried in the pillows in an effort to stay quiet. He doesn’t care that the sun is heavy in the sky and half the house must be able to hear the way he groans around the syllables of your name. 
He doesn’t care one bit.
Tumblr media
Seungcheol has seen you in plenty of relationships, been in several of his own, but he’s never been in a relationship with you.
Turns out all the daydreaming and what-ifs couldn't come close to reality.
It’s better.
Most things are still the same. You two still bicker about everything. He finds your hair all over his apartment. His clothes magically disappear from his closet only to turn up at your place. You call him a stubborn jackass and he calls you a drama queen (both in regards to how he loads the dishwasher).
And he loves that even while dating you two refuse to change. 
But Seungcheol also loves all the new things. The firsts you get to share.
The first time you visit home as a couple, your mom spots him kissing along your knuckles as you approach the house and she starts crying. Loudly. He spots his dad hand his mom twenty bucks but not before your dad hands over another ten.
Apparently, everyone was waiting for this to happen. 
His dad claps him on the shoulder and your dad shakes his hand and suddenly he’s no longer Seungcheol, childhood best friend who lived down the street. He is Seungcheol, boyfriend. He’s known your parents since he was in elementary school and his mom texts you more frequently than her own son.
But none that matters because, at the ripe age of thirty, you two are banned from sleeping over during the visit for the first time in your lives.
He’s got a suspicion it’s because none of them know how to handle their kids finally dating. You and Seungcheol have never been normal but they’re trying. 
Even if he sneaks out like he’s a teenager and climbs into your window in the dead of night. Now that's a fantasy come to life.
Back in the city Seungcheol discovers more ways things have changed.
You spend almost every night at Seungcheol’s apartment. When your sublease ends after four months there isn’t a big production about moving in with him. You had a key since he moved into the place years ago. Your stuff ends up in his spare room, which becomes ‘your’ room but you both call it the guest room and it's a new level of domesticity he’s never had.
In the mornings, you find him in the bathroom if he forgot to drop a good morning kiss on your forehead (something he’s started doing on purpose because you totter in with your eyes still closed and pajamas wrinkled, diving straight into his chest and grumbling incoherently until he gives in). It’s enough to make his heart squeeze even after the hundredth time). 
Or how you constantly find a reason to touch him. Curled around his back while he makes dinner, shimmying under his arm when he’s reading case files on the couch. A hand through his hair while you cuddle in bed. Your shared bed, in your shared apartment. Which he is embarrassingly giddy about but you are too and that makes him feel better. You meet for lunch, at either of your offices, and he can see the instinct to drop into his lap making your fingers twitch but only because his own flex with the urge to pull you in first.
The first time you go to a baseball game together and end up on the kiss cam and he doesn’t have to pretend to not notice or awkwardly wait for the cameraman to catch the hint, because you’re kissing him until his ears grow hot and the crowd hoots wildly.
In the best way possible it’s weird. He doesn’t know how to date someone he’s been in love with for as long as he can remember. A lot of it feels like being friends. Like whatever was there before is the bones and all the new things filled in the empty space between.
There isn’t really a guide or set timeline but you’re figuring it out. 
And Jeonghan helps. In his own Jeonghan way.
“You guys have been softcore dating since highschool. Just think of it like dogs. You’ve dated for a year now, right? That's like seven years for your guys.”
Seungcheol will tell you later tonight, after you’ve said yes, how the last part of your trio gave his blessing. How Sofie helped him pick the ring (which was really Seungcheol picking the ring and her providing moral support via muzzling her husband).
But for right now, he watches you across the table, laughing at something the waiter said, the weight of the velvet box burning a hole in his pocket.
And he knows the next first you have together will be the best one yet.
Tumblr media
Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie
@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire
@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi
@writingbarnes @dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts
@wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos @seungkw1 @horanghaezone @jespecially
@scoupsjin @isabellah29 @luvseungcheol @crisle19 @iamawkwardandshy
@lukeys-giggle
Fic taglist:
@sourkimchi @aaniag @sillygirl-bee17 @xcynthiaaa @bath1lda
@blondechann @accalus @talk-inriddles @junniesoleilkth @yoongznme
@christinewithluv @rakshithanotrao @cherryluster @sarahmoonlxght-blog @linminhgk
@min-core @helloiliketits @atsumulovemail @whoa-jo @asyre
@telepathylftv @firstmatecherry @wonuskie  @softiesoga @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan
@maxsanee @mischiefmanaged90 @randomworker @bouclesdefeu
@smoooore @hanipopeta
© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited
2K notes · View notes
jo-com · 5 months ago
Text
୧ ‧₊˚ 💐⋅ ☆ ➛ You bagged that?
Lando Norris x Fem!Actressreader
Summary: Lando has seen everyone of your movies— from tv shows to random videos, he’s just so updated about you in everything it’s crazy, but what’s more crazy is him spreading that you guys are dating.
Genre: SMAU
Fc: Elle Fanning
Note: There are some grammatical errors to look out for!
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist
─────── ─ ✉⋆˚。 ⋆୨୧˚─ ───────
Tumblr media
Liked by Landonorris and 3,901 others
No.1fFan_ Yn is an actual princess, i love her so much😍
Tagged; @Not_Yn
View all comments
Username1 SHE IS THE EPITOME OF ROYALTY 👸🏻
Username2 I love her movies sm🥹
Username3 BESTIE SAME!!
Username4 lando on likes??👀👀
Username5 uhm who?
Username6 some f1 driver whose been liking her for years
Username5 ohhh
Username7 he just likes every pic of hers ig🤷🏻‍♀️
Username8 I’VE SEEN HER IN PERSON, SHE’S SUPER NICE🥰
Landonorris Lucky😢😢
Username9 DHSHUSUWB LANDO😭
Tumblr media
Liked by louispatridge_, Landonorris, Netflix and 2,378,901 others
Not_yn I have two sides😚
View all comments
Landonorris love all ur sides!
Carlossainz55 Dream on lover boy😝
Landonorris Fuck off
Username10 lmao them fighting in the comments r so iconic
Username11 y/n not even giving a damn😭
Username12 HER BEING SO ETHEREAL IS EVERYTHING
Landonorris I AGREE😫
Username13 not lando being her no.1 fan
Username14 stalker much??
Username15 girl stfu, u do the same
Annehathaway why is ur comment sec always chaotic
Not_yn even I don’t know😭
Landonorris just posted!
Tumblr media
Liked by mclaren, and 12,378 others
Landonorris so pretty😍
View all comments
Username16 THE DELUSION😭
Username17 Y/n didn’t even like this
Username18 A+ for the confidence
Username19 WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ON HOW PRETTY SHE LOOKS
Landonorris real😢
Charles_Leclerc Dude…
Carlossainz55 Man…
Georgerussell63 🤦🏻‍♂️🤦🏻‍♂️🤦🏻‍♂️
Pierregasly Oh brother..
Username20 THEY HAVE MIXED FEELINGS😭
Username21 lmao the whole f1 attacking him
Username22 the whole gang came to shame him
Username23 yn being so unbothered😎
Username24 MY QUEEN FR🥰
➛ Messages
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Liked by 4,679 others
WAG.updates ACTRESS Y/N L/N WERE SEEN KISSING THE KNOWN F1 DRIVER LANDO NORRIS— The couple have been spotted together a few times already.
Tagged; @Not_yn, @landonorris
View all comments
Username25 oh…
Username26 we owe him an apology
Username27 LANDO DESERVES AN APOLOGY FROM ALL😭
Username28 nobody believed the poor man
Landonorris WHAT’S UP NOW BITCHES
Landonorris and they call me crazy🙄
Maxverstappen u still are😑
Landonorris Yeah..crazy right that is🤪🤪
Username29 gaslighting myself that this isn’t true
Username30 Y/n isn’t even in the likes must be fake
Username31 GIRL PLS LANDO ALR COMMENTED
Username30 doesn’t prove anything
Tumblr media
Liked by Landonorris, urbff, and 5,092,278 others
Not_yn wanted to soft launch but the jig is up
Tagged; @Landonorris
View all comments
Landonorris can finally say i love you without being judged😛
Not_yn my poor baby has been so much
Username32 NOOO MY HEART IS FOREVER BROKEN
Username33 welp good bye cruel world
Username34 they lowkey adorable ngl
Landonorris now u ship us🙄🙄
Username34 WE’RE SORRY😭
Charles_Leclerc we stand corrected
Carlossainz55 i know when to say sorry. Sorry
Username35 she’s so pretty💕💕
Landonorris the prettiest😁
Pierregasly aww lover boy
Landonorris fuck off
➛ Messages
Tumblr media
Loved this!!
1K notes · View notes
b0nten · 11 months ago
Text
HOW ARE BABIES MADE?
[SYNOPSIS] ˚⁀➷。 ran, rindou, sanzu, takeomi, kakucho, mikey and izana being asked by their children how babies are made.
[NOTES] ˚⁀➷。 reader is implied to be fem, reader is called “mother”, “mommy” etc. this was so fun to write!!! thank you anon for requesting <3 also, i used tenjiku&bonten characters but everything’s taking place in the final timeline.
Tumblr media
RAN is definitely the type to try to explain the entire thing, without any second thoughts whatsoever. He’d definitely hear the question, and open his mouth but before gets to say ‘sex’ he feels a book flat against his head. “what do you think you’re doing?” you whisper-yell from the kitchen, curry udon long forgotten on the stove. “explaining to your daughter how she spawned into the world?” he answers, dodging another decor item that you aimed toward him. upon asking, dramatically and over-exaggeratedly of course, so offended because he just doesn’t know what he was doing wrong, you just stare at him. “we agreed to tell her when she’s 14. she doesn’t even know boys have dicks and you want to explain the entirety of sex and how it goes to her? do you even know how it works?” he sighs, defeated, “let’s go eat, sweetheart, i think i made mommy a lil mad.” he says, picking up his daughter, “that last part was uncalled for, by the way.” “suck it up, mr. club owner. ”
Tumblr media
meanwhile, RINDOU simply freezes: “daddy, how are babies made?” what? excuse him? oh my lord, he did not expect this to happen this early. why the hell is his five year old son asking him about coital activity, right when you’re not around? fuck him (himself), fuck this situation, fuck you for not being around right now (both figuratively and literally). “you see! when… uhm.. when two people love each other and they kiss, they make a baby!” he mentally face-palms for what the fuck he just said. “so you can’t kiss girls until you’re twenty-one, yeah?” finally, thankfully, his phone rings, and thank the heavens it’s you. “oh my god, y/n—” “rindou, what did i just hear on the baby cam?” “haha, my love! funny story!!!!”
Tumblr media
SANZU just goes feral. he’s having a fucking anxiety attack or whatever so he just texts you while your daughter asks her daddy about how babies are made.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
TAKEOMI plays it safe, using the infamous stork. “and it just comes flying?” “yeah, it carries a little basket with its beak and gives it to us!” he smiles, playing into his baby girl’s fantasy. “you sound just like my parents.” you smile and his gaze averts to yours, from his seat on the living room carpet. “well, your own stories inspired me, because, to be honest, i was about to shit myself.” “daddy!” the little one yells, stretching out her palm, “1000 yen!” and her father exasperates “god put me out of this misery of only being an atm, you’re just like your mother. ow! what’d i deserve that punch for?”
Tumblr media
KAKUCHO handles it like a pro. “papa.” one of his little girls walks up to him, younger twin following her right behind. “yes, pretty girl?” he straightens his back and crouches down, still sitting on the couch. “how are babies made, papa?” the shyer one asks and his face drops for a split second. “i promise to tell you when you’re older, right now it’s classified information!” he jokes, and the girls giggle. “now… who wants to watch doraemon!!” he does the jazz hands and the twins jump into his lap. not long after, you sit down next to them. “if i didn’t know any better, i would have said you rehearsed those lines from the moment you were born.” you laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. he wraps an arm around you, chuckling, and kisses the crown of your head.
Tumblr media
if there’s someone (who thinks they’re) escaping this question, it’s MIKEY. “ ‘tou-chan, how are babies made?” blond locks spin toward him, and the big eyes of his daughter look him up and down. “ ‘tou-chan?” she says again, a bit annoyed. mikey sacrifices the motorbike races he’s watching and looks back at her. “ask ‘kaa-chan, i’m not really good at biology.” he smiles when she jumps from her place and runs into your bedroom, where you’re blow-drying your hair. confident that he’s just dodged a bullet, manjiro returns to his priority — the tv. moments later you storm in, hair half wet, still in your bath robe with the kid in your arms, visibly furious. he knows he’s dodged a bullet but is about to get hit by a cannon.
Tumblr media
IZANA is at the dining table doing some paper-work for tenjiku and you’re watching tv when your oldest marches into the kitchen, determined. “daddy.” the blond looks up, eyeing back at the spitting image of himself. “yes?” he answers, and you also look back to see what’s going on. slamming a big book on the table, the toddler points to the cover “how are babies made?” you burst out laughing and your husband snatches the book away, making you laugh hysterically. “where’d you find this?!” he questions, and his forehead is already soaked with sweat and he wants to bury himself into the ground. “your office.” he can’t believe his five year old son walked in there and just so happened to find this book: effective positions for baby-making. his cheeks redden and he scans the room to find you and request your help, but he’s greeted with the sight of you rolling around on the living room floor, trying to calm your laughter down. yay.
4K notes · View notes
satorusdiary · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro
Tojis a dilf in this one too, since you guys love my dilf toji fanfics sm :)
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who scolds you for taking his clothes in his massive closet, but also demands you wear his clothes all the time just because of how cute you look in it.
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who loves the sight of coming home after a long day at work, and sees you in one of his large hoodies waiting for him on the couch.
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who pays for your college tuition, just because he got jealous when another older male came up to you and offered to pay for you tuition. Not only that, but he demands the best from your campus only for you.
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who spoils you, buys you all the best things anyone could wish for, just because you take good care of him and his son. The best girlfriend, and step-mother for his child anyone could ask for. <3
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who cuts your steak, or any big portions of food whenever you go into expensive restaurants.
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who has many framed photos of you in his office, continuously rubbing his thumb over your face whenever he misses you.
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who provides everything for you. He leaves his black card just so you could treat yourself, on your nightstand.
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who gets upset when he notices you don’t use any money out of his black card. You’re his woman, and Toji Fushiguro’s woman deserves the absolute world. So why aren’t you taking it into your advantage?
———————————————————————————
Toji
Sweetheart, why aren’t you using my card? sent 1:09 pm
You
I don’t need it.. Toji i feel bad, i feel like i’m depending on you too much. :( seen 1:09 pm
Toji
Baby. Everything that’s mine is yours, go treat yourself please. You deserve it, i’ll come pick you up inna few n we’re gonna go shopping. seen 1:10 pm
You
I love you so so much, can Megumi come? seen 1:10 pm
Toji
Yes. Get him ready if it’s not a problem, i’ll take you both on a family dinner date at the new restaurant in the city. seen 1:11 pm
Toji
Also, i love you more.
———————————————————————————
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who isn’t afraid to embarrass any of the college boys who won’t leave his little pretty girlfriend alone.
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who has your name tattooed on his waist, and the date you both got together on his bicep.
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who can’t help but smile whenever you run up to him, with the biggest grin on your lips. His arms opening up so you can jump into his grasp.
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who cuddles you to sleep, he has a large hand around your head and another one around your waist. Somehow, whenever you wake up his hand always manages to be inside your pajamas and in between your thighs..
Later he would explain how he loves to keep his hands warm when he wakes up, which means cupping your heat whilst you sleep.
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who has you on his lap, your face buried in his neck and him rubbing your back while you cry. You never forget the soft words he spills into your ears, trying to console you as you spill out your feelings after a stressful day.
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who surprises you with many bags of luxurious, and expensive jewelry just before you wake up, just so it could cheer you up after crying.
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who kisses your forehead, and makes his way down from your nose, to your lips.
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who knows he found the one when he notices how much Megumi loves you more than him. The amount of times Megumi has came running into your arms without hesitation makes Toji question if his son loves your company more than his. But he isn’t complaining.
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who carries you to take a bath with him. The feeling of his large hands cleaning you never fails to leave you flustered, especially when nude skin to skin contact is happening.
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who always tells you he loves you, and that you will always be his little girl.
nsfw
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who has you in mating press, his forehead against yours as you continue to cry and babble out random shit while his hips slap against yours.
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro whose large cock leaves a bulge. The stretch is overwhelming, but Toji’s always there to comb his hands in your hair to calm you down. Whilst leaving soft kisses on your forehead.
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who loves cupping your breasts.
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who loves when you submit to him. Your begging, and your cries only turns him on even more.
———————————————————————————
“Ohh fuck— Daddy’s fucking you real good hm baby?” The older man’s chain hovers over your face , the heat inside you building up as Toji’ cock continues to bully your cervix.
His hands are cupping your ass, giving big squeezes as it’s also pressing you down on your shared large bed. You felt embarrassed, belittled. Then again, the feeling was exciting.
Your silence only makes his grin get bigger. Now one of his hands are removed from your ass, to your cheek. Cupping it lovingly.
“C’mon, y/n sweetheart don’t be like that. Speak to me before i pull out and leave you here with none of my cum inside of you.” He groans, slowing his thrusts. Your eyes widen as you notice the loss of satisfaction beginning to happen as he slows down.
“N-No! Stop, ‘m sorry Toji.. please keep on going. I’ll be good!” Tears of frustration begin flowing into your pretty lil eyes.
Your boyfriend’s a cruel man. A cruel man who yet knows how to make love to you, and at the same time piss you off. But you can’t argue, who are you to argue with the one who manages to give you all the happiness in the world?
Toji buries his head into your neck, biting harshly as he leaves hickeys over the faded ones. You’re sure you felt his smirk from over your skin.
His thrusts begin getting rougher, rougher than before. Suddenly your hands begin wrapping around your boyfriends neck harshly just so your able to keep yourself steady.
“I gotcha’ sweets.” His cock twitches inside of you as your walls tighten around him.
“Fuck. Your so beautiful y/n. I love you ‘s fuckin much.” His hands intertwine with your smaller ones, his hips slapping even faster and rougher against yours.
———————————————————————————
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who never forgets to fill you up with his load.
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who has many poloroids of you naked, and messy with his cum.
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who jerks off to photos and videos of you when he’s away from home, missing his little family.
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who always praises you for making him feel good, for being his perfect girlfriend, for being the love of his life.
Older bf! Toji Fushiguro whose world only revolves around you.
———————————————————————————
Authors note: not proof read
Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist
9K notes · View notes
silkentine · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
All I could think while drawing Nami was, “Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy?” And, of course, with Robin I was thinking, “save a horse… 🥵”
Design Notes and other opining below the cut:
For Nami, I wanted to go for a mix of cocky Jersey mafia newbie and surfer boy. I like to think that some of the horrendous outfit choices that Sanji makes (especially in the movies) were actually picked out by Nami. She’s the shopper!!! But yeah, the vibrant swim trunks and graphic tees just scream Nami. I also wanted to put him in a wetsuit/rash guard because I think that’s a sexy look so sue me if you hate it. You cannot argue with me that Nami doesn’t wear swimsuits as clothes.
He’s toned but not as muscular as Robin or Luffy (for example) because he isn’t a front-line fighter, I want him to maintain the same kind of role that Nami has in the animanga. He’s the best navigator in the world!! I couldn’t decide if I wanted to change the violent tendencies that Nami has, but ultimately I think he’d still give the more deserving members of the crew a healthy wallop (although I might portray it more cartoonishly). Boy Piece!Nami still grew up under Arlong’s authority so he spent a lot of his childhood walking on eggshells to protect his village and his brother, Nojiko, so I think he never really got to learn “you’re not supposed to hit people just because they frustrate you” lesson. I gave him a shark-tooth necklace because surely Arlong had a few loose teeth to spare once Luffy took her down. Victory spoils LOL
If he can get the girls to stop wrestling and sit down quietly for a while, he likes to host card games (with betting, of course) or watch the clouds while sipping whatever fruity cocktail Sanji whips up. I believe that Canon!Nami is a total lesbian, and I can’t possibly envision a Nami who doesn’t like women so Boy Piece!Nami is bi. I am, of course, a Namivivi truther and Vivi is also a man in this AU. I don’t hate Sanami within this dynamic though… lots to think about.
Okay!!! All-shipper mindset aside, let’s talk Robin. I gave him long hair because 1) it’s hot and 2) I think it makes him look like Dragon. Yeahhh, I subscribe to the Luffy and Robin are half-siblings theory because I think it’s funny and makes some sense. Crocodile is 100% Luffy’s Mom in this AU and I think Robin knows it LOL
For his outfits, I wanted to lean a bit more Indiana Jones where I could; he’s still primarily cowboy inspired though. For the main look, I went with the Skypeia color palette hehe, I think Robin looks good in yellow. I did some flower-petal shaped color blocking on his chaps because I think it’s cute and subtle. I really love that the powers of the Hana-Hana-no-mi are like… unexpected for a “flower flower” fruit and I think Robin would be more aware that juxtaposition as a guy. You might also be wondering about the gloves and I initially just had it for his cowboy look but I decided to put them on all the outfits up until the events of Enies Lobby. Canon!Robin has a really difficult childhood and I think it’s exacerbated by the fact that she’s a girl on her own. If Robin was a boy, he’d probably have an easier time living on his own but would be a lot less emotionally open. All of these elements combine to make him want that physical barrier between his real hands and the world. Once he can trust that the Strawhats will always be there for him, he’s more willing to be more physically open.
I also think it’d be cute if he was much more of a coffee drinker :3c I see Canon!Robin as a connoisseur who likes a well-brewed espresso but Boy Piece!Robin needs a cup of joe (no matter its quality) every chance he can get. So I drew him with his special #1 ARCHAEOLOGIST mug.
It would make me so happy if you left your thoughts in the tags or replies!! Even if you hate everything about them, I just really like engagement hahaha. I’m thinking girl Usopp is next despite the poll results because she’s on my mind rn (don’t hold me to this, LOL I’m fickle). I’m making these for fun so I just wanna make designs in the order that interests me the most. Check out the tag “girl piece” on my blog to see all the genderbends I have so far. And happy pride!!!
2K notes · View notes
tteokdoroki · 1 year ago
Text
☆༉ — RYOMEN SUKUNA. a better man.
Tumblr media
about. you’re a girl that’s way out of his league and he’s the bad boy you couldn’t help but fall for. what happens when ryomen sukuna fails to meet you in the middle?
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, suggestive towards the end, no curses!au, modern!au, it’s implied that sukuna is in a gang, mentions of fights, reader is a rich girl, they’re kinda in love :( bad boy!sukuna, fem!reader.
Tumblr media
“you’re mad at me. aren’cha?”
sukuna mutters with an air of faux nonchalance as he lazily jogs up the final marble steps that lead up to the restaurant he was supposed to meet you at nearly two hours ago. the evening traffic zips by, red and white headlights parting through the rain to illuminate your boyfriend’s features. heavy water droplets take residence on the slope of his nose and Cupid’s bow, some even daring to cling on to the tips of dusty rose-coloured hair.
if you weren’t so angry right now, you might take a moment to appreciate how good sukuna looks in the moment — especially with the way the rain makes the designer tux you’d gotten for him cling to his skin. exposing every ridge and dip and curve in his muscle while his inky black tattoos become all the more visible.
“of course i’m mad.” you step aside to let sukuna under the shelter of the entrance, avoiding him as he swoops down for his usual hug and kiss. “tonight is important. it was important.”
“babe c’mon on, i was—“
“you were late. they’re serving dessert in there, ryomen.” your tone is coloured with shades of annoyance and a hint of warning. like a mother about to lecture her child. you’re pissed. it’s written all over your face too — in the way that your brows crease and you pout so adorably. he’ll try to play it off, like he doesn’t care, but it almost makes sukuna sick to his stomach to know that you’re angry with him.
the rain picks up outside of the restaurant and you continue. “all you had to do was show up on time. come to this stupid fancy restaurant and be there to meet my parents. but of course, you got yourself caught up in—“ you grab his dress shirt in frustration, noticing the blood on the collar that doesn’t belong to him. his split knuckles and the bruise on his lips. “— in whatever this is.” you roll your eyes, blood boiling.
“it’s nothin’ for you to worry your pretty little head about,” sukuna scoffs, lips spreading wide in his signature smirk. the excuse is lame, but he doesn’t want you to worry for him any longer. “since when did you care about what your parents think, anyways?” but you see it in his eyes, that same old worry. that he’s not good enough for you, that a scumbag like him doesn’t deserve a pretty girl like you. he’s always told you to find someone better, someone able to feed into the glitz and glamour that you were brought up in.
but you’ve always told ryomen sukuna that you have everything you need right there with him.
cupping his face, the heat of anger dispels from your body and you exhale deeply though your nose. “i don’t care about what my parents think. if i did, i wouldn’t be dating you.” you cast a thumb over the thick lines of ink decorating his face, accenting sukuna’s high cheekbones and chiselled features while the rest of your fingers sink into his smooth, dark undercut. “but that doesn’t mean i don’t want you to meet them. they’re just as special to me as you are. i want the most important people in my life to know each other.”
your boyfriend’s hands settle on your wrists as he grunts noncommittally, indicating that he’s aware of his wrong doings. if there’s one thing that sukuna hates, it’s upsetting you. he doesn’t care what the world thinks of him, it’s never mattered before. yet, even the slightest look of disappointment from you has the man in shambles. “‘m sorry,” he drawls, his grip on you shifting down to cup your waist — pulling you flush against him. “what can a guy like me do to make it up to you?”
“you can go on in there and charm the hell out of my rich, uptight parents so that we can hurry up and go home,” your voice lowers an octave as you stand on your tip toes for the extra height so that you can nip at the shell of sukuna’s ear. “where you can rip this dress off’a me.”
“such a dirty mouth for such’a prim ‘n proper girl, hm? i should wash it out with soap.” he purrs right back, leaning down to kiss at your neck until you’ve had enough of his frayed pink hair tickling your skin. he damn near melts when your fingers inch up to tug at his roots — earning a deep and thrilling growl from the man. “that was a dirty move. who taught you that?”
“my good for nothing boyfriend, he’s kind of a bad influence.” you tease back, despite having to physically push sukuna away in order to avoid setting off his inner beast before dinner with your parents is done — and instead, take to grabbing his larger hand in yours so you can lead him from the front of house to your family’s reserved table.
and like always, sukuna trails after you like a lost puppy enamoured with the person that found them, have them love and warmth. because, while you didn’t change him, you made him want to be better — to give up the knives in his back and the bullets looking over his head for something better. something softer.
something like you.
ryomen sukuna wanted to become the someone he thought you deserved.
that’s why he put on this stupid suit and tie, why he let you take his hand, why he follows you to the the table that’s sure to seal his fate with you.
behind all that rough exterior, is a man who loves you.
and in front of sukuna, is a girl who loves him and all of his flaws right back.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
4K notes · View notes